Hearing Julian’s name, Dumbledore and Snape had a brief exchange.
“Professor Snape, do you know anything about this child’s situation?”
“Not really.” Snape stared intently at Julian.
“He was under Professor McGonagall’s charge.
All I know is that he had been living in an orphanage before.”
Hearing this, the look Dumbledore cast at Julian showed a hint of worry.
He hadn’t expected that a Prewett would actually leave behind offspring.
Hearing the surname “Prewett,” the other teachers also changed their expressions and began whispering to one another.
“Prewett?
Is it that Prewett?”
“How many years has it been since we last saw a Prewett.”
“Oh, dear Merlin, it’s simply unbelievable…”
Even George and Fred, sitting beside the Gryffindor long table, looked at Julian in utter shock.
Although they were usually unserious, they were still very sensitive to the surname “Prewett.”
The Prewetts were not only one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, but also their mother’s maiden name.
That is to say, the Weasley family and the Prewett family had been related by marriage since their father’s generation.
Fabian Prewett and Gideon Prewett, who sacrificed themselves in the Wizarding War, were their biological uncles.
“Fred.”
“George.”
The two called out each other’s names, exchanged a glance, and spoke in unison: “Could he be our uncle’s child?”
“Then he’d be our cousin?” George asked.
“But we’ve never heard of Uncle having a child, Mum never said anything about it,” Fred picked up his sentence.
“I think we should write home and ask.”
Ron, sitting next to Harry, was also somewhat surprised, his gaze filled with hesitation and bewilderment as he looked at Julian.
Seeing him like this, Harry nudged him with his elbow and asked in a low voice:
“You know him?”
“I don’t, but I know the surname Prewett.
That’s my uncle’s family.”
“Which house do you think he’ll be sorted into?”
“Gryffindor, probably.
Both of my uncles were Gryffindors, almost everyone with the surname Prewett is a Gryffindor, and even my Mum is no exception.”
Hermione beside them perked up her ears when she heard Julian’s name, hoping inwardly that Julian would be sorted into Gryffindor.
Watching Julian walk towards her, McGonagall was quite gratified.
Although there was no substantive evidence yet, she had already decided in her heart that Julian was Fabian’s child.
Prewetts had always been Gryffindors; there was no doubt about that.
Julian first bowed to the staff table, then thanked McGonagall, who was presiding over the Sorting ceremony.
“Thank you, Professor McGonagall.”
This polite and elegant demeanor made Professor McGonagall even more satisfied.
Look, this was simply a model student.
Gryffindor needed students like this.
With him around, Gryffindor would definitely earn many points and end Slytherin’s seven-year streak of winning the House Cup.
Thinking of this, McGonagall’s usually stern expression softened, and she even took the initiative to pat the dust off the Sorting Hat.
“Come on, child, don’t be nervous.”
Julian sat down on the four-legged stool and placed the Sorting Hat on his head.
McGonagall prayed in her heart that the Sorting Hat would sort Julian into Gryffindor, so she didn’t notice that Dumbledore’s expression behind her was becoming somewhat hesitant at that moment.
As soon as the Sorting Hat touched Julian’s head, the brim and tip abruptly stretched and straightened.
“Ha!
Prewett…
How long has it been since I heard that surname.
Oh, you are truly strange…”
A tiny voice rang in Julian’s ear.
The Sorting Hat seemed somewhat distressed, muttering incessantly: “Difficult, difficult.”
“How about…” Seeing the Sorting Hat in such a dilemma, Julian offered his own suggestion, “put me in Hufflepuff.”
As the House with the most enrollments, Hufflepuff might not stand out much while at school, but once you graduated, you would find that your seniors were spread all over the Wizarding World.
Even Newt Scamander, who wrote Hogwarts’ essential freshman textbook Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, was a student of Hufflepuff.
Those were all connections.
“Stop joking,” the Sorting Hat scoffed.
“The absolute last place you belong is Hufflepuff.”
“Don’t you take young Wizards’ wishes into consideration?”
“Yes, yes, but that only applies when the traits are similar and sorting into either house would be a match.
If every young Wizard chose their house according to their own wishes, what would you need me for?” muttered the Sorting Hat.
“Your courage is indeed quite good, and your heart…
is also very interesting; going to Gryffindor might be nice.
Oh, you also like knowledge and possess wisdom—of course, you’re quite good at utilizing your wisdom too—so Ravenclaw would also match you.
But this isn’t enough, let me look closer…” Find the original chapter at g.com.
Time ticked by second by second.
“Aha!
Found it!” The Sorting Hat happily flicked the tip of its hat.
“Ambition.”
“You crave knowledge and power only because knowledge and power will help you realize your ambition.
Slytherin will give you the opportunity; glory and victory are yours for the taking.”
Perhaps because it had completed a difficult challenge, the Sorting Hat appeared very happy, its tone brisk as it said: “Weren’t you trying to go to Hufflepuff just for connections earlier?
You’ll get even more in Slytherin.”
That was true enough.
Julian had never considered himself a mediocrity, nor was he averse to using lies, disguises, knowledge, or violence.
These were merely stepping stones and means to reach the summit.
Should he be blamed for this?
Of course not.
As an orphan of London, he knew the hardships of survival better than anyone else.
Losing his father in his early years and his mother in his infancy, the hardships of life were like an invisible beast swallowing his flesh and blood while simultaneously nourishing his ambition.
Lying to deceive people and plotting for profit were all to climb higher and higher step by step.
He loved possessing things and loathed losing them.
“Right, right, let’s do it this way,” the Sorting Hat shouted aloud.
“Slytherin!”
Hearing the sorting result, sparse applause sounded from the Slytherin long table.
In stark contrast to this desolate scene, many people were utterly astonished, looking disbelieving.
How could Julian be sorted into Slytherin!?
Hermione and Neville both dropped their jaws.
They couldn’t figure out for the life of them how the Sorting Hat could make such a decision.
He was such a kind and gentle person, nothing like those Slytherin students!
McGonagall picked up the Sorting Hat with a stunned look, inspected it, and wondered if this old hat had gotten too old and lost its mind.
George and Fred let out a chorus of boos.
How could a Prewett be sorted into Slytherin?
Dumbledore’s expression grew even more solemn.
An orphanage, Slytherin House, if he was also a half-blood…
This scene feels oddly familiar?