When Harry followed the group into the Great Hall, he was so astonished that he could barely speak.
It wasn't because Hogwarts' Great Hall was magnificent, nor because of the thousands of candles floating in the air and the ceiling that looked like a starry sky.
But because Vison was smiling and sitting in the Professor's seat.
When Harry saw his own Professor sitting there, he couldn't help but rub his eyes.
What... is going on?
Vison noticed Harry's stunned expression, a hint of satisfaction flashing in his eyes. This was the reaction he had been waiting for.
Interesting, isn't it?
Vison chuckled softly and raised a finger to his lips, making a "shush" gesture, signaling Harry to stay quiet.
Harry's eyes widened, clearly at a loss.
"What's wrong?" Ron, behind him, noticed Harry had stopped and gently pushed his back. "Hurry up and go to the front."
Harry snapped out of it, realizing he had fallen behind the light brown-haired boy ahead of him. He quickly chased after him.
Although he really wanted to rush to Vison and ask why he was here, now clearly wasn't the time.
He had no choice but to follow the group forward.
Finally, under Professor McGonagall's lead, they stood in a row facing the upperclassmen.
Vison glanced at the students below and the Professors beside him. Most of their eyes were fixed on Harry Potter.
Of course, this was inevitable. Who wouldn't want to see the boy who had defeated the Dark Lord?
Everyone wanted to lay eyes on this "savior."
Now was the perfect opportunity.
Harry noticed too. As he realized almost everyone was watching him, he couldn't help but glance toward Vison, silently pleading for help.
But... there was little Vison could do. He just gave Harry a reassuring smile.
He couldn't exactly stop people from staring, could he?
Still, even though it didn't solve anything, Harry felt a little calmer.
Next came the part Vison knew well.
Professor McGonagall brought out a four-legged stool and placed the tattered Sorting Hat upon it.
When Vison saw the Sorting Hat, a sudden whim struck him, and he had the Tree of Wisdom analyze it.
"Eldra."
[Name: Sorting Hat]
[Introduction: Alchemical Product]
...
Well, Vison felt a little disappointed.
It seemed the Tree of Wisdom, with its current abilities, could only tell that the hat was an alchemical creation—nothing more.
It didn't know the hat's materials or its method of crafting.
However, as Vison continued his silent analysis, the Sorting Hat suddenly stirred.
It glanced around, as if sensing something unusual, and muttered, "I always feel like someone is watching me."
"Everyone is watching you, Mr. Sorting Hat," Professor McGonagall reminded with a small smile.
"Okay, you're right," the Sorting Hat replied, pursing its lips. "More important things to do now. I've been waiting for this day for a long time."
With that, the Sorting Hat opened its mouth and began to sing:
You may not think I'm pretty,
But don't judge by appearances.
...
The melody was familiar to Vison, though the lyrics were different from past years.
Poor hat, having to come up with new lyrics every single year.
Considering Hogwarts had been around for a thousand years, that meant the hat had written thousands of songs.
Vison couldn't help but admire its persistence.
After finishing its song, the Sorting Hat bowed to each of the four house tables, and the audience applauded.
Now, it was time for the Sorting to begin.
Professor McGonagall stepped forward, parchment in hand—the student list for the year.
"Now, when I call your name, put on the hat, sit on the stool, and wait to be sorted."
"Hannah Abbott!"
Hannah Abbott, a ruddy-cheeked girl with two golden braids, stepped forward.
Only now did Harry realize Hogwarts' Sorting involved wearing a singing hat.
He couldn't help but feel relieved.
Before this, Vison had refused to explain the Sorting details, keeping the tradition alive.
Harry had feared the Sorting would involve battling a monster.
That was why he had desperately memorized as many spells and charms as possible before coming to school.
...
Finally, the hat shouted out Hannah's house.
"Hufflepuff!"
Just as expected.
Vison smiled and led the applause.
His house had gained a new member—that was worth celebrating.
As a proud Hufflepuff graduate, Vison believed the more freshmen, the better.
"Susan Bones!"
"Terry Boot!"
...
One by one, the Sorting Hat assigned the students to their houses.
Vison applauded for each one.
Of course, when a student was sorted into Hufflepuff, his applause grew louder.
"Harry Potter!"
Finally, Professor McGonagall called the name that everyone had been waiting for.
As Harry walked forward, he could feel the weight of every pair of eyes on him. People whispered and pointed, their gazes following his every move.
He tensed up, nervousness creeping in, and instinctively turned to look at Vison again.
Vison raised the corners of his mouth and silently shaped the word "Hufflepuff" with his lips.
Hufflepuff?
Harry recalled that this was Vison's house.
Going to the same house as his teacher? That sounded like a good idea.
As long as it wasn't Slytherin, he would be fine with it.
Before he could think more, he had already reached the stool.
Harry took a deep breath, sat down, and the old Sorting Hat was placed over his head.
At once, the hat's voice echoed in his mind.
"Hmm... Difficult, very difficult."
"Courage, kindness, talent—you have them all. Very good."
"So where should you go?"
"Hmm, you want Hufflepuff? A good choice. Though... Slytherin would suit you well too."
Harry panicked at the mention of Slytherin and quickly repeated in his mind: Not Slytherin, not Slytherin...
"Not Slytherin, eh?"
"Very well. I respect every little wizard's choice."
"Gryffindor!"
The hat's shout rang through the hall.
Harry exhaled in relief. Gryffindor was good.
When the hat had suggested Slytherin, his heart had nearly stopped.
Thankfully, that wasn't his fate.
Vison, however, couldn't help but feel a twinge of regret.
He had hoped to guide Harry into Hufflepuff.
But in the end, the Sorting Hat's decision always matched the student's nature.
And for Harry, Gryffindor was the best fit.
...
As Harry walked toward the cheering Gryffindor table, he barely noticed the applause.
His eyes searched only for Vison.
When he saw his Professor smiling with pride and approval, he finally felt at ease.
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