Hogwarts: I am Harry's eldest cousin

chapter 38: Are You Really a Wizard?

"Hermione, do you know how they exactly sort us into the different houses?"

Once Professor McGonagall finished her instructions and left, Harry couldn't wait to ask.

He felt that he didn't have the self-study talent for Potions like Dudley, nor did he possess Hermione's ability to learn several spells on his own. Unlike Ron and Neville, who grew up in the wizarding world, he hadn't learned a single spell aside from reading a few books.

Unfortunately, Hermione, the know-it-all, disappointed him. She shook her head, saying somewhat begrudgingly, "I don't know. I've checked many books, and each one briefly mentions the Sorting Ceremony at Hogwarts, but none of them provide detailed records. It's all just glossed over."

Harry then turned to Neville and Ron.

"My uncle wouldn't tell me," Neville replied with a nervous expression. "I feel like I might not pass. A few years ago, everyone thought I might be a Squib."

"It's probably some sort of test," Ron chimed in. "Fred told me that one has to wrestle a troll to get sorted and it hurts a lot."

"Don't worry, Harry," Dudley reassured, patting his cousin on the shoulder. " If we can't pass, we will go to Smelting Middle School."

Hearing this, Harry's eyes lit up, and his initial nervousness eased. As long as he could study with Dudley, it didn't matter where they went.

During their conversation, a group of pale, semi-transparent figures emerged from the walls, scaring the young wizards standing in front.

They were ghosts.

Dudley was intrigued, and really wanted to study the composition and principles of ghosts, but it was clearly not the right time for such inquiries because Professor McGonagall returned.

"Now, line up in a single line and follow me."

It must be said that the grandeur of the Hogwarts dining hall was a small but impressive shock to Dudley, especially the thousands of floating candles and the ceiling that revealed the sky.

The candles were enchanted and hardly depleted, or else maintaining so many candles would be quite costly.

Dudley couldn't help but sigh, "Magic is truly convenient."

In the center of the hall was a four-legged stool, upon which rested a pointed wizard hat. It was a black, greasy hat with patches sewn onto it—a Sorting Hat.

The brim split open like a wide mouth, and it began to sing.

"Perhaps you belong in Gryffindor, where bravery is hidden deep inside. Their courage, spirit, and generosity make Gryffindors stand out.

Perhaps you belong in Hufflepuff, where people are honest and loyal. Hufflepuffs are hardworking and patient, unafraid of the toils of labor.

If you're clever, you may end up in wise Ravenclaw, where wise and knowledgeable individuals always find kindred spirits.

Or maybe you'll end up in Slytherin, where you may find true friends. However, be wary, as some may use any means to achieve their goals."

The first three houses received a plethora of positive attributes, especially Gryffindor, with more commendations than the combined praise for the remaining three houses. When it came to Slytherin, the Sorting Hat's words had a tint of mockery, Maybe it was Slytherin's own bad taste.

This bias was evident.

Dudley wasn't interested in why the Sorting Hat seemed to have a prejudice against Slytherin; perhaps it was just the hat's sadistic sense of humor.