0220 The Sorting Ceremony

Words : 2086 Updated : Sep 25th, 2025

After Professor McGonagall led Harry away from the entrance, Ron and Hermione exchanged deeply worried glances. Without a moment's hesitation, they followed in her trail. Adrian continued his duties, his calm presence helping to organize the remaining students as he led them into the Great Hall in an orderly fashion. He didn't pay much attention to Harry's departure—Professor McGonagall was undoubtedly taking the boy to the hospital wing for examination after his encounter with the Dementors. Because Remus had contacted Professor McGonagall in advance while on the train, she had likely already learned about Harry being attacked by those Dementors. After ensuring all the students were comfortably seated at their respective house tables, Adrian made his way to the staff table—this time his seat was positioned between Professor Flitwick and Dumbledore. As soon as he settled into his chair, Dumbledore leaned slightly toward him and asked in a low voice, "Professor Westeros, I heard you drove away all the Dementors on the train? Quite an impressive feat, from what I understand." Adrian nodded slightly, his expression remaining modest. "Just ensuring student safety, Headmaster. Nothing more, nothing less." "Oh, I'm not blaming you—quite the opposite, in fact. You did exactly the right thing," Dumbledore replied, his voice carrying a trace of genuine surprise and unmistakable approval. "Student safety is always the most important consideration, no matter what political complications might arise from our actions. But I must inform you that Fudge just wrote me a rather heated letter saying that the Ministry has lost a significant batch of Dementors, and it will probably take considerable time and resources to locate them." Adrian's lips curved into a satisfied smile that held no trace of regret. "They got exactly what they deserved." "I couldn't agree more," Dumbledore said with deep satisfaction, his eyes revealing obvious displeasure and barely contained disgust with the Ministry's reckless actions. His fingers drummed once against the table in a gesture of controlled frustration. Clearly, he was equally disgusted by these nightmarish monsters that the Ministry had so carelessly brought into closeness with innocent children. "Everyone knows what you did on that train," Professor Flitwick interjected from Adrian's other side, his squeaky voice carrying a note of admiration. "Fudge is probably absolutely furious—he sent several strongly worded letters to Hogwarts all at once, each one more indignant than the last." Adrian shrugged with casual indifference. What did Fudge's anger have to do with him, after all? T They couldn't exactly throw him into Azkaban over protecting students from dangerous creatures that shouldn't have been near them in the first place. But it didn't matter anyway—the current Azkaban was just an ordinary prison to him, since those Dementors couldn't affect him at all. At this point, Adrian's attention was drawn to a particularly dirty, patched hat that was in front of Professor Flitwick. Looking more carefully, studying its familiar pointed shape and the way it seemed to twitch occasionally, he realized it was the legendary Sorting Hat. "That's..." Adrian began, curiosity evident in his voice. "Oh, you mean this old thing?" Professor Flitwick patted the brim of the Sorting Hat with obvious affection and beamed at Adrian with obvious pride. "It's my turn to conduct the Sorting ceremony this year. Quite an honor, really—I've been looking forward to it all summer." "Hey, be gentle with me," the Sorting Hat suddenly grumbled in its distinctively cranky voice, the cloth around what might have been its mouth moving in obvious irritation. "I'm trying to think about this year's opening lyrics, and all your patting is terribly distracting to my creative process." "My sincere apologies," Professor Flitwick said, immediately pulling his hand away. "I assumed you were ready to begin the ceremony." "Almost there," The Hat replied. "Give me just another moment to perfect the rhyme scheme." Soon, the familiar sound of approaching footsteps announced Professor McGonagall's return to the Great Hall. Behind her followed a nervous line of first-year students, their young faces filled with a mixture of excitement and terror as they gazed around at the magnificent hall with its floating candles and enchanted ceiling. It seemed Harry and his friends had also successfully reached the hospital wing and were presumably being tended to by Madam Pomfrey. "Ah, the new children," Professor Flitwick sighed thoughtfully, then jumped down from his chair with surprising agility for his age, carefully embracing the Sorting Hat in his arms like a precious artifact. The Sorting ceremony began with its time-honored traditions and rituals. Professor Flitwick stood proudly on a tall wooden stool that had been placed in front of the staff table, carefully placing the ancient hat on each trembling student's head one by one. The sight was rather comical—the tiny professor barely reaching the height of some of the taller first-years even while standing on his elevated seat. Of course, no one would dare laugh at him—Professor Flitwick was a deeply respected professor whose expertise in Charms was legendary throughout the wizarding world. This tiny wizard's authority at the school was absolutely unquestioned. When almost all the new students had completed the Sorting ceremony, with the various house tables cheering enthusiastically for their new members, Adrian saw the Great Hall's massive doors open just a crack. Through the narrow gap, Harry's messy hair appeared first, followed by Ron's and Hermione's bushy curls as they slipped inside as quietly as possible. He felt a wave of relief at the sight. Madam Pomfrey sending Harry back to join the feast meant the boy should be perfectly fine. Otherwise, given Madam Pomfrey's protective personality and her tendency to keep patients under observation for the slightest injury, she would have firmly kept Harry confined to the hospital wing regardless of any protests. At the Gryffindor table, Harry and his friends quietly took their places in the empty seats directly across from Percy, who nodded at them with the dignified air of a Head Boy while trying to maintain his official composure. "Neville, how far along are we in the ceremony?" Hermione whispered urgently to Neville, who was sitting beside her. Neville had been concentrating intently on watching the Sorting Hat work its magic and was visibly startled by Hermione's sudden question. "Oh, we're almost finished," He replied in an equally hushed tone. "This should be the very last student." As soon as he finished speaking, enthusiastic applause erupted from the Hufflepuff table, the final student had been sorted into their house. Once again, this year, Hufflepuff had gained the most students, continuing their reputation as the most inclusive and welcoming of all the houses. "Welcome, everyone," Dumbledore rose gracefully to address the gathered students, his robes shimmering in the candlelight as his voice carried throughout the vast hall. "The Sorting ceremony is now complete. Although we are all undoubtedly hungry after our long journey, as is our time-honored custom, before we enjoy our magnificent feast, I have some important matters to announce..." At the same time, everyone's attention was drawn to something unusual and intriguing. On the table in front of Dumbledore was what appeared to be a very ordinary wooden box. This object had never appeared at previous opening feasts, so it must contain something significant. "First, a very serious matter that affects us all," Dumbledore continued his announcement, his tone becoming noticeably graver and his usually twinkling eyes growing solemn. "I believe you all already know—they have already conducted their inspection of the Hogwarts Express earlier today. For the foreseeable future, Hogwarts will be hosting Dementors from the Ministry of Magic, who are here to carry out what the Ministry considers to be essential business." At the four house tables below, everyone began chattering among themselves in hushed, worried tones that created a low buzz of conversation throughout the hall. Most students had at least some understanding of what Dementors were. Only some younger students, particularly those from first and second years, or those from Muggle backgrounds, showed confused expressions as they tried to process this information. "Silence!" Dumbledore's voice rang out, immediately attracting the attention of every person in the hall. His voice continued with stern warning: "I remind you all that Dementors are extraordinarily dangerous creatures for everyone, without exception. They will be stationed at every exit of the school and will conduct regular patrols around the school grounds throughout the day and night. No one is permitted to attempt to leave the school without explicit permission from the Professors. All disguises and concealment methods are completely useless against Dementors, including Invisibility Cloaks and all manner of concealment spells. Dementors will not listen to pleas, bargains, or reasoning of any kind, as they cannot and will not understand human communication." "But someone isn't afraid of Dementors at all, right?" Ron nudged Hermione with his elbow and said in a low voice filled with admiration and awe. "Professor Westeros is like that—if he wanted to, he could probably rip off a Dementor's head and use it as a Quaffle in the next Quidditch match." Hermione remembered Professor Westeros' incredible performance on the train and couldn't help but nod in agreement. She really wanted to know how Professor Westeros had accomplished such an impossible feat. Because when those Dementors had approached her, her mind had gone completely blank, overwhelmed by terror, and she could only think of the most horrifying things imaginable. Harry remained silent, his face turning slightly pale as he remembered his own encounter with the creatures. If possible, he never wanted to encounter Dementors again in his entire life. Dumbledore cleared his throat meaningfully and continued, his voice taking on a more reassuring tone: "However, to address the Dementor problem and further ensure everyone's safety and peace of mind, Professor Westeros has graciously provided some special items to help protect you all during this difficult time." After saying this, he raised his eyebrows at Adrian, the gesture clearly indicating it was time for him to take center stage. Adrian immediately understood the reminder, stood gracefully from his chair, and walked forward, holding a small black plaque. "That's..." Harry gasped, his eyes widening with recognition and relief. He was intimately familiar with this type of object—the protective charms Adrian had given him before were all crafted in this same style. "This is a specialized type of protective charm designed specifically to defend against Dementors," Adrian explained to the students. "Although the Ministry claims that Dementors will only operate outside the school grounds, these creatures' behavior is unpredictable and they have been known to ignore boundaries when following their instincts. Until the Dementors are officially withdrawn from Hogwarts, I strongly suggest that everyone carry these protective charms with them at all times." After speaking, Adrian raised his wand and pointed it directly at the small wooden box in front of Dumbledore. Immediately, the protective charms inside the box rushed out all at once in a spectacular display of magic, each one glowing briefly as it sailed through the air before landing precisely in front of each student throughout the Great Hall. The Great Hall was filled with exclamations of amazement and wonder from students who had never seen such precise magic performed on such a large scale. "These are carved with ancient runes," Hermione examined her protective charm carefully, turning it over in her hands. Her eyes sparkled with curiosity and excitement. "That's exactly what we need to learn this year—Ancient Runes is such a fascinating subject, and I can't wait to understand how these symbols work together. Oh, Professor Westeros also carved some animal patterns on the back. Wait, what animal is this supposed to be?" Ron looked skeptical as he held his charm up to the light, squinting at it with the expression of someone who didn't quite trust anything that seemed too good to be true. "Does this thing really work? I mean, it just looks like an ordinary little plaque. How can something so simple protect us from those horrible creatures?" Harry, however, without any hesitation at all, immediately tucked his protective charm into his pocket. A familiar, comforting sense of security immediately came over him like a warm blanket on a cold night, and he felt his shoulders relax for the first time since the Dementor attack on the train. ________________ You can read more chapters on: /IamLuis

0220 The Sorting Ceremony

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