Well, continuing from the previous message, it's a pleasure to know that many people have enjoyed my stories, so I've decided not to set them aside. Greetings from your friend, KaleidoMirror. I'm trying to update and improve my stories, and I'll see if I can update some of them. For now, I'll bring you the improved and revised versions.

Summary:

A sword awakens in the midst of the sorting ceremony of the four houses at Hogwarts, with its memory fragmented. It will face a completely new magical world, worried about its new identity, unaware of its latent abilities, and torn between following its ideals or trusting the new feelings in its heart.

"Harry Potter" and its various literary installments are original film adaptations belonging to the author, J.K. Rowling.

"Fate/Stay Night," along with its various adaptations and visual novels, is originally the property of the author Kinoko Nasu, Typemoon.

"Hogwarts Blood Wizard" is an original work and belonged to the author Pure Little Angel.

Kalei only uses them for recreational and entertainment purposes, so I reiterate that none of the characters or parts of the work are of my own creation.

Beta for this occasion: Mr. Jorge94

Greetings to all.

Without further ado, enjoy reading.

Private Diary Entry

Albus Dumbledore, current headmaster of Hogwarts (1991).

From the first encounter I had the privilege of holding with young Smith, I was deeply struck by the nature of his personality, which was completely distinct from the common arrogance and youthful vanity. In that instant, I knew I was in the presence of someone exceptional, and as time passed, that perception only grew stronger with each of his actions. It was truly astonishing; I had never crossed paths with a youth who exhibited such a unique perspective on life. While I can object that his vision was tinted with certain distortions, those imperfections went unnoticed in the face of his undeniable ability to find merits in every individual, no matter how humble or unfortunate they seemed.

Who would have suspected the immense secrets that lay hidden in the shadow of the Hogwarts student? During his regular strolls through the institution's majestic corridors, James Smith maintained a genuine smile on his face at all times, thus disguising the heavy burden he bore on his young shoulders. Despite his efforts to keep those feelings buried deep within himself, he could not prevent his emotions from surfacing. The profound loss that haunted him was evident, and one did not require to be an exceptional wizard to notice it. In the midst of overwhelming despair, the result of the simple circumstance of his birth, James had faced a perilous fate that had nearly taken his life in his tender infancy. It was precisely for this reason that my amazement at his resilience and humanity continued to grow. Despite the unfortunate circumstances surrounding him, James Smith emerged as a being endowed with immense empathy and compassion.

I could not help but reflect on his future from that first day our paths crossed. What would be in store for this young man, whose life had been shaped by a blend of misfortune and innate goodness? What would be his next steps on the path of magic and life? It was a question that never ceased to occupy my mind, and in a way, I felt destined to witness an extraordinary story in the magical world.

The Great Hall, with its spectacular ceiling transformed into a celestial canvas adorned with a full moon and dark clouds conjured by a complex spell, was a sight to behold. Beneath this wondrous firmament, a multitude of floating candles shed their light upon the young wizards, whose emotions fluctuated between curiosity and anticipation.

In the center of attention, a wrinkled, talking hat with a mouth that opened from the edges nervously twisted on a stool. It occasionally emitted strange laughs when brave students were selected for one of the four houses, adding a touch of mystery and amusement to the event.

"Susan Pence... Hufflepuff!"

"Moon White... Slytherin!"

"Emma Dobbs... Gryffindor!"

"Dereck Midgen... Ravenclaw!"

"Justin Finley... Hufflepuff!"

Each name pronounced resonated throughout the hall, and the eager students made their way to the sorting area where the hat would make its decision. The houses applauded warmly or with reservation, depending on the assigned house, while the new members joined the older students at their respective tables.

Despite the historical rivalry between Gryffindor and Slytherin, during the sorting ceremony, there was a surprising harmony in the atmosphere. It was as if, for a brief moment, differences were set aside, overshadowed by the shared excitement of welcoming new members to the Hogwarts community.

Among the students waiting their turn in the middle of the room was a young man of elegant demeanor, whose gaze seemed lost in some corner of his mind. Just moments ago, he had regained consciousness and now found himself in this strange place, marveling at the intricate decorations of the Great Hall. He marveled at how the candles could float in the air and how the ceiling had transformed into a clear starry sky.

Despite the candlelight, the bright lights of the hallway illuminated the vast expanse of the auditorium, revealing details that captured his attention. Translucent ghosts fluttered about, some observing the ceremony with joy and anticipation. The young man was overwhelmed by the extravagance of the place, and his thoughts began to flow in a disordered manner.

"Who am I? Where am I? What am I doing here?" he muttered softly, unable to contain his confusion. "It's so strange... Why can't I remember anything?"

A whirlwind of memories and conflicting emotions overwhelmed him. Some were warm and familiar, others dark and disturbing, but all seemed foreign and confusing. As his mind tried to make sense of the chaos, he began to regain a connection with his surroundings and the sensations that enveloped him.

However, before he could fully understand his situation, a loud and authoritative voice resonated in the hall, interrupting his thoughts.

"Shirou Smith!"

Professor Minerva McGonagall rose from her seat at one of the tables and made her way to the sorting area, where she waited impatiently. She looked at the parchment again, puzzled by the lack of response from the first-year students. Even Headmaster Dumbledore raised an eyebrow, curiously observing the situation as older students began to whisper among themselves.

"Who is this... Smith? What is he thinking? Could he be so brave?" someone wondered quietly.

"Maybe he's decided from the start that he doesn't want to be sorted? Is he trying to get expelled before he even begins?" suggested another with interest.

"This is truly intriguing," added a third with a mysterious smile.

The young man, Shirou Smith, continued to be immersed in a sea of thoughts and emotions, not fully comprehending the enigma unfolding around him.

It was at that precise moment that the last remaining students found themselves under the scrutinizing gazes of Headmaster Dumbledore, the other professors, and the senior student body. In the midst of this unusual setting, the new students decided to maintain a considerable distance between themselves, taking a few steps back. In the front row of the crowd was a young student with red hair and golden pupils who still didn't grasp the reason behind this new development. He remained motionless, with a mixture of astonishment and confusion on his face, directing his gaze towards the owner of the voice who appeared concerned.

"Shirou Smith, please come to the stage here," insisted Professor McGonagall, her voice echoing in the Great Hall.

"Is she referring to me?" murmured Shirou, still confused, as he pointed at himself and wrestled in a dazed state, not comprehending what was happening in front of him.

"That's correct. Could you please come up here as soon as possible? The sorting event to determine the most suitable house for you will take place, just as others have done before... There are still quite a few new students that need to be sorted, so we must hurry." Despite being the fourth time Professor McGonagall called for Shirou, her tone remained patient, understanding the nerves that could affect a first-year student at this crucial moment.

Before Shirou could react, he felt himself gently pushed forward. Still dazed, he glanced at the classmates behind him who had not yet been sorted. He looked at them with bitterness before turning his gaze to the older students, who were watching him with concern. Once again, the first-year students who had not been sorted pushed him toward the stage, as if they had come to a tacit understanding.

For some reason, Shirou felt luck was not on his side, that he was destined to be overlooked. Yielding to the gaze of his peers, he advanced toward the stage, though still filled with doubts.

"Alright, young one, come here quickly," said Professor McGonagall, taking a step forward to guide Shirou, placing her hands on his shoulders, and offering him a seat on the stool. She then took the sorting hat and gently placed it on Shirou's head.

The Sorting Hat assumed its place and began to rotate slowly on Shirou's head. Despite the young man remaining still, waiting for something to happen, a full minute passed with nothing occurring. He began to worry, and the hat responded with a playful tone.

"Hey there, lad, don't be so shy. You're not the first to feel nervous in a place like this," said the hat, its wrinkled leather mimicking narrowed eyes. "The sorting doesn't hurt at all."

Despite his best efforts to stay calm, Shirou couldn't help but be amazed by the hat's childlike demeanor. Additionally, he felt a great curiosity about the voice in his head but was also perplexed by the new place he found himself in, surrounded by strangers. He began to make guesses about his situation, which was becoming increasingly distant from what he considered normal, to the point of being completely unbelievable.

"It's the first time since I was created that a young wizard has gone through the sorting ceremony without knowing anything about Hogwarts," said the Sorting Hat.

"Hogwarts?" Shirou asked, confused.

"That's right, young wizard. Hogwarts is the finest school of magic and wizardry in the world," the hat replied proudly.

"Is it a magical place where magic is taught?" Shirou asked, amazed by the idea.

"Exactly, my young Smith. Hogwarts is a British school of magic and wizardry, located in the Scottish Highlands," the hat explained.

"Incredible," Shirou muttered, reflecting on this new information.

"You should consider yourself fortunate. You were selected to study at this prestigious school. I can understand that you may not remember receiving a letter from the headmaster over a month ago, explaining the reasons why you have the opportunity to attend Hogwarts and learn about the most important branches of magic," said the hat.

Shirou remained silent, not knowing what to say in response to this revelation.

"I suppose you might come from a Muggle family, right? It's not really unusual. Every couple of years, there are always some new students who don't believe in magic. I understand their skepticism and logic, influenced by the Muggle environment in which they grew up, where magic is seen as tricks and deceptions. Some even try to prove that there's no reason I can communicate with them. I remember one who imagined the possibility of pulling a white rabbit out of me, even though I explained that would never happen; he simply didn't believe me..." the Sorting Hat made a silly joke, with its split mouth almost reaching the edge.

"Amazing! Unbelievable! This is really something else!" exclaimed Shirou, astonished by the conversation with the hat, which silenced the whispers that had arisen among the crowd.

All eyes were on Shirou. Every student, except the first-year students who had not yet been sorted, had experienced the sorting with the hat, but they had never heard the hat say anything beyond the traditional song.

All eyes were on Shirou. Every student, except the first years who were still waiting to be sorted, had experienced the Sorting Hat, but they had never heard the hat utter a single word beyond its traditional song.

What others were unaware of, and what surprised Shirou himself, was the Sorting Hat's unique ability to penetrate people's minds, a skill known as Legilimency. Shirou's instincts immediately alerted him to the hat's intentions, and he tightly closed off his mind to prevent any intrusion.

Suddenly, his mind erupted in flames before extinguishing itself, revealing a worn book that opened and explored its contents. Without warning, the pages of the book forcefully turned, revealing new scattered memories that had been hidden in the depths of his mind. Shirou struggled to piece them together, but they seemed just out of his grasp.

One prominent memory showed an elderly, noble-looking wizard sitting in an old armchair next to a crackling fireplace. The old man stood up and approached a young child who was gazing at a rusty sword. He smiled wistfully, as if imparting unique magic to the child.

The elderly wizard appeared to be around sixty in Shirou's memory, but despite his age, his bearing exuded nobility. He had thick white hair, with streaks of red peeking through. The image of the elderly wizard stirred feelings of panic, fear, and sadness in Shirou's heart.

The Sorting Hat was also puzzled. It had never encountered a mind as disordered as Shirou's. While the young man didn't appear to come from a Muggle family, the hat wondered how there could still be wizarding children who didn't believe in magic or recognize the importance of Hogwarts.

Meanwhile, cold sweat appeared on Shirou's forehead. The new thoughts and memories that the Sorting Hat had probed in his mind had left his thoughts in complete disarray. Nothing made sense now, his life, his existence, everything seemed irrational. Shirou tried to avoid dwelling on it for the moment and decided to address it later.

"Ahem," coughed Professor McGonagall, seeing that the Sorting Hat seemed to be taking its time with Shirou. She wanted to remind it to conclude the sorting quickly.

The Sorting Hat stopped delving into Shirou's thoughts and noticed that the young redhead beneath it appeared more relieved. Though it still felt immense curiosity, it had a primary task to fulfill: to sort someone as unique as Shirou Smith into the right house.

"Undoubtedly, this is the most interesting sorting I've had in my entire existence," said the Sorting Hat before continuing. "Let's see, Gryffindor represents the house of bravery and daring, and you, young one, have a bold spirit. You are courageous and daring, even if you don't believe it."

"I think you're mistaken," Shirou responded, his voice filled with doubt.

"Don't underestimate yourself. You are selfless, self-sacrificing, and willing to fight for your ideals. But you also have some stubbornness that can lead to acting recklessly. However, you have something that reminds me so much of my foolish Master, although I can attribute it to your young age; you are unaware of the fine line between being brave and being foolish."

"Are you implying that I'm foolish?" he raised an eyebrow with clear irritation.

"Although you deny it, you have the potential to be a true Gryffindor, someone who would die for those they love," ignoring Shirou's comment deliberately, the Sorting Hat continued, "Next is Ravenclaw, for the intelligent and curious. You have a constant thirst for knowledge and are creative. Although you sometimes have other priorities, I cannot deny that you possess qualities resembling those of a true Ravenclaw, someone capable of seeking ways to prevent anyone you love from dying, and that is worthy of recognition."

"That's why you have me in a great dilemma, young Shirou. Hufflepuff values justice, loyalty, and hard work. Your patience in your training and your tolerance are surprisingly comparable to my Lady Helga. Your honest smile reminds me of some of the most beloved members of Hufflepuff. You can be a true Hufflepuff, someone who would die with those they love."

"Last but not least, there's Slytherin, known for ambition and cunning, it would welcome you with open arms if it witnessed your lineage. You are a natural leader and have the ability to do whatever it takes to achieve your goals. Because above all else, that essence is perfectly carved into the deepest part of your soul, no matter how many times you deny it; you have the potential to be a true Slytherin, only a true Slytherin would kill for those they love, no matter the means they have to employ."

A profound silence enveloped Shirou as he absorbed the words of the Sorting Hat. He felt like he was at the epicenter of a storm of possibilities, and the magnitude of what he was about to face began to settle in his mind. However, the Sorting Hat didn't allow him to delve deeper into his thoughts, as after a long sigh, it suddenly lowered its voice.

"I must say I've never witnessed magic as unique as yours since my creation..."

The words resonated in Shirou's mind, and overwhelming confusion overtook him. The revelations about his own unique magic seemed like an unsolved riddle. He recalled the moments when he had spoken with the elderly wizard in front of the fireplace, and the image of his magic seemed to take on new meaning.

"Oh, yes, ancient and rare magic..." the Sorting Hat whispered while seeming to lose itself in its own memories. "In my opinion, it's also a unique and creative way of using magic, although I'm afraid to tell you that the weight of your ideals will define a future that could be filled with eternal regret or, ultimately, lead you to true happiness."

As Shirou struggled to process these words, he noticed an expression on the Sorting Hat's face that suggested resignation but also a touch of longing.

"I must say my old Master never managed to reach the throne... You, perhaps, can achieve it through your own merit."

Shirou was trapped in a state of bewilderment, lost in his thoughts. The hat, clearly a powerful magical object, had revealed a series of paths that could take him in completely different directions than he had considered. At first, he hadn't attached much importance to the Sorting Hat's choice, but now he understood that it could completely change his destiny, with irreversible consequences. Fear and uncertainty clouded his judgment, and he couldn't help but urgently ask:

"Which one should I go to? Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, Slytherin?"

The Sorting Hat's expression changed, and it sighed with regret before responding:

"Though my choice may influence your future, it's up to you to decide which path you should follow. My job is to select the house that will allow you to reach your full potential."

Shirou nodded with gratitude, though he wasn't entirely sure of his own abilities.

"Sounds good, but I'm not that confident," he admitted.

The hat smiled conspiratorially before returning to its characteristic humorous tone.

"Don't worry, you can trust me. Besides, I have a spotless record of never making a mistake in sorting a student into one of the four houses."

Shirou, however, couldn't help but keep his mouth shut at this assertion, silently wondering if such a record was truly accurate.

"This may sadden you a bit, but Slytherin might be the best fit for you," the Sorting Hat began before abruptly changing its tone.

"Gryffindor!" exclaimed the Sorting Hat, this time with a powerful and authoritative voice that resonated throughout the hall.

Shirou removed the hat from his head, surprised by this new direction in his life. It was already too late to voice objections about the Sorting Hat's deliberate choice.

"This will be truly interesting," muttered the Sorting Hat as it watched Shirou make his way to the Gryffindor table.

As it waited for the next student, the hat, amid laughter, lost itself in thought. However, it soon regained its demeanor of rectitude and aspiration.

"You can trust me. I've never made a mistake in sorting before. Shirou Emiya, you have everything it takes to achieve greatness in the magical world. You'll have the chance to become a hero and leave your mark on history."

Goodbye, my friends. KaleidoMirror bids farewell.