Ron doesn't care much about the sorting now.
After all, he's no longer the newbie Gryffindor, overwhelmed by the team glory during his first year. He's now a seasoned old hand.
As long as his scores aren't affected, it doesn't really matter much.
They followed the hallway, heading into the Great Hall of Hogwarts.
At the beginning of the school year, everyone gathers in the hall to participate in a major event that has been held since the founding of Hogwarts—the Sorting Ceremony.
The hall remained as splendid as ever, with extra decorations for the new academic year's feast.
Hundreds of candles floated in the air above the tables, illuminating the golden plates and goblets gleaming brightly.
The four long house tables were already filled with chattering students, shaking out their wet hair while sharing stories of their holiday adventures with those around them.
From their snippets of conversation, it seemed they were still caught up in the excitement of the World Cup.
It's understandable, considering that this Quidditch World Cup final was full of excitement, and it isn't common for someone to catch the Golden Snitch first and still lose the match.
At the end of the hall, there's a fifth table where the staff sat, facing their students.
Harry and the others passed by the students from Slytherin, Ravenclaw, and Hufflepuff, while Cassandra herself proceeded to the Slytherin table.
Then, Harry and his friends joined the other Gryffindor students at the table at the far end of the hall.
It's much warmer here, perhaps due to the proximity to the fireplace, or for some other reason.
Beside them was the Gryffindor ghost, Nearly Headless Nick.
Nick was fully translucent with a pearly white hue. Tonight he wore his usual tight jacket but donned an especially large ruffled collar.
He wore this ruffled collar for two purposes: to appear more festive and to ensure his head wouldn't wobble excessively on the half-cut neck.
"Good evening," he smiled at them.
"Good evening, Sir Nicholas," Harry greeted him. "You seem to be in quite a good mood tonight?"
"Welcoming new students is certainly a joyous occasion," Nearly Headless Nick replied, laughing heartily as he floated away.
"I really doubt what he said," Ron whispered to Harry and Hermione. "I bet he's not excited about welcoming the new students but about his creepy hobby—scaring them, right?"
"That's not very polite to say," Harry whispered back.
"I was almost scared in my first year," Ron shrugged, glancing at Hermione. "What about you? Were you frightened by the ghosts in your first year?"
"Not really," Hermione replied ambiguously.
By this time, the professors' seats were gradually filled up.
All the house heads except Professor McGonagall, who needed to sort the new students, had taken their seats promptly.
Harry spotted Snape at first glance, as Snape stands out like a firefly in the dark night.
It seemed Snape still didn't pay much attention to his personal image management, even though Lily had commented on it; he still had that greasy-haired look.
His clothing preferences didn't change either, always wearing that perpetual black cloak, with black as his protective color.
"When's dinner starting?" Ron muttered, "I'm starving—if I went back to Romania with Charlie, I reckon I could eat an entire Hungarian Tree Bee."
The Hungarian Tree Bee is a type of Fire Dragon, and it's clear that Ron was truly starving.
"That depends on when the Sorting Ceremony is over," Harry replied to Ron.
After speaking, he continued surveying the staff table.
Sitting at the head was Dumbledore.
His flowing silver hair and beard gleamed in the candlelight, with his luxurious robe embroidered with many stars and moons.
Harry was a bit curious why Dumbledore was still wearing the robe, knowing it was enchanted with ancient magic by Vivi...
Could it be because Gellert had given it to him?
Noticing Harry's gaze, Dumbledore winked at him.
Harry: ...
Bah, the old guy thinks he's cute at his age, doesn't he?
After winking, Dumbledore put his fingertips together, his chin resting on the tips as his eyes stared through his half-moon glasses at the ceiling, seemingly lost in thought.
Harry also glanced up at the ceiling, which was enchanted to resemble the sky outside, with stormy weather he'd never seen before.
Black and purple clouds rolled above, as another thunderclap sounded outside, with a forked lightning bolt flashing across the ceiling.
"Look," Hermione pointed at the ceiling, "isn't it amazing?"
"Magic is like that," Ron raised his eyebrows and said, "Actually, my home used to have this on the ceiling, but later my mom thought it was too flashy, so she didn't keep it."
"I quite like it," Hermione said.
Just then, the Great Hall doors opened once more.
Professor McGonagall led in a group of new students turned drenching wet, looking exactly like shivering little wet chickens.