"Hermione Granger!""Gryffindor!"
"Harry Potter!""Gryffindor!"
The Sorting Ceremony continued in the Great Hall, each name called by Professor McGonagall drawing eager whispers from the students. The golden light of floating candles flickered against the enchanted ceiling, reflecting the excitement buzzing through the first-years.
"Lin Mei!"
At last, his name was read aloud. Lin Mei stepped forward briskly, his small frame straight and composed. As he perched on the stool, the Sorting Hat was carefully placed on his head by Professor McGonagall.
Lin Mei had been looking forward to this moment, but as seconds turned into minutes, the Great Hall grew restless. Murmurs rippled through the crowd as eyes darted toward him, curious and perplexed.
One minute. Two minutes.
Still, the Sorting Hat remained silent.
By the third minute, even the professors exchanged glances of intrigue. Five minutes passed before the Sorting Hat finally spoke—its voice hesitant.
"Well, young wizard... it seems I can't quite get a read on you. So, tell me—where do you think you belong?"
The hall erupted into gasps. This had never happened before. A student choosing their own house? Even the most composed of professors now looked on with raised eyebrows, their curiosity piqued.
Lin Mei blinked, momentarily stunned. Then, a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. He could feel the ancient magic within the Sorting Hat probing his mind—searching for something to grasp onto. But Lin Mei wasn't about to let it in so easily. His mind was his own, and he instinctively blocked the intrusion.
Realizing it couldn't sort him through its usual methods, the hat had left the choice to him.
Lin Mei glanced around the room, quickly evaluating his options. His eyes flickered to Malfoy, who was watching him with thinly veiled suspicion. The sight nearly made Lin Mei chuckle.
Then, he turned his attention to Dumbledore. The headmaster sat at the staff table, fingers rhythmically tapping against the crimson fabric of his robe. When their gazes met, Dumbledore's blue eyes twinkled with quiet amusement.
"Perhaps... Gryffindor would be quite fun for you," his expression seemed to suggest.
Lin Mei smirked. It wasn't about fun, really—learning magic was his true goal. But he had no particular attachment to any house, and Gryffindor seemed as good a place as any.
With a decisive nod, he said aloud, "I'll choose Gryffindor!"
The Sorting Hat gave a slight shudder, as if taken aback, before finally declaring, "Gryffindor!"
The Great Hall erupted into cheers. The Gryffindor table roared with applause, students waving napkins and hats in celebration.
Harry, Hermione, and Ron grinned, patting an empty seat beside them in invitation. Lin Mei strode toward them, his posture relaxed as he settled in.
Yet, despite the joyous atmosphere, whispers still circulated. Aside from Harry Potter, no student had ever been allowed to pick their house before.
Noticing the stir, the Weasley twins wasted no time approaching.
"Hey, Lin!" George grinned. "Care to share how you pulled that off?"
"Yeah, seriously!" Fred added. "That was brilliant—what kind of magic did you use?"
Lin Mei merely smirked, offering no explanation. The twins groaned in frustration, their curiosity left unsatisfied.
Before long, the Sorting Ceremony concluded, and the students took their seats. Excitement buzzed through the hall as steaming plates of food appeared on the tables. Lin Mei, however, eyed the feast with mild disinterest. Greasy, high-calorie meals weren't exactly his preference.
Across from him, Hermione was watching him with what could only be described as suspicion. He had no idea why.
Once the first-years had settled, Professor McGonagall whispered something to Dumbledore. Lin Mei, who had been idly poking at his food, suddenly felt the weight of Dumbledore's gaze upon him.
Feigning innocence, he flashed his brightest, most well-behaved smile.
Dumbledore chuckled, clearly amused by Lin Mei's swift change in demeanor. Then, rising gracefully to his feet, he gave a brief but warm welcome speech, officially marking the start of the new school year.
As dinner commenced, the headless ghost of Gryffindor, Nearly Headless Nick, drifted over to the first-years.
"Hmm? You don't seem to be enjoying the feast, young wizard," Nick observed, his ghostly form hovering near Lin Mei.
Lin Mei shrugged. "I'm used to cooking my own meals. The house-elves' food doesn't quite match my taste."
"I know who you are!" Ron exclaimed suddenly. "My brothers mentioned you—you're Nearly Headless Nick!"
Nick straightened, looking pleased—until Ron continued.
"Why 'nearly' headless? How can someone be nearly headless?"
At this, Nick sighed dramatically. "Ah, well, let me tell you the tale..."
And just like that, the night at Hogwarts carried on, full of laughter, magic, and new beginnings.
Lin Mei interrupted lightly, "If you want to keep your appetite, you probably shouldn't ask that question."
"Why?"
Before Harry and the others could process his warning, Nearly Headless Nick suddenly grabbed the edge of his own neck and—plop!—let his nearly severed head dangle grotesquely to one side.
Hermione gasped, Ron recoiled, and a few younger students turned pale.
But before anyone could comment, Nick's ghostly form stiffened. His cloudy eyes widened in alarm, and without another word, he vanished—plunging straight through the floor as if fleeing from something unseen.
Click! Click!
A chilling sound echoed through the Great Hall.
Lin Mei barely had time to react before the Bloody Baron, Slytherin's infamous ghost, materialized beside him.
The air around them turned heavy, thick with an ancient, unshakable resentment. The Baron's spectral form was gaunt and draped in tattered robes, his body smeared with dark, spectral blood that never faded. His lifeless eyes bore into Lin Mei with an intensity that made the surrounding students shudder.
Lin Mei's brow furrowed slightly. The ghost's energy was different—volatile, brimming with anger barely contained beneath the surface. If this apparition had existed outside of Hogwarts, it would undoubtedly be a malevolent spirit, feared and dangerous.
What kind of magic keeps ghosts like this bound to the school? Lin Mei wondered.
Through the Baron's translucent form, he caught sight of Malfoy at the Slytherin table—watching with poorly concealed amusement.
Lin Mei didn't need to guess. So, this is your doing, Malfoy?
Clearly, the boy had provoked the Baron into seeking him out. But what exactly had Malfoy said to stir up this infamously violent ghost?
The Baron's bloodshot eyes glowed with irritation and fury, locked onto Lin Mei like a predator sizing up its prey. The tension crackled between them, unspoken but palpable.
Lin Mei's fingers twitched slightly. If the Baron got aggressive, he wasn't opposed to using light magic to push him back—even if it meant taking some damage himself.
Maybe... just maybe, this was why the Sorting Hat had let him choose Gryffindor.
After all, only someone reckless enough to stare down the Bloody Baron without flinching could belong in a house of courage, vitality, and chivalry.
... Hello readers, get your hands on more chapters on my patreon, Seasay. The fanfic is at chapter 135. Check it out.