As Owen flew across the Black Lake, he spotted Professor McGonagall waiting for him by the castle. He quickly descended to meet her. Seeing the flashy headband on his forehead, a look of sympathy crossed her face.
"Are you hungry?"
"I'm okay."
"Then wait here for a moment. Dumbledore said you need to participate in the Sorting Ceremony too."
"Great!"
Owen was genuinely excited. He was curious to see which House the old hat would put him in. Honestly, he would be happy with any of them. He wouldn't be surprised by any result. Today, he finally got to be an official student.
Less than half an hour later, the first-years had all arrived. After McGonagall's introduction, the young wizards were buzzing with excitement and anxiety. But then, a voice drifted into Owen's ears.
"Whatever you do, don't get Sorted into Slytherin. There's not a single witch or wizard who went bad who wasn't in Slytherin."
Owen turned his head, expression serious, and looked at the red-haired boy who was spouting off. "Sir, making such unwise statements without evidence is inappropriate."
Ron Weasley froze. Just as he was about to stiffen his neck and retort, Harry pulled him back, ready to apologize. But before Harry could speak, Draco Malfoy jumped in.
"Look at that. Another Weasley making a fool of himself. Has poverty finally caused your brain to degenerate?"
"Mr. Malfoy, that kind of irresponsible mockery is equally ungentlemanly."
Owen didn't spare him either. This time, it wasn't just Ron who was stunned; Draco was also at a loss for words. Whose side is this guy on, anyway?
Seeing both boys fall silent, Owen turned back around. The Sorting Ceremony was about to begin, and he didn't want anyone ruining the anticipation.
"Gentlemen, ladies, please keep quiet. The Sorting Ceremony is sacred and solemn. It determines where you will live and learn for the next seven years."
He glanced back at Ron. "Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry is made up of four Houses, named after its four founders. Slytherin and Gryffindor were the closest of comrades and friends; they trusted each other with their lives. Ravenclaw's wisdom and Hufflepuff's diligence are just the smallest of their virtues. As for the rest... that is for you to discover yourselves."
Cool.
So cool!
In the eyes of the young wizards, Owen looked positively radiant.
With the argument paused, Professor McGonagall reappeared. "Ladies and gentlemen, please form a line and follow me."
Owen intended to walk at the front, but McGonagall reached out and held him back, forcing him to enter last.
In the Great Hall, everything was ready. McGonagall held the scroll and began calling names one by one for the Sorting.
"Hannah Abbott!"
Before stepping up to the stool, the young witch looked back. Seeing Owen's encouraging smile, she blushed and trotted forward. The Sorting Hat barely brushed her head before shouting:
"HUFFLEPUFF!"
Clap clap clap!!
Applause erupted from the Hufflepuff table. Hannah excitedly ran over and found an empty seat to watch the rest of the ceremony.
Predictably, Harry Potter was Sorted into Gryffindor. Hermione and Ron followed soon after. However, when Ron spotted a prime empty seat and moved to take it, an older student stopped him.
"That's not your seat."
Ron paused. "Is it taken?"
The older student smiled. "Look closely. There's an empty seat in the same spot at every House table. And only one person can sit there. That person is..."
"Owen Corlett!"
After McGonagall called the last name on the list, thunderous cheers erupted from all four House tables simultaneously. It was as if whoever cheered the loudest would win Owen for their House. Even Slytherin joined in without hesitation.
Draco, sitting at the Slytherin table, looked bewildered. Like Ron, he had tried to sit in the reserved seat only to be stopped and told bluntly that it was Owen's spot.
Where Owen would be Sorted was even more anticipated than where the Boy Who Lived ended up.
Owen himself was full of anticipation. He walked up to the stool, ready to sit down. But instead of letting him sit, McGonagall jammed the Sorting Hat onto his head while he was still standing, whisked the stool away, and then marched off to the High Table to wait for dinner.
Owen stood there, dumbfounded. What does this mean?
"Long time no see, dear Owen."
"Long time no see, Mr. Hat."
"Haha, I really do like you! You must have heard it, right? The song I sang earlier was based on the arrangement you suggested!"
Owen felt a bit awkward. Earlier... he thought the hat was too noisy, so he had cast Muffliato on himself. He hadn't heard a single note.
"Aren't you going to announce my House?"
"No, dear Owen. Your House is Hogwarts. As for your placement... well, naturally, you start with Slytherin. Then, after two weeks, you move to Gryffindor, then Ravenclaw, and finally Hufflepuff. Seventeen days in each House."
Why is it like this again?
Owen sighed. He waved his hand, and his robes transformed, taking on the green and silver trim of Slytherin. Still wearing the Sorting Hat, he walked over and sat at the Slytherin table. The snake pit erupted in cheers!
Ding ding ding!
Dumbledore tapped his goblet and spoke loudly. "Mr. Corlett has no fixed House. He will rotate through all four Houses for his studies, starting with Slytherin. Now, the Sorting Ceremony is concluded. Let the feast begin!"
As soon as he finished speaking, dinner appeared on the tables.
Just like old times, Owen's meal was completely different from everyone else's.
White rice, tofu soup, braised ribs, braised sea cucumber with scallions, braised chicken... and to Owen's delight, a plate of stir-fried smoked pork with garlic scapes!
A standard "four dishes and a soup" meal. Taking a bite of hot rice and sipping warm soup comforted both his stomach and his heart.
He ate happily, but the first and second-year snakes who had never met Owen were dumbstruck. Who is this guy? Why is his status so high? We're all students, so why does he get special treatment?
The next morning, the younger Slytherins—especially the first-years—finally found out why.
Early morning runs had become an unspoken rule in Slytherin. Even after Owen left, the habit stuck. Students from all years consciously kept it up.
In Owen's absence, the prefects had taken over leading the post-run magic practice. But now that Owen was back...
"Do... do we have to learn boxing too?"
Watching Owen punch chunks of bark off a tree, Draco and the other new snakes felt their courage evaporate.
"No, that's Owen's personal training..." The prefect in charge of the first-years looked at the new students sternly. "Slytherin's glory doesn't come from your family name or anyone else's. It comes from our performance right now. After the final exams each term, there is an internal House dueling tournament to determine who is truly number one in the year!"
Hearing this, the snakes instantly woke up!
But when their eyes drifted back to Owen demolishing a tree, their enthusiasm wilted. The prefect chuckled softly.
"Owen is the referee."
Oh, thank Merlin...