hotmtlnovel Chapter 10 Scarface Inspects the 4th Branch
Chapter 10 Scarface Inspects the 4th Branch
The Sorting Hat was originally worn by Godric Gryffindor, one of the founders of Hogwarts.
Later, in order to attract students, Godric persuaded the other three founders to infuse the hat with some magic, giving it life and turning it into a treasure. It was born with a magical ability called Legilimency.
If one possesses the power to seize one's thoughts and emotions, one can recall everything, even things from one's womb.
But this felt hat only gained life for the purpose of dividing the academy; its ability to capture minds and thoughts only plunders some superficial ideas.
Now that Harry wears it, it steals some of the thoughts from his mind.
The Sorting Hat, having deduced that Harry had killed someone, remained skeptical and uncertain. Undeterred, he used Legilimency to investigate further, but trembled with fear.
"Wait, you've killed more than one?!"
Harry, being an upright man, thought to himself, "If I were to name a thousand, I'd say eight hundred, if not a thousand, who died by my hand!"
Upon hearing Harry's explanation, the Sorting Hat calmed down and said, "Oh, I see, so you're... a netizen!"
Where would an eleven-year-old wizard find a place to kill hundreds of people? It seems he's deeply engrossed and can no longer distinguish between virtual and reality.
The hat continued, "Let me guess, are you playing Super Mario Bros. or Street Fighter? That little wizard named Seamus just told me. Ah, Muggles, they really invent a lot of amazing things..."
The Sorting Hat continued its incessant chatter, which Harry found irritating. He thought to himself, "You bird-hat, what a nuisance! Instead of going for the Sorting, you're here gossiping!"
"Hey! Little wizard! If you only had one day a year without talking to a stupid bird, you'd probably talk more than I do!"
The Sorting Hat was scolded by Harry and grumbled a few more times before getting to the point, "So, are you going to Gryffindor? It's full of unruly young people like you."
"I've heard that Gryffindor is full of heroes, where loyalty is paramount. Is that truly the case?"
"Ah~ well, at least that's how it is when I'm talking to them, but people always change. If you're worried, how about considering Slytherin? Your ambitions are bigger than any little snake I've ever seen."
"I've heard that Slytherin is a power-hungry, cunning, and treacherous man. Is that really true?"
"Hmm... the snakes' families are indeed mostly noble, and they tend to be arrogant and have a sharp tongue. What about the Hufflepuffs? They are all honest and loyal people; you'll definitely get along with them."
"Is this Hufflepuff truly a place where everyone is from a respectable family, with not a single scoundrel among them?"
"Oh dear, Harry, you're putting me in a difficult position. If you don't like the badgers either, then Ravenclaw is the only option left. But they're all obsessed with studying, unlike you."
After several exchanges between the man and the hat, Scarface's anger flared.
He jumped to his feet, ripped off his hat, and roared, "You can't go here, you can't go there! You should know I appointed you as a branch of the academy, yet you keep asking me questions! You know nothing about the four branches, what use are you!"
Harry's drunken reverberation filled the room, astonishing the students, stunning the professors, and even making wandering ghosts stop and stare.
The Sorting Hat, after being thrown, grumbled twice, as if to say, "Hey! I'm just respecting your choice!"
Harry ignored them, took a few steps forward, clasped his hands in a salute, and declared, "I am Harry Potter, and I will never change my name!"
"Now I'm looking for a good branch school, a good place to go. I wonder where there are heroes and righteous people, so I can get to know them!"
The way is:
During the Sorting Ceremony, he threw his hat down in a wild display, choosing his own Sorting House and rebelling against the Heavenly Gang.
The legendary tales of Hogwarts have been further enriched by the addition of a scarred gentleman.
After Harry finished speaking, the audience fell silent; not a single person uttered a sound.
The Slytherins were all arrogant, unwilling to put down their tacks; the Hufflepuffs were loyal to the end, never daring to speak without precedent; the Ravenks were all bookish, how could they learn such crude behavior; only the Gryffindors, jumping up in two identical shouts:
"Come here, Harry! We're all the heroes you spoke of!"
"That's right! The Lion King's throne awaits its master's arrival!"
If you were to ask who these two identical children are, they would be the Weasley twins, Ron's two older brothers, Fred and George.
With those two starting, the rest of the Gryffindors joined in the clapping.
"Come here, Harry!"
"Come on, Potter!"
"If you don't come to Gryffindor, you've wasted your time at Hogwarts!"
These Gryffindors shouted at the top of their lungs, and Ron and Hermione also yelled at the top of their lungs, even a ghost joined in the shouting:
"Come on, little Harry, let Sir Nicholas of Minsey have a drink with you!"
Seeing this scene, Harry felt as if he had returned to Erlong Mountain and was drinking and having fun with his senior brother Zhishen.
Coming to his senses, Harry jumped off the stage and walked towards Gryffindor. He sat down, and the shouts shook the floating lanterns in the air, causing the clouds above to flee.
Seeing that he had been forgotten, the Sorting Hat hurriedly called out, "Alright, then I declare, Gryffindor—is anyone listening to me?"
Harry took his seat, and hands began to be extended for him to shake. The spirit called Sir Nicholas also came, and when Harry touched it, he felt a chill run through him.
A short while later, Ron squeezed in carrying two glasses of pomegranate juice, exclaiming excitedly, "Harry! You're really something!"
"You threw the Sorting Hat during the Sorting Ceremony; you're definitely the first person at Hogwarts to do that!"
Harry took the pomegranate juice and laughed, "How can I make it a habit if I don't set a precedent?"
As soon as he finished speaking, there was another chorus of cheers.
One by one, the Gryffindor heroes surrounded Harry, while the younger wizards who had been sorted into their houses were ignored.
Harry was drinking with the others when he glanced at the professors' table and made eye contact with Quirrell, who was wearing a large turban. He forced a smile, then quickly turned his head to talk to a slick-haired professor next to him.
Harry looked at the greasy-haired professor again, but the man looked at him with a nasty expression and turned his head away.
Harry wondered to himself: Hogwarts is such a mixed bag, and this scoundrel is coming after me too?
Seeing him glancing at the professors' table, Fred turned his head to look in that direction and said, "Oh, that's Snape, the head of Slytherin."
George chimed in, "The one who hates Gryffindor the most. Harry, as the young lion king of Gryffindor, he must really want to hang you in the Forbidden Forest."
"That's not necessarily true," Harry pondered. "This fellow must have a grudge against me, but I don't see any murderous intent in his eyes."
A cult exists, with an Indian turban concealing evil, and a slick-haired abbot harboring old grudges. One stutters, masking murderous intent; the other, with cold eyes, shoots poisoned arrows. The grand hall is shrouded in darkness, concealing two treacherous figures, one in the open, the other in the shadows. If it is said that the mantis stalks the cicada, unaware of the oriole behind; the scarred man wields a longbow skillfully, each arrow aimed at the throat. To find out what happens next, please read the next chapter.