Chapter 288: The Sorting Hat

Harry and Ron didn’t return until the Sorting Ceremony ended.

En felt slightly worried—they wouldn’t have been attacked by the Whomping Willow…

It was said that tree had a rather bad temper.

Aside from that, En paid the most attention to Ginny; she carried a notebook from fifty years ago, the very beginning of the Chamber of Secrets plot.

En had not the slightest intention of making contact with Riddle’s diary.

Horcruxes were usually described merely as objects ensuring Voldemort’s immortality, but Riddle’s diary revealed functions far beyond that.

It could corrupt a wizard’s soul and resurrect itself. After acquiring the Soul Relic, En became even more cautious.

This Horcrux, split by Voldemort over many years, was not so simple; En always sensed a faint, elusive malice—and the troubling part was, the other might sense some of it too.

En knew Riddle’s diary had some hypnotic ability: “it devours a wizard’s deepest fears and most hidden secrets, growing hungrier and stronger.”

So he dared not be the least bit arrogant.

In this dark magic domain, Headmaster Dumbledore himself admitted: “Voldemort possesses powers I will never have.”

Thus, caution, waiting for the swift resolution of the Basilisk, and destroying Riddle’s diary after obtaining its fang became En’s current priorities.

That day would come soon, so En was in no hurry.

At the Gryffindor table, the wizards were all excited:

“Great Green, watching over his faithful believers—”

Fred raised an eyebrow, his tone mock-serious.

“The light of my lord shines upon us—”

George solemnly picked up the refrain.

“Strange—I rarely see anything steal En’s attention from his book.”

Hermione frowned. What could possibly make En look this way three times?

“Harry and Ron!”

Hermione gasped.

After En had said “nothing will happen,” she’d completely forgotten.

…

At the end of the Sorting Ceremony, Headmaster Dumbledore and the professors rushed out of the Great Hall as if they’d just received momentous news.

This sparked wild rumors among the young wizards: some claimed Hogwarts had been invaded by a flying car; others said a thief had struck, targeting the precious Whomping Willow—but no one believed it; all agreed even the dim-witted Neville wouldn’t dare dig a single shovel at the tree.

“Hey!”

Hermione shouted angrily, and the others immediately apologized profusely to Neville.

The members of the Hut also gathered, anxious and uneasy.

“En, really—nothing will happen, right?”

Hermione poked at her food anxiously; the bread was nearly turning to cheese.

“Nothing will happen.”

En replied; after Headmaster Dumbledore left, he stopped worrying entirely.

Now he stared at the Sorting Hat, his gaze unusually dangerous.

The Sorting Hat twitched its frayed brim—it had just sensed that uneasy stare.

Who was it?

Curious, it twisted and turned, until its gaze met a pair of calm green eyes; moments later, it stiffly turned away:

“Old hat should’ve known—like Ravenclaw, you hold grudges… old hat must hide…”

The Sorting Ceremony ended with Headmaster Dumbledore rushing back in.

The young wizards had endless chatter; they returned to their dormitories in high spirits. First-years naturally followed their prefects, still listening to upperclassmen’s tall tales and letting out startled cries in turn.

When the Great Hall had thinned, En and the others finally saw Professor McGonagall, her anger barely contained, with Harry and Ron trembling behind her.

“Eat here, then go back to your dorms!”

Professor McGonagall raised her wand, pointed at the table, and a large platter of sandwiches, two silver cups, and a jug of iced pumpkin juice appeared.

She clearly was furious.

“I thought we’d be expelled!”

Ron grabbed a sandwich as soon as Professor McGonagall stormed off.

“Me too.”

Harry grabbed one as well.

“There you are! Where have you been? Everyone’s talking—wild rumors—some say you flew here in a flying car and got expelled.”

Hermione dashed over from the corner of the Great Hall, followed by En and the others.

“We weren’t expelled.”

Harry reassured her.

“You’re not seriously saying you flew here?”

Hermione’s face darkened, ready to explode.

But her words were cut off by a thunderous round of applause from a group of Gryffindors who’d been waiting nearby.

“Brilliant!”

Lee Jordan shouted,

“Incredible! What a spectacular way! Crashing a flying car into the Whomping Willow—people will be talking about this for years!”

“Well done,”

said a fifth-year student who’d never spoken to Harry before; someone clapped Harry on the back as if he’d just won a marathon; Fred and George pushed forward together, asking:

“Why didn’t you call us back?”

Seeing they were unharmed, En had already left; he was heading to the Headmaster’s office.

Jia Jia Siting walked beside him, watching Harry’s uneasy expression closely.

“Harry’s gotten into trouble again.”

He said.

“Mm.”

En replied.

“The Boy Who Lived, the Boy Who Defeated the Dark Lord, the Famous Boy…”

Jia Jia Siting sighed,

“My mother says every gift fate bestows has already been priced in secret.”

His voice faded into the cold night wind; the sky was pitch black, as if a heavy burden pressed upon the mountains, making the swaying branches hard to see.

…

The Headmaster’s office was empty.

En knocked on the door and waited outside; to his surprise, the door opened on its own.

En stepped naturally toward the desk.

On a shelf behind the desk sat a tattered, crumpled wizarding hat—the Sorting Hat.

En circled the desk, picked up the hat, and seemed lost in thought.

“Beautiful Ravenclaw, from the quiet riverside…”

The old hat suddenly began to sing, trembling.

Disloyal Dumbledore… left at this moment; disloyal stone gargoyles… didn’t even block him; and disloyal door… opened by itself?!

This was a vital Hogwarts treasure—how could they just hand it over to a young wizard?

“Relax, Sorting Hat.”

En smiled; Headmaster Dumbledore seemed unbothered by his actions.

“For the first time in centuries, old hat owes Ravenclaw a debt—what do you want? Or are you searching for something, young wizard?”

The Sorting Hat sighed helplessly.