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HP: The Duelist of Hogwarts - 408
🕑 Added 2025-11-09 18:21:21 +0000 UTCChapter 408: Introductions
The Sorting Hat’s song was unusually long this year, and its content had changed dramatically from the usual explanation and praise of the four Houses’ virtues. In short, this year’s song warned everyone that Hogwarts faced grave dangers and enemies, and that only unity would see them through.
Sean watched the Sorting Hat with real interest. He had always somewhat ignored the thing. If the Hat’s actions were not controlled by Dumbledore, then this tattered old hat was rather curious indeed. It seemed to possess a certain will of its own and could even warn of danger. Such near-prophetic ability was not something just any magical artifact could achieve. Sean suddenly found himself keenly interested in the Sorting Hat.
For someone like Sean, who possessed Spirit Vision and could see glimpses of what lay ahead, that interest was hardly unfounded. It felt almost inevitable. The Sorting Hat must harbor secrets compelling enough to draw Sean in.
The Hat’s uncharacteristic song stirred discussion and unease among the students.
Professor McGonagall shot the Sorting Hat a very displeased look, but it was obvious there was not much she could do. She swept a stern gaze across the students to silence their murmurs, then picked up the list and the Hat, beginning the usual Sorting ceremony by calling the first first-year’s name.
“Euan Abercrombie!”
A slightly panicked little boy stumbled forward to the stool and sat down. Professor McGonagall set the Hat on his head. Fortunately, his ears were large enough to catch it, or else the Hat might have swallowed his whole head.
Moments later, the Sorting Hat shouted his House.
“Gryffindor!”
Applause rose from the Gryffindor table.
Blaise sighed helplessly. “Gryffindor again. In recent years, more and more students are sorted into Gryffindor. Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff numbers have dipped, but nothing compared to how much ours have. Compared to Gryffindor, our House’s intake is almost down by half each year.”
“There is not much to be done,” Sean said. “Harry’s reputation as the savior is enormous, while Slytherin’s reputation is poor. Many borderline students will not be sorted to us.
“But I am watching something else. Our dwindling numbers are also tied to the falling population of pure-blood children. Over time, Slytherin might not remain a House that values pure blood. As the number of pure-blood wizards declines, perhaps Slytherin will take on a new character.”
This was not idle talk. Slytherin’s shrinking intake was real. In earlier eras, Slytherin prized blood status above all. A half-blood like Snape—or even the son of a Squib-born like Sean—could be Sorted into Slytherin, if the Hat saw enough ambition and cunning.
Yet now, people like Snape and Sean had been Sorted into Slytherin. That said enough.
Sooner or later, Slytherin would accept children from ordinary non-magical families. Those children might possess other traits that suited Slytherin perfectly, but the pure-blood line was unlikely to remain a defining requirement.
As Sean pondered, the Sorting concluded.
At that moment, Dumbledore rose again, spread his arms, and smiled brightly. “The Sorting is finished. Welcome to our new students. And of course, welcome back to our returning students as well. There will be time for speeches, but not now. Let us dine with good cheer.”
A great abundance of food appeared on the long tables of all four Houses. Everyone was starving, and heads bent immediately to eat.
Sean’s appetite had finally moderated as the growth of his Troll Strength and Troll Hide talents slowed. He ate a little more like a normal person now, not quite so much or so fast.
He set down his knife and fork and dabbed at the corner of his mouth.
He had only eaten half a turkey and two large cuts of beef this time, vegetables and potatoes aside. That was far less than before. It meant his Troll Strength and Troll Hide were close to plateauing. In today’s battles, raw strength played less and less of a role, while magic mattered more and more. Sean knew this was normal, but it still felt a little regrettable. He missed those days of chasing foes with a chain mace and a tower shield.
Clink, clink, clink.
Dumbledore tapped his glass with a spoon. He must have used some charm, because the sound carried far, and everyone heard it. The hall fell quiet.
“Now then, as we digest another magnificent feast, I must ask you to settle down and, as always, hear a few reminders for the new term…”
The reminders were the usual sort. After five years, they all sounded much the same to Sean.
Only when Dumbledore mentioned staffing did Sean look up again.
“This year, we have three changes to our teaching staff. We are pleased to welcome a Special Commissioner from the Ministry of Magic, Professor Umbridge, who will be serving as our Care of Magical Creatures professor this year. We also welcome Professor Joros Jobbins, who will be our Defense Against the Dark Arts professor.”
Dumbledore paused slightly, and students at all four tables began to applaud.
Sean glanced at his grandfather, disguised as the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, Joros Jobbins. He was tall and broad-shouldered, with a rugged, resolute face that looked stern and handsome. For some reason, the visage gave Sean a powerful sense of déjà vu.
Probably just his imagination.
When the applause died, Dumbledore looked out over the hall and introduced the third professor.
“During last year’s Triwizard Tournament, I witnessed how Alchemy can aid witches and wizards. So this year, I have invited a professor to introduce all of you to Alchemy, and Hogwarts will officially open an Alchemy course. Let us welcome an old friend, a former Beauxbatons champion in the Triwizard Tournament and now Hogwarts’ Alchemy professor, Fleur Delacour.”
