Just as Sherlock had predicted, when the Sorting Hat was placed on Harry's head, it ultimately called out:
"Gryffindor!"
The entire process had taken nearly five minutes—just slightly shorter than Sherlock's own.
At that moment, the nearby Gryffindors turned to look at Sherlock in astonishment.
Seriously?
Not only had he predicted the result, but even the timing? Exactly?
Shouldn't this first-year be in Ravenclaw instead?
"You were right again!"
Hermione was once more amazed by Sherlock. But her voice was quickly drowned out by the thunderous applause and cheers that erupted throughout the Great Hall.
Without a doubt, Harry Potter received the loudest ovation of the evening.
The Gryffindors welcomed Harry with far more enthusiasm than they had Sherlock.
The moment the Sorting Hat announced his house, Gryffindor table exploded with excitement.
As Harry approached their table, Percy Weasley stood up and shook his hand vigorously—so long, in fact, that if Harry had been a girl, someone might've called it inappropriate.
The Weasley twins shouted at the top of their lungs:
"We've got Potter! We've got Potter!"
At that moment, Harry was unquestionably the star.
But his eyes searched until they found Sherlock, and without hesitation, he sat right beside him.
It was the unmistakable look of someone thinking: I've got someone to watch my back now.
Compared to Harry's grand entrance, the rest of the Sorting was far more subdued.
With only two students left, Ron Weasley was, unsurprisingly, Sorted into Gryffindor—his Sorting taking roughly the same amount of time as Draco Malfoy's.
The last student, Zabini, was Sorted into Slytherin.
And with that, the Sorting Ceremony officially concluded.
In the end, the results matched Sherlock's earlier prediction exactly.
Roughly half the students had been Sorted into Hufflepuff, while the remaining three houses shared the rest more or less equally.
As expected, Sherlock mused, Hufflepuff is the backbone of the wizarding world.
Each of the other houses had their own quirks—Sherlock never considered himself particularly "normal," anyway.
When Professor McGonagall rolled up the parchment and took the Sorting Hat away, Headmaster Albus Dumbledore rose to his feet.
He looked exactly like the figure on the Chocolate Frog card Harry had once received—a bespectacled old man with sparkling blue eyes, a long crooked nose that had clearly been broken more than once, and a magnificent beard and hair of silver.
The twinkle of his half-moon spectacles gave the impression that he could see right through you.
"Welcome!"
He beamed at the students, spreading his arms as though to embrace them all.
"Welcome to another year at Hogwarts!
Before we begin our feast, I'd like to say a few words."
ヽ（≧□≦）ノ
At that moment, many first-years were hit with a wave of elementary school flashbacks—the long-winded principal's speeches, the endless lectures...
But Dumbledore defied all expectations.
He opened his mouth and solemnly declared:
"Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!"
"Thank you!"
And with that, he sat back down.
The Opening Speech at the Hogwarts Start-of-Term Feast had lasted less than five seconds. A masterclass in brevity.
Nobody knew what those words were supposed to mean—but they sounded impressive.
The students burst into applause and cheers. None of them cared what he actually meant.
As long as there was no long speech, Dumbledore was their friend.
Most importantly, everyone was starving. And just as Dumbledore sat down, the once-empty plates on every table magically filled with a feast fit for royalty.
Roast beef, roast chicken, chips, ketchup, mint humbugs…
Everything from hearty mains to sweet snacks appeared in an instant.
The returning students were already used to it, but the first-years were left gaping.
My friends and I were stunned.jpg.
No further prompting was needed. Everyone began to dig in.
"Sherlock… do you think he's a little… you know… mad?" Harry asked uncertainly.
"Mad?" Percy echoed, overhearing. He leaned in and muttered,
"He's a genius. The greatest wizard in the world! But yes, you're right—he's a bit mad too."
"Anyway, eat up… Want some potatoes, Harry?"
Harry accepted the potatoes and glanced back at Sherlock.
The boy had furrowed his brow, clearly deep in thought.
Sherlock was thinking.
Dumbledore's odd string of nonsensical words? In a flash, several interpretations had already occurred to him.
First possibility: each word mocked a stereotypical perception of one of the four houses:
Hufflepuff = Nitwit
Ravenclaw = Blubbering bookworms
Slytherin = Useless trash
Gryffindor = Stubborn blockheads
Second possibility: these were twisted inversions of house traits:
Ravenclaw (wisdom) = Nitwit
Gryffindor (bravery) = Blubber
Slytherin (cunning) = Oddment (leftovers)
Hufflepuff (loyalty) = Tweak (overwrought)
Third possibility: how each house views the others:
Ravenclaws think everyone else are nitwits.
Gryffindors think others are cowardly crybabies.
Slytherins view non-purebloods as trash.
Hufflepuffs think everyone else is too intense and twisted.
But ultimately, it didn't matter.
He was now at Hogwarts. Eventually, he'd get to the bottom of all this.
After a long and eventful day, the new students were starving.
And credit where credit's due—Hogwarts did put effort into the Start-of-Term Feast.
It could genuinely be called a gourmet spread—especially in a country often joked about for its "questionable cuisine."
Sherlock wasn't picky, but when something tasted good, he wasn't shy about having more.
Harry, of course, needed no encouragement.
While the Dursleys never starved him, they certainly never let him eat freely.
Now, he sampled everything.
Once everyone was full, the plates magically vanished, returning to their spotless, empty state—no cleaning required.
Again, the first-years were left wide-eyed with wonder.
And then, as everyone leaned back in satisfied fullness, Dumbledore stood up a second time.
Unlike before, this time he looked far more formal.
The air was crisp and cool—it was the start of a new school year.
"In the coming year," Dumbledore said, "I hope you'll all strive to grow in character, deepen your understanding of magical theory, and strengthen your practical skills. May you achieve excellence by term's end."
"To the older students: set an example by following the rules and helping the new students adjust."
"To the first-years: stay diligent, keep moving forward, and let's work together to make Hogwarts not only the best school in Britain, but in all of Europe and beyond."
He paused—then added:
"And finally, three reminders for our new students—"
"First, strictly follow school rules—no magic in the hallways between classes, and absolutely no wandering into the Forbidden Forest or the right-hand corridor on the fourth floor."
"Second, actively participate in school life—consider trying out for your house's Quidditch team to bring glory to your house."
"Third, cultivate house pride. And now, your headmaster will personally lead us in the singing of the school song."
The first two points were fine.
But when Dumbledore mentioned the school song, Sherlock immediately noticed every other professor's smile freeze ever so slightly.
Something's not right here…
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