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"I seriously think that quill might be broken… but it can't be wrong. It's something even older than me."
The Sorting Hat spoke out of nowhere.
If it could show human expressions, it would probably look like an old man staring at a phone in confusion on the subway.
"Whether it's right or not doesn't matter. At least I'm here."
Dudley replied, keeping his mind as calm as still water.
"That makes sense."
The Sorting Hat nodded.
"So, which house will I be sorted into? Hufflepuff?"
Dudley had already prepared himself mentally.
"Just hurry up and put me in Hufflepuff… I'm already hungry."
The Hat fell silent for a moment, as if it had discovered something.
"I take that back. In fact, you have ambition, ability, ideas… and you like to prepare thoroughly before taking action. What was that phrase again? Ah, yes—prevent problems before they happen. You really remind me of that person…"
"Can you see my thoughts?"
A faint ripple stirred in Dudley's heart.
Before stepping forward, he had already gone through five rounds of "enhanced meditation" to strengthen his mental resistance.
"No. I can only sense your traits."
The Sorting Hat replied.
"Traits?"
Countless possibilities flashed through Dudley's mind.
"Yes—wait, wait—stop for a moment! Your thoughts are pure chaos! Too messy! You're giving me a headache. You're completely different from those simple-minded young wizards."
Indeed, Dudley's mind was nothing like that of an ordinary young wizard.
"Sorting Hat, and you still claim you can't read minds?"
The Hat tried to defend itself.
"I'm just a hat. There's no need to argue about that with me."
"Normally, I should respect the wishes of young wizards like you. But my consciousness was formed from the thoughts of the four founders of this school…"
As it spoke, the Hat's tone changed.
Its voice became slower, deeper.
It was still the same Sorting Hat…
but it felt like a completely different one.
Maybe it wasn't just an illusion.
Or perhaps… multiple consciousnesses?
"You really are like that person."
The Hat repeated.
"Strong-willed… dismissive of rules… of course, if you could just stop those chaotic thoughts in your head! Now! Immediately! I'm going to burst!"
The first half still carried a mysterious tone.
The second half, however, was clearly desperate.
Dudley didn't like others prying into his thoughts—even if it was just a hat.
So he began running through everything he had learned over the years.
From the Pythagorean theorem to calculus.
Even… biological differences between men and women.
"d/dx(sin x) = cos x, cos x = -sin x, tan x = sec²x…"
"When multiple particles interact, their individual properties merge into a unified whole that can no longer be described separately…"
Seeing that Dudley had no intention of stopping, the Sorting Hat finally gave in.
"Alright, alright! I'll stop looking!"
That chaotic flood of knowledge had almost swallowed its consciousness whole.
It swore.
In a thousand years, it had never encountered a young wizard like this.
Where on earth had he learned all of this?
By now, quite some time had passed since Dudley put on the Hat.
Even though most people's attention was on Harry, as time went on, they began to notice something strange.
Dudley had been wearing the Sorting Hat for far too long.
Even longer than Harry.
"Perhaps before coming here, you heard many unpleasant things about that place… but sometimes, what you hear from others isn't the truth. A thousand years is enough to distort many things. I hope you can see beyond appearances."
Suddenly, the Hat shouted loudly:
"Then… SLYTHERIN!"
At almost the exact same moment the Hat made its announcement, a system notification rang in Dudley's ear.
"Mission completed: Join Slytherin House.
Reward: Data Magic Eyes LV0."
Before Dudley could check his reward, the Hat spoke again:
"Salazar's will hopes that you can straighten that place out. The current Slytherin… is nothing but a complete mess. Like a cesspit."
For the first time, Dudley's expression changed.
Salazar.
Salazar Slytherin—the founder of Slytherin House.
Slytherin himself wanted him to fix the house?
It sounded absurd at first.
But thinking about it carefully… it made sense.
The Sorting Hat was created from the consciousness of the four founders.
If magical portraits could converse after death…
Then a hat carrying their consciousness wasn't that strange.
It wasn't scientific.
But it was magic.
"Then…"
A bold idea flashed through Dudley's mind.
Before he could pursue it, the Hat interrupted:
"Hey! I'm just a hat! An ordinary magical hat! I only have their thoughts from back then—not their knowledge!"
"What a pity…"
Dudley showed a rare hint of disappointment.
Then he suddenly remembered something.
Slytherin had split from Gryffindor over student admissions.
He opposed admitting Muggle-borns.
And Dudley…
Was exactly that.
A true Muggle-born wizard.
"Slytherin is Slytherin. I am me. I carry his will… but I am not him."
It made sense.
In a way.
Well… magic.
"Now go to the Slytherin table. Immediately!"
A large hand suddenly came down from above and pulled the Sorting Hat off Dudley's head, interrupting the conversation.
A man with black hair, black robes, and a cold expression spoke to him icily.
Notably—
His shoulder-length black hair looked greasy.
Dudley had taken too long.
And the Head of Slytherin had clearly run out of patience.
Snape tugged Dudley hard.
But he didn't budge.
Snape's lips moved slightly.
He was about to deliver something venomous…
But seemed to remember something.
And changed what he was going to say.
"Are you just going to stand there? Do I need to personally invite you, Mr. Dursley?"
A suppressed wave of laughter rose around them.
It came from the Gryffindor table.
Whenever someone from Slytherin was embarrassed, they were delighted.
Some of them found it slightly strange…
Professor Snape seemed less sharp-tongued than usual today.
But the thought quickly faded.
After all, he was known for favoring his own house.
Normally, when a student was sorted into a house, they would receive applause.
Even if not like Harry.
But Dudley…
Received nothing.
No applause.
No words of welcome.
Even the seats around him were left empty.
The rejection was clear.
And unmistakable.
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