HP: Hogwart's Model Wizard

A few minutes later, more and more ghosts began to appear in the small room—tall ones, short ones, fat ones, thin ones—ghosts of all shapes and sizes, much to the surprise of the first-year students.

At first, the little witches and wizards were understandably frightened, but soon they realized that the ghosts weren't terrifying at all. In fact, they were very friendly and greeted each of the students warmly. 

To ease their nerves, one ghost even performed a little ghostly trick, clasping its hands around its head in a way that only a ghost could manage. 

"Cool…" someone muttered, watching the head float up and down in the air. 

"Thanks for the compliment, but I've got something even cooler!" The ghost seemed to get more enthusiastic. Without missing a beat, it tossed its head into the air, then performed a graceful front flip followed by three and a half spins in the air, finally catching its head in its hands with perfect precision.

The whole room gasped, and the applause was instant. Kyle, too, couldn't help but join in. Such a performance wasn't something you saw every day.

"Thank you, thank you," the ghost said, circling the room and giving a slight bow. It seemed quite pleased with itself. "Oh, I suppose I forgot to mention, this routine is how I joined the Headless Hunt. Not that I'm bragging or anything—just saying you all have good taste."

After that, the atmosphere truly lightened. The students gathered around, urging the ghost to perform again. 

The ghost didn't hesitate. Although it didn't repeat the complicated stunt, it kept the students entertained with a string of smaller tricks, making everyone laugh out loud.

"Heh." But just then, a chilling, sinister laugh cut through the room.

"Is there something so impressive about all that?" came a cold voice.

Everyone instinctively turned toward the source and realized it was yet another ghost.

"I'm sorry, Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington," the headless ghost recognized the new arrival, a ghost in a frilled collar, and quickly said, "I was just trying to entertain the children, nothing more."

"It'd better be," said the new ghost in a voice that seemed to freeze the air. 

"Of course," the first ghost replied quickly. "In fact, I sincerely hope Sir Nicholas will join the Headless Hunt this year."

The ghost known as Nearly Headless Nick gave a deadpan look, then floated through the wall without saying another word.

With that, the headless ghost stopped his performance. He shrugged and said, "Alright, everyone, you should be getting ready for the Sorting. Better prepare yourselves now, and I'll see you later."

And with that, he, too, passed through the wall and disappeared into the Great Hall.

While the students felt a tinge of disappointment at the sudden end to the performance, they couldn't be too upset. After all, they had just seen something very rare. The mood in the room remained upbeat, and anticipation for the Sorting Ceremony grew even stronger.

… Well, almost everyone was excited. 

The only one who hadn't paid any attention to the ghostly performance was CAnna. She hadn't even looked up during the whole thing. By the time Professor McGonagall returned, the poor girl was huddled in a corner, looking as though she were about to fade into the background, her face ashen and her whole body radiating a sense of despair.

Sadly, McGonagall didn't seem to notice this.

"I leave you for just a moment, and this is what happens!" she scolded, her lips pressed tightly together as she glared at the first-year students. "I can hear your laughter all the way down the hall. Is it really that funny? Or do you think the Sorting is some sort of joke?"

Though her voice wasn't loud, it silenced everyone immediately. The students dropped their gazes, not daring to breathe.

For a full minute, Professor McGonagall let the silence hang, before finally speaking again: "Remember, the Sorting is a serious matter. Please remain quiet." 

"Now, line up single file and follow me."

The moment she finished speaking, the students began to move, quickly forming a neat line in less than a minute. They fell into step behind Professor McGonagall, CAnna included. Kyle kept a hand on her shoulder, guiding her along as she shuffled, dazed, like a zombie.

...

They left the room, passed through the antechamber, and finally reached a pair of large double doors that opened into the magnificent Great Hall. 

The Great Hall was even more impressive than the rest of the castle. It was vast, so vast that even with four long tables full of students, it didn't feel crowded at all. 

Golden plates and goblets adorned the tables, and thousands of floating candles illuminated the room, casting a warm glow. Looking up, the ceiling was a rich, velvety black, dotted with tiny lights that resembled stars. The clouds shifted, swirling as though the sky itself had been transported indoors.

One student, voice hushed, whispered to their neighbor, "This has been enchanted to look like the sky outside. I read about it in [Hogwarts: A History]."

Kyle glanced toward the speaker—a boy—but quickly lost interest. What a shame, if he had only arrived a year later, he might have become good friends with Hermione.

The line of students continued to the front of the hall, where they stopped in front of the staff table. 

In the center, wearing purple robes, was Professor Dumbledore, his silver beard neatly trimmed, and his signature half-moon glasses perched on his nose. He was looking at each new student with a warm, welcoming expression.

To his right and left sat the four House Heads: Severus Snape, the greasy-haired Head of Slytherin; Filius Flitwick, the short and sprightly Head of Ravenclaw; Pomona Sprout, the kindly-looking Head of Hufflepuff; and, of course, Professor McGonagall, who was temporarily absent from her usual seat as she was overseeing the Sorting.

Together with the professors, there were about twenty teachers present at the feast, though Kyle could only recognize a few of them. After all, Hogwarts was huge, and there were far too many professors for him to remember them all. Moreover, half of the ones he knew only taught once a year, which made it even harder to recognize everyone.

...

Kyle returned his attention to the front. At that moment, Professor McGonagall placed a small four-legged stool in front of the students and set a patched-up, brown, pointy hat on top.

Well, brown was one way to describe it. The hat was so dirty that even with McGonagall's gentle placement, a cloud of dust rose into the air. The hat had a dull gleam under the candlelight, clearly worn and weathered. It was impossible to tell its original color—if it weren't for the fact that it was the Sorting Hat, Kyle would have been sure he and Chris would be dead if they found it at home. Or at the very least, Diana would have killed them both. 

(End of Chapter)