Hogwarts Wasteland: The Witch from the Borderlands

"If you ask me, this stupid Sorting Ceremony is completely meaningless." A well-dressed boy with platinum hair said in a low voice, then deliberately amplified it. Hermione could tell from his expression that he was Professor Malfoy's son. She hadn't expected them to be in the same year.

He looked around, glancing at the dazed Hermione.

"My dad said that decades ago, there were dozens of new students enrolling each year, sometimes even hundreds. That's why there was a need for colleges to be divided into departments," he boasted, showing off his knowledge.

"Now we only get a dozen or so new students a year at most, and each house can only get a few," he said, gesturing confidently. "My dad said that one year, Ravenclaw didn't even have a single new student!"

The Muggle kids around them responded with an "Oh!" even though they had no idea what Ravenclaw was.

The noise startled Professor Malfoy: "Draco! Shut up!" He glanced at the children: "Does being flattered by these Muggles make you feel good, given how I raised you at home?"

The Malfoy cub named Draco pouted and muttered, "If you ask me, they should just have two houses, separating purebloods from Muggles!"

The other child couldn't help but laugh when he saw Draco's discomfiture.

He was a young man with dark brown hair and beautiful blue-green eyes. He was also dressed neatly, and it was clear that he was also the child of a wizard.

"Harry Potter! I know you!" Draco looked at him with a disgruntled expression.

"Perhaps your potions professor mother fed you too many potions, causing you to lose your proper manners!" He said arrogantly. "My father is the Headmaster of Slytherin!"

"So you little snake must have eaten a lot of dead rats, right?" A red-haired boy immediately chimed in, eliciting laughter from Harry Potter and the other wizard children.

Hermione observed all of this: "The internal conflicts within wizarding families are particularly pronounced."

Draco was furious and wanted to take action, but the circumstances clearly did not allow it.

At this point, Lucius finally finished his long speech: "The four houses, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, Gryffindor, and proud Slytherin, each have their merits. Good luck to you all."

The door was pushed open from the inside, and a neatly dressed Professor McGonagall poked her head out, gesturing for Lucius to bring the children in.

People lined up and filed in in an orderly fashion. Hundreds of candles floated in the warm hall, and the ceiling was a dazzling starry sky, but Hermione could tell it was fake because the real sky was only covered with thick, dark clouds.

A few students, about one or two hundred in total, sat sparsely at the four long tables. They were all wearing the same black robes, distinguished only by different colors at the collar and other parts.

At the end of the long table was a row of tables with high-backed chairs. After Lucius brought his men in, he went there and sat down on his own.

But what struck Hermès as odd was that the tallest chair in the very center was empty; only a large red bird stood on its back, looking listless and seemingly lacking energy.

In the open space in the middle of the Great Hall, next to Professor McGonagall was a stool with a worn-out wizard's hat on it.

"Come forward when I call your name."

"Hannah Abbott!"

……

The sorting by hat was a novel experience for Hermione. The previous children didn't spend much time on the hat, and it was her turn soon.

"Hermione Granger!"

"Mudblood!" she heard a child behind her say maliciously, probably one of Draco's pureblood children.

She quickly stepped forward and sat down. Professor McGonagall gave her an encouraging look and put the hat on her head.

"Ah~ a little girl." The hat's voice echoed in my mind.

"How will he sort us into houses? Will he be able to read minds?" Hermione wondered to herself.

"It's not Legilimency, child. The founders don't allow me to have that ability," the Hat continued. "In fact, I can only see the different qualities in you and sort you into houses based on those qualities."

"If you don't read minds, how do you know I suspect you're mind-reading?" Hermione bluntly exposed.

"Alright, alright, it's just some superficial awareness testing. What a clever little girl," the Sorting Hat chuckled awkwardly.

"Then how about Ravenclaw? They'll like a sharp kid like you."

"Actually, I prefer snakes," Hermione thought to herself.

"Stop joking, little girl. It's no fun testing an old hat." The Sorting Hat seemed quite willing to chat with her more.

"You're smart, enjoy being part of a group, and have amazing courage, but you lack the ambition to drive you forward. Oh, you're so mature for your age," the Sorting Hat grumbled.

"Yes, that's right." Hermione's eyes were a little unfocused. She had only become the Finger Witch passively, passively learned all the knowledge that the Faded Ones might use, and passively helped others become the King of Elden.

Perhaps her initial intention was simply to save her already broken little family; she never considered becoming someone like Queen Marika.

"Then go to Gryffindor," the hat said. "I can see the courage buried deep within you, which is more important than your clever little brain. Unleash it and find your purpose in life."

The hat finished its mind-reading and shouted in a loud voice, "Gryffindor!"

She saw Professor McGonagall cast an approving glance at her, and applause erupted at the long table with red collars as they welcomed the new student.

Hermione pondered the Sorting Hat's words and found a seat at the rather empty Gryphon Headmaster's table. Before long, a dozen or so new students had completed their sorting. Harry Potter with his blue-green eyes and that sharp-tongued red-haired boy both sat down. This year's sorting was very balanced, with each house receiving roughly the same number of children.

At that moment, the large red bird flew up from the back of the chair and landed on the podium.

"I am Dumbledore, the headmaster of Hogwarts!" the great bird proclaimed in a hoarse human voice.

"Our headmaster is a bird!?" Hermione asked, turning her head, unable to hide her astonishment.

“No, that’s the headmaster’s phoenix,” Harry explained. “Headmaster Dumbledore is the greatest white wizard alive. There are so many things in this world that require his attention, so he usually attends through his pet phoenix.”

"I heard the Fiendfire in old Paris has reignited, killing over a dozen wizards, both black and white, and it's impossible to contain. I guess Dumbledore's gone to deal with that," the red-haired boy said. Hermione had heard him call Ron earlier; Ron Weasley.

"But my dad said that the Saints over there are having headaches, while the situation in the Scottish Highlands is more worthy of Dumbledore's attention, after all, that's the original site of Hogwarts," Harry said.

He turned to Hermione and smiled, "Ron and I both have parents who are members of the Order of the Phoenix, so we know more about it."

It's clear that they received a good upbringing and do not discriminate against "Muggle people".

"It's a new year again, and I'm delighted that more than a dozen young wizards have arrived at Hogwarts." The old man's voice rang out steadily as the phoenix's beak opened and closed.

"Before the new school year begins, I need to emphasize a few things." Big Bird paused for a moment.

"The corridor on the right-hand side of the fourth floor is a restricted area. Anyone who doesn't want to lose their life should stay away!"

"The wand selection for new students will be held the day after tomorrow. Before that, the deans of each house will conduct preliminary training." After the big bird finished speaking, it flew back to the high-backed chair with a whoosh, and suddenly a luxurious meal appeared in front of everyone.

"That's it! A wand. I don't have one yet, so I don't know how to choose one." Hermione thought to herself, but her hands didn't slow down. She tore off a fat rat leg, which was half the size of Hermione's body. She carefully brushed it with honey and baking seasoning, and it smelled delicious.

Forty years after the war, eating rats and cockroaches was the easiest way to obtain meat, and those who resisted it starved to death.