“Old friend, would you like to chat with me about that young lad, Lucien?” Dumbledore asked the Sorting Hat with a chuckle.
The Sorting Hat shifted its eye-socket-like folds, glanced at the long-bearded old man, and its slit of a mouth quirked: “I would not.” This blunt refusal made Dumbledore’s smile freeze instantly.
After a moment, the old man shook his head awkwardly.
“Er, I just want to understand what characteristics Lucien has that made you so conflicted?” Facing Dumbledore’s question, the Sorting Hat shook its pointed tip: “Boy, how many years have you been the Headmaster of Hogwarts?” Seeing the Sorting Hat throw back an irrelevant question, Dumbledore wasn’t angry; instead, he pondered reflectively.
“I took over as Headmaster in ’56, so it’s exactly 35 years this year.” “Oh.” The Sorting Hat just gave an ‘oh’ and stopped talking.
Dumbledore really couldn’t understand why the hat’s temper was so strange today.
Was it really because of the influence of Lucien’s sorting?
“In these 35 years, why…” “…have you never cleaned me once!?” The Sorting Hat’s sudden “accusation” left Dumbledore a bit dazed.
“Um, what?” Sensing Old Dumbledore’s bewilderment, the Sorting Hat seemed even angrier, its mouth rambling on: “Oh, Merlin’s hat!
I don’t even remember when I was last cleaned properly!
Every one of you headmasters and professors only remembers me when new students arrive every year, and then you just toss me back on the shelf when you’re done!
Every time, I can read the thoughts of the young wizards who are disgusted by me!
I am clearly the smartest hat in this world, how can I be treated like this!” “…” The more he heard the Sorting Hat’s complaints, the more puzzled Dumbledore became.
Previously, the Sorting Hat would just stay silent in the corner of the shelf, occasionally humming a few lines of the song for next year’s ceremony.
Why did the hat’s thinking seem so much more active after this Sorting Ceremony?
What was different this year?
It was just Lucien’s Sorting Ceremony, which lasted over ten minutes and made history…
Dumbledore couldn’t help but tug at his beard, his gaze at the Sorting Hat becoming increasingly strange.
It couldn’t really be broken, could it?
“Boy, what are you looking at!
Want to ask me about Lucien?
Give me a full-body cleaning first!!!” — Ten minutes later.
Dumbledore sat by the table, a small brush in hand, cleaning the Sorting Hat bit by bit.
“Yes, yes, right there, use a bit more force!” “Use some warm water; that’s not how you wipe off stains.” “You’re over a hundred years old; can’t you even brush a hat?” The Sorting Hat enjoyed the personal care of the century’s greatest wizard while simultaneously criticizing his technique.
And Dumbledore wasn’t even angry; instead, he was smiling.
The Sorting Hat demanded he not use magic to brush it off and must use his hands.
However, in Dumbledore’s view, it was a novel experience anyway, so there was no harm in trying.
“Alright, old friend, can we talk about Lucien now?” The Sorting Hat squinted as it enjoyed the cleaning, answering nonchalantly: “Sure, he’s very suitable for Ravenclaw.” “I can see that.
Anything else?” “He’s also suitable for Slytherin.” Hearing this, Dumbledore couldn’t help but want to sigh.
Was it another case of such extraordinary talent and hidden ambition?
“Oh, he’s also suitable for Hufflepuff?” “Wait, what?” Dumbledore held back the sigh he was about to let out.
“Are you sure?” The Sorting Hat tilted its tip: “Of course, how could I sort him wrong?
Also, it wouldn’t have been a problem if he went to Gryffindor either.” The brush in Dumbledore’s hand paused.
He once again suspected that this hat might really be in disrepair and malfunctioning.
“Why did you stop?” “Well, to be honest, it’s the first time I’ve seen a young wizard with so many traits that fit all four houses.” Dumbledore resumed the cleaning and asked: “Then why was it Ravenclaw in the end?” The Sorting Hat shrugged its brim and said in a light tone: “Because he felt…
Oh no, I feel that the pursuit of wisdom and the thirst for knowledge are Lucien’s essence.
It’s just that in the Magical World, knowledge equals power, and in his quest for knowledge, the diligence, effort, courage, and determination he showed were all very clear and hard to ignore.” Dumbledore nodded, the force in his hand increasing slightly, but his heart relaxed quite a bit.
“Thank you.
It seems Lucien will be a good student.
By the way, did you check which areas Lucien has more talent in?” However, before the Sorting Hat could answer, a portrait in the Headmaster’s Office interrupted them: “I’ve been listening to you two ramble for ages; it’s so noisy I can’t even sleep!
Since he wasn’t sorted into our Slytherin in the end, I think this Lucien you’re talking about only has mediocre talent.” The voice was sharp and arrogant, making it quite unpleasant to hear.
Dumbledore held his forehead; he didn’t really want to deal with this former-former headmaster who highly advocated for Pure-bloods.
But it didn’t matter; someone had already responded for him.
Another portrait of a majestic man moved, and a rough, loud voice came out: “Phineas, I really want to stop your annoying tongue.
‘Our Slytherin’?
Have some shame!” “Hmph, Morgan, I don’t even bother talking to a reckless lion like you.” Phineas twirled his small mustache and said disdainfully.
“When I was headmaster, I disliked these Ravenclaw students the most; they are always pursuing their ‘knowledge’ and always think they are right about everything.” “Phineas, do you want to test the weight of ‘knowledge’ again?” A portrait of a beautiful and elegant lady also came to life; wearing silver-rimmed glasses, she had a quiet temperament.
But she held a heavy tome in her hand, the kind that would be equivalent to a Stupefy if it hit the back of someone’s head.
Dumbledore listened to the portraits of past headmasters arguing and rubbed his temples helplessly.
Phineas Black, holder of the title ‘The Most Unpopular Headmaster in Hogwarts History.’ “Boy from the Black family, stop shouting.
Compared to Lucien, your talent is like a Troll’s brain—you’d have to use a magnifying glass to even find it.” The Sorting Hat’s mockery immediately ended the argument among the portraits.
“Pfft, hahahahahaha…” “A Troll’s brain!
Since when was the Sorting Hat so eloquent?
Why didn’t I notice back then?” “Phineas, say something if you heard that!” The headmaster portraits all laughed, with those from Gryffindor laughing the loudest.
Even the headmasters who were also from Slytherin were laughing.
To be honest, they also felt Phineas was too ridiculous; as a headmaster, he completely disregarded the students’ education, and no one even knew what he actually cared about.
Dumbledore didn’t laugh out loud, but his large white beard did a good job of hiding his upturned lips.
The Sorting Hat noticed Dumbledore’s hand holding the brush had stopped again, and its mouth gaped wide: “What are you laughing at?
Lucien’s talent is much stronger than yours too!”