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Chapter 3: The Last One
🕑 Added 2025-02-08 10:22:08 +0000 UTC
Everyone knows that Hogwarts has four major houses, each with its own symbols, traditions, and culture. Noah understood all this well, but when he finally stepped into the Great Hall, reality struck him differently.
The floating candles illuminated the vast space, casting flickering shadows across the enchanted ceiling, which mirrored the night sky outside. Ghosts drifted lazily above the students, occasionally pausing to observe the new arrivals. The long tables, lined with students in their house colors, buzzed with whispers and excited murmurs.
Noah had seen this before—well, in books and movies—but standing here in person made everything feel surreal.
Led by Professor McGonagall, the group of first-years crossed the hall, stopping in front of the grand stage where the Sorting Hat awaited.
There were at least 240 to 250 students in his year, but soon, they would be sorted into their respective houses, each group dwindling down to about 50 or 60 per house. And all of this was to be decided by a single, raggedy old hat.
Noah found this process ridiculous. A hat determining your future? Seriously? He wasn’t sure if wizards had some deep-rooted issue with logic, but this seemed like something that could easily go wrong.
Still, it was a tradition, and traditions, no matter how absurd, were best left unquestioned—especially when surrounded by people who had believed in them for centuries.
"I just hope this stupid hat can’t actually read my mind. Otherwise, I might end up as some lab experiment," Noah thought with mild paranoia.
The last thing he needed was someone digging into his true origins. Even if he couldn’t fully explain them himself, he didn’t want to deal with unnecessary attention.
Just as he was getting lost in his thoughts, his system—which had a habit of crashing at inconvenient times—suddenly spoke up.
"Don’t worry. The Sorting Hat can’t expose anything. You can even choose which house you want to be in."
"Wait… what?" Noah blinked, momentarily caught off guard.
"You heard me. And if you don’t want it to see certain memories, you can block them. Honestly, stop overthinking. I’m bound to you, so I already know what’s on your mind."
Noah rubbed his forehead. It was rare for his system to sound irritated. Usually, it was either malfunctioning or eerily silent.
Before he could respond, the atmosphere in the Great Hall shifted.
Dumbledore had risen to his feet.
All at once, the chatter died down as the first-years turned their attention to the headmaster. The older students barely reacted, but the new students—including Noah—listened intently.
Dumbledore smiled warmly, his piercing blue eyes twinkling behind his half-moon spectacles.
"Welcome, children. I believe Professor McGonagall has already given the usual speech, so I won’t bore you with another."
Noah frowned slightly. Professor McGonagall gave a welcome speech? When?
Right—he had been half-asleep when he got off the train. That explained his memory gap.
Dumbledore continued, "Before the feast begins, I have a few important announcements."
A hush fell over the hall.
Dumbledore continued, "The first point is that no student is allowed to enter the Forbidden Forest. Oh, and the second point is that the administrator Mr. Filch asked me to remind everyone that anyone who doesn't want to die miserably, please do not enter the corridor on the right side of the fourth floor. Thank you!"
A few students exchanged puzzled looks, while others whispered excitedly.
Noah scoffed internally. That’s where the three-headed dog is, right?
Was Dumbledore trying to keep students away, or was this a clever way of challenging them to find out for themselves?
Sure enough, Noah noticed a few Gryffindor students already whispering to each other, their curiosity piqued. Figures. That’s basically an invitation for those troublemakers.
"Alright, settle down," Professor McGonagall called, stepping forward with the Sorting Hat and a long parchment list. "When I call your name, come forward, and I will place the hat on your head. It will assign you to your house."
She adjusted her glasses and scanned the list.
"The first student—Hermione Granger."
A girl near the front gasped softly before stepping forward, trying to mask her nerves with a determined expression.
Noah wasn’t surprised. Gryffindor, right?
Sure enough, after a brief moment of murmuring from the Sorting Hat, it shouted, "Gryffindor!"
Hermione beamed, removed the hat, and practically skipped toward the Gryffindor table, where her new housemates welcomed her with applause.
With the first student sorted, the process moved along quickly.
One by one, names were called. Students approached, the hat made its choice, and they joined their respective houses.
Ron Weasley? Gryffindor.
Draco Malfoy? Slytherin.
Harry Potter? Gryffindor—no surprise there.
When Harry sat under the Sorting Hat, Noah noticed the brief delay. It wasn’t an immediate decision. Noah smirked. Guess the hat is debating whether to throw him into Slytherin, huh?
Finally, after almost an hour, the sorting was nearly complete.
Only one name remained.
Professor McGonagall glanced down at her list.
"Noah Finniel."
Noah sighed.
"What the hell? I’m the last one? I’ve been standing here for an hour!"
