"If I were a wizard, I think I ought to send you straight to Azkaban. Believe me, child, Azkaban is where you are destined to end up."
The Sorting Hat did not sound as though it were joking.
"But I am only a hat, after all. Godric Gryffindor told me that every student deserves to be cherished."
The Sorting Hat fell silent for a moment, then its voice sounded again beside Altair's ear.
"I think you will achieve great things in Slytherin. Perhaps by the time people want to send you to Azkaban, they will no longer be capable of doing so."
The Sorting Hat had made its decision.
Then its voice rang out through the entire Great Hall.
"SLYTHERIN!"
Cheers erupted.
Altair calmly removed the Sorting Hat and set it down. At the very last moment, he had used the One Ring to subtly influence it, so the Hat would not tell Dumbledore and the others the full truth about him.
Altair stepped away from the stool.
He saw a trace of disappointment in Professor McGonagall's eyes, but even more than that, worry.
Hermione, meanwhile, looked distinctly upset. Her lips were pursed, and she wore a rather unhappy expression. Clearly, she was sad that the two of them had not ended up in the same House.
Altair walked to the Slytherin table and took a seat. A few older boys and girls came over to greet him.
Draco leaned in beside Altair and said, "My name is Draco Malfoy. You should have heard my name before. At the very least, you should know the Malfoys. Your name is Shelby, right? I don't recall any wizarding family by that name."
"I'm Muggle-born. And as for this Malfoy you mentioned... sorry, never heard of it."
Altair looked at Draco without giving him any kind expression.
This boy was full of pure-blood supremacy nonsense and deeply prejudiced against Muggles and half-bloods. That was not something likely to change, so there was no reason for Altair to treat him warmly.
Draco's face darkened, but remembering that this was the Great Hall, he did not dare do anything. He merely gave a cold snort.
Altair ignored him.
If Draco tried applying that pure-blood-above-all rubbish to him, then Altair did not mind showing him exactly what Shelby meant.
The Shelby family had fought its way up from nothing to where it stood now with razors and bullets. Their road had been paved with the blood of their enemies, and their glory forged from enemy bones. Altair looked as though he were paying attention to the Sorting Ceremony, but in truth, his mind was focused on the System.
"Ding! Host has successfully entered Slytherin and completed the current main quest. Reward: 100 Story Points."
"Main quest updated!"
Current Quest: Rising to Fame
Quest Objective: The Dark Lord's fame shall begin in Slytherin. This term, earn at least 150 points for Slytherin and secure victory in the House Cup!
Quest Reward: Gandalf's Spell Notes, 1500 Story Points.
Note: When the quest is settled, the Host will receive 10 Story Points for every 1 point earned for Slytherin. If 150 points are not reached, the quest fails and no reward is granted!
"So that means if I can earn 1,000 points, I can directly get 10,000 Story Points?"
Altair thought it over and decided that was probably impossible.
Even if he killed Voldemort, Dumbledore still would not award him a thousand points.
"And according to the original plot, Gryffindor wins the House Cup this year. When the final reckoning comes, Dumbledore will definitely find some excuse to give Gryffindor extra points. I'll need to find a way to make Harry and Ron lose a few more."
"I need to turn Gryffindor into Gryffin-less."
Altair cast a sympathetic glance toward Harry and the others, then looked at Hermione and felt slightly guilty.
Sorry, dear Hermione.
He only hoped that Hermione, who would no doubt work hard to earn points in the end, would not cry over it.
The Sorting Ceremony ended quickly.
Lavender Brown, the girl who had shared the boat with them, also went to Gryffindor. She was one of the few girls sorted there, which meant she was probably going to be Hermione's dormmate.
Only then did Altair suddenly remember who that slightly familiar little witch was.
She was Ron's future ex-girlfriend.
Hermione had even gotten jealous because of her.
Altair glanced at Hermione and saw that she was staring straight at him, lips pressed together, looking somewhat aggrieved.
Altair smiled faintly and blinked at her.
Hermione puffed out her cheeks, dropped her head onto the table, and turned her face away.
To be honest, Altair did not remember becoming so close to Hermione that she would react this strongly. After thinking it over, the most likely reason was simply that they had spent time together on the train, and Hogwarts was still a strange and unfamiliar place to her.
And most people, when placed somewhere unfamiliar, instinctively wanted to stay close to someone they already knew.
After the Sorting Ceremony, Dumbledore gave the new students a long list of reminders and warnings, going on and on before finally clapping his hands.
At once, the plates on all four House tables filled to the brim with food.
"Let the feast begin!"
Altair wiped his hands with a napkin, elegantly took a steak, and began eating at an unhurried pace.
Hermione watched him from across the tables, still looking rather unhappy, but she had been hungry all afternoon, so in the end she picked up a cream pudding.
Beside her, Ron had a chicken leg in each hand and was stuffing his face, grease all over his mouth as he chewed noisily.
Hermione frowned as she looked at him, then looked again at Altair, who was neatly cutting his steak with calm elegance. Finally, she let out a helpless sigh.
"I want to be in Slytherin!!"