Dumbledore stood at the front of of the Hall, his eyes scanning the room as students waited for the term to begin, his first as Headmaster…
Nervously thinking back on his own sorting, he realized that for all his struggle to find the right words, what he said wasn't as important as this feeling of belonging would come to be.
Dumbledore figured that the best way
was to put the first years out of their misery already.
He
motioned to the sorting hat to be brought out, to see what this
year's crop of witches and wizards were made of.
