Chapter 17: Sorting Hat

A few minutes later, more and more ghosts began to appear in the small room, each one with a different shape and size—some tall, others short, some thin, and others rather rotund. The sight of so many ghosts took the new students by surprise. At first, many of the young witches and wizards were frightened, but they soon realized that the ghosts were quite friendly, greeting everyone with cheerful enthusiasm.

One ghost, eager to ease the students' nervousness, decided to put on a little show, performing a "ghostly" talent—removing his head and holding it above his body as it dangled in the air.

"Cool..." someone whispered, watching the ghost's head bob up and down.

"Thank you," the ghost replied, clearly in the mood for more. "But I can do something even cooler."

With a grin, the ghost tossed his head high into the air. What followed was an impressive acrobatic display: a front somersault followed by a triple-and-a-half aerial spin. The ghost's body reached up just in time to catch his head smoothly, reattaching it without a hitch.

The performance was flawless. The crowd, including Kyle, erupted into applause. It was truly impressive—after all, a talent like that wasn't something you saw every day.

"Thank you, thank you!" the ghost beamed as he took a bow, circling the group of students with pride. "Oh, and did I mention? It was with this very routine that I joined the Headless Hunt. Not to brag or anything, of course—just letting you know you've got good taste!"

His smug air only made the students laugh harder, and soon the atmosphere was buzzing with excitement. Everyone urged him to perform more tricks, which he happily obliged, though none quite as difficult as his first routine. Even so, the continuous tricks had the first-years laughing and cheering.

"Hmph," came a sneering voice from the side. "What's so impressive about that?"

The group turned to see another ghost, this one wearing a distinctive wrinkled collar.

"I'm sorry, Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington," the headless ghost quickly responded. "I was just trying to entertain the children."

"You'd better be," Nearly Headless Nick said coldly.

The headless ghost, unfazed, added, "Of course, I sincerely hope that you'll finally join the Headless Hunt this year."

Nick gave him a blank look before turning and walking through a nearby wall without another word. The interruption left an awkward silence hanging in the air, and the headless ghost shrugged, looking around at the students. "Well, it's time for the Sorting Ceremony, anyway. Get ready, kids, and I'll see you later!"

With that, the headless ghost drifted through the wall, heading for the Great Hall.

Though the crowd felt a slight pang of disappointment at the abrupt end of the performance, their excitement for the Sorting Ceremony kept the mood high. Most of the students were buzzing with anticipation, eagerly whispering to each other about what was to come.

Except for Kanna.

Unlike the others, she hadn't paid attention to the ghost show at all. Instead, she had retreated into a corner, her face pale and her posture tense. She radiated an air of quiet despair, though, unfortunately, no one seemed to notice.

Moments later, Professor McGonagall returned, her expression stern.

"I was only gone for a moment, and you've already made such a mess!" she scolded, her voice cool but firm. "Your laughter could be heard all the way in the Great Hall. Was something really that funny, or do you think the house system is a joke?"

Though her voice wasn't loud, the effect was immediate. The room fell silent, and every head bowed as the students tried to avoid her sharp gaze.

After a tense minute, Professor McGonagall continued, "The House system is a very serious matter. I expect you to treat it with the respect it deserves. Now, form a single file and follow me."

In less than a minute, the students scrambled to form a neat line, quiet as mice. They were ready to follow Professor McGonagall, the laughter from earlier now a distant memory.

Kanna also shuffled forward like a zombie, her pale face and stiff movements making her look more like one of the ghosts than a first-year student.

...

They walked out of the room, passed through the foyer, and through another pair of double doors, finally entering the luxurious auditorium.

Compared to the hall, the auditorium was even more magnificent. It was so vast that it was almost overwhelming. Even with four long tables filled with students, the space didn't feel crowded at all. The tables were adorned with golden plates and goblets, and thousands of floating candles illuminated the room.

Above them, the velvety black ceiling was dotted with stars and drifting clouds, mesmerizing everyone who looked up. Someone whispered to their companion, "It's like magic in here. It looks just like the sky outside. I read about it in Hogwarts: A History."

Kyle glanced in the direction of the voice but quickly lost interest when he saw it was a boy speaking. A shame. If he had started at Hogwarts a year later, he could have been friends with Hermione.

The group moved to the front of the auditorium and came to a stop. Higher up was the teachers' bench. In the middle sat Dumbledore, dressed in a purple robe, his silver-white hair and beard neatly groomed. He wore his signature half-moon glasses and gazed warmly at each new student.

Seated next to him were the four Heads of House.

Slytherin's Head, Severus Snape, with his greasy, slick hair. Ravenclaw's Head, Filius Flitwick, who was notably short. Hufflepuff's seemingly kind Head, Pomona Sprout and the Head of Gryffindor, Professor McGonagall, whose seat was temporarily empty since she was overseeing the House Sorting.

In total, there were nearly twenty professors present for the opening banquet, but Kyle recognized fewer than ten of them, either from guesswork or intuition. He had no recollection of the others, but that was understandable. Hogwarts was so large, and if only a handful of professors were memorable, it wouldn't have been enough. Moreover, half of the ones he did recognize were already quite old, making that number even smaller.

Kyle turned his attention away. Just then, Professor McGonagall placed a small square stool in front of the new students and set a patched, brown wizard's hat on it. Well, brown was an approximation—the hat was so filthy that a small cloud of dust puffed up when McGonagall lightly placed it down.

In the candlelight, the hat gleamed with a worn, dull shine. It was impossible to tell its original color under such conditions. Kyle was sure that if this hat wasn't the Sorting Hat and somehow ended up in his house, either he or Chris would meet their end. Or maybe Diana would kill them both.