"Before we are students of any House, we are students of Hogwarts."
"From Platform 9¾ to here, from daylight to dusk, we have made many friends."
"Some yearn for the bravery of Gryffindor; some look forward to seeking wisdom in Ravenclaw; some desire the acceptance of Hufflepuff; and some want to achieve greatness in Slytherin."
"Before declaring our expectations for a House, we laughed and talked freely."
"But once everything became clear, we turned on each other!" Basil said this with a look of utter heartbreak.
Hermione clasped her hands over her chest, torn.
She wanted to stop what she saw as rebellious behavior, but she also desperately wanted to support Basil.
Ron, Harry, and Neville looked at the object of this "turning on"—Draco Malfoy—with strange expressions.
Not far away, Malfoy, still looking a bit wilted from falling into the lake, turned red with rage.
Professor McGonagall, unaware of the full context, softened her gaze. It went from stern to gentle.
She realized this wasn't a student causing trouble; it was a good student expressing his heartfelt feelings.
Basil noticed this shift too.
"So, can we skip the Sorting?"
Many students, who thought Sorting involved fighting trolls, taking exams, or dodging dragon attacks, nodded their heads vigorously.
"Or, for those students who don't want to be separated from their friends, could we gather them together and make a Fifth House?"
Professor McGonagall pressed her lips together. "Child, your intentions are good."
"However, the Sorting system is an intangible asset left by the four great founders of this school."
"Being in different Houses does not affect your relationship with your friends."
Meanwhile, Dumbledore, seeing that Professor McGonagall had been gone for a long time, sent Snape to check. Snape arrived just outside the door at that moment.
The instant he got close, he heard a voice shouting a near-angry rebuttal.
He recognized the voice immediately.
It was that boy—the one who dared to scam him, with the name of Hufflepuff (Badger), the courage of Gryffindor, and the cunning of Slytherin—Basil Granger.
Only now, there was an inexplicable persuasiveness in the boy's voice.
"Doesn't affect it?"
"No, Professor, it affects it greatly!"
"We aren't blind, and we aren't deaf."
"Ravenclaws think everyone else is stupid."
"Gryffindors think they are the bravest."
"Slytherins believe they are the most noble."
"And Hufflepuffs stick together so tightly that no student from another House has stepped foot in their common room for over a thousand years."
Hearing this, Snape sneered, deciding to step in and end this farce.
But the next words stopped him in his tracks.
"Professor, if I go to Slytherin, and Hermione goes to Gryffindor..."
"Can you honestly say our housemates won't see us as traitors? That they won't isolate us?"
"Can we truly study in peace?"
"Can we really still be friends?"
A girl's voice followed, trembling with unshed tears. "Can we really still be friends?"
These two questions stabbed into Snape's heart—a heart that hadn't seen sunlight in years—like a sharp blade.
"Lily..." He stumbled slightly, bracing his hand against the wall.
In a trance, those two voices morphed into his and Lily's when they were young.
Their first meeting at the playground. That little girl on the swing.
Her features maturing over time. Her expression shifting from familiarity and closeness to indifference.
The entrance to Gryffindor Tower, beside the Fat Lady's portrait.
The girl's expression turned to one of contempt. "Call me Mudblood? But you call everyone of my birth Mudblood, Severus. Why should I be any different?"
In the real world, Snape's eyes, which had unknowingly moistened, instantly went dry.
The gaze that had been shattered and vulnerable a moment ago became hollow and empty again.
He strode into the room, walking up to Professor McGonagall's side.
He ignored the ghosts that had appeared, the surprised looks from McGonagall, and the stares of the students below.
He even ignored the "treasure" that had the eyes of the woman he loved most and the face of the man he hated most (Harry).
He looked straight at the boy and the girl and said, "Trust me. If you are in different Houses, you can no longer be friends."
Then, he turned sideways. "Professor McGonagall, we have delayed too long. Please proceed with the Sorting immediately."
He swirled his cloak and, just as he had arrived, strode out of the room.
"Alright, children, please follow me. The Sorting is about to begin." McGonagall looked at Basil again. "Do you have any more questions?"
"No," Basil shut his mouth.
Beside him, Hermione, her eyes red, whispered, "Did you really think about going to Slytherin?"
"Yes," Basil chose to tell the truth. "But now, it's Gryffindor."
In his mind, inside the [Magic Book], the border of the [Magic Scholar] Echo suddenly turned Gold.
[Echo: Magic Scholar]
Quality: Gold
Effect: All spells open their doors to you. Learning difficulty reduced by 8%.
Passive: Dark Magic will not corrupt your mind. Neither will White Magic.
Bonus: The more spells you learn, the stronger your spell effects become.
Scaling: +1% Spell Power for every 10 spells.
Cap: 20%
Inside the Great Hall.
At the High Table, where the teachers sat facing the students.
Dumbledore, seated in a large gold chair in the center, glanced sideways occasionally at Snape, who sat at the very edge of the table.
Snape looked cold and indifferent, ignoring Quirrell beside him completely.
Instead, his eyes were fixed on the backs of the first-years, who were facing the older students waiting to be Sorted.
Dumbledore was confused. The backside Snape was staring at wasn't Harry's.
So, he followed Snape's gaze.
Because of the delay, after the Sorting Hat finished its song, McGonagall went straight to the list.
"Hannah Abbott!"
"HUFFLEPUFF!"
"Susan Bones!"
"HUFFLEPUFF!"
"Hermione Granger!"
"GRYFFINDOR!"
Dumbledore noticed Snape's eyebrow twitch upward by about 0.5 millimeters.
"Basil Granger!"
Snape closed his eyes.
"GRYFFINDOR!"
Snape's eyes snapped open. Dumbledore saw undisguised emotion in them.
Even more puzzling to Dumbledore was the long sigh from Professor McGonagall beside the stool—a sound mixed with both joy and sadness.
Noticing Dumbledore's attention, McGonagall whispered softly, "Because of the rules, a child gave up the House he dreamed of."
She looked at the boy walking towards the Gryffindor table with the girl. He looked slightly dazed, and her eyes were full of heartache for him.
??????
Dumbledore, the King of Riddles, never expected to be "riddled" himself today.
Basil Granger?
Why is he the center of attention today?
What about Harry?
The cause of it all, the root of all evil—Basil.
He had no idea that someone was interpreting the dazed look on his handsome-yet-cute face as heartbreak.
It looked like his brain had crashed.
Actually, the reason he looked like that wasn't because events had spiraled out of his control.
It was because he hadn't realized that during the Sorting, they would have their backs to the teachers.
Having people stare at his butt—especially Dumbledore—was something Basil found unacceptable.
Even more ridiculous was what he saw when he looked over at the Slytherin table, decorated in green and silver. It shattered his worldview.
Where is the nobility? Where is the elegance?
Where are the little snakes following the "One Hundred Rules of Slytherin Conduct"?
Why have they all turned into Pythons?!
The table was filled with burly, hulking dudes and massive, muscular "Amazonian" girls.
Scattered among them were a few "little snakes"—handsome, slender boys and beautiful, quiet girls—nodding politely to the first-years.
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