Chapter 361: Sorting – Gryffindor
The young wizard standing at the Entrance had golden-brown hair and an unusually pale complexion, so pale that under the light, faint blue veins seemed to shimmer beneath his skin. Dressed in a brand-new set of black school robes—simple, without any extra adornments—he stood with a slightly defiant posture.
Despite the many eyes of students and teachers fixed upon him, he showed no trace of shyness or discomfort. Instead, he waved cheerfully and called out, “Hi everyone!”
Many Gryffindor students instinctively waved back, while Hufflepuffs offered warm smiles. Slytherin and Ravenclaw remained quietly observant.
Professor McGonagall frowned and swept her gaze across the crowd. Once the murmurs had settled, she said, “Come with me, Mr. Johnson.”
The two walked ahead, where Filch had already placed a small stool. Professor McGonagall took the Sorting Hat from Dumbledore’s hands.
Kariel Johnson had already been briefed by Professor McGonagall on the Sorting procedure before entering the hall. He took the worn, filthy hat, wrinkled his nose in disgust with a soft “Tch,” then placed it firmly on his head.
The pointed hat twitched slightly on his head, as if struggling.
Seconds passed.
Wade heard Ron Weasley mutter under his breath, “That hat better not be broken… it’s been around for over a thousand years, after all…”
Before Ron could finish, the hat bellowed aloud: “Gryffindor!”
Instantly, the Gryffindor long table erupted in thunderous applause. The Weasley Twins slammed their hands on the table, shouting, “I knew it! He’s clearly a Gryffindor!”
Harry clapped enthusiastically—having taken a long time himself during his own Sorting, he felt a deep kinship with anyone who’d made the hat hesitate.
But Kariel didn’t let go of the hat. He still gripped it tightly, as though he hadn’t realized the ceremony was over. Only when Professor McGonagall forcibly pulled it from his hands did he finally release it.
“Ugh, you little rascal!” the hat grumbled, clearly annoyed. “He nearly tore me apart!”
Professor McGonagall suppressed her irritation. She wasn’t about to scold a first-day student—especially not on the first day. With a stern expression, she said, “Mr. Johnson, you may take a seat at the edge of the Gryffindor long table.”
“Of course, Professor,” Kariel replied, feigning perfect obedience.
She gave him one long, piercing look, then turned and marched away with the hat and stool.
Kariel found an empty seat and shook hands with the students nearby. Before introductions could even begin, the long table suddenly filled with a lavish feast—richer and more varied than usual.
The students cheered and dug in with gusto.
Fred leaned forward and grabbed a chunk of beef, then shot Kariel a smug, mischievous grin. “Nice one, new kid—first day and you’re already challenging Professor McGonagall. Why didn’t you let go of the hat?”
“Just chatting with it,” Kariel said with a grin. “First time I’ve seen a hat this smart—almost like it can read minds.”
The Gryffindors weren’t particularly interested in the topic.
“Hi,” said Angelina Johnson. “I’m Angelina Johnson. I’ve been at Hogwarts for ages, but I’ve never met a transfer student before. Where did you come from?”
“America,” Kariel said.
“Ilvermorny, right?” Percy proudly interjected. “I heard it was modeled after Hogwarts, with four Houses just like ours. Which House were you in?”
“I didn’t attend Ilvermorny,” Kariel explained. “I was learning under a teacher.”
“Oh, so it’s a master-apprentice transfer?” Percy nodded sagely. “That’s rare these days.”
Harry leaned over to Ron and whispered, “Besides Hogwarts, are there other magical schools?”
“Of course,” Ron said. “We’re not the only country, are we? I know about Ilvermorny in America, Beauxbatons in France, and Durmstrang in Scandinavia—those are all famous schools.”
“I’ve heard of Durmstrang,” Harry said. “I remember Malfoy wanted to go there.”
“Yeah,” Ron said, shaking his head. “They teach Dark Magic. Even if they paid me, I wouldn’t go.”
“Dark Magic…” Harry paused, thoughtful.
“And Brazil has this school—uh… Castro… something,” Ron mused. “Bill has a pen pal from there—graduated from that place.”
“Castrobsche,” Fred corrected, grinning. “And there’s supposedly a magic school in Africa—Wagadu. They’re really good at self-transformation.”
The conversation shifted to the world’s most renowned magical schools. Harry was fascinated—this was the first time he’d learned how many magical institutions existed beyond Hogwarts.
Halfway through dinner, Kariel turned to Fred and asked, “I know we’re in Gryffindor. Which one’s Ravenclaw’s table?”
Fred pointed behind him with his thumb. “Right there—the one with bronze and blue. Yellow and black is Hufflepuff. The last one? Slytherin. Don’t trust them. They’ll pick fights for no reason. If they bother you, hit back hard.”
Kariel barely listened. He turned to scan the Ravenclaw long table. The identical school robes blurred individual features, making everyone look the same.
Then he asked, “I heard Wade Gray’s in Ravenclaw. Where’s he sitting?”
“Wade?” Fred raised an eyebrow. “You a fan?”
He scanned the table, then pointed. “There—he’s the one with dark hair.”
Kariel looked, and after a moment, he spotted him among the crowd.
At that exact moment, Wade seemed to sense their gaze. He looked up—meeting Kariel’s eyes.
Two years had passed. Both had grown, but their appearances hadn’t changed much.
Kariel grinned, raised his hand, and called out, “Wade!”
Everyone turned to look. He ignored them completely, picked up his plate, and walked straight down the middle of the long table.
Michael raised an eyebrow as the transfer student approached, grinning widely. “Long time no see!”
Wade glanced at the staff table—where several teachers were watching. He exhaled silently. “Long time no see.”
Kariel turned to Michael. “Hi. Mind if I switch seats with you?”
Michael smirked. “No.”
“Okay,” Kariel said, shrugging, then turned to the student on the other side. “Hey, can I switch with you?”
It was a younger boy, already tense from sitting next to Wade. He nodded eagerly, grabbed his plate, and hurried to the far end of the table.
Kariel sat down easily, then casually grabbed another piece of bread.
“Seriously,” he said, biting into the bread, “I thought Britain was a culinary wasteland. Turns out, Hogwarts food isn’t half bad.”
He glanced at Wade, who was still staring at him.
“Why that face, Wade?” Kariel asked bluntly. “Don’t you want me here? I was thinking about you all the way from America.”
(End of Chapter)
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