Time spent studying was always fulfilling and brief.
By the time Ariana put down her final book, *The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection*, night had fallen, and the train announcement informed them that they were approaching Hogwarts.
Following the PA announcement’s instructions, Ariana left her luggage on the train and stood up, looking energized and sharp, like a soldier brimming with ammunition and supreme confidence.
Harry tried to steal one last glance at his textbook, looking like a soldier who had just been hit by that ammunition.
They got off the train and boarded the small boats.
Ron, Harry, Ariana, and Hermione ended up in the same boat.
As the boats drew closer to the castle, Harry and Ron grew paler and paler.
The two boys, feeling as though they hadn’t memorized a single thing, looked like they were on the verge of fainting.
Especially when they overheard the passionate discussion between the two girls behind them.
“What is a bezoar used for, and where can you find it?”—Harry recognized Ariana’s voice.
“It acts as an antidote to most poisons, and it’s taken from the stomach of a goat!”—That was Hermione’s.
“Now it’s your turn to quiz me!” Natter, natter, chatter, chatter.
Ron, shaking, turned to Harry beside him and whispered, “If students have to compete against each other, I hope I don’t end up facing those two.” Harry nodded emphatically, whispering back, “I hope my opponent is that Malfoy guy.
He doesn’t look very tall, and he doesn’t seem very bright.” Ron immediately shot a glance toward the other boats, searching for an easy target to pick out in advance.
Trembling, the two followed the crowd into an empty chamber on the other side of Hogwarts’ entrance, where a sudden appearance of ghosts frightened them half to death.
Consequently, when they discovered that all they had to do was wear a hat to be sorted, they nearly jumped for joy.
“Did you see that, Harry?
We just have to put on the hat!” Ron said excitedly.
Shifting from utter despair to immense relief, the two clung to each other like terrified puppies—their newly formed friendship taking a massive leap forward after today’s emotional roller coaster.
“When I call your name, step forward and put on the hat,” Professor McGonagall, holding a scroll of parchment, announced.
“Hannah Abbott!” Ariana felt a pang of disappointment—the hollow feeling you get after working tirelessly on summer homework, only to hear the teacher say they won’t be collecting it.
She quickly brushed that bit of disappointment aside and began analyzing the Sorting Hat’s song to figure out which house would suit her best.
As the official sorting instrument, although the hat looked tattered and old, its attitude definitely reflected the mainstream wizarding consensus on the four houses.
Key takeaways: Gryffindor: Bravery.
Hufflepuff: Loyalty.
Ravenclaw: Wisdom.
Slytherin: Deviousness.
Well, did she even need to think twice?
Ariana instantly crossed out the last one.
She didn’t know much about houses, but she understood the weight of being the only house given a negative review by a ragged old hat.
Had it used the word “ambition” instead, she wouldn’t have been so quick to rule it out—morally questionable as it sounded, Ariana personally believed any house capable of producing a Dark Lord like Voldemort, who had terrorized the wizarding world for eleven years and whose lingering terror remained, had to be pretty formidable.
However, its public reputation was terrible, and she feared it would ruin her long-term career prospects.
As for the remaining three, Ariana mulled it over and felt Gryffindor’s song resonated better with her.
“Daring, nerve, and chivalry”—those were top-tier descriptions.
And especially that line about “standing out above the rest”—wasn’t that practically written for her?
She was going to Gryffindor!
Ariana made her choice in no time—it hadn’t even crossed her mind whether Gryffindor would want her.
What a joke: if Gryffindor thought a girl brave enough to extort someone on the street lacked courage, the Sorting Hat might as well hand its job over to her.
Ariana put her hands on her hips, feeling she was far smarter than that ragged hat.
The hat was getting old anyway; it belonged in a museum—retiring and leaving the job to someone who needed it more, like her!
Only working one day a year—what a dream job!
On her very first day of school, Ariana was already coveting the Sorting Hat’s position.
Up on the dais, Professor McGonagall called out loudly, “Harry Potter!” A sudden hum of whispers broke out in the quiet Great Hall, as though someone had released a thousand snakes.
Everyone debated and anticipated where the Savior would land, each wishing he would join their house.
Ariana also stared at Harry, whose face was hidden under the hat, but the fire of ambition burned in her eyes—one day, she would become just as famous, and everyone would anticipate her arrival just like they did Harry’s.
Unlike the previous students who were sorted almost instantly, the hat stayed silent on Harry’s head for a long time—or maybe it just felt long because Ariana was paying extra attention to him.
What were they saying?
Perhaps because her desire to know was so intense, Ariana felt the gentle breeze carry the tiny, almost imperceptible conversation between the boy and the hat right into her ears.
“Not Slytherin, not Slytherin…” “Mind made up, have you?
Well, if you’re sure…
GRYFFINDOR!” The hat on Harry’s head yelled out “Gryffindor.” *What?
You can just pick whichever house you want?* While the Gryffindor table erupted in wild celebration over welcoming the Savior, Ariana’s eyes widened in realization.
Excellent.
Now she wasn’t nervous at all.
So when the hat dropped over her eyes and blocked her view, Ariana followed Harry’s lead and softly chanted like a rapper: “Gryffindor, Gryffindor, Gryffindor.” “Oh, an impatient child.
I sort you based on your traits, so let me see…” the Sorting Hat muttered.
“Ah…
an intense desire to prove yourself, a hunger for success?
Fierce ambition, a craving for power…
Greedy little girl, you even want my job?” The Sorting Hat’s voice grew louder.
Ariana was displeased.
*What kind of talk is that?
A good job goes to the capable!
No, wait—she was willing to contribute to Hogwarts on her very first day.
What a noble quality!
How is that greedy?* *Has this hat’s brain gone soft from old age beneath those patches?
It doesn’t understand hat-to-human manners at all!* *Besides, why did those words sound way closer to Slytherin?* Thinking the tattered, deaf hat hadn’t heard her clearly, she puffed out her cheeks and spoke louder: “I want to go to Gryffindor!
Gryffindor, Gryffindor, Gryffindor!” “Want to go to Gryffindor?
Yes, you certainly have plenty of nerve,” Ariana felt the hat shift slightly on her head, tutting.
“But your Slytherin traits are extremely prominent.
Far too obvious…
hmmm…” The Sorting Hat left her hanging on purpose, pausing dramatically.
But Ariana didn’t know that.
Hearing that “but” gave her a bad feeling, hearing that she fit Slytherin doubled the bad feeling, and finally hearing that trailing “hmmm” made her think it was about to yell “Slytherin!” She panicked instantly.
Instinctively, she threw a punch straight upward.
Since the hat happened to have its mouth open, her fist went straight into its roof—if the patch-covered interior of a hat could be called a roof—and with considerable force!
The Sorting Hat shrieked in agony and flew off her head, bending into a distorted C-shape in midair.
Ariana glared furiously at the hat, which was currently tumbling onto the floor and retching repeatedly.
“I said I’m going to Gryffindor!” *What was the meaning of this useless hat?
Letting the Savior choose, but not her?
Discrimination!
She was going to report it to the Ministry of Magic!* Professor McGonagall looked in utter shock at the gagging hat on the floor—”*hurk, hurk, hurk*”—and then at Ariana, who looked so furious she had leapt off the stool and seemed ready to give the hat another kick.
“Miss Ritchie, I appreciate your fondness for Gryffindor, but which house you go to is determined by your traits via the Sorting Hat—you cannot punch the Sorting Hat!” Ariana only then remembered that everyone was watching.
Her rage balloon deflated instantly with a *pfft*, and she sheepishly sat back down on the high stool.
“It won’t happen again, Professor.” A thunderous cheer suddenly erupted from the Gryffindor table.
A pair of identical red-haired brothers were jumping up and down, shouting at the top of their lungs, “Gryffindor welcomes you, fair maiden!” Professor McGonagall picked up the Sorting Hat from the floor and shot a stern glare toward Gryffindor.
The noise died down quickly, and silence restored itself in the Great Hall.
She held the hat over Ariana’s head again, pausing for a moment.
“Miss Ritchie, I believe I must reiterate: regardless of which house you are sorted into—no punching the Sorting Hat.” Ariana obediently poked her head up.
“I won’t, Professor.” “NO!!” The Sorting Hat, having gagged for half a minute, shrieked as if struck by lightning.
“I think her personality traits are abundantly clear—” “GRYFFINDOR!” it screamed.