The Throne Descends, Bloodline Sublimation!

Chapter 46 The Throne Descends, Bloodline Sublimation!

"Quiet down, everyone! The new students are coming!"

After one of the prefects shouted, the hall fell completely silent—this was probably only one chance a year for a prefect's order to be so effective.

Under the watchful eyes of all the senior students in the auditorium, the black oak doors slowly opened to both sides, revealing first Professor McGonagall, the vice-principal, in a bright green wizard's robe. Then, a large swarm of pearly white ghosts poured in like mist and quickly filled the entire auditorium.

Next came the first-year students, who filed in in neat rows. Most of them wore expressions of extreme nervousness, their legs feeling like lead, their steps slow and heavy. As soon as they entered the auditorium, the first thing they did was look up at the strange ceiling that reflected the night sky and was adorned with hundreds and thousands of floating candles. They kept whispering to each other, marveling at something or discussing it.

Professor McGonagall walked to the front of the Great Hall, retrieved the filthy Sorting Hat, and placed it on the high stool, just as she had done the previous year. After the professors and upperclassmen in the classroom expertly cast a sound-blocking spell on their ears with their fingers or wands, the Sorting Hat began to chant again:

You may not think I'm pretty, but please don't judge a book by its cover;

If you can find a hat prettier than mine, I'll eat myself.

You can make your bowler hats jet black and shiny, and your top hats smooth and crisp.

I am the Sorting Hat of Hogwarts, naturally far superior to your hats;

No thought you may have in mind can escape the sharp eyes of the Sorting Hat;

Try it on and I'll tell you which college you should be assigned to...

As the song ended, the entire audience of teachers and students erupted in applause. They then quietly lifted the spell on their ears and looked silently at the group of freshmen. After listening to the Sorting Hat's song, they seemed much more relaxed, and a few of them even showed indignant expressions, probably because they had been badly deceived by their elders at home.

Then, Professor McGonagall took out a piece of parchment and said loudly to the freshmen below: "Whoever's name I call, put on your hat, sit down on your stool, and await sorting."

"Hannah Abbott!"

The girl, of pure blood and as hard as steel, with a rosy complexion and two golden braids, stumbled out of the line, put on her hat, which just covered her eyes. She sat down. A moment's pause—

"Hufflepuff!"

The Sorting Hat shouted.

A cheer erupted from the long table in Hufflepuff, with Avada being particularly excited, warmly welcoming the girl who symbolized pure blood to her seat.

"Susan Bornes!"

"Hufflepuff!"

"Terry Boot!"

"Ravenclaw!"

……

"Hermione Granger!"

"It's coming."

Avada watched intently as the little girl with long, fluffy brown hair sat down nervously and put on the Sorting Hat. She originally possessed both Gryffindor and Ravenclaw potential. And with his slight disturbance, would history change now?

"Gryffindor!"

A burst of enthusiastic applause erupted at the Gryffindor table, giving Avada a slight sense of relief.

"Neville Longbottom!"

The Sorting Hat hesitated for a long time before shouting, "Gryffindor!"

"Draco Malfoy!"

"Slytherin!"

……

"Harry Potter!"

Amidst the murmurs that filled the Great Hall at the mention of his name, Harry walked forward almost blankly, looking at the throng of people craning their necks to see him. Then, the wide brim of his hat completely obscured his vision, plunging him into darkness and waiting.

"Um,"

The Sorting Hat's whisper echoed in his mind: "Difficult. Very difficult. You seem very courageous. Not a bad person either. Talented, oh my goodness, not bad—you have a strong desire to prove yourself, so that's interesting…I think Slytherin can help you achieve greatness…"

Slytherin?

Harry's mind drifted back to Hagrid's warning to him that day, and to Draco Malfoy's disdainful expression when he was first sorted into Slytherin. But then, he thought of Baron Shafik, who was standing next to Ken, and how gentle and polite he seemed—perhaps he wasn't so unpleasant after all?

"Forget it, it's best not to go to Slytherin."

Ultimately, Hagrid's admonition and his latest experience in Slytherin prevailed in his mind.

"Not going to Slytherin?"

The Sorting Hat asked softly, "Have you made up your mind? You know Slytherin will help you achieve glory, without a doubt… Don't want that? Well then, since you've made up your mind—go to Gryffindor!"

"Gryffindor!"

The loudest cheers and applause suddenly erupted from the Gryffindor table, almost startling Harry. Gryffindor prefect Percy Weasley jumped up excitedly, then shook hands firmly with Harry, who had just arrived, amidst shouts of "We have Potter! We have Potter!" from someone...

Finally, with Ron Weasley sorted into Gryffindor, this year's Sorting Ceremony came to an end.

Nothing has changed.

Avada sighed with relief, then turned to look at Professor Quirrell, who was wrapped in a large headscarf and looked somewhat nervous, his gaze gradually hardening.

"In that case, there's even less reason to fail!"

After Professor McGonagall rolled up the parchment, took the Sorting Hat, and left, only to return empty-handed and sit down in her seat, Albus Dumbledore stood up. He looked at the students with a broad smile, arms outstretched, as if nothing pleased him more than seeing them gathered together.

"Welcome!" he said. "Welcome everyone to Hogwarts for the start of a new school year! Before the feast begins, I'd like to say a few words. These are: Idiots! Crybabies! Trash! Twists!"

Avada silently rolled his eyes.

Thank you everyone!

Dumbledore chuckled and sat down, gesturing with his hand, "Let the dinner begin!"

The next moment, just like last year, a dazzling array of food instantly filled the empty plates on the long table, and for some reason, a small plate of mint hard candy appeared in front of everyone.

So, having waited for half a day, the hungry students immediately began to devour the food in front of them, chatting with those around them and the new students as they ate.

"Truman, I heard you've been promoted to prefect? ​​Congratulations!"

"You're too kind. You're not bad either, Cedric, you got first place in your grade last semester... By the way, you're in your third year now, right? What courses are you taking?"

"Me? Fantastic Beasts, Muggle Studies, Ancient Runes, and Divination."

"Four courses? That makes eleven courses including the required ones. That's quite a lot of pressure!"

"That's nothing. You forgot that Percy of Gryffindor had to take twelve courses... God knows how he managed to get through it."

Avada glanced at Cedric: It's a pity Cedric didn't choose the general subjects, so he can't see the Time-Turner in advance.

Percy should have been using the Time-Turner frequently last year, but he never felt any magical reaction related to time. This has always puzzled him – is time a part of magic? Its close relative, "space," is perfectly clear to his magical senses, isn't it?

But if it's not magic, how was the time converter made?

He shook his head, deciding not to think about it anymore. He already had enough to do this year.

(End of this chapter)