Harry Potter: I am the Legend

Sure enough, a few seconds later, the voice came.

"Silence."

At the sound of the calm, aged voice, all the whispering children around them immediately fell silent. It was as if someone had pressed the OFF button on the volume.

An elderly, thin man with graying hair slowly emerged from the flame-lit hallway. He wore a bronze-colored robe, his hands clasped behind his back, and his sharp eyes gleamed like those of a hawk.

This was a teacher at the school, though Hofa had no idea who he was.

Hofa felt a bit uneasy. For some reason, the moment he saw this old man, he sensed that Hogwarts now might be much stricter than it would be fifty years from now.

The old man walked slowly past the new students, hands behind his back. "At Hogwarts, you will learn a lot, but the first thing you must learn is not magic, but discipline."

Wherever his sharp gaze swept, every new student lowered their head.

"The Sorting Ceremony will begin soon. Once you are sorted into a house, that is your house, no room for debate. Follow me."

The old man spoke briefly, offering no further explanations.

He turned towards the hallway, his posture exuding authority as he walked.

A group of new students followed the elder through a gothic corridor several dozen meters long, with flames burning in torches along the walls every ten meters.

A few students whispered quietly.

"Is that the Deputy Headmaster, Adabe?"

"He's so fierce, even more so than the legends say."

"Shh!!"

Before they could speak more, someone quickly silenced them. Their expressions were fearful, even shrinking back.

So it was Adabe Gorshak.

Hofa glanced at Miranda, who appeared calm.

So, this old man was her grandfather? He really did seem strict.

As Hofa thought about this, he also observed the surroundings. There were no ghosts wandering around. The only sound was the soft footsteps of the new students, while the eyes of the portraits on the walls followed them, but most stayed silent.

The group passed through the corridor and entered the Hogwarts Great Hall.

The hall was solemn and dimly lit, with a deep blue carpet covering the floor.

The chatter around was slightly louder, but it was very restrained and subdued, unlike the carefree conversations on the train.

This place wasn't as romantic as depicted in later books. There were no hundreds of candles burning brightly, no enthusiastic prefects welcoming the students.

The lighting was provided by braziers.

Braziers were placed along the walls, and with every few steps the new students took, the braziers would light up, making the hall a little brighter.

Above, in the vaulted ceiling, thousands of bright stars slowly rotated in the dark sky.

It was like ancient, obscure astrology—mysterious, profound, and serious.

Hofa scanned the staff seating area. In the center sat an elderly man with a white beard. His eyes were sharp and cold, and his thin figure seemed frail, his hair half-bald.

Amando Dippet, the current Headmaster of Hogwarts.

With just one glance, Hofa could tell this man was nothing like Dumbledore.

There was no kindness in his gaze, only scrutiny.

It was said that with every new ruler comes a new court, and no wonder the entire school now seemed suffused with an air of rules and order.

Of course, Hofa also spotted Dumbledore. At that moment, he was sitting to the left side of the staff table, quietly talking to a fat man with black hair next to him.

Hofa recognized the fat man instantly.

Slughorn, the Head of Slytherin House.

The man who had shared the secret of splitting souls with Voldemort. Over fifty years later, he was back in the same position.

As they reached the giant eagle statue in front of the staff table, Deputy Headmaster Adabe Gorshak turned around. Beside him was a blue velvet high stool.

On the stool sat a dusty, wrinkled hat.

"Line up," he commanded.

Professor Gorshak spoke coldly, his tone serious.

His voice was flat, but all the new students immediately followed his command, standing in a neat line.

Professor Gorshak then took out a long scroll of parchment from his sleeve.

"Those whose names are called, come up and put on the Sorting Hat."

"Alkalan Mitt."

A boy hurriedly ran over, fumbling to put the hat on his head. The Sorting Hat immediately shouted.

"Gryffindor!"

A faint round of applause came from the table on the left, but the applause was restrained. It was nothing like the intense clapping described in later books.

"Alfard Black." Professor Gorshak continued.

Hofa recognized that surname.

Black.

The family of Sirius Black.

He looked up and saw a boy wearing a black robe, with a cold expression, pushing through the crowd to sit on the high stool.

The Sorting Hat hesitated for a long time on his head before finally placing him in Slytherin. Alfard Black frowned, seemingly not pleased with the result.

Hofa watched the boy, who was about the same age as him, pass by, wondering what the relationship was between this boy and the future Sirius Black.

Just as Alfard had left, Hofa heard another familiar name.

"Eileen Prince."

Prince? Eileen Prince? The mother of the Half-Blood Prince, Snape?

Hofa immediately looked up.

A pale-faced girl with black hair, greasy and tangled, freckles around her nose, and a slightly troubled expression on her face, nervously jogged up to the Sorting Hat. The hat quickly sorted her into Slytherin.

Hofa thought to himself, "Today, I've really got my eyes open. All of these people here are the ancestors of those famous figures in the future!" He even wondered if he could win Eileen Prince's favor, would that make him Snape's father...

He quickly shook his head, realizing that thinking such things in such a serious hall was inappropriate.

Besides, Eileen wasn't exactly beautiful...

The Sorting Hat's speed varied. For some, it took just a few seconds.

For others, it could take as long as a minute. During this time, the hall fell silent, and everyone waited patiently.

One by one, the new students came forward. Of course, apart from some famous families from the future, Hofa didn't recognize many familiar names during this Sorting Ceremony.

Suddenly, as Gorshak called out, "Aglaea S. Draces."

A silver-haired girl with blue eyes stepped out of the crowd, her expression emotionless as she sat on the high stool.

Hofa's eyes widened.

So her name was Aglaea S. Draces. What a long and unpleasant name.

As soon as the Sorting Hat touched her silver hair, it cried out, "Ravenclaw."

Damn, Hofa shook his head. If only he were the Sorting Hat, he would definitely have placed her in Slytherin.

Aglaea set down the hat and walked off the platform, passing by Hofa with a mocking smile, as if she was sneering at his judgment on the train.

Hofa thought to himself, "If I were Harry Potter, this girl would definitely be like Malfoy."

"Tom Marvolo Riddle."

The Deputy Headmaster's voice interrupted Hofa's thoughts.

He looked up, eager to witness this historic moment.

The tall Tom parted the crowd and slowly walked to the Sorting Hat. He seemed calm, but Hofa sharply noticed that his hands were tightly clenched, veins bulging on the back of his hands. Clearly, he was deeply excited.

In just one second.

The Sorting Hat cried out, "Slytherin!"

The table on the far right burst into applause, even more enthusiastic than the others. In such a serious atmosphere, this was already quite remarkable.

In less than half a day on the train, Tom Riddle had already earned the favor of most of the Slytherin students.

The boy set the Sorting Hat down, and Hofa noticed a slight look of relief on his face.

How strange, even Voldemort had such emotions.

After sorting a few more students, Vice-Principal Gorshak finally called out a name without any expression.

"Hofa Bach."

Miranda gently nudged Hofa, and he walked out from the crowd.

The others didn't react. To them, it was just an ordinary name.

But one person's eyes went wide.

Aglaea, who had been sitting in the corner of the Ravenclaw table with a neutral, uninterested expression, suddenly looked puzzled when she saw Hofa walk forward.

Her face immediately turned pale with fury, and a rush of anger and humiliation surged through her. She slammed her fist on the table, causing the surrounding Ravenclaws to glance at her in surprise.

"Asshole."

Aglaea gritted her teeth and spat the words out. She realized then that this boy wasn't Miller Gorshak, as she had assumed, but Hofa Bach.

To her, this Bach student's disregard for her on the train was the greatest insult.

Hofa, of course, had no idea that his actions on the train had offended a Ravenclaw. He sat on the high stool, feeling a little nervous as he placed the Sorting Hat on his head.

It seemed casual, but in this moment, he couldn't help but feel anxious.

As soon as the hat touched his head, it sighed softly in his ear.

"I haven't seen such a difficult case in a long time. Brave, yes. Your heart is good, not bad at all, and you're quite clever. You're not lacking in ambition either. You're balanced, hmm... it seems all four houses are suitable for you."

Hofa was speechless. Was the Sorting Hat trying to say he had no unique traits, that he was just an average person?

Time passed slowly, much longer than it had for anyone else. Three whole minutes passed, and Hofa was still sitting there on the stool.

Professor Gorshak, standing to the side, gave Hofa a glance.

The Sorting Hat kept mumbling in his ear.

"First, let's eliminate Hufflepuff. You don't quite fit there. Next, I want to rule out Slytherin. You have ambition, but not enough... not up to Slytherin standards."

Hofa's breathing quickened.

The Sorting Hat continued: "That leaves Gryffindor and Ravenclaw. Hmm, let me think..."

Hofa felt his anxiety rise. Ravenclaw wouldn't have been bad normally, but after meeting that silver-haired girl, he really didn't want to end up in the same house as someone like her.

Suddenly, he had an idea. He remembered how, when Harry Potter wore the Sorting Hat, it also had trouble deciding between Gryffindor and Slytherin. But in the end, Harry made the choice himself, and he chose Gryffindor.

Hofa decided to follow suit. In his mind, he kept repeating:

"Not Ravenclaw, not Ravenclaw, not Ravenclaw."

Suddenly, the Sorting Hat shouted with a voice that seemed to shake the very hall:

"Ravenclaw!"

(End of Chapter)

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