Chapter 185 Branching

Chapter 185 Branching

After they entered the auditorium, they each returned to their respective college seats.

The auditorium grew increasingly lively, with the four college tables filled with people. Owls flew around delivering homework that the children had forgotten at home, and occasionally an unlucky fellow would get hit on the head by a letter, causing a burst of laughter.

A barn owl flew too low and its wing swept across a Ravenclaw boy's pumpkin juice, causing the juice to spill over and drench the boy's head. Several people around him burst into laughter, slapping the table.

Enchanted candles floated on the ceiling, illuminating the auditorium as if it were daytime. The sky outside was completely dark, and the ceiling simulated a starless night sky.

At the Gryffindor table, Ron was talking to Harry.

Ron's expressions were very animated; he was gesturing wildly, his elbows almost touching Harry's face.

Harry laughed beside him, dodging as he laughed.

Hermione sat opposite them, holding a book by Lockhart, reading intently. Occasionally, she would look up and glare at Ron, telling him to be quiet.

Seymour and Dean were sitting next to me, discussing their plans for the summer vacation.

Seamus said he went to Ireland with his mother during the summer vacation and watched a Quidditch match; Dean said he stayed in London and played football all summer.

"A soccer ball?" Seamus asked curiously. "The kind of ball that Muggles kick with their feet?"

"Yes," Dean said. "It's really fun. I'll take you with me next time."

"Sure," Seamus said, "but I can't use my feet, I can only use my hands."

They looked at each other and laughed together.

At the Ravenclaw table, several students are discussing Quidditch.

Some people said that Ravenclaw had a chance to win the title this year, but this was immediately refuted by others. Gryffindor retained most of its main players this year, and Slytherin's new Seeker is also very strong. Ravenclaw's lineup is not stable enough.

The group argued endlessly, and no one could convince the others.

Zhang Qiu sat in the middle, listening quietly, occasionally interjecting a word or two. A girl next to her leaned over and whispered to her how her summer vacation was. She smiled and said it was fine.

At the Hufflepuff table, Hannah and Susan were reading a magazine, surrounded by a group of people.

The magazine was called "Wizard Weekly," and on the cover was a man in a flashy robe, Gilderoy Lockhart, winking at them.

Hannah turned to a page with an interview with Lockhart titled "Giddro Lockhart: My Magical Life".

Susan leaned closer to look and exclaimed in surprise.

He said he once caught a yeti in Tibet!

"Really?" a girl next to me asked.

"It's written in the magazine, it can't be false, right?" Susan said.

Justin was on the other side, talking to Ernie, seemingly discussing the new semester's schedule.

Justin said he was most looking forward to Defense Against the Dark Arts because he had heard that a new professor had arrived this year; Ernie said he was most looking forward to Potions because he liked Snape—even though Snape never smiled.

"You like Snape?" Justin asked in surprise.

"I like him," Ernie said earnestly. "He speaks well, is demanding, and I can learn a lot from him."

Justin thought for a moment and nodded.

That makes sense.

After all, although Snape always had a sullen, bat-like face, he was actually only targeting Gryffindor.

In other words, as long as other colleges aren't stupid enough to hang their portraits on the walls or put them in museums, he won't bother with them.

The atmosphere at the Slytherin table remained as reserved as ever.

The older students maintained an air of superiority, talking in hushed tones and occasionally glancing at the people at other tables.

Their voices were very low, and their expressions were perfectly controlled, making it impossible to guess what they were saying.

Several sixth-grade girls were discussing the prom for the new school term, which was rumored to be held at the school during Christmas this year. A seventh-grade boy was complaining that NEWTs were too difficult; he had done nothing but study during the summer vacation.

The younger students were more lively, but they only talked within their own Slytherin circle. They weren't as unrestrained as Gryffindors, nor as chattering as Hufflepuffs; their liveliness was reserved, visible only to their own kind.

When Professor McGonagall led the new students in, the noise in the auditorium subsided a little.

Henry looked up and watched the small figures following Professor McGonagall, walking in in a crooked line.

Professor McGonagall walked to the faculty table and placed a four-cornered stool and the worn-out hat on the floor, and the auditorium fell silent.

Everyone was watching the hat, and after a while, the hat moved.

A tear appeared in the brim of the hat, resembling a mouth, and it began to sing.

"More than a thousand years ago, when I had just finished weaving, four great wizards sewed me together."

They thought I had good judgment in assigning suitable places to the new students.

Gryffindor wants brave people, Hufflepuff wants loyal people, Ravenclaw wants intelligent people, and Slytherin wants noble people.

As long as you wear me on your head, I'll know where your heart lies.

Come on, come on, don't be afraid, wear me, and you'll know where home is—”

After the hat finished singing, it stopped moving.

Applause rang out in the auditorium; it seems that the old man is still diligently composing his fabricated songs every year.

But thinking about it, it makes sense. After all, the old man spends the whole year idly in the principal's office. If he doesn't find himself some work, it's incredibly boring.

Professor McGonagall unrolled the scroll and began taking attendance.

"Now, those whose names I call, please come up and sit here in the branch."

"Bill Bradley!"

A tall, thin boy walked out of the line, his expression calm, and sat down on a bench.

He put on the hat, which stayed on his head for a moment.

"Ravenclaw!" the hat shouted.

A round of applause erupted at the Ravenclaw table, and Bradley stood up and walked toward it.

He sat down not far from Zhang Qiu and nodded to the people around him.

Professor McGonagall continued calling roll.

"Colin Creevey!"

A short boy hopped out from the line.

He was so short, a whole head shorter than the boy in front of him. But he had a bright smile on his face, his eyes sparkling, and he was holding a Muggle camera in his hand. The camera looked pretty new, the lens gleaming in the candlelight.

He was so excited his face turned red, and he looked around as he walked, seemingly full of curiosity about everything. He looked at the candles on the ceiling, then at the floating ghosts, and then at the teachers' table, finally snapping out of his daze when Professor McGonagall cleared her throat.

He walked to the stool, sat down, and put on his hat.

The hat stayed on his head for a moment.

Colin waited anxiously, his little hands clutching his robe.

"Gryffindor!"

Colin cheered, took off his hat, and ran toward the Gryffindor table.

While running, he didn't forget to raise his camera and take a picture of the auditorium.

With a click, a puff of purple smoke emerged from the camera.

>