Rai_jin
patreon
#17 WSWW
🕑 Added 2025-03-10 16:06:01 +0000 UTCIn the vast, open space at the end of the four long tables full of students in the Great Hall, a high-backed chair stood prominently. On it rested an old, worn-out, wrinkled wizard’s hat.
At the far end of the hall, the professors sat at their table arranged in an arc. In the center, clad in elegant white robes, was the ever-wise Albus Dumbledore. His presence commanded attention, his long silver beard cascading down almost to the table. Though he looked ancient, his eyes twinkled with sharp awareness.
Ted’s gaze swept across the staff table. Snape was there, his greasy black hair hanging around his pale face as he scowled at the students. Next to him, tiny Professor Flitwick perched on his special stool, and then there was Quirrell, his turban tightly wrapped around his head.
Ted exhaled. Good, the timeline seemed intact. If Quirrell had been missing or—Merlin forbid—turban-free, things would have gone sideways fast. At least for now, things were following the story’s expected course.
Professor McGonagall stepped forward, parchment in hand. Her voice rang clear:
“When I call your name, come forward, sit on the chair, and place the hat on your head.”
The Sorting Hat suddenly stirred, its deep folds shifting into a crude semblance of eyes and a mouth. Then, in a raspy yet oddly melodic voice, it began to sing:
“This is a tale of wizards four, Each with a gift to share and more. Gryffindor, bold and brave at heart, Ravenclaw, whose wisdom is art. Hufflepuff, so loyal and true, And Slytherin, with ambition in view. Their legacy still stands today, At Hogwarts where young witches and wizards stay~...”
The students stared, many dumbfounded by the singing hat. Ted clapped halfheartedly. “Good job, Hat. Maybe don’t sing next year.”
McGonagall, unimpressed by yet another repeat performance, got straight to business.
“Hannah Abbott.”
A blonde girl hesitated before rushing up to the chair. She placed the Sorting Hat over her head, which practically swallowed her whole. A few seconds later, the hat bellowed:
“Hufflepuff!”
The Hufflepuff table erupted in applause, waving her over. Hannah turned to smile and wave at Ted before hurrying over to her new house. He knew her through her grandfather, Tom.
The Sorting continued. Seamus Finnigan—who Ted recalled as the unintentional demolition expert—went up next. The boy’s talent for accidental explosions was almost legendary.
Ted, meanwhile, started feeling uneasy. He knew the Sorting Hat had a way of peering into thoughts and character. As a psion, he had mental defenses, but he had no idea if they’d work against ancient Hogwarts magic.
It didn’t take long for McGonagall to call his name.
“Ted Epiphany.”
Ted stepped forward, meeting McGonagall’s gaze briefly. He knew she remembered him—after all, she had been the one who arranged for him to receive the Transfiguration textbooks before school began.
He sat on the chair and placed the Sorting Hat on his head.
The moment it touched him, the Sorting Hat hesitated. “Hmm… this is… unusual.”
Ted, already prepared for this, launched into a mental defense strategy—rapidly recalling books he had read at lightning speed. Pages of text flooded his mind at a rate of nearly one per second.
The Sorting Hat reeled. “What in the name of Merlin’s beard…?”
Ted kept up the attack. If the hat could read thoughts, he was going to make it read an entire library.
Thirty seconds passed. Nothing.
Ted decided to break the silence. “Everything alright, Mr. Hat?”
The hat made a groaning sound. “This… is difficult. There is something blocking me, or perhaps… overwhelming me.”
Ted smirked. Concealed thoughts and mental resistance were proving effective. The hat couldn’t fully analyze him.
Eventually, the hat relented. “Very well. You’re intelligent, ambitious, and not particularly fond of rules. Slytherin would suit you well.”
Ted tensed. “Excuse me?”
“Yet, you also value knowledge and creativity, qualities of a Ravenclaw.”
Ted blinked. “Huh?”
“Brave, too. You don’t fear the unknown. That’s quite Gryffindor of you.”
Ted frowned. “Are you just listing all the options?”
“And hardworking… tolerant. Hufflepuff would also be fitting.”
Ted resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “Are you just covering your bases in case you get it wrong?”
“I simply see potential in many areas,” the hat said smugly.
Ted decided to push his luck. “Hey, how old are you, anyway?”
“Over nine hundred years old,” the hat responded proudly.
Ted nodded. “Impressive. Keeping magical enchantments going for nearly a millennium is no joke.”
The hat seemed pleased. “Hoho! You understand true craftsmanship!”
McGonagall cleared her throat loudly.
“Ah, right. Back to business,” the hat said. “Now, where should I put you?”
"Are you gonna put me on Azkaban?"
"Hohoho, you're funny, I like you," Said the hat amusedly.
“Anywhere but Slytherin,” Ted said. “No offense, but I doubt I’d fit in.”
“You’d do well there,” the hat mused. “Plenty of opportunities.”
“Right, but I’m also a Muggle-born orphan with a… let’s say, unconventional skillset. I doubt they’d be thrilled about that.”
“Fair point.”
“Alright, since you insist—Ravenclaw!!” the Sorting Hat finally announced.
After over four minutes of deliberation, the hat had finally made its decision. The room, which had been tensely waiting, erupted into applause.
Ted exhaled slightly, placing the hat back on the stool before turning toward the Ravenclaw table. Professor McGonagall gave him a lingering glance—she was clearly impressed. Ted had taken longer than most, and McGonagall herself had spent nearly five minutes under the Sorting Hat before being placed in Gryffindor. She had secretly hoped Ted would be sorted there as well. After all, she admired his resilience and independent spirit.
But Ted had no regrets. Ravenclaw suited him just fine. In fact, if he’d ended up under McGonagall’s watch in Gryffindor, things might’ve been a little too...strict.
As he took his seat at the Ravenclaw table, several students greeted him with nods and smiles. Across the hall, Ron leaned toward Neville and Jerry, whispering, “Shame Ted didn’t get into Gryffindor.”
Jerry shrugged. “Doesn’t change anything, does it? We’re still friends.”
Neville nodded. These were the first real friends he had ever made, and no house was going to change that.
Meanwhile, Hermione fidgeted slightly, stealing glances at Ted, her expression unreadable.
Settling into his seat, Ted mulled over the implications of being a Ravenclaw. Scholars, researchers, seekers of knowledge—he could work with that. Ravenclaw’s motto resonated with him:
'Wit beyond measure is man's greatest treasure.'
Still, it was slightly frustrating how little presence Ravenclaw had in the grand scheme of things. Gryffindor had the famed trio, McGonagall, and Dumbledore. Slytherin had Snape, Voldemort, and—if Grindelwald had studied at Hogwarts—he probably would have been sorted there too. Even Hufflepuff had Cedric Diggory, the golden boy of the Triwizard Tournament.
Ravenclaw? Not so much.
Just as he was lost in thought, a familiar notification echoed in his mind:
______________________________
Ding!
Quest Completed: [Welcome to the Wizarding World! (Blue)]
Reward: 500 experience, Magic Power +1 Level, Random Card
______________________________
Ted clenched his fists, resisting the overwhelming urge to check his reward right there. He couldn’t risk drawing any attention. He’d wait until later, when he was alone.
Patience, Ted. Patience.
At that moment, Professor McGonagall called out, “Granger, Hermione.”
The bushy-haired girl practically sprinted to the stool, snatching up the Sorting Hat and placing it atop her head. Ted watched closely, curious about her placement…
—
Omake:
Harry Potter sat down on the high-backed stool as Professor McGonagall lowered the Sorting Hat onto his head.
A voice echoed in his mind, “Well, you’re quite brave and intelligent... I believe you’d do well in materials science.”
Harry froze. No biochemical engineering! No biochemical engineering! he pleaded internally.
The hat paused. “No biochemical engineering? But you have such a knack for it... Well then—Civil Engineering it is!”
Harry’s face went blank, his soul practically leaving his body.
Thus began his new journey:
Harry Potter and the Concrete Stone
Harry Potter and the Project Manager’s Office
Harry Potter and the Tower Crane Worker
Harry Potter and the White Wine Glass
Harry Potter and the Supervision Department
Harry Potter and the Bathing Prince
Harry Potter and the Red Barrel of Death
