Hogwarts Study Panel

Chapter 289: The Sword of Gryffindor

"As long as you tell me something, I won't do anything to you."

Sheen held up the crumpled Sorting Hat and spoke calmly.

"Of course, of course, I believe in you more than anyone else, little wizard."

The Sorting Hat wiggled happily, somewhat surprised by the result, yet seemingly within reason.

"I lied to you."

Sheen stared at it with a look of surprise that said, "You really believed that?"

"Annoying—that's Ravenclaw who holds grudges—"

The Sorting Hat bounced erratically, seemingly trying to escape from Sheen's grasp, but it was clearly futile.

"You've learned to lie! Oh no, you haven't lied!"

The Sorting Hat uttered a question in a strange, melodic voice.

Just then, Bai Yi flew in from the edge of the window.

Sheen was not lying; it was not he who wanted to use the Sorting Hat to build a nest, but Bai Yi.

"Let it go! I should be on the little wizard's head, not in this stinky bird's nest—"

The Sorting Hat's mouth was stretched wide open. On its head, Whitey flapped its wings and occasionally touched the Sorting Hat with its paws, like a cat playing with a mouse.

"I have a moral obligation to give you the appropriate warning, and I never make a mistake, not even with the most difficult-to-distinguish wizards."

Oh, I must tell you—some Ravenclaws fail all their exams, some Hufflepuffs are lazy but have exceptional academic talent, and some Gryffindors show signs of timidity and cowardice…

But that doesn't matter, yes, it doesn't matter. What truly reveals us is our choices, and choices are far more important than our abilities.

Do not doubt it, I am the most intelligent magical artifact in the magical world, the wisdom of the four great masters gleams on my hat brim—”

The Sorting Hat kept talking, trying to prove itself.

“Minerva McGonagall and Felix Flitwick, those two really gave me a lot of trouble back then. They still happily imagine that if it weren't for these crucial moments when they were young, their positions would have been reversed, with Minerva becoming the Head of Ravenclaw and Professor Flitwick becoming the Head of Gryffindor.”

But guess what? That's impossible! How drastically different they are now—"

The Sorting Hat let out a strange cry; the sound was soft, yet it sounded jarring and clear to Sheen, as if it came from his own heart.

Capture the spirit and seize thoughts.

Sheen knew why things were this way.

“I can tell you the secrets of ten centuries, but if I’m going to make the old hat admit it misjudged, I’d rather turn it into a bird’s nest.”

The Sorting Hat kept talking.

"Mr. Sorting Hat, the secret of ten centuries?"

Sheen asked, seemingly with a realization.

"Of course, of course, the crown of extraordinary wisdom, the golden cup brimming with sincerity, the sword summoned by courage—"

The folds of the sorting hat formed eye-like shapes, which were now beaming with delight.

“I can tell you about what has been, what has disappeared, what has survived… but guess what? When you need it, Hogwarts will help you. In this castle, those who need help will eventually get help.”

Those who need help will eventually receive it...

Sheen's gaze was as calm as a deep lake, with a thin mist floating on it.

"Okay, come on, hold me, I know what you want—"

Old Mao's weak, hoarse voice rang out once again.

Sheen walked over thoughtfully and took the Sorting Hat from White's paw.

Moonlight streamed into the principal's office, making the silverware and Sheen's eyes gleam. The hat tightened, as if an unseen hand was desperately clenching it; Sheen felt as if he were holding onto something long and hard.

"Of course! Of course! You will succeed! You are Gryffindor's most admired Ravenclaw—"

The old man let out an excited, strange cry.

"But not now—"

Its strange cry disappeared immediately. Sheen frowned, took his hand out of his hat, and found his palm empty.

"Do you remember what Old Hat said? Hogwarts will always help those who deserve it, and the Gryffindor sword will appear when a true hero needs it. Come find Old Hat again when you are ready to complete the mission recognized by Gryffindor."

……

Sheen ultimately failed to obtain the Sword of Gryffindor, but he didn't seem to be shut out by it. He knew clearly that he had it in his grasp, but why couldn't he take it out...

Yes, is the timing wrong?
Night quickly slipped away, and a thin layer of mist rose from the pink and pale gold sky.

The sky above the auditorium was a gray, overcast day. On the long tables of the four colleges, there were bowls of porridge, plates of pickled herring, piles of bread slices, and dishes of eggs and salted meat.

Neither Justin nor Hermione smiled all morning. They would glance at Sheehan every now and then, then pretend not to care and start eating their porridge.

"Sheen, is your Animagus complete?"

Finally, Justin couldn't help but ask a question in a low voice.

Right now, Sheen is still analyzing the peephole-like thing; he's preparing to make a pair of glasses that refract light multiple times.

"Ah."

Sheen responded with a wave of his wand, and the peephole-like object was magically disassembled. Each part of it floated in the air, awaiting Sheen's observation.

"Oh, what a pity, I mean, it was fantastic—"

Hermione closed "Sailing with the Vampires" and couldn't help but sigh with regret, but quickly changed her mind after Justin reminded her.

Sheen glanced at them, puzzled, then went to examine the mirror.

"Can we see your Animagus..."

As Justin spoke, hundreds of owls swarmed in, circling the auditorium and dropping letters and packages into the conversationing crowd.

A bulging, large package fell on Neville's head, followed by a large, grayish creature that fell into Hermione's jug, splashing milk and feathers all over them.

"Errol!"

Ron shouted from the side, grabbing the wet owl by its claws and pulling it out.

Errol was slumped on the table, his legs dangling in the air, a wet red envelope dangling from his mouth.

"It's a Roaring Letter, this is bad."

Ron's face fell.

“You’d better open it, Ron,”

Neville whispered.
"It's worse not to open it. My grandma sent me one once, but I ignored it, and then—"

He took a breath.
"terrible."

The four corners of the envelope were already smoking. Ron reached out with trembling hands, carefully took the envelope out of Errol's mouth, and tore it open.

Justin and Hermione were both curious about what the Howl Letter was, but then they saw Neville cover his ears with his hands, and they soon found out why he did so.

At first, they even thought it was an explosion, because the huge noise filled the entire auditorium and shook the dust off the ceiling.

"Ron Weasley!"

(End of this chapter)