Minutes later, ghosts of all shapes and sizes began materializing in the small room, startling the first-years.
The young wizards' initial shock quickly turned to delight as they discovered these spirits were not frightening at all, but rather warm and welcoming.
One particularly friendly ghost decided to ease their nerves by demonstrating some spectral tricks, including holding his own head in his hands.
"Cool..." Someone exclaimed, watching the head bob up and down.
"Thanks, but wait until you see this!"
The ghost, now clearly enthused, tossed his head into the air, executed a graceful front flip with three and a half rotations, and landed perfectly to catch his head.
His movements flowed with elegant precision, each landing point exactly where it should be.
The display earned enthusiastic applause from everyone, including Kyle.
Such remarkable talent was rare indeed — truly brilliant.
"Thank you, thank you all." The ghost glided around the room with slight bows, adding proudly, "Did I mention? This routine got me into the Headless Hunt club. Not that I'm bragging — you all simply have excellent taste."
The atmosphere grew even warmer as the young wizards crowded around, begging for more.
The ghost obliged generously — and though he kept to simpler tricks, his playful performance had everyone laughing.
"Hmph." A cold, sinister laugh suddenly cut through the merriment, "What's there to be so proud about?"
Everyone turned instinctively toward the voice, only to discover another ghost.
"I'm very sorry, Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington." Said the headless ghost, recognizing his colleague in the ruff collar, "I was just trying to cheer up the children, nothing more."
"Better be."
"Of course, and I sincerely hope Sir will be able to join the Headless Hunt this year."
Nearly Headless Nick gave him an expressionless look before passing through the wall and disappearing.
The headless ghost discontinued his performance. With a shrug, he said, "Well everyone, the sorting should begin soon. Best prepare yourselves now. See you later."
He too passed through the wall to the Great Hall.
Though disappointed, the students could only watch as he departed.
The cheerful mood persisted, however. The ghost's performance had left everyone excited about the upcoming sorting.
...Except for Kanna. She alone hadn't paid any attention to the ghost's display.
Until Minerva's return, the little girl had huddled in the corner, her form almost gray, emanating an aura of despair.
McGonagall, unfortunately, failed to notice this.
"I leave for just a moment, and you turn into such a mess!" She pressed her lips together, fixing a stern gaze on the first-years, "The entire hall could hear your laughter. Was it truly that amusing, or do you think the sorting is something to jest about?"
Though Minerva spoke quietly, everyone fell silent as a grave, heads bowed, barely daring to breathe.
After a long minute, she continued, "Remember, sorting is a very serious matter. Please maintain silence. Now, form a single line and follow me."
The students quickly complied, forming an orderly line behind her within moments.
Kanna shuffled among them like a walking corpse, guided by Kyle.
✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭
They left the room, crossed the entrance hall, passed through a pair of double doors, and entered the magnificent Great Hall.
The Great Hall was even more majestic than the entrance hall. It was breathtakingly vast — even with four long tables full of students, the space felt open and airy.
Golden plates and goblets adorned the tables while thousands of floating candles illuminated the room. Above, the velvet-black ceiling was enchanted to mirror the night sky, dotted with stars and rolling clouds that left viewers spellbound.
Someone whispered to their companion, "It's enchanted to look like the sky outside, I read about it in 'Hogwarts: A History'."
Kyle glanced over but lost interest when he saw it was a boy speaking. Too bad — if this student had started school a year later, he probably could have been good friends with Hermione.
The group proceeded to the front of the Great Hall, where the staff table stood above them.
Dumbledore sat in the center wearing purple robes, his silver hair and beard neatly groomed. Behind his signature half-moon spectacles, his eyes twinkled kindly at each new student.
Beside him sat the four Heads of Houses:
Severus Snape, the Slytherin Head, with his gleaming hair;
Filius Flitwick, the diminutive Ravenclaw Head;
Pomona Sprout, the kindly-looking Hufflepuff Head;
And an empty chair for Minerva McGonagall, the Gryffindor Head, who was conducting the sorting.
Including them, about twenty professors attended the start-of-term feast. Kyle recognized fewer than ten, either by memory or educated guess. The rest were unfamiliar faces.
But this made sense — Hogwarts was enormous, and it would be strange to have only the handful of professors he remembered. Besides, many positions changed yearly, which explained why he knew so few.
He looked away.
Minerva had just placed a four-legged stool before the first-years and set a patched, pointed wizard's hat atop it — brownish in color, more or less.
The hat was so filthy that despite Professor McGonagall's gentle handling, it released a cloud of dust upon landing. Under the candlelight, its aged surface gleamed, making its original color impossible to determine.
Kyle knew with certainty that if such a hat had appeared in his home, either he or his father would face death.
Or perhaps his mother would simply kill them both.
✭✭✭
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