The Sorting Hat's song summarized everything: to be sorted, all you had to do was wear the hat. It also went into detail about each House.
Gryffindor prized bravery and resolve, Hufflepuff valued loyalty and fairness, Ravenclaw cherished intellect, and Slytherin embodied ambition.
Once the song ended, the Great Hall erupted into applause.
Harry clapped politely, but gave Ron a dry look, half amused.
Ron scratched his head sheepishly.
"I'm gonna kill Fred. He totally lied to me."
Meanwhile, Charlie's face had grown a little grim.
From what the hat said, it could apparently see into people's inner thoughts.
What if it finds out I'm a transmigrator?
Surely the wizarding world didn't believe in dissecting aliens, right?
[Your Majesty, fear not. The Tyrant System guarantees absolute security. That tattered old hat is nowhere near powerful enough to see your true self.]
The system, for once, sounded reassuring.
Charlie relaxed a little.
Professor McGonagall unrolled a long parchment.
"When I call your name, come forward, put on the hat, and sit on the stool."
"Hannah Abbott!"
A little girl with twin blonde braids stepped forward nervously.
She trembled as she put on the Sorting Hat and sat down.
After just a few seconds, the hat shouted, "Hufflepuff!"
The Hufflepuff table burst into cheers, and Hannah grinned as she walked over.
"Susan Bones!"
"Hufflepuff!"
"Terry Boot!"
"Ravenclaw!"
The sorting continued.
Charlie noticed that some students were sorted instantly, while others took quite a while.
"Hermione Granger!"
The bushy-haired girl walked up, tense and anxious.
She sat under the Sorting Hat for nearly a full minute.
"Gryffindor!"
Hermione let out a deep breath and headed toward the Gryffindor table.
"Draco Malfoy!"
The platinum-haired boy strutted up arrogantly.
The hat had barely touched his hair before yelling, "Slytherin!"
Malfoy smirked as he walked toward the Slytherin table, glaring venomously at Charlie as he passed.
"Harry Potter!"
The moment Professor McGonagall called that name, the entire hall fell silent.
Everyone craned their necks to get a look at the famous boy.
Harry walked up nervously and placed the Sorting Hat on his head.
Time seemed to stretch as the hall held its collective breath.
After nearly two minutes, the hat finally cried, "Gryffindor!"
Thunderous applause erupted from the Gryffindor table.
"We got Potter! We got Potter!"
Harry looked thrilled as he sat beside Hermione.
The sorting continued.
"Neville Longbottom!"
The round-faced boy walked up, trembling.
Charlie was surprised when Neville was also placed into Gryffindor.
He sure didn't look particularly brave.
"Ron Weasley!"
Ron, pale as a ghost, walked up.
The hat had barely touched his head before shouting, "Gryffindor!"
Ron let out a massive sigh of relief and joined the others at the Gryffindor table to enthusiastic cheers.
Because Charlie's surname was White, he was almost last.
"Charlie White!"
Finally, his turn came.
Charlie took a deep breath and walked up to the Sorting Hat.
All eyes were on him.
At the Gryffindor table, Harry and Ron watched anxiously.
They both hoped he'd be sorted with them.
If Charlie knew what they were thinking, he'd probably run screaming to another House. Stay with two dudes forever? No thanks. Soft, sweet-smelling girls sound way better.
At the Slytherin table, Malfoy sneered in anticipation, ready to see a show.
Charlie placed the Sorting Hat on his head, and it dropped over his eyes.
A quiet voice echoed in his mind:
"Let's see what lies within…"
The Sorting Hat's voice was ancient and mysterious, ringing clearly in Charlie's head.
Charlie immediately felt something digging through his memories.
It wasn't painful, just… odd.
"Oh, a sharp mind… a thirst for power… not lacking in courage either…"
"…Wait, what? Blow up the school?!"
Charlie nearly jumped out of his seat.
He quickly reined in his thoughts.
Damn it, I just briefly wondered how many Tyrant Points I'd get if I blew up the castle!
Even he knew that was a risky thought.
What if the hat thought he was some kind of terrorist and kicked him out of Hogwarts?
The Sorting Hat tried to find the thought again, but it had vanished, replaced by a blank void.
The system had erased it in time.
"…A hallucination?" the Hat murmured in confusion, then continued digging deeper.
All it could find was: slack off, slack off, cute girls, slack off, slack off…
Simple, harmless, and extremely lazy.
Clearly not the kind of person who'd blow anything up.
The Sorting Hat fell into thought.
On paper, this boy had intelligence and ambition, he'd fit in Slytherin.
But his desire for power wasn't strong, he just wanted a comfy life.
Brave? Somewhat, but not exceptionally so.
As for academic passion?
The kid's head was full of skipping class and chasing girls.
No sign of knowledge-seeking here.
Which left just one option.
"Hufflepuff!"
The Sorting Hat shouted loudly.
The Hufflepuff table burst into cheers.
"Yay! The cutest, handsomest little first-year is one of ours!"
"His eyes are so dark… mysterious!"
Upper-year girls chattered excitedly, eyes sparkling.
They'd had their eyes on him since he walked in.
Forget Potter, Hufflepuff didn't care about that.
This charming boy was all that mattered.
And no, they weren't weird or creepy.
They just liked doting on adorable, good-looking boys.
Which usually meant braiding his hair, putting on makeup, and dressing him up like a doll.
Charlie removed the hat and looked at the Hufflepuff table, a bit surprised.
To be honest, he'd assumed he'd be in Slytherin or Gryffindor.
But… this wasn't bad either.
Hufflepuffs were chill, and the older girls seemed… very friendly.
At the Gryffindor table, Harry and Ron looked disappointed.
"Too bad Charlie didn't get Gryffindor," Ron sighed.
"Yeah… but Hufflepuff's okay too," Harry consoled him.
"At least we'll still see him around."
Fred and George were even more disappointed.
"Damn hat must be busted," Fred muttered.
"Our prank partner got sorted into Hufflepuff…"
They didn't mean it disrespectfully, they just felt Charlie was a better fit for their chaos-loving crowd.
At the Slytherin table, Malfoy sneered.
"Hufflepuff. Figures, weak."
Charlie walked off the platform and gave a nod to Ron and Harry.
Then he found a seat at the Hufflepuff table, where he was immediately swarmed.
"Hi there! I'm Cedric Diggory, third year."
A handsome boy offered his hand with a warm smile.
"Charlie White. Nice to meet you."
"I'm Jenny, fourth year. That girl sorted into Hufflepuff earlier? She's my cousin," said a blonde girl, pointing to Hannah Abbott.
"I'm…"
"I'm…"
One by one, the Hufflepuff upperclassmen introduced themselves enthusiastically.
Once the Sorting ended, Dumbledore stood up and walked to the front.
The hall gradually quieted down.
"Welcome, everyone!" he said, spreading his arms wide, eyes twinkling.
"Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts!"
"Before the feast begins, I have a few words to say."
Everyone turned their full attention to the legendary Headmaster.
Dumbledore cleared his throat.
"Nonsense! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!"
The entire hall fell silent.
Students looked at each other, confused.
Charlie blinked.
Is this man… communing with spirits?
Is this some kind of Northern incantation? Is Britain's northeast like… actual northeast?
He didn't have time to ponder it.
Because suddenly, the table was covered in mouth-watering food.
Roast beef, roast chicken, pork chops, lamb ribs, sausages, steaks, alongside vegetables, puddings, tarts, and chocolate cakes.
A feast too good to be true.
Charlie's eyes lit up.
Even if British cuisine was often tragic, the food here wasn't strictly English.
Most of it looked like top-tier French or Italian dishes.
And coming from an orphanage, he'd rarely seen such a banquet.
Charlie immediately activated his devourer mode.
That tender meat bursting with juice in every bite… sheer bliss.
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200 P.S = 1 Extra Chapters