I was expelled from Hogwarts?

Professor McGonagall had only been out of the small black room for five minutes before running back in a hurry.

The noise in the small black room, not to mention the auditorium across the wall, even her who was going to get the sorting hat, could be heard upstairs!

I don't know, I thought there was a fire dragon in the house!

She walked into the room and suddenly raised her voice and said loudly:

I can hear you arguing in the office, and you are the loudest in the whole castle. If I don't come, can you tear down the castle?

Following her appearance, the little wizard seemed to press the mute button, and immediately behaved like a quail.

Professor McGonagall glanced at everyone sternly. It was the first time she had seen such a rowdy little wizard in all these years. This year's students...

Really bad!

What's going on? McGonagall walked towards the corner of the room, and she saw more than twenty ghosts floating there.

I just wanted to perform the Louis XVI Happy Stage. Nearly headless Nick supported his broken head and apologized: But it seems to scare this little girl.

Sir Nicholas of Mincy, I have long said that your art is outdated, or my Kennedy headshot, which is more in line with modern aesthetics. A ghost with a big hole in his head laughed and said:

As an artist, if you don't pursue some novelty, you will be eliminated by the times sooner or later.

Mr. Casper, what are you talking about? Being shot by a Muggle gun is also an art? Almost headless Nick retorted:

It's only a temporary fad at most, but art is classic beauty, eternal beauty, and there is no outdatedness...

Okay, stop arguing. Professor McGonagall said sternly, Miss Granger, are you okay? Do you need to go to the school hospital?

I'm fine. Hermione shook her head apprehensively.

I gave her some chocolate, Professor. Rove whispered.

Really? Professor McGonagall glanced at him approvingly, Mr. Scamander, if you haven't been sorted yet, I will definitely give you two points!

Now, stand in a single file and follow me into the auditorium! said Professor McGonagall.

Taking advantage of Professor McGonagall's turning around, Hermione stabbed Rove hard twice with her elbow... Let you scare me!

Rove grinned and rubbed his waist lightly, but he was wronged and couldn't fight back.

Once lined up, everyone walked out of the room, through the foyer, and through double doors into a luxurious auditorium.

If the hall is simple and grand, and pays more attention to the display of historical heritage, then the auditorium is a kind of ultimate luxury.

The entire auditorium is rectangular, with a single green granite pillar carved with many patterns, supporting a dome as high as one hundred feet.

In the ceiling above the dome, stars are twinkling, clouds are tumbling, turbulent like raging waves, there are occasional comets in the sky, a rainbow light from west to east... like a projection of the deep starry sky.

Thousands of candles were still floating in the air, and the lights were as bright as the day, and the broad auditorium shone brightly under the light of the candles.

In the center of the auditorium, there are four long yellow rosewood tables, with shining gold plates and silver goblets on the tables, and students are sitting on both sides.

On the stage at the top of the auditorium, there is another long table, which is the seat of the teachers.

Many students were stunned, and the grievances they felt when they got off the train completely dissipated. They didn't go to Eton, Oxford, Cambridge... dogs! !

Professor McGonagall placed the four-legged stool in front of the long table, and placed a wizard hat on the stool. The hat was old, patched, and thick with dust, as if it hadn't been cleaned for hundreds of years.

The hat suddenly twisted, as if it was dancing, but it was more of an irregular twitch... The light dancing was not enough, a gap was opened in the brim of the hat, like a mouth, and it began to hum a song composed and composed by itself.

You may think I'm not pretty,

But don't judge a book by its cover,

I could eat myself if you guys could find a more beautiful hat than mine...

Try it on,

I will tell you,

Which college should I go to...

You may belong to Gryffindor,

That has the courage buried in the bottom of my heart,

Their courage, boldness and boldness,

Make Gryffindor stand out;

You may belong to Hufflepuff,

The people there are upright and faithful,

Hufflepuff students are stoic and honest, unafraid of hard work;

If you're smart,

Perhaps into wise Ravenclaws, where the wise and learned always meet their kind;

Maybe you'll be in Slytherin,

You will make friends here, but those cunning people will stop at nothing to achieve their goals.

put on me!

Don't be afraid!

Never panic!

After the song, the audience applauded thunderously, as if this was not in a branch theater, but a live concert.

The Sorting Hat bowed to the four dining tables. It also turned to Professor McGonagall and whispered:

My sonnet isn't bad, is it, Little McGregor?

Professor McGonagall wanted to say that it might not be as grounded as the ghosts' art, but the Sorting Hat is only a thousand years old, so he can't listen to such heavy words, so McGonagall could only euphemistically say: It seems a bit regressed, but it's still the Divine Comedy.

I feel the same way. The Sorting Hat sighed, It needs to be more refined. The new song is finished and I'll let you listen to it.

The corner of Professor McGonagall's mouth twitched. After listening to it for decades, she had already calloused her ears from the drake voice of the Sorting Hat. It was really torture!

Or if she becomes the principal in the future, cancel the singing of the Sorting Hat?

Professor McGonagall was distracted for two seconds, and pulled out a roll of parchment from his sleeve: Whoever's name I call now will put on a hat, sit on a stool, and sort the school.

Hannah Abbott!

A little girl with a ruddy complexion and two golden braids came out of the queue and sat on a chair.

The Aibo family has a long history. They migrated from Milan to England with the Roman army's expedition to Britain.

The Abbot family is also famous for blacksmithing, so in the history of magic they are often referred to as the little blacksmith of Milan and Abbot the iron.

The Sorting Hat made a decision without much hesitation, and the little girl ran back to the dining table at Hufflepuff College with two playful and lovely shofar braids.

Hufflepuff College came out on top, and the little badgers applauded thunderously, very excited.

Neville was still stuttering and reciting magic, trying to use the last bit of time to improve himself.

He had inquired about it before, not to mention the various sorting ceremonies, and he heard that the worst students were not assigned to Hufflepuff or dropped out, but sent to... Azkaban.

Neville was terrified and felt that he needed to be rescued.

But when he looked up and saw Hannah, Neville stopped reciting the spell and was just dazed.

Rove poked him and whispered, Is it cute?

Neville nodded blankly, then quickly shook his head, blushing and stammeringly explaining: I think her braid is very interesting...

Oh, that's right. Rove smiled and continued to lure: If you want to watch it every day, you have to go to Hufflepuff.

Since ancient times, Scamander has been a Hufflepuff, so Rove has begun to try his best to recruit students for his house.

Of course a good boy like Neville cannot be let go.

Neville blushed and looked at Hannah, feeling moved. He rolled his eyes and asked suddenly, Rofe, who do you think is cuter, Hermione or Shirley?

Rove is not stupid, how can he be tricked, he shook his head and said: What did you say... I didn't hear clearly.

Hermione, who was standing behind her with her ears sideways eavesdropping, couldn't help but rolled her eyes and said, You two are so boring!!

Shirley covered her mouth and smiled.

Hermione Granger! cried Professor McGonagall.

Hermione wanted to say a few words about inner beauty, but Professor McGonagall shouted again, and Shirley touched her back before the girl realized.

She gave Rove a hard look, trotted to the stool, and hastily put the hat on her head.

It went on for a long time before the Sorting Hat finally shouted, Gryffindor!

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