At that moment, Professor McGonagall stepped forward, holding a scroll of parchment in her hand.
"When I call your name," she said, "please come forward, put on the hat, and take a seat for your sorting." She looked at the list. "Hannah Abbott!"
A rosy-cheeked girl with two neat golden braids stumbled out of line, plopped the Sorting Hat on her head—it covered her eyes completely—and sat down. There was a pause—
"Hufflepuff!" the hat declared.
A table on the right erupted into cheers and clapping, welcoming Hannah with open arms. Harry noticed the Fat Friar waving at her enthusiastically.
"Susan Bones!"
Susan glanced back at Wang Yong before walking up to the Sorting Hat.
"Hufflepuff!" the hat announced again. Susan quickly skipped over to Hannah's side, a radiant smile on her face as she looked back at Wang Yong, who was still waiting.
More students were sorted into various houses after that.
"Hermione Granger!"
Hermione practically ran to the stool and jammed the hat onto her head.
"Gryffindor!" it shouted.
"Wang Yong!"
Wang Yong felt a flicker of nervousness. He approached the four-legged stool, placed the Sorting Hat on his head, and before he could say a word—
"Ravenclaw!" the hat bellowed.
Wang Yong gave a wry smile as he made his way to the second table on the left. That was fast. He'd planned to have a good chat with the hat, maybe even debate a bit. Something he'd once agonized over for days was now settled in mere seconds.
"Ravenclaw," literally "the claw of a raven," subtly implies a cunning predator with a thirst for knowledge. Fitting, Wang Yong thought. A clever, ambitious scavenger—he liked the sound of that. It aligned well with how he saw himself: a cut above, keen-minded.
The Ravenclaw table offered a polite round of applause. The prefect, Penelope, even stood up to shake his hand. Wang Yong was caught off guard by the gesture. Then senior student Zhang Qiu—smiling sweetly—gripped his hand in mock solemnity and even pulled him in for a hug. Blushing from the unexpected contact, Wang Yong reminded himself that he still wore the adorable face of a young boy—his current "number one cutie" status.
Aside from Zhang Qiu, Wang Yong was probably the only other Chinese student at Hogwarts.
He turned to look behind him and saw Susan pouting with teary eyes, staring at him with a hint of sadness. He winked at her in return, trying to comfort her.
Historically, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff had always been on good terms. The houses had strong inter-house friendships, and while they didn't always share a common room, they often attended classes together.
The rest of the Sorting proceeded as expected, though Harry Potter's turn drew the entire hall's attention. It was only after arriving in the wizarding world that Wang Yong truly felt the immense influence Harry held.
Now that the sorting was over, Wang Yong finally had time to glance toward the teachers' table. At the center of the head table sat Albus Dumbledore, atop a grand golden chair. His silver hair shimmered like that of the ghosts.
Wang Yong spotted other familiar faces: the dour Snape, the tiny Professor Flitwick, the turban-wrapped Quirrell, and the round Professor Sprout. It was surreal, seeing characters he'd only read about now seated right before him.
He scanned the Ravenclaw table again—so many beautiful girls, all uniquely charming. No wonder it was rumored to be the "House of Beauties." At least life here wouldn't be boring. The boys… well, he ignored them. Ravenclaw's male students weren't exactly famous—mostly background characters not worth noting.
Albus Dumbledore rose to his feet. Beaming, he stretched out his arms as if nothing delighted him more than seeing the students gathered together.
"Welcome!" he said. "Welcome to another year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our feast, I have a few words to say. And they are: 'Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!' Thank you!"
He sat back down, and the hall burst into laughter and applause.
According to Latin, these nonsensical words loosely meant "May Merlin bless you." Of course, Wang Yong had read that somewhere else. Learning magic was no simple feat—Latin was a core requirement, much like Classical Chinese in East Asian traditions. There was also Ancient Magical Script, the key to understanding old magic.
"Calm down, calm down," Wang Yong muttered, patting his forehead. He shoved those thoughts aside. There's plenty of time for all that.
By then, the long tables were already piled high with food: roast beef, roast chicken, pork chops, lamb chops, sausages, steaks, boiled potatoes, roast potatoes, crisps, Yorkshire pudding, pea sprouts, carrots, gravy, ketchup—even mint humbugs.
Looking at the abundance before him, Wang Yong couldn't help but grin. No more need to pine for that foreign-exchange student goddess back home.
He stuffed himself as he listened to the excited chatter of the other first-years. Occasionally, he chimed in, though his situation was a bit awkward—unlike the others, he didn't exactly have a Hogwarts-compatible family background. So he stayed quiet, mostly playing the part of the "invisible boy."
After dessert, Professor Dumbledore stood up once more. The hall quickly fell silent.
"Ah, now that we're all fed and watered, I have a few start-of-term notices to share," he said.
"First-years should note that the forest on the school grounds is strictly forbidden to all students. Some of our older students might need reminding of that as well."
"Also, Mr. Filch, the caretaker, has asked me to remind everyone that magic is not to be used in the corridors between classes."
"Tryouts for the house Quidditch teams will be held in the second week of term. Interested students should contact Madam Hooch."
"And finally, anyone who does not wish to meet with a sudden, painful, and untimely death should avoid the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side."
Wang Yong smirked. What is this, playing dumb for Voldemort? Of course, there wasn't necessarily a clear connection between Hagrid's injury and the theft of the Philosopher's Stone—most people wouldn't suspect anything. But still… Voldemort creating an extra Horcrux really did seem to have lowered his IQ.
"And now, before we all head to bed, let us sing the school song!" Dumbledore declared cheerfully.
He gave his wand a light flick. A long golden ribbon flew out, twirling like a snake above the high table and forming lines of glowing text.
"Everyone pick their own favorite tune," said Dumbledore. "Ready—sing!"
And so, the entire hall broke into song:
Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hogwarts,
Teach us something please,
Whether we be old and bald
Or young with scabby knees,
Our minds are empty vessels
Filled with air and flies and fluff,
Teach us things worth knowing,
Bring back what we've forgot.
Do your best, we'll do the rest,
And learn until our brains are rot.
They finished the song in a disjointed medley of clashing tunes.
Wang Yong hummed along, a few beats behind the rest.