"Hogwarts!"
The Sorting Hat's resounding voice echoed throughout the Great Hall, bringing the previously bustling chatter to a sudden hush. Then, the young wizards erupted into an uproar!
"Hogwarts!?"
"What does that mean? Aren't we already at Hogwarts?"
"Merlin's balls... that hat must be broken."
In the corner of the main table, Hagrid, in shock, accidentally crushed his cup. Nearby, a professor, left with only one arm and half a leg, seemed startled by the sound of the shattering cup. He raised his hand dramatically but accidentally flung his prosthetic right hand. It struck Professor Flitwick's head, causing him to let out a low gasp—unclear whether the gasp was more of shock or pain.
A professor sitting not far from Flitwick, her head wrapped in a turban, also let out an exaggerated cry of surprise. The shrill sound caused a greasy-haired professor next to her to frown.
Professor McGonagall, closest to Ryan, couldn't hide her surprise.
This was unprecedented.
For the entire history of Hogwarts, students who had been sorted by the Sorting Hat had been guaranteed admission to one of the four major houses, without exception. Some joked that the Sorting Hat might, for some naturally Dark wizards, place them directly in Azkaban.
But that was just a joke.
Now... an exception had truly appeared.
Even Albus Dumbledore, who had been sitting quietly in his chair, couldn't help but stand. He gazed thoughtfully at Ryan's back, then walked to the front with a serious expression. "Let me do it, Minerva," he said to Professor McGonagall. After she stepped aside, he stepped in front of Ryan. His cerulean, intelligent gaze swept over Ryan's face, finally locking onto the Sorting Hat.
He didn't speak, and the Hat certainly didn't either.
But Ryan was certain—they were communicating.
"Is that so... Since you're sure... I understand," Dumbledore replied softly after a brief exchange with the Sorting Hat. Then, he glanced at Ryan with a smile and turned around. "Loud voice—oh, children, please be quiet." He gently extended his hand to his neck, then gestured for silence.
After the young wizards had quieted down, he continued, "I have just confirmed the Sorting Hat's results, but apparently, it has no intention of changing its mind. So, I think I must have the honor of announcing—Hogwarts will welcome a very special young wizard..." He cleared his throat. "Mr. Ryan Elias, whose house will be classified as 'Hogwarts.'"
"He belongs to no house, yet to all houses at once!"
Upon hearing this, even the most knowledgeable professors could not hide their shock. Dumbledore's meaning was clear; Ryan would receive special treatment, living on campus as a student of all four houses simultaneously.
But, of course...
"Dumbledore, this..." Professor McGonagall said hesitantly, "Isn't this a little too special—I mean, regarding the timetable and dormitories..."
She understood the problem. Hogwarts had never seen such a unique student, and the school schedule couldn't keep up with such a dramatic change. For example, Gryffindor freshmen had a Transfiguration class on Monday mornings and a Herbology class in the afternoons. Ravenclaw freshmen, on the other hand, had two consecutive Potions classes on Monday mornings and a History of Magic class in the afternoons. Hufflepuffs, however, had a combination—Potions classes in the mornings and Herbology in the afternoons.
Each house had a different schedule, which clearly made it difficult for the school to arrange Ryan's classes.
But Dumbledore didn't see it as a problem.
"According to tradition, the Sorting Hat's decision cannot be changed," he confirmed before adding, "As for the schedule... Mr. Elias may submit his chosen schedule for the week on Sundays. As long as the number of classes per week matches that of other students. For the first week, he will follow the Gryffindor schedule."
Dumbledore made no secret of his preference for Gryffindor—after all, he was the most famous Lion of our time. The young wizards below, even some of the senior wizards, were envious after hearing this. Being able to choose his own courses meant that, as long as Ryan played it safe, he could ensure he wouldn't be late for any class.
"He might even be able to sleep in every day," Ron whispered to Harry. "I really hope the hat can do the same for me later." Harry didn't reply—he was also envious, but he didn't say anything.
At this moment, Dumbledore continued.
"As for the dormitory, Mr. Elias will get a special one. In fact, there's a vacant room on the south side of the sixth floor of the castle. I believe the elves will be happy to clean it up and prepare it as Mr. Elias's dormitory. And the common rooms... Mr. Elias can certainly use the common rooms of all four houses."
Ryan sensed something was off—definitely more than just a little. While Dumbledore's excuses seemed reasonable, like the tradition that the Sorting Hat's decision couldn't be changed... No matter how he listened, Ryan felt that the Headmaster was being too lenient—with what seemed like a privilege.
"Did the Sorting Hat tell him my identity?" Ryan muttered. "This hat can't be that unreliable, can it?"
Even as he pondered this, Dumbledore announced the continuation of the ceremony. The old wizard cheerfully turned and walked back to the guest of honor table. But as he turned, Ryan clearly saw him wink and smile.
Something was even more wrong.
When Dumbledore returned to his seat, the dark-haired man sitting next to Flitwick spoke softly. "I never expected you to arrange this, Dumbledore." His neck was straight, his head held high. His black hair, seeming unwashed for some time, complemented the dark robes he wore.
At this moment, he spoke lowly, "Such special treatment for a student... I thought the honor would go to Mr. Potter." As he spoke, his eyes swept over Harry, who was applauding below. He caught Harry's eyes and quickly looked away.
"Oh, that's a bit hurtful, Severus." Dumbledore stroked his beard and smiled as he picked up the pumpkin juice on the table. "Don't be so harsh with a centenarian. This is the decision of the Sorting Hat and the four founders... Oh, this pumpkin juice is a little cold."
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Author's note
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