Hogwarts: The Bloodline Wizard

Chapter 1: The Sorting Ceremony

October 31, 2020

"Susan Bones—Hufflepuff!"

"Justin Finch-Fletchley—Hufflepuff!"

In the grand, exquisitely decorated hall, a wrinkled, battered hat with a wide tear along its brim was singing and swaying restlessly. Occasionally, a few bold young wizards would pinch its brim, causing it to let out strange, cackling laughs.

As the Sorting Hat called out the names of the students and assigned them to their respective houses, the seated students below clapped with varying degrees of enthusiasm—some warmly, others half-heartedly. At least during this welcoming ceremony, even the rival houses of Gryffindor and Slytherin maintained a semblance of harmony.

Among the group of nervous and expectant first-years waiting to be sorted, one thin boy stood out, looking utterly bewildered. His eyes darted around the grand hall, taking in the ornate, retro decorations, the candles floating eerily in mid-air, and the bright, star-like flames illuminating the room. Transparent ghosts drifted through the air, adding to the surreal atmosphere. It took him a while to mutter to himself:

"Who am I? Where am I? What am I doing here?"

"Wait, wasn't I on my deathbed in a hospital just now?" Just as the boy was grappling with the strange yet familiar surroundings, a sharp, commanding voice echoed through the hall.

"Ivan Hales!"

Professor Minerva McGonagall stood at the four-legged table where the Sorting Hat rested, holding a scroll of parchment. After a long pause with no response, she frowned and called out again, louder this time.

"Ivan Hales!"

When no one stepped forward, even Albus Dumbledore turned his gaze toward the group of first-years. The older students began whispering among themselves.

"Who? Who's Ivan? How bold of him!"

"Did he get lost and miss the Sorting Ceremony?"

"This is going to be interesting…"

Under the watchful eyes of the professors and older students, the remaining first-years instinctively took a step back, leaving only a black-haired, golden-eyed boy standing alone, looking utterly confused.

"Mr. Ivan Hales, please come up to the stage!" Professor McGonagall repeated once more.

"Me?" Ivan pointed at himself, feeling a strange mix of unfamiliarity and déjà vu.

"Yes, please come up quickly. There are other children waiting to be sorted." Perhaps because Ivan was a first-year, Professor McGonagall didn't sound the least bit annoyed, even though this was her fourth attempt. She likely assumed the boy was just nervous.

Before Ivan could react, he felt a gentle push from behind. The other first-years, as if acting in unison, began nudging him forward until he found himself on the stage.

"There we go, child. Come here." Professor McGonagall stepped forward, placing a hand on Ivan's shoulder and guiding him to the stool. She then lifted the Sorting Hat and placed it on his head.

The Sorting Hat wriggled uncomfortably on Ivan's head before speaking in a playful tone.

"Hey, kid, don't be shy. You're not the first to feel nervous in this situation. Trust me, just close your eyes, and it'll be over before you know it. It doesn't hurt at all!"

Ivan rolled his eyes. After spending some time among the first-years, he had started to piece together what was happening, though it still felt unbelievable.

But… is this really Hogwarts? The magical school where they teach magic? But that's just…

Before Ivan could finish his thought, the Sorting Hat's voice chimed in.

"Yes, of course, this is Hogwarts! You're not dreaming, I can assure you of that!"

"I'm guessing you're from a Muggle family, right? Every few years, we get a few new students who don't believe magic is real. They think it's all tricks, like pulling a rabbit out of a hat. I keep telling them there's nothing inside me, but they never believe me…"

The Sorting Hat rambled on, its wide tear stretching almost to the brim as it cracked what it thought were jokes.

The hat's ability to read memories made Ivan quickly shut down his thoughts, trying to focus his mind. However, perhaps due to the hat's influence, fragmented memories began flashing through Ivan's mind like a slideshow. He couldn't quite piece them together, but they seemed to involve a witch teaching him magic.

In the memory, the witch appeared to be in her thirties, with beautiful golden hair. She was saying something, but Ivan couldn't make out the words. Instead, a wave of fear washed over him.

The Sorting Hat, for its part, was amused. It was the first time it had encountered such a jumble of thoughts from a young wizard. It was also surprised to find that Ivan wasn't from a Muggle family. After all, what wizard-raised child wouldn't know about Hogwarts?

Beads of sweat formed on Ivan's forehead. Although the thoughts and memories the hat was reading belonged to the original owner of this body, he wasn't sure if the hat might stumble upon something more important. He tried his best to focus on trivial matters.

"Ahem." Seeing that the Sorting Hat seemed to be going on forever, Professor McGonagall cleared her throat, reminding the hat to get on with its job.

The Sorting Hat finally stopped talking, and Ivan breathed a sigh of relief. Still, he couldn't help but wonder which house he would be sorted into.

"Hmm… let's see. Optimistic, clever, and prone to overthinking…" The Sorting Hat drawled, then suddenly lowered its voice. "And you know a bit of Dark Magic, too."

"I know Dark Magic?" Ivan's mind flashed back to the earlier memory.

"Oh, yes. An ancient and rare Dark Magic," the hat whispered, as if sharing a secret. "Of course, I find it quite fascinating. It's the kind of magic that shows people things they'd rather not see. Some have used it for pranks—maybe you could try that too."

"Though I'm sure Dumbledore wouldn't approve," the hat added, seemingly talking to itself.

"So, where should I go? Slytherin?" Ivan was curious about the Dark Magic, but his immediate concern was the Sorting. Once sorted, he could finally take off this damned memory-reading hat.

Among the four houses of Hogwarts, Gryffindor required bravery (or recklessness?), Ravenclaw valued wisdom and a thirst for knowledge, Slytherin favored cunning and exceptional magical talent, and Hufflepuff was known for its kindness and tolerance , especially excelling in food-related charms—a perfect fit for food lovers.

The Sorting Hat's mention of Dark Magic seemed to align with Slytherin's values, though Ivan's optimism and cleverness might also land him in Ravenclaw. He couldn't help but feel a bit smug.

"No, no, neither," the Sorting Hat said, its tone suddenly turning humorous. "Though this might disappoint you, Slytherin usually only accepts students with exceptional talent, so…"

"Gryffindor!" The Sorting Hat's voice boomed through the hall, a stark contrast to its earlier whispers.

"Gryffindor?" Ivan pulled the hat off his head, surprised. He didn't even have time to process the hat's jab at his talent.

"Yes, yes, that's where you belong!" the hat declared confidently. "I've never been wrong before. You have the qualities!"

End of Chapter