Harry Potter : This Progress Too Much

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Sorting David

"David Adrian!"

The line of first-years had dwindled to one—only David remained.

With a calm expression, he stepped forward, placed the Sorting Hat on his head, and sat on the stool, prepared for his Sorting.

Though he had knowledge of the Unforgivable Curses and had even used the Killing Curse, he had managed to keep his secrets well-hidden. By all rights, such actions should have sent him straight to Azkaban, but the Sorting Hat didn't read memories—it only assessed one's character, ambitions, and values, deciding which house best suited them.

David had trained extensively for this moment, practicing Occlumency to shield his thoughts. He knew the Sorting Hat could pick up on certain traits but lacked the ability to fully dive into a wizard's true mind.

"Interesting," the Sorting Hat's voice echoed in his head. "You have magical power far beyond your peers, a strong talent for Dark Magic, ambition… and you certainly have greed. You'd be a fine addition to Slytherin. Sachara would be pleased to have you."

"I'm not a pure-blood. I'm not even a half-blood. Would I still be allowed in Slytherin?" David asked, feigning curiosity.

The Sorting Hat chuckled. "Of course! The original Slytherin values weren't just about blood purity. That's a modern misunderstanding. Slytherin once stood for ambition, cunning, self-preservation, and above all—victory. It wasn't just a house for pure-blood fanatics. Unfortunately, over time, it became a haven for those who lacked true cunning and relied solely on bloodline."

David remained silent, letting the Hat continue its analysis.

"You're fascinating," the Hat mused. "You don't just seek power—you're strategic. You think several steps ahead. But your ambitions are... peculiar. Not just personal power, but something more. Something… experimental. Dangerous. Yes, I see it now. You have the makings of a great Slytherin, but…"

The Hat paused.

"There's also something else… a hunger for knowledge. Not just any knowledge, but the deepest, most forbidden kinds. Ravenclaw values intelligence, but you—you want more than just wisdom. You want the truth behind magic itself."

David smirked internally. The Sorting Hat was perceptive.

"You have the courage to face the unknown, which would make you a fit for Gryffindor. But chivalry? That's not quite your style, is it?"

David remained quiet.

The Hat sighed. "Hufflepuff? No, absolutely not. Hard work, integrity, loyalty? I don't see it. Honestly, placing you there would be a disaster for them."

David nearly chuckled.

Then, after another moment of thought, the Sorting Hat declared:

"RAVENCLAW!"

A Warm Welcome

Applause erupted from the Ravenclaw table as David removed the Hat and made his way over. He could hear whispers and murmurs—his Sorting had taken quite a while, a sign that he wasn't just an average student.

"That was a Hatstall!" someone whispered excitedly.

David shook hands with his new housemates, his sharp eyes scanning the table. As the Hat had suggested, Ravenclaw had more than its fair share of beautiful girls. He made a mental note to befriend a few of them.

Once David was seated, Professor McGonagall removed the Sorting Hat and stool, signaling the end of the ceremony.

Now, it was Dumbledore's turn to speak.

Dumbledore's Speech

Dumbledore rose from his seat, spreading his arms wide. His twinkling blue eyes surveyed the Great Hall, and he smiled warmly at the students.

"Welcome!" he announced. "Welcome to another year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our wonderful feast, I have just a few words to say."

He paused, then suddenly declared:

"Idiot! Crybaby! Scum! Twist!"

A brief silence followed. Then, the hall erupted into laughter and cheers.

David raised an eyebrow.

"What…?" he murmured to a senior student beside him.

"That's Dumbledore for you," the girl—Penelope Clearwater—explained with a smile. "Those four words sum up how each house views the others."

David turned to face her fully. "Explain."

Penelope, a fifth-year prefect, tucked a strand of her brown hair behind her ear before elaborating:

"'Idiot!' That's what we Ravenclaws think of other houses. We believe we're the smartest, so everyone else must be an idiot."

"'Crybaby!' That's what Gryffindors think of everyone else. They believe they're the bravest, so they see other houses as cowardly."

"'Scum!' That's what Slytherins think. They consider themselves elite, so they see everyone else as beneath them—filthy, impure, unworthy."

"And 'Twist!' That's what Hufflepuffs think of other houses. They believe in unity and loyalty, so they see everyone else as dishonest, selfish, and untrustworthy."**

David smirked. "Interesting philosophy."

Penelope laughed. "Dumbledore loves these little quirks. Anyway, welcome to Ravenclaw, David."

He nodded. "Thanks."

The Great Feast

With that, the feast finally began.

Golden plates and goblets shimmered under the candlelight, and delicious food appeared magically before them. Roast beef, roast chicken, pork chops, lamb, sausages, steak, baked potatoes, Yorkshire pudding—a true feast fit for kings.

David, though not particularly overwhelmed, admitted the food was excellent. He ate in measured portions, observing the students around him.

The first-years were excited, the older students were chatting and laughing, and the professors seemed content.

David, however, was focused on something else.

This was the beginning of his time at Hogwarts.

He had no intention of simply studying and graduating like an ordinary student.

No—he had plans.

Goals that extended far beyond just learning magic.

He would use this place, its knowledge, its people, and its resources, to achieve something far greater than what any student, professor, or even Dumbledore himself could imagine.

David smiled to himself as he took another bite of his meal.

Hogwarts was just the beginning.

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