Chapter - 19 Dirty hat

As they left the room, traversed the hall, passed through a set of double doors at the rear, the first-year students felt like they entered an expensive restaurant.

Other students from different years within

Hogwarts were already seated around four lengthy tables, bathed in the illumination of thousands of candles suspended in the air.

Four tables adorned with glistening gold plates and goblets stood prominently, while at the head of the dining room, another elongated table was occupied by the teachers.

Dumbledore sat right in the center, donning a lavish dark blue robe embroidered with shimmering stars and moons, exuding a classic wizardly charm.

His long, crooked nose, clearly having weathered a few bumps, stood out amidst his flowing silver-white hair and neatly trimmed beard.

But what really caught attention were his half-moon glasses framing bright blue eyes that seemed to peek through you, as if reading your thoughts and mind.

There was an empty seat beside Dumbledore, meant for Professor McGonagall. Next to it sat a teacher with oily black hair, a hooked nose, and a pale skin.

William recalling the twins peculiar way of describing the professors—emphasizing their unique features.

So, according to their descriptions, this particular professor— a face like a bat, the greasy middle-aged man—must be none other than Professor Snape.

William shook his head in disbelief. The twins' descriptions were spot on.

Professor McGonagall ushered the first-year students to the center of the hall, directing them to form a line facing the entire senior years, while the teachers stood behind them.

The candlelight danced, casting eerie shadows, and hundreds of faces fixed their gaze on the newcomers. Among the students, ghostly figures with a faint silver glow.

Professor McGonagall carefully positioned a stool in front of the first-year students, then gingerly set a top wizard hat atop the stool.

The hat appeared patched, weathered, and dirty, showing no signs of ever being cleaned.

William couldn't help but feel that the hat desperately needed a good wash, perhaps soaked in a sink filled with dishwashing liquid.

Could it be that the sorting test involved who can clean this hat at what speed.

All of a sudden, the hat began to twitch and twist, appearing to perform a shoulder-shaking dance.

A wide slit in the brim, akin to a mouth, formed as the hat started singing in a peculiar melody:

"Oh, you may not think I'm pretty, but don't judge on what you see, I'll eat myself if you can find a smarter hat than me.

You can keep your bowlers black, Your top hats sleek and tall, For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat And I can cap them all.

There's nothing hidden in your head The Sorting Hat can't see, So try me on and I will tell you Where you ought to be.

William sensed Professor McGonagall's lips tightening, seemingly on the verge of silencing the Sorting Hat with her wand.

Yet, to his disappointment, Professor McGonagall took a few breaths, and her countenance regained its composure.

William suspected that she might have cast a non-verbal, silent spell and sealed her ears to block out the sound.

Despite this, the Sorting Hat continued to generate noise pollution.

You might belong in Gryffindor,

Where dwell the brave at heart,

Their daring, nerve, and chivalry

Set Gryffindors apart;

You might belong in Hufflepuff,

Where they are just and loyal,

Those patient Hufflepuffs are true

And unafraid of toil;

Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,

If you've a ready mind,

Where those of wit and learning,

Will always find their kind;

Or perhaps in Slytherin

You'll make your real friends,

Those cunning folks use any means

To achieve their ends."

The hat's movements in the courtyard accelerated rapidly, resembling a rock enthusiast lost in music.

William felt a tinge of relief, thankful that the Sorting Hat didn't delve into hip-hop.

After a full ten minutes of this eccentric performance, the talking hat concluded its once-a-year concert. As the singing ceased, the audience erupted into applause.

The Weasley twins stood atop their chairs, clapping enthusiastically and nearly rushing over to request an autograph.

After acknowledging each of the four dining tables in turn, the hat stopped talking . Yet, its mouth continued to move, uttering incomprehensible chants.

Observing the hat's motioning mouth, a idea struck William's mind.

Professor McGonagall took a few strides forward, clutching a roll of parchment in her hand.

"Whoever I call now, come forth, don the hat, sit on the stool, and await sorting," she announced.

"Arthur!"

A black-haired boy immediately walked up, his nerves evident in his fidgeting.

As soon as the hat settled on his head, he shouted, "Slytherin!"

The boy's satisfaction was palpable as he acknowledged the Slytherin table, greeted by thunderous applause and cheers echoing throughout the hall.

" Bell kattie" Professor McGonagall called out, the name carrying a sense of anticipation in the air.

A little girl, cheeks flushed and hair a messy blonde tangle, hurriedly jumped out of line and plonked the hat over her eyes.

Sitting down, she paused...

"Gryffindor!" the Hat called out.

Cheers erupted from the left table, and out of nowhere, the twins whipped out a loudspeaker, causing a joyful commotion.

Percy shot them a look, but couldn't help joining in the loud cheers.

" Campbell Gavin "

A boy with curly hair dashed forward eagerly.

"Hufflepuff!"

Applause and cheers erupted from the right table, welcoming Gavin to join them. Even the fat monk ghost waved happily in greeting.

"Chang Cho"

Cho approached the talking hat with a slow pace, donning the Sorting Hat. This time, an extended pause followed before a voice finally spoke: "Ravenclaw!"

Cedric felt like crying after knowing that Cho would not be in his house.

Meanwhile, Cho settled into a seat beside Marina, also sorted into Ravenclaw.

"Stark William" called out Professor McGonagall.

William strolled confidently toward the hat, eyeing it with surprise.

It was far dirtier than he had anticipated—covered in fuzz and sporting numerous patches.

What struck him the most was a cobweb draping over half of it, and to his surprise, a tiny spider who was looking at him.

Luckily, it wasn't a cockroach; otherwise, William might have questioned Hogwarts' hygiene altogether.

Brushing off the dust, he reluctantly placed the hat on his head, feeling a bit disgusted.

"Hey, lad, what's with the attitude?" A small voice echoed in William's ear.

"Don't argue" The Sorting Hat's tone turned stern. "I can read your thoughts!"

"Ah, let me delve into your mind, young one, to determine which house you belong to..."

William scratched his dark brown hair. He really felt a little itchy on his scalp, and the discomfort quickly spread throughout his body.

The Sorting Hat seemed to have been greatly insulted by his actions and it raised his voice again: "Never! Don't think of me with such filthy thoughts!

I am obsessed with cleanliness! Which hat have you seen, washed a thousand times! "

For a hat, enduring thousands of washes is quite a feat, considering you've existed for at least a millennium. On average, don't you get a bath once a year?!

The Sorting Hat clearly caught onto William's thoughts, humming to divert the conversation.

Dumbledore coughed twice, signaling the Sorting Hat to proceed promptly.

Even if the hat itself wasn't hungry, the students hunger didn't knew any patience.

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