Kyle didn't waste a second. With three quick strides, he was up on the stage, escaping the tension he'd felt under Kanna's watchful glare. Once on the stage, he let out a sigh of relief, patting his chest. He turned to Professor McGonagall and said sincerely, "Thank you, Professor."
His sudden show of politeness seemed to catch her off guard. It took her a moment to react, but then she gave a small shake of her head, saying, "It's my duty." Still, her stern expression softened noticeably. Before placing the Sorting Hat on Kyle's head, she even took the extra step of brushing off some of the dust from the hat.
Such a polite child, she thought, I hope he can be sorted into Gryffindor. Gryffindor was in desperate need of more model students like him. Last year, she had secretly wished to bring Cedric Diggory into her house, but both Professor Sprout and Dumbledore had objected. This year, she was hopeful again.
As she placed the Sorting Hat on Kyle's head, McGonagall looked at him intently, silently hoping the Sorting Hat would finally make the right call.
...
"Strange, very strange," a soft voice whispered in Kyle's ear as soon as the hat was on. "You sincerely thanked her? That's unusual. Are you really one of those good kids?"
"Of course I am!" Kyle responded seriously. "You can ask around. The Weasley family and even Mr. Scamander have said I'm the most polite and well-behaved child they've ever met. So please, don't slander me. Otherwise, I'll complain about you, even if you are just a hat."
The Sorting Hat fell into a rare silence. Its brim wobbled back and forth, as if unsure how to respond or perhaps struggling with a decision.
After a long pause, the hat finally spoke again. "Your shamelessness reminds me of the old days, a thousand years ago, back when I was just an ordinary hat on Godric's head. Well then, how about Gryffindor? I feel like that's where you should be... But no, it's not quite right for you."
"I think—" Kyle began, but the Sorting Hat cut him off.
"Let me think," the hat interrupted, mulling over its options. "Maybe Slytherin would be better. You could achieve great things there, no question about it."
"That..."
"Hold on, hold on," the Sorting Hat interrupted him again. "No, Slytherin doesn't feel quite right either. Besides, if I send you there, Snape will probably pour some strange potion on me later. Let me think... Dumbledore's put me in a difficult spot this time... If only Azkaban or Nurmengard were part of Hogwarts..."
...
The Sorting Hat sounded like it was joking, but Kyle couldn't find it funny at all. What's going on? He hadn't done anything that bad—at most, he'd just scared Kanna a little earlier. Could that really get him sent to Nurmengard? How was that fair? Plenty of wizards did far worse things, and they weren't being shipped off to wizarding prisons!
Kyle realized he needed to do something, fast. If the Sorting Hat actually shouted out "Nurmengard," it'd be a disaster. Azkaban was at least under Ministry control, and you couldn't just be sent there on a whim. But Nurmengard... that was different. Dumbledore had connections, and if anyone could pull some strings, it was him.
Deep down, Kyle suspected the Sorting Hat's remarks were simply a jab at him for his earlier comment about filing a complaint. But still, what if... What if the hat, with its thousand years of history and independent consciousness, decided to make things interesting and call out something ridiculous, just for a laugh? Who knew what went on in that ancient mind?
"That..." Kyle began, putting on his most harmless smile. "That was a fantastic song you sang earlier. Especially the first few lines—concise lyrics, light tone. Way better than the clichés from the Weird Sisters."
The Sorting Hat immediately perked up. "You think so too? I've been saying that for ages! It took me a whole year to come up with it. But Dumbledore never appreciated it. He even tried to get me to sing the school song. That old bee!"
Uh oh... Kyle didn't feel comfortable badmouthing the headmaster, even if he wasn't around to hear it. Clearing his throat awkwardly, he decided to steer the conversation in a safer direction. "By the way, that song of yours—there's something about it that sounds familiar. Is it, perhaps, in the rap style?"
"Rap style?" The Sorting Hat sounded curious. "What does that mean?"
"You don't know? You've invented it yourself—impressive!" Kyle exclaimed, feigning shock. "Rap is a style of Muggle music that's very popular."
"Muggle music..." The Sorting Hat seemed even more intrigued.
"Yes, I think it would suit you perfectly. If you want, I could get you something related to it for Christmas," Kyle offered sincerely.
"Okay... wait, no!" The Sorting Hat caught itself. "We've got to focus. It's already been a while, and you must be hungry. Let's not keep dinner waiting." Clearing its imaginary throat, the hat resumed, "Now, where were we?"
Kyle grinned and reminded it, "You said I was polite and well-behaved, but that neither Gryffindor, Slytherin, nor Ravenclaw felt quite right."
"Huh? Did I mention Ravenclaw?" the hat murmured, sounding momentarily confused. "Oh, right! You're absolutely correct. In that case, the decision is obvious..."
"Hufflepuff!"
The moment the Sorting Hat announced Kyle's house, the hall erupted into applause. Even the teachers at the staff table joined in. The Sorting, which had taken a record-breaking twenty minutes—easily the longest in Hogwarts' history—was finally over. And not a moment too soon, as everyone was starving by now. Normally, the feast would have already started by this time.
The Hufflepuff table was especially lively. Cedric Diggory, grinning broadly, rushed over to give Kyle an enthusiastic hug. "Great, Kyle! I knew you'd end up in Hufflepuff."
Kyle laughed. "The Sorting Hat got great tastes."
"Huh?" Cedric looked momentarily puzzled, unsure of what Kyle meant.
But Kyle just smiled and didn't elaborate. At that moment, several older students approached to shake Kyle's hand. Judging by the badges on their robes, they were Hufflepuff prefects. It was a tradition to welcome new students, while also helping prefects get to know the incoming first-years.
Kyle greeted them warmly and then took the empty seat next to Cedric. The prefect who had been sitting there graciously offered up his spot after realizing Kyle and Cedric were already acquainted.
Once seated, Kyle joined the rest of the hall in looking back at the Sorting Hat. But deep down, his decision had already been made. He had always wanted to be in Hufflepuff. After all, Newt Scamander had been a Hufflepuff, and so had his father, Chris. As someone who loved magical creatures, Hufflepuff was the natural choice. Plus, Kyle wasn't interested in dwelling on dark wizards or Voldemort right now. He wanted to fully embrace the joy and magic of Hogwarts life, and there was no better place for that than Hufflepuff, with its enthusiastic and loyal community.
Besides, the Hufflepuff dormitory was conveniently located right next to the kitchen—an undeniable bonus.
/////
After taking his seat at the Hufflepuff table, Kyle felt an overwhelming sense of relief wash over him. Before the Sorting Ceremony, he'd been anxious, uncertain about where he might end up. But now, with everything settled and him officially a part of Hogwarts, a true sense of belonging took hold. It was a wonderful feeling.
Kyle rested his chin in his left hand, leaning his arm casually on the table as he watched the rest of the Sorting Ceremony unfold. The anticipation for dinner was growing, but he felt at ease, leisurely enjoying the moment.
Because his sorting had taken so long, many students around the auditorium were curiously glancing in his direction. Several witches, noticing Kyle sitting and chatting with Cedric, exchanged frustrated looks with their classmates.
Why did all the good-looking ones go to Hufflepuff? they seemed to think, grinding their teeth in envy.
Meanwhile, over at the Gryffindor table, Fred and George Weasley were similarly upset.
"Why did Kyle go to Hufflepuff?" Fred groaned, pounding his thigh in frustration. "Now we can't use the welcome ceremony we prepared!"
"Shut up, Fred. I need a moment to process this," George muttered, scratching his head. "Honestly, even if Kyle had gone to Slytherin, I could've handled it. But Hufflepuff? How's that even possible?"
"Yeah!" Fred agreed. "Kyle? Loyal? Kind? The Sorting Hat must've gone senile!"
Before they could continue lamenting, a newly sorted Gryffindor sat down in the empty seat next to them.
The next moment, a loud yelp pierced the hall.
"Oww!"
Everyone's heads turned as the new Gryffindor student leapt into the air, clutching his bottom and looking like a startled Wiggentree Bowtruckle. He bolted from his seat, running around in circles, wailing in pain.
It was only then that the hall realized what had happened. A small, round object—about the size of a Quidditch snitch—was attached to the back of the student, biting down on his bottom with a set of sharp teeth.
"Wait, that ball looks kind of familiar..." Fred mumbled as the scene unfolded. He glanced at George, a sudden realization dawning on him. "George, didn't you put the biting ball away?"
George, wide-eyed, replied, "No... I thought you did!"
The twins exchanged a horrified look before both turned to the seat where the student had been sitting. Sure enough, it was empty.
"Oh, damn it," Fred muttered, scratching his head in distress. "That was our entire savings!"
The biting ball was a new prank item Fred and George had purchased from the Zonko's Joke Shop at a steep price. It could disguise itself as a cushion, lying in wait for an unsuspecting victim to sit on it. The problem? It cost them three galleons—a hefty sum for the mischievous pair.
But they had been determined to make Kyle's sorting memorable. They had pooled all their savings to buy the biting ball, preparing an unforgettable surprise for their younger "brother." During the Sorting Ceremony, they'd stealthily set it up on an empty seat nearby, confident Kyle would be sorted into Gryffindor. Once he was, they'd lead him to sit on the disguised cushion, delivering the perfect prank.
Everything had been set up flawlessly. Even if Kyle were sorted into another house, they could simply retrieve the cushion afterward without much fuss.
But fate had other plans. Kyle had been sorted into Hufflepuff, the last house they ever expected. The shock of it had left Fred and George too stunned to retrieve the cushion in time.
And now, instead of pranking Kyle, they watched helplessly as the biting ball caused chaos in the hall, gnawing at the rear of an innocent Gryffindor first-year.
"Fred, do you think we can get the Biting Ball back?" George asked, his eyes fixed on the back of the unfortunate new student. He felt a pang of regret. Three Galleons—that could have bought an entire box of Dungbombs. How could he not feel sad?
Fred glanced over at Professor McGonagall, who was already heading toward the new student, and sighed. "I don't think we can get it back."
The two brothers sighed in unison, their hopes deflated.
Meanwhile, Professor McGonagall reached the new Gryffindor, casually removed the Biting Ball from his robe, and checked him over. Fortunately, the young wizard was unharmed, and his robes weren't damaged either. It was a standard harmless prank, after all. Recognizing the familiar tricks and the tools used in this sort of mischief, McGonagall didn't need to guess who the culprits were. She shot a piercing glare straight at Fred and George.
However, since the Sorting Ceremony wasn't yet over, she said nothing more than, "Twenty points deducted from Gryffindor," before turning around and heading back to the stage.
The new student, still shaken, was escorted back to the table by Percy. After checking his robes three more times to ensure he was truly safe, he cautiously sat back down.
Across the hall, Kyle, seeing the miserable expressions on Fred and George's faces, couldn't resist a smirk. He extended a middle finger in their direction, his amusement plain.
Kyle knew without a doubt that the Biting Ball had been meant for him. The twins had been planning to prank him for ages, and now their mischief had backfired, caught by Professor McGonagall. Poetic justice, he thought smugly.
"No, George, Kyle's too arrogant," Fred muttered, his face flushing red with anger. While many at Hogwarts wouldn't understand Kyle's rude gesture, Fred knew all too well what it meant. After all, every time Kyle had gotten the upper hand on them, this had been his signature insult.
"Don't worry, Fred. As long as Kyle's at Hogwarts, we still have a chance," George said, equally furious. His ears had turned red with frustration. But there was nothing they could do at the moment. Professor McGonagall's warning glare was enough to make them hold off on any retaliation for now. They could only respond by flipping Kyle off from across the room, a small act of defiance.
For the moment, they suppressed their desire for revenge and tried to avoid looking at Kyle's smug face.
Kyle didn't care about their gestures. To him, it was just the final, pitiful resistance of two sore losers. He didn't take it seriously.
He knew Fred and George wouldn't let this go easily. Even now, they were probably plotting how to get back at him. But so what? In their eleven-year war of pranks, Kyle had almost always come out on top. The only times he'd lost were back when he was younger, and Charlie Weasley, with his seniority and size, had tipped the balance in the twins' favor.
But now Charlie was occupied with his graduation exams and Quidditch, leaving Fred and George without their strongest ally. Without him, they had no real backup.
What are they going to do? Ask Ron for help? Kyle thought with a chuckle. If that was the case, defeating them would be even easier.
With his near-flawless record against the twins, Kyle was unafraid of whatever they might come up with next.
/////
After the unexpected chaos caused by the biting ball, the Sorting Hat quickly returned to its efficient pace, sorting the remaining students as soon as it touched their hair. With this newfound speed, they were soon down to the last two new students.
"Kanna Prince!"
The familiar name caught Kyle and Cedric's attention at once. Both of them looked over at the girl from the train.
"That's the girl we saw earlier, right?" Cedric asked curiously. "Where do you think she'll end up—Slytherin?"
"Probably," Kyle replied, scratching his back out of habit. "Judging by her fancy clothes, she's likely a pureblood. Slytherin makes the most sense..."
But then, Kyle suddenly froze. Something seemed off. Just after Professor McGonagall called Kanna's name, he noticed that Snape—who had been sitting with a bored, disinterested expression throughout the ceremony—had leaned forward, focusing on the Sorting Hat with unusual intensity.
Wait... do they know each other? Kyle thought, a chill running down his spine.
It wasn't completely impossible. Despite Snape's reclusive tendencies and his general avoidance of social gatherings, he was still a well-known figure in the wizarding world, especially as a Potions Master and one of Hogwarts' Heads of House. He was bound to have connections, and it wouldn't be shocking if Kanna's family was among them.
A sinking feeling took hold of Kyle. Could this be bad for me? If Snape really had ties to Kanna's family, and he found out that Kyle had tricked her on the train, things could get messy. Knowing Snape's personality, Kyle feared he might be in for some unpleasant "protagonist treatment" far sooner than he'd like.
It can't be that coincidental, Kyle thought nervously, feeling the back of his neck prickle. He had just been gloating about the Weasley twins getting what they deserved, and now it seemed like retribution was already headed his way.
As he anxiously watched the platform, Kyle noticed something strange. When it came time for Kanna's sorting, the usually fast Sorting Hat seemed to slow down, as if it had returned to its earlier indecision. The entire hall waited, and waited. A minute passed before the Sorting Hat finally called out:
"Hufflepuff!"
Huh?
A wave of enthusiastic cheers erupted from the Hufflepuff table, and the prefects jumped up to welcome Kanna. Kyle, however, was left staring in confusion as she passed by him, question marks practically floating above his head.
What just happened? Purebloods rarely ended up in Hufflepuff, and while it wasn't completely unheard of (after all, Newt Scamander was a famous Hufflepuff), it was still uncommon. Purebloods were typically sorted into Slytherin, and Kyle had assumed Kanna would follow that path.
Could it have been because of me? Kyle dismissed the thought quickly. The Sorting Hat didn't play games. It had the responsibility of determining a student's best path, one that would influence their future. No matter how young or naive Kanna might be, the hat wouldn't let her personal whims affect its judgment. Otherwise, her family wouldn't take it lightly.
Kyle recalled something his father, Chris, had once told him. When Sirius Black was sorted into Gryffindor instead of Slytherin, the Black matron had thrown a fit at Hogwarts. If it weren't for Dumbledore stepping in, the Sorting Hat might have been destroyed by Fiendfyre. The incident had caused quite a stir, and for a time, there were serious discussions within the Ministry of Magic about replacing the Sorting Hat with a different method for sorting students.
The idea had even garnered a surprising level of support. Many pureblood families, especially the most traditionalist ones, didn't want their children sorted anywhere but Slytherin. For them, having a Gryffindor—or any other house—member in the family was a mark of disgrace.
Of course, the proposal never went through. Dumbledore, who had been far less lenient back then, had firmly opposed it, and pureblood families were too intimidated to challenge his authority. The matter had been dropped, but since that time, no member of the pureblood families involved had been sorted anywhere but Slytherin.
Kyle couldn't resist a glance toward the teachers' table to gauge Snape's reaction. If Snape had a connection to Kanna's family, it would be easy to tell by his response to her sorting.
Well...
Kyle was wrong. Snape's face was as dark as a storm cloud, and he looked as if he might start dripping with rage at any moment. He was deep in conversation with Dumbledore, occasionally glancing over at the Hufflepuff table, where Kanna had just taken her seat.
Kyle quickly lowered his head, trying to make himself as inconspicuous as possible. Could the Sorting Hat really be that bold? His heart pounded a little faster.
Meanwhile, the final new student had been sorted and took their place at the Gryffindor table. Dumbledore stood up, smiling warmly at the students, and spread his arms wide. "Welcome, welcome to another new year at Hogwarts! There's nothing more delightful than seeing you all here once again. What are you waiting for? Eat!"
At once, the empty tables before them filled with steaming dishes. Mountains of beef, roast chicken, pork chops, sausages, and steaks appeared, along with boiled potatoes, pea shoots, and French fries for those who preferred something lighter. The smell of the feast filled the air, making everyone's appetite grow.
Kyle shook his head, trying to push all the Snape-Kanna worries out of his mind. Forget it, he thought. What's done is done—what's the use of overthinking it? Whatever came next, he wouldn't be the first to suffer. The Sorting Hat was the one who made the final call, after all. And if Snape really wanted to make his life difficult, it wouldn't last forever. Once Harry Potter enrolls next year, Snape won't care about me anymore, Kyle reassured himself.
He pushed the thoughts aside and focused on the meal, reaching for a fried chicken leg and biting into it. The skin was perfectly crispy, the meat tender and juicy, filling his mouth with a burst of flavor.
The baked potatoes were equally delicious, simple but perfectly cooked. He liked that there wasn't too much seasoning, allowing the natural flavor of the potatoes to shine. For an extra kick, he added some black pepper and ketchup from the side and found the combination surprisingly good. He reached for another potato, ready to enjoy it in peace.
But just as Kyle cut into the potato, Cedric leaned over, lowering his voice. "Have you noticed that she keeps staring at you?"
"Staring at me? Who?" Kyle asked, not looking up as he reached for the black pepper.
"Kanna Prince, the girl from the train," Cedric said, raising an eyebrow and pointing mockingly across the table. "Look—she's doing it again."