The cat meowed angrily at Harry, its sharp eyes fixed on him. He hadn't heard her approach him. Mrs. Norris stood still and barred Harry's way back to his common room. He had only taken a few more steps toward where he now stood in order to listen in on the conversation between Professor Dumbledore and the man called Lucius. It was out of the way to his common room, but he just couldn't resist to hear what they were speaking about. Now, however, Mrs. Norris was blocking his way and he needed to decide what to do, and fast.
If Mrs. Norris was here, Filch would be nearby. If Filch caught him after curfew, he would most likely get detention. Mrs. Norris was blocking his path and would probably prevent him going down the corridor back the way he came, Harry thought. Reasoning that Filch might come from the same direction as his cat, Harry decided to turn right and run down that corridor. It would eventually lead to the staircase that led to the Entrance Hall and from there he would be able to find his common room. It would just be a bit longer than the route he'd imagined taking.
As Harry ran, his thoughts took a stroll. Should I run or walk? No, run. Definitely run. Even though teachers might hear me, I'll have a greater risk of getting caught by being in the halls for longer than necessary. What was that conversation? Who is Lucius? Why did Dumbledore say there might be a re-sorting coming Sunday? What did Dumbledore think needed investigating? Was there something wrong with the Sorting Hat? And then it dawned on Harry…
He had been running down multiple corridors and staircases, using what little knowledge he had learned of the castle in his first couple of days in Hogwarts to navigate through the maze-like structure, reaching the third floor in the meantime. He rounded a corner and bumped fast and hard into something solid. Rubbing his forehead and looking up, Harry was looking straight into the black eyes of Professor Snape. Snape's eyes seemed to glint with something, or it was the reflection of the flickering torch light, Harry wasn't sure. Snape's lips curled into a thin, sneering smile.
"Wandering about the castle at this late hour, Mr. Potter?" Professor Snape asked in a mocking tone. Harry didn't answer. He stared at Snape with a bitter gaze, knowing what would come next.
"Or is there some other, more nefarious purpose you are up to this evening?" Again, Harry didn't answer. Snape seemed to be enjoying this moment far too much and he didn't want to give him the satisfaction of giving him a response only for it to be mocked or interrupted.
Professor Snape's brows furrowed deeply. "Hmm. This is what's going to happen next, Mr. Potter. You are going to tell me why you are up at this late hour - and do not insult my intelligence with petty excuses such as that you were walking to your common room from the library and simply forgot the time while you were busy studying - and I might be a little lenient on the detention you're getting."
Snape wasn't sneering down at him anymore. He now simply glared at Harry. Harry sighed. He'd been caught after curfew, and there was no escaping detention. It wasn't fair. He'd only been walking down from the library and he had actually lost track of time. Was that so hard to imagine? But of course he couldn't say that now Snape had mentioned exactly that excuse as something that would earn him only more detention, most likely. Then it struck Harry. If what he'd been thinking earlier was true… Perhaps this was actually a very fortunate moment.
"Excuse me, sir. But what are you doing here?"
Snape didn't answer immediately. His brows furrowed deeper, almost touching the point where his nose began. It seemed confusion on the Potions Master manifested itself as even more anger than usual.
"I beg your pardon?" Professor Snape said sharply. "Teachers can walk anywhere they like, Potter. How dare you be so insolent as to question my whereabouts, especially when I have the authority to give you detentions that will last for the remainder of the term? Ten points from Hufflepuff."
"I was just wondering, sir. I mean… If students have curfew, shouldn't that also apply to the teachers? To set a good example for the students?"
"A further ten points from Hufflepuff, Potter, for continuing to be insolent and not knowing your place. Now, if you say anymore, I will make sure Hufflepuff House isn't going to win the House Cup this year," Snape said, on the verge of being livid.
"But, sir, I was just walking from the library!"
"Fifty points from Hufflepuff!" Snape barked. "You will learn to obey your teachers, Potter," he said, as he took a step toward Harry menacingly.
"What's this?" a voice asked. It sounded a bit groggy, as if just woken up by the shouting in the hallway. Harry turned around to see an almost ghostly figure make its way toward Snape and him. It looked as if a floating face and upper body were suffused in candle light. For a moment, Harry was startled but as the figure came nearer, the face of Argus Filch, the caretaker, became visible to him. He held out a lantern before him in the dark hallways of the night, so that the light blurred out his facial features when viewed from a distance, and only the hand, head, and torso of the man remained to give the impression of a figure walking down the hallways.
Snape straightened himself and took a step back. He cleared his throat and spoke in a calmer manner, though still quite angry.
"Ah, Mr. Filch, you came at the right time. Mr. Potter here is out of bed after curfew. You can take him back to his common room now. I'm done with him," Snape said as he glared at Harry. "Two days detention, Mr. Potter," Snape said, mockingly emphasising the 'mister'. "Tomorrow, after classes end, you're to report to your Head of House for your detention, which will last till the end of the day on Friday and from one to seven in the afternoon on Saturday. I'm sure Pomona Sprout will give you a proper punishment, but I will make sure to pass on my suggestions, just in case."
Snape sneered at Harry and without looking towards Filch he motioned at the caretaker. Harry felt Filch stepping closer behind him and then, without warning, Filch yanked him back into the hallway towards the grand staircase by gripping his robe at the neck and forcefully turning him the other way around. As he was whisked away, Harry could only stare in inner frustration and anger at Snape. Although it had been his plan, he wasn't happy about the two days worth of detention.
On the way back to the Hufflepuff common room, Filch was constantly muttering about the burden of his job and complaining about students, "Out after curfew… How dare you… At the very least professor Snape gave you two detentions… Hmphf… In my time, there were no detentions. If students didn't behave, they would hang upside down from shackles fastened to the ceiling of the dungeon. That'd teach them. It's a shame that punishment is forbidden now. I'd know what to do with you if you'd been here forty years ago." As they walked, Mrs. Norris walked with them, meowing at the intermittent pauses that the caretaker let be between his phrases, as if the cat was loudly meowing its agreement.
When Harry was back in his common room and lay in his bed in his dorm, he could only smile. Not only was he happy that he was saved from any further discomfort by being in Filch's vicinity, but most of all, if there was to be a re-sorting because there was something wrong with the Sorting Hat, he had just made sure that Hufflepuff House wasn't going to be a competitor for the House Cup against his new House anymore, whatever House that would be…
The next day, as Harry entered the Great Hall, he saw that Pansy was already seated at the Hufflepuff table. He quickened his step. He had to tell her about last night.
"Hey, good morning," he said as he sat down next to her at the table and began assembling his breakfast on the plate in front of him. "I need to tell you something. Last night…"
"Where were you yesterday evening?" Pansy interrupted him. Her eyes were pinched a little, making her look like she was scrutinising Harry.
"Why? Did you wait up for me?" Harry joked.
Pansy gave him a sharp poke in the ribs with her elbow.
"Ouch!" Harry groaned, trying to manage the pain as best he could.
"Okay, I probably deserved that one."
Pansy raised her eyebrow at him in a sideways glance, as if to question the probably.
Harry sipped on his pumpkin juice before continuing with his story. He had a feeling Pansy might find it quite interesting.
"Last night, I was in the library and when I walked back on my way to the common room, I heard some voices at some point. I stopped and listened and it was a conversation between Professor Dumbledore and a man called Lucius. I didn't hear the entire conversation, though. It seemed like they had been talking for some time since Dumbledore kept repeating how he had already said some things multiple times. But I think the gist of the conversation was that Lucius suspected something was wrong with the Sorting Hat because his son or daughter ended up in the wrong House. In Gryffindor. Dumbledore said that he would need to discuss it with the other teachers, but that if there was something wrong with the Hat, there would be a re-sorting on Sunday. I thought I'd let you know, because you said you knew you weren't supposed to be sorted into Hufflepuff and that the same was true for me as well. And I think you're right. Everybody expected me to be in Gryffindor, and I wasn't… well… encouraged I think the right word is, about Hufflepuff when Professor Sprout said that some things like friendship were more important than ambition." Harry was silent for a moment, thinking about the sorting ceremony of only a few days ago. Then he jolted back up, unexpectedly realising something else. "And, now that I think of it, there was less applause and more whispering as more students got sorted. As if everybody was confused by the way the Hat was sorting people into Houses. It's got to mean that there is something wrong with the Sorting Hat, right?"
Pansy looked at him with her mouth agape. After a while, she said slowly, "Are you… sure?"
"Well, yeah, I think so," Harry replied. "I mean, I heard the conversation and it was about the Hat and how it needed investigating and that it would possibly lead to a re-sorting this Sunday. And given how people reacted to the sorting and you and I ending up in a House where you know you don't belong and where I'm not thrilled nor expected to be… And other people ending up in a House where they hate it, like Ron… I mean, it has to be that something was wrong with the Hat which would mean that a re-sorting is needed, don't you think?"
Harry was looking at Pansy, almost out of breath after having voiced the current of thoughts that was swirling through his mind at that very moment. There was so much going on and so many reasons why what he heard last night was true… Going through them all was almost like running a marathon, going on and on and wondering how many more miles, or reasons in this case, were left to cover. It also led to many more questions. If there was something wrong about the Hat, then what was it and why had it come about? Was it an accident, or was it done on purpose? And by what or whom? Harry eyed Pansy, looking for affirmation of his story. Even though he was positive he had heard the conversation of the previous night correctly and had deduced the correct conclusions and implications, the idea still sounded so absurd that he needed someone else to verify that he was not crazy. Even though he knew next to nothing about the history of Hogwarts itself, Harry had the distinct feeling that a re-sorting couldn't have been a frequent phenomenon.
"Wow," Pansy said after a while, looking at some vague point further down the table, "That's… great."
Harry smiled.
"A re-sorting? Did I hear that right?"
Both Harry and Pansy looked up to see Anthony Goldstein sitting at the other side of the Hufflepuff table, a little distance away from them, leaning on his elbow to close the distance between them somewhat. He made a conspiratorial impression with his leaning over to them and his not-so-silent whispering. Harry was startled. He had no idea Anthony was overhearing them.
"Oi, get lost, Goldstein," Pansy spat. "What gives you the bloody right to overhear our conversation, let alone think you're a part of it?"
Anthony was visibly startled, scared even. His wide eyes betrayed he had never expected such a reaction. He said nothing and retreated to his place again, looking dejected at his breakfast. He raised his head one more time to look at Harry and Pansy, and Harry mouthed 'I'm sorry' to him. Anthony managed a wry smile and hunched over his breakfast again, alternately looking at a book beside his plate. He was reading again, as he usually did, so perhaps he wasn't that offended by Pansy's outburst. Although Harry didn't like Pansy's bursts of murderous passion, he wasn't about to tell her off or demand she should apologise to Anthony. It had been quite rude of Anthony to listen in on them. Harry was glad Anthony had been cowed somewhat by Pansy, because otherwise Anthony might have spread the news about the possible re-sorting, which would lead back to him overhearing Dumbledore and Lucius' conversation, bringing him in trouble even more.
When Harry turned to Pansy again, she still looked baffled, her eyes glazed over. "A re-sorting… that hasn't happened in the entire history of Hogwarts," she said to no one in particular. "Ugh… I'm sounding like that mudblood Granger." Harry cringed inwardly at the derogatory term, but said nothing.
"Speaking of which," Pansy continued, "that mudblood's friend, Weasley… You said that he hated his House. How did you know that?"
"Ehm… well, he told me, I suppose," Harry said, trying to remember. "Oh, yeah, I met him yesterday in the library. I asked him how it was in Slytherin and he told me."
Pansy snorted. "That figures. The blood traitor. Of course he's going to hate the House that actually wants to preserve pureblood magical culture. And the mudblood thinks the same way, I suppose?"
Harry cringed again. He didn't like the word, but at the same time he didn't feel like standing up to Pansy to defend the muggleborn witch after the way she had treated him the previous evening. "Hey, Ron's my friend. Don't speak about him like that," Harry protested in favour of his friend instead.
"Why?" Pansy challenged. "Are you going to defend a blood traitor who will herald the end of magical culture and society as we know it? Someone who is the very enemy of everything that makes us witches and wizards special?"
Harry was quiet for a while. Then he said, "He's my friend. Just… leave him alone."
Pansy eyed him quizzically for a moment, then shrugged her shoulders and turned back to her breakfast, her gaze fixed on some other vague point on the table in front of her.
"But… wait," Pansy said after a moment, shaking her head briefly and coming out of her daydream-like state. "That's where you were last night? Walking back from the library? But you said you were going to study there until late. So, when you overheard that conversation, wasn't that after curfew? Didn't you get caught?"
"Well, yeah… I did. I was avoiding Filch because Mrs. Norris had sneaked up on me, and then, I ran into Snape. He gave me detention. Well, two actually…" Harry paused. "And, erm…a seventy points deduction from Hufflepuff."
"Seventy points?!" Pansy yelled out, so loud that several heads turned in their direction. "And two detentions?! But that…" she stumbled over her words. "What in Merlin's name did you do that you got two detentions and seventy points from Hufflepuff for simply being out late after curfew?"
"Well, that was sort of the point. I mean, I don't like getting detention, but I thought that if there was going to be a re-sorting, and I thought that was as good as guaranteed given what I just told you, then it'd be a lost opportunity to not get Hufflepuff in trouble and create a lead for whatever House I'd end up in for the competition for the House Cup."
Pansy looked at him in awe as she said, "That's… actually very smart."
Harry's lips curled into a smile, briefly.
"But you can't tell anyone about this. If everybody knows there's going to be a re-sorting, Dumbledore will wonder who picked it up in his conversation yesterday evening. And if he finds out I got detention for being out of bed after curfew at the same time he had the conversation, I'll be in even more trouble. I think two detentions is enough trouble right now."
"You mean tell no one but Goldstein?" Pansy asked, the sarcasm dripping so much Harry could almost taste it. Harry smiled wryly.
"Sure, no one will hear it from me," Pansy said, nodding her agreement. Then, a crystalline tinkling sound reverberated across the Great Hall and the body of students seated for breakfast turned their heads to the source of the sound: the staff table. Professor Dumbledore stood up from his chair at the centre of the table, setting down his knife and glass cup.
"Attention everybody! I have an announcement to make!" The body of students quieted down. Harry had a sudden feeling that he knew what the announcement was going to be about.
"It has been brought to my attention," Dumbledore began, "that the sorting of last Sunday did not go as it was supposed to go." A flurry of whispers went up from the students in the Great Hall. Dumbledore stopped speaking for a moment as if to give room to the students to voice their confusion. The whispering stopped almost immediately after Dumbledore resumed speaking a couple of moments later.
"Some of you may have noticed that the sorting of the first years did not run the same course as it did the previous years. Some students who were expected to be sorted into one House, were sorted into another." Dumbledore's eyes fell on Harry as the professor peered over his half-moon spectacles. Harry startled at the professor's piercing gaze. "Other students were sorted into a different House than the rest of their family," Dumbledore continued, taking his eyes off Harry and looking somewhere at the Slytherin table. Harry had a feeling he was looking at Ron. "And some students were not happy with the decision the Sorting Hat made for them. It may well be the case that a combination of these three circumstances applies to certain students."
Dumbledore paused. Harry remained quiet, as did all the other students in the Great Hall, hanging onto the professor's every word.
"Although it is unusual, it is not unheard of that students are sorted into a House either they or others previously thought of as impossible. However, the scale of these circumstances being present at the sorting of last Sunday was enough to raise suspicion. After a careful discussion with the Board of Governors and the teachers and staff at Hogwarts, it was decided that the matter needed to be investigated. Yesterday evening, this investigation took place, and its conclusion was…" Dumbledore paused. Harry was surprised. A careful discussion with the Board of Governors? It was more like a threat from one of them. And had they really investigated the matter already? "...that the suspicion was justified and that the Sorting Hat had been tampered with."
A shock wave went through the Great Hall. A collective gasp from the students, then silence. Then, immediately after, a loud and heated discussion about the professor's astonishing announcement.
"Silence!" shouted Professor Dumbledore, but nobody seemed to have heard. Everybody was talking with each other. Pansy and Harry simply looked at each other amidst the chaos as Harry heard around him various phrases like 'This can't be true!', 'What does this mean?', and 'Have I been in the wrong House the entire time? This could have happened before, right?'.
"SILENCE!"
Everybody was immediately quiet and didn't move. Dumbledore had raised his wand to his throat and, apparently, it had made his voice many times louder. Harry felt goosebumps on his back from the sheer authoritative power that went out from Dumbledore's voice.
Dumbledore sighed and briefly rubbed his forehead, as if tired.
"It was discovered that the Sorting Hat had been under the influence of a charm that made it behave in the opposite way it usually did. This was the outcome of the diagnostic spellwork performed by our own Professor Flitwick," and as he said it, the professor bowed his head slightly to the right to give the small professor at the staff table his thanks, "and immediately afterwards I set about removing the charm, which was successful. The Sorting Hat is its usual self again." Dumbledore sighed again, deeper this time. "It seems that someone has put this charm on the Sorting Hat with the intent to disturb the sorting. Of course, ideally, this situation should have been prevented from happening in the first place. That didn't happen. And for that, I can only offer the simple and humble answer that the Hogwarts staff and teachers, myself included, never thought of this scenario being a possibility. As I did each year, I continued to keep the Sorting Hat stored in my own study on top of a dusty shelf cabinet so that whenever I happened to look at it, I could reflect on the first time I set foot in this school. That way, it was possible for students who knew how to enter my office, to gain entry and charm the Sorting Hat."
"However," now Dumbledore's expression changed from a sad and sombre one with a contrite tone of voice to a very stern expression and a deep, sharp voice. "We have begun an investigation as to who could have charmed the Sorting Hat and with what intent. At the moment, I can say that we already have an idea as to who the suspect is." Dumbledore paused. "For now, I want to acknowledge that serious consequences have followed from this disturbance of the sorting ceremony which affect the lives of our students. I want to express my deepest and sincerest apologies to all first-year students for having been affected by this event for no other reason than that they were the ones to be sorted this year."
"Only this remains to be said," Dumbledore spoke with a tone of finality, "a wrong has been committed. We, the Hogwarts teachers and staff, along with the Hogwarts Board of Governors, have decided that this wrong should be undone. Simply because the sorting ceremony, a hallmark of every student's magical career, did not follow standard procedure, and because the wrong can be undone with relative ease since only a week has passed since the sorting took place. A new sorting ceremony will be held this Sunday during dinner. The first-year students will be re-sorted into the Houses they should have been sorted into from the start. And because it is most likely that most, if not all, students will end up in different Houses than the ones they are currently in, it is not a representative rendition of each House's efforts if the rewards and punishments awarded to the first-year students in the form of point awarding and deduction are kept in place. Therefore, every change in every House's score of points in the competition for the House Cup that was the result of rewarding or punishing a first-year student, will be set back to zero. As a final remark, I would like to say that, again, I express my deepest apologies for this unprecedented event in Hogwarts history and that I offer the small consolation that I trust that the new sorting ceremony shall take place in its due form. Your parents and guardians will be notified by owl tonight of what has happened and what shall be done to counteract it. I thank you for your attention, and for your patience."
The Headmaster manoeuvred away from the table, around his chair, and disappeared into an adjoining room situated at the same end of the Great Hall as the staff table.
The buzz in the Great Hall that followed the end of the Headmaster's speech was quickly interrupted by the sound of the school bell and Professor McGonagall standing up from behind the staff table to announce loudly, "Breakfast is over! Everybody to their classes!"
Harry was still looking crestfallen from the news that all point punishments awarded to first-year students were being reversed. He thought he'd come up with an ingenious plan, but apparently Professor Dumbledore had seen right through the various possibilities of students costing their House points simply because they didn't care about it because they didn't feel they belonged there.
Pansy was standing up next to him and picking up her school bag from the floor and swinging its shoulder strap across her shoulder. She looked over at him. "Well, thank you Harry, for telling me this top-secret information only minutes before the whole school knows about it," she said with a grin. Harry didn't react. "Oh, come on, Harry. I think it was well worth two whole days of detention and the devastating blow to Hufflepuff's House Cup score to stop and listen in on the conversation that Dumbledore was going to include us in the very next morning."
Harry looked up at her with a wry smile. "I still don't understand," he said, puzzled.
"What?"
"Dumbledore said he acted with the Board of Governors. But that man Lucius seemed to push Dumbledore in a certain direction more than collaborate with him. It looked more like a threat than a cooperation, by some miles. Who is he?"
"Oh, Lucius?" Pansy asked innocently, "His name is Lucius Malfoy. He's Draco's father."
Harry's eyes widened. Great, he thought. The father of the boy I hate is on the Board of Governors.
It was Saturday afternoon. Harry was in the trophy room on the second floor, polishing trophies of all kinds: big ones, small ones, trophies made of brass, copper, silver, and occasionally he even came upon gold trophies. The trophy room was a rather small-sized classroom and very dusty. It seemed like it was used as a storage room for all the trophies, medals, plates, shields, cups, statues, and other awards that were placed in there. It was weird, Harry thought. The castle was big enough to fit the hallways with display cabinets to showcase Hogwarts' most prized possessions. Most hallways were quite empty. Perhaps the trophy room functioned not so much as a storage room, but rather a detention assignment.
Because the room was rather small, it was almost overflowing with all kinds of awards and prizes that Hogwarts students had won over the years. The room was crammed with shelves, cabinets, crystal trophy cases, and tables that were filled to the maximum of their capacity with trophies. The room was ironically quite fitting for its purpose. Although trophies deserved a much bigger room to showcase them, all of them were now covered in such a thick layer of soot and dust that it looked like they quite belonged in the small, dusty, and old-looking room.
Harry picked up a small bronze trophy in the shape of a shield. He bent down, dipped his sponge in a bucket of water, squeezed most of the water out of it, and wiped it over the facade of the trophy. He had had to hand in his wand to Filch at detention's beginning as he was supposed to clean the trophies by hand for his detention. It bothered him, even though he couldn't have cleaned anything with magic yet anyway. Yesterday hadn't been much better: writing lines in the same classroom as Professor Sprout, who sat at her desk at the front of the class grading essays and every now and then looking at him with a scarily angry face because he'd cost Hufflepuff House so many points. Even though the loss of points would be reversed, the fact that he'd let it come so far was enough for Professor Sprout to be angry with him. He was glad he was now serving his detention alone.
As Harry cleaned the trophies on the table in front of him, he read the various inscriptions: 'History of Magic Award, awarded to Gideon Rowle, Slytherin, for achieving a flawless Outstanding grade on his History of Magic N.E.W.T., 1926', 'Potions Award, awarded to Marilyn Callot, Ravenclaw, for brewing a potion of restoration and administering it to a student who had lost consciousness due to smelling the putrid scent of a wrongly brewed Draught of the Living Death, 1958'. At one point, Harry even saw a Transfiguration trophy awarded to Professor Dumbledore, who had apparently pointed out a flaw in one of the questions the examiners asked of him during his Transfiguration N.E.W.T.. Apparently, none of the other students had known the answer and had quite possibly failed the exam had Dumbledore not pointed out the mistake.
As Harry continued cleaning and polishing the prizes, he went from trophy to trophy and caught glimpses of various medals and other awards that were displayed in crystal cabinets along the walls. The more trophies he encountered, Harry began noticing a pattern. Most of the prizes in the room were awarded to either Ravenclaw or Slytherin students, the latter making up the bulk of the awards in the room. Only occasionally did Harry see an award earned by a Hufflepuff or a Gryffindor. Harry thought about it as he mindlessly continued scrubbing away at some solid-turned dust on the plaque of yet another trophy. It seemed as though Slytherins were the most ambitious students and therefore won most of the awards. It was logical, since Slytherin was the House renowned for its students' eagerness to achieve greatness. As Harry reflected further, he realised that they won the awards because they had done some commendable deed. They had acted wisely or heroically, and were rewarded for it. Have I ever done something that was worth a reward?
Harry came up empty. It was only his first week at Hogwarts and before that, his life had been characterised by the Dursleys for most of the time. They never thought he had done something commendable, let alone that he was capable of it. Harry suddenly thought of Michael Brown. What he had done, not defending his friend and running away instead, was nothing commendable. It was cowardly. And it wasn't even that he had acted… It was the lack of action that still stung whenever he thought of it.
With a shock, Harry realised that he had never really acted before. His whole life had been a chain of events characterised by him reacting to whatever happened to him: how the Dursleys treated him; how Dudley and his gang of bullies chased after him at school…
Harry gazed again at the trophy he held in his hand and had stopped cleaning once he had lost himself in his own thoughts. It was a reward for yet another Slytherin student, awarded to him because of his performance of special services to the school. This student, and all the other students who had earned the awards in this room, had done something Harry had never done before: they had acted.
Then, Harry suddenly remembered the re-sorting. It was a new beginning. He would be sorted into a different House, and he could begin his Hogwarts career anew with a fresh start in a new common room with new friends. Perhaps, he thought, it could also be a new beginning in another way. He could start acting instead of reacting. He could make his own decisions and create his own path during his time at Hogwarts instead of other people deciding it for him. Starting tomorrow, after the re-sorting, he vowed to do just that.
A/N Thanks for reading again! Hopefully, the new year has begun auspiciously for every one of you. You can expect the next installment of this fic to be uploaded around the 28th of January. Let us know what you think of this chapter, and of the fic so far, in the comments!