Dudley gazed at the magnificent Great Hall, his eyes scanning every detail with keen interest.
Four long tables stretched from the entrance to the platform at the front, dividing students into four distinct sections—clearly representing Hogwarts' four Houses.
Thousands of candles hovered above, bathing the hall in warm light.
The ceiling mirrored the night sky outside, complete with faintly twinkling stars.
On the platform, behind a long table, sat a row of professors. At the center was an elderly, white-haired man with half-moon spectacles—Professor Dumbledore, Hogwarts' headmaster, whom they'd met earlier.
"Form a single line and follow me," Professor McGonagall's voice cut through the students' awe.
She led the way, and the first-years trailed closely behind. Harry, walking just ahead of Dudley, moved stiffly, his legs heavy with nerves.
"The ceiling's enchanted to look like the sky outside. I read about it in Hogwarts: A History," Hermione whispered from behind Dudley.
"Hard to believe it's not open air," Dudley replied.
They reached the center of the Great Hall.
On the platform, Professor McGonagall placed a stool before the crowd and set a tattered, grubby hat atop it.
"Are we supposed to turn that hat into a rabbit or something?" Harry asked, his voice tight with anxiety.
"Unlikely. Few here could manage that," Dudley said.
Transfiguration spells of that caliber were beyond first-years, especially those without formal magical training.
"But that hat…" Dudley trailed off, eyeing it closely.
It felt… unusual.
He blinked, activating his Spirit Vision.
Spiritual power flowed into his eyes, and the hat's appearance shifted subtly. A faint halo shimmered around it, its form distorting. Deep within, Dudley glimpsed what seemed like a vague figure.
The light swirled, but when he tried to probe further, the hat's essence eluded him.
Spirit Vision wasn't all-seeing; some things remained beyond his grasp.
"Oh, new students again. It's that time of year," the hat declared, its folds twisting into a slit-like mouth.
"Living characteristics!" Dudley's gaze sharpened.
This hat possessed a sentience rare even in the strange world he'd known. There, only the most potent sealed artifacts—like Trensost's Bronze Book—exhibited such traits. Yet that artifact's awakening spelled catastrophe, while this hat seemed harmless.
To Dudley's astonishment, and that of the others, the hat burst into song.
Its lyrics wove a tale of Hogwarts' history and the origins of its four Houses, engaging and lively.
When it finished, the hall erupted in applause. The hat, like a performer, dipped slightly toward each House table before falling still.
"Now I get it—we just wear the hat. Fred and George had me thinking we'd have to fight a troll together. Kept me worried for ages," Ron whispered to Harry and Dudley.
"Just a hat? That's way easier," Harry said, exhaling in relief.
"It's fascinating," Dudley murmured.
A sentient, harmless artifact was a novelty to him.
"When I call your name, step forward, put on the Sorting Hat, and sit on the stool," McGonagall announced from the platform.
"Hannah Abbott!"
A rosy-cheeked girl with golden braids stumbled forward, placed the hat on her head, and sat.
"Hufflepuff!" the hat bellowed after a brief pause.
The table on the right—Hufflepuff's—burst into enthusiastic applause.
"How does it decide?" Dudley wondered, frowning slightly.
Could it read minds?
If so, he'd need to tread carefully. His thoughts held secrets that, if exposed, could endanger not just him but others. Some knowledge alone could cause Distortion.
McGonagall called names one by one, and the line of first-years dwindled.
For most, the hat decided swiftly, shouting its verdict within seconds. For Draco Malfoy, it barely grazed his head before declaring, "Slytherin!"
"Dudley Dursley!" McGonagall's voice rang out.
"Good luck," Harry said.
Dudley nodded and stepped forward.
All eyes turned to him, especially Malfoy's, whose venomous glare burned with hatred.
Dudley ignored him, glancing at the staff table.
Dumbledore and the professors watched him, and Dudley caught the headmaster winking playfully.
Reaching the stool, Dudley picked up the Sorting Hat and placed it on his head, keeping his hand poised to remove it if anything felt off.
"Oh, let's see. Where should I place you?" the hat's voice mused in his ear.
"Remarkable talent, brimming with ambition, no shortage of courage, and wisdom beyond your years."
Dudley's mind raced. It's assessing my traits.
"Yes, I can sense your strengths—and weaknesses," the hat confirmed.
Dudley tensed slightly.
It was reading his mind.
"No, no, this isn't mind-reading. I only glimpse surface thoughts. If I could truly read minds, I'd be more than a sorting tool, wouldn't I?" the hat chuckled.
Dudley relaxed a fraction.
"Wait—oh, what's this? Astonishing magical talent!" the hat exclaimed. "How did I miss that before?"