The doors to the Great Hall slowly swung open, and golden light poured out like a tide.
Four long tables were laden with glittering golden plates and goblets, while thousands of candles floated in mid-air. The ceiling mirrored the starry night sky above, looking deep and mysterious.
"It's bewitched to look like the sky outside," Hermione whispered, reciting from memory behind him. "I read about it in Hogwarts: A History."
"No, that is an illusion spell," Rove countered in a hushed tone, his gaze fixed dead center on the chair in the middle of the staff table. "Used to conceal the fact that the roof leaks, or perhaps to monitor us."
In front of the staff table stood a four-legged stool. On top of the stool sat a pointed wizard's hat. It was battered, patched, and looked extremely dirty, like something scavenged from a rubbish heap.
Suddenly, a rip near the brim opened wide like a mouth, and the hat began to sing loudly:
"You may not think I'm pretty,
But don't judge on what you see..."
Thunderous applause filled the hall.
But Rove's face went deathly pale instantly.
> [WARNING! High-Risk Psionic Artifact Detected!]
> [Target: Sorting Hat -> Possessed Vessel of a Palantír]
> [Danger Level: S (Mind Penetration)]
> [Description: It sings, but the song is merely a prelude to mind control. It can pry into your brain, excavate your deepest fears, and then assign you to the "prison cell" it deems appropriate.]
"It... it's alive?" Harry asked in amazement.
"It is a terminal connected to the Eye of Sauron." Rove gritted his teeth, his fingers trembling. "Once you put it on, your thoughts are no longer your own. It sees everything—your weaknesses, your desires, and the secret stash of money you hid under your bed."
Ron gasped and covered his pocket. "Can it see Scabbers?"
"It can see what Scabbers stole for dinner last night," Rove said coldly.
Just then, Professor McGonagall stepped forward holding a scroll of parchment.
"Hannah Abbott!"
A girl with blonde pigtails stumbled up, put on the hat, and a moment later, the hat shouted: "HUFFLEPUFF!"
Applause rang out.
"Hufflepuff." Rove narrowed his eyes, rapidly analyzing the situation.
> [Faction Analysis: Hufflepuff]
> [Mapping: The Shire]
> [Traits: Love of food, Peace, Resilience, and Unassuming nature]
> [Survival Rating: Five Stars (The Perfect Hideout)]
"Susan Bones!"
Susan glanced nervously at Rove, then walked up.
"HUFFLEPUFF!"
Susan let out a sigh of relief and ran toward the cheering table, grabbing a bread roll before she even sat down.
"It seems the Shire's provisions are plentiful," Rove murmured to himself.
Next was Harry.
"Harry Potter!"
The hall suddenly went silent. Everyone craned their necks to get a good look at the Savior.
Harry walked up and put on the hat. After a long while—what felt like a century to Rove—the hat finally shouted: "GRYFFINDOR!"
The table furthest away erupted in thunderous cheers.
> [System Notification: The Ring-Bearer has joined the Gondor Vanguard. Risk Level increased.]
Rove sighed. It seemed Harry was destined to stand at the forefront of the storm.
"Rove Baggins!"
Professor McGonagall's voice echoed through the hall.
Rove took a deep breath and walked toward the stool with heavy steps, as if marching to his doom.
> [Initiating Emergency Mental Defense Protocol: The Glutton's Feast]
> [Loading Assets: Braised Pork Belly, Roast Lamb, Crispy Pork, Spicy Crawfish...]
He reached the stool and stared at the dirty hat, hesitating to touch it.
"Put it on, Mr. Baggins," McGonagall urged, her eyes stern.
"Can I not put it on all the way?" Rove asked tentatively. "I have a germ phobia, and I really don't want my bank account password read."
"Stop being ridiculous." McGonagall glared at him.
Resigned, Rove used two fingers to pinch the very tip of the hat and gingerly placed it on his head, minimizing the contact area as if balancing a landmine that could explode at any moment.
The instant the brim touched his hair, a small voice echoed in his mind.
"Hmm, interesting."
Rove's brain instantly exploded into chaos.
BRAISED PORK! EXTRA SUGAR! REDUCE THE SAUCE UNTIL THICK!
ROAST CHICKEN! CRISPY SKIN! NEW ORLEANS STYLE!
HOT POT! DIP THE TRIPE SEVEN TIMES UP AND EIGHT TIMES DOWN!
"Good heavens." The voice seemed choked by the overwhelming barrage of food imagery. "Your brain is full of greasy food? Have you not eaten for three days?"
NO! I AM NOT HUNGRY! I AM SIMPLY CONTEMPLATING THE ULTIMATE TRUTH OF THE UNIVERSE—SWEET TOFU PUDDING OR SALTY TOFU PUDDING!
Rove roared internally, trying to drown out the intrusion with spam information.
"Alright, alright," the Hat seemed unable to handle it. "Although your mind is filled with... wait, Orc cooking recipes? Merlin's beard, you want to serve Troll Sashimi? Your courage is actually greater than a Gryffindor's."
THAT IS A TACTIC! TACTICAL DETERRENCE!
"But beneath this layer of madness," the Hat's voice turned serious, "I see loyalty. You are willing to draw your sword to protect your companions, even against gods. You crave peace, yet are forced to take up arms. You are a contradiction, child."
"Most importantly," the Hat seemed to sniff, "your love for food is sincere."
"Well then, this is simple."
The Hat opened its wide mouth and shouted the name to the entire hall:
"HUFFLEPUFF!"
Rove ripped the hat off and threw it back onto the stool with lightning speed.
> [Quest Complete: Join a Faction]
> [Faction Confirmed: Hufflepuff (The Shire)]
> [Reward Acquired: Skill - Hobbit's Culinary Talent]
> [Skill Description: Your speed in processing ingredients increases by 200%. Deliciousness of cooked food +50%. Passive Effect: You now need to eat seven meals a day.]
"Phew..." Rove wiped the cold sweat from his forehead. "I held the line. It didn't get my PIN code."
He walked down amidst the applause of the Hufflepuff table and plopped down next to Susan.
"You made it!" Susan happily made room for him. "I knew you'd be here. What did the Hat say to you? You looked like you were going to throw up."
"It tried to invade my soul," Rove said, picking up an empty plate with a grave expression. "But I fought it back with a Manchu-Han Imperial Feast."
"Manchu... Han... Feast?" Susan blinked in confusion.
"An Eastern mental defense technique," Rove lied smoothly.
Just then, a boy sitting opposite him extended a hand. "Hello, I'm Cedric. Cedric Diggory. Welcome to Hufflepuff."
Rove looked up.
The boy before him was handsome and sunny, with a smile as warm as May sunshine.
> [Biological Scan]
> [Target: Cedric Diggory]
> [Mapping: Faramir]
> [Traits: Noble, Brave, The Unfavored Second Son (Not really), Tragic Hero Aura]
> [Evaluation: A true knight. What a pity...]
Rove shook his hand, his eyes filled with a trace of tragic solemnity.
"Hello, Fara—I mean, Cedric." Rove said seriously. "I am Rove. Take a piece of advice from me, brother."
"What is it?" Cedric kept smiling.
"If anyone ever invites you to a graveyard, or asks you to touch a trophy," Rove lowered his voice, "do not go. Absolutely do not go."
Cedric was stunned for a moment, then laughed. "Alright, I'll remember that. Even though it sounds a bit odd."
At this moment, Dumbledore stood up at the staff table.
"Welcome!" he said. "Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!"
The hall cheered.
Rove, however, frantically pulled a small notebook from his robes and began scribbling furiously.
"Those are incantations!" Rove said to Susan as he wrote. "Those are the True Words of the Valar! Every word contains the power to destroy the world! Write them down, quick! This might be on the final exam!"
Susan looked at him, then at the cheering students around them. She sighed silently and stuffed a pumpkin pasty into Rove's mouth.
"Eat, Mr. Ranger. Your battle is over."
Rove chewed.
"Mmm, not bad. Would be better with a little cumin."