Hogwarts’ White Lord

29: How Do You Have So Much Magic?



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"Oh, a clever little girl, where should I sort you?"

The Sorting Hat had a certain ability in Legilimency, allowing it to see some of Hermione's surface memories, not any personal secret, but more importantly, it could perceive her essential character, heart, and will.

Sometimes, the Sorting Hat doesn't simply make the best choice.

It also gives people a chance—a chance to change.

Just like Neville, who was timid and cowardly, yet the Sorting Hat placed him in Gryffindor because it sensed that Neville didn't lack talent but rather confidence and courage.

Similarly, Hermione was brilliant, but she lacked in other areas.

For instance, Hermione didn't fully understand how to deal with people, didn't grasp the complexities of human nature, was overly focused on rules and regulations, held a superstitious belief in so-called "truth," and lacked the courage to break the rules.

And these qualities were precisely what Gryffindor nurtured.

"This is quite difficult," the Sorting Hat mused.

For a whole minute, the Sorting Hat couldn't decide. "If I put you in Ravenclaw, you'd surely thrive there."

"Ravenclaw?"

Hermione was well-acquainted with all four houses due to Ivan, but she didn't want to be placed in Hufflepuff.

Though she didn't say it aloud, deep down, she subconsciously thought that Hufflepuff was where only less capable or lazy students ended up.

As for Slytherin...

Hermione instinctively rejected the idea of going to that dark and intimidating house. She felt out of place and inferior in front of the wizarding world's nobles who often hailed from there.

"Ok! I know where you should go," the Sorting Hat said with a slight tilt of its wide mouth before shouting loudly, "Gryffindor!!"

Pah pah pah.

Professor McGonagall at the teacher's table beamed with joy when she saw Hermione sorted into Gryffindor.

Hermione walked off the stage with a smile on her face.

Though she didn't fully understand why the Sorting Hat placed her in Gryffindor, she was fine with either Gryffindor or Ravenclaw.

Now, the little witch only hoped that Ivan would be sorted into the same house as her.

She didn't want to be separated from Ivan.

Next was Ron, who was sorted into Gryffindor just as in the original book.

Then came Malfoy, Moon, Nott, Parkinson, and the Patil twins...

"Harry Potter!"

When Harry's name was called, Ivan noticed that all the professors at the teacher's table and the young wizards in the audience turned their attention to Harry.

At that moment, Ivan focused on the white-haired, white-bearded old man sitting at the center of the teacher's table.

The most powerful living wizard in the entire Harry Potter world—Albus Dumbledore.

Just by sitting there, Ivan could "see" the immense magical power radiating from the old man.

Magic is not merely energy but a supernatural manifestation.

The invisible aura around Dumbledore seemed ordinary at first glance, but in reality, it was seamlessly integrated with everything around him.

Ivan had never encountered such a feeling of "returning to nature" in any other wizard.

"Hmm?"

Dumbledore appeared to notice Ivan's gaze and looked back at him.

The old and the young wizard locked eyes for a brief moment.

Dumbledore recognized something in Ivan.

Just as Ivan could sense Dumbledore's immense power, the old man could see the extraordinary potential in the boy.

'A naturally gifted wizard,' Dumbledore thought.

He smiled kindly. He was impressed by Ivan's talent but had no intention of doing anything more.

Some people might believe that Dumbledore, always wary of the next Voldemort, would be cautious of any ambitious and gifted young wizard.

However, Ivan didn't share that view at the moment.

His psychic vision not only allowed him to observe the magical world at a microscopic level but also gave him a sixth sense to detect others' feelings—whether they bore him goodwill or malice.

Dumbledore's kindness was genuine, pure, and free of any ulterior motives. He was simply observing an extraordinary young wizard with admiration.

However, after a while, Dumbledore's expression became somewhat... perplexed.

At first, Dumbledore showed a look of doubt, as if he were thinking, or perhaps recalling something.

Finally, as if he had confirmed his suspicions, the old man's eyes became more solemn and filled with concern.

'Has he noticed?' Ivan wondered, secretly impressed by Dumbledore's perceptiveness. The old man had sensed the power silently lurking within him.

"Gryffindor!!"

At that moment, both the old and young wizards were brought back to reality by the Sorting Hat's declaration.

Dumbledore gave Ivan an apologetic glance, then lifted his wine glass in a gesture toward Harry, silently congratulating him on being sorted into Gryffindor.

"We have Potter! We have Potter!" the Weasley twins shouted loudly, celebrating. Professor McGonagall was also smiling. She felt today was truly her lucky day.

First Hermione, then Harry.

Now, only Ivan was left, and McGonagall was eagerly anticipating completing her trio of star students to help Gryffindor dominate Hogwarts.

"Ivan Ambrosius!"

As McGonagall called Ivan's name, all eyes—Hermione's, Ron's, and the other first-years—turned to him.

The older students didn't know much about Ivan, and among the teachers, only Dumbledore and McGonagall were aware of his uniqueness.

As a result, Ivan didn't receive much attention.

He walked forward calmly and sat on the stool.

Professor McGonagall nervously placed the Sorting Hat on Ivan's head.

It was amusing, in a way, that she, the one presiding over the Sorting Ceremony, would feel so anxious about the sorting of one particular student.

'Not Slytherin, not Slytherin,' Professor McGonagall silently prayed. She really didn't want Ivan to be sorted into Slytherin.

It wasn't that McGonagall held prejudice against Slytherin, but the current atmosphere in the house was less than ideal. The older witch was worried that Ivan might be led astray by their pure-blood ideology.

However, McGonagall needn't have worried—Ivan wasn't a believer in the pure-blood doctrine.

In fact, Ivan agreed more with the phrase: for the greater good.

"Merlin's beard, what's going on with you?"

The Sorting Hat whispered in shock.

It had existed for thousands of years, yet it had never encountered such a formidable young wizard: "Are you sure you're not some old wizard over a hundred years old who took Polyjuice Potion?"

The magic in Ivan—just from the Sorting Hat touching his head—was like a vast, stormy ocean of power.

Even more troubling was that another will seemed to reside within Ivan, blocking the Sorting Hat from reading him clearly. It could only catch vague fragments of his mind.

When the hat attempted to delve deeper, that Will turned into a black storm, frightening the Sorting Hat so much that it almost leapt off Ivan's head.

"Oh? I'm sorry, Mr. Hat," Ivan said with a smile. "I really am just a young wizard."

"Alright, alright," the Sorting Hat muttered, calming itself.

It had never encountered such a situation before. "What a remarkable little one. You'll surely become a great wizard someday."

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