HBWnovel Chapter 4 – Talisman
Chapter 4 – Talisman
"Harry! Don't believe him! Dumbledore is present at the Sorting Ceremony, it must be the fairest and most just," Ron exclaimed, fearing that Harry might take Hoare's words seriously.
Hoare pulled something out of his robe pocket, a talisman.
Yes, it was a talisman from China, but Hoare had folded it randomly.
The only difference was that this talisman had been enchanted to dispel all negative emotions and strengthen one's resolve.
It was a simplified version of the Patronus Charm, which Hoare had learned by activating a spell talent for 100 Galleons.
This was exactly what Harry Potter needed.@@@@
"Give it a try," Hoare tempted.
Harry took it, and instantly, all his inner anxieties seemed to dissipate.
It was incredible!
It felt as if a gentle breeze had swept through his foggy mind, clearing away all the gloom, allowing his heart and brain to breathe.
His mind had never felt so calm and peaceful.
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Harry widened his eyes, looking at Hoare in astonishment.
"Don't worry, you've paid extra, I guarantee it's worth it, and your wishes will come true," Hoare assured.
From past memories, no matter what happened, Harry would definitely end up in Gryffindor; all he needed was to strengthen his resolve.
"This, this isn't right! How can you use such underhanded methods for the Sorting!" Ron was almost exploding with anger, urgently trying to dissuade Harry, "Harry, Dumbledore will definitely find out!"
Harry hesitated a bit, could this talisman really guarantee he would get into Gryffindor? Wasn't it just a trick? After all, Henry William was also a new student.
"You can try it first, if it doesn't work, I won't charge you. If it does, then you pay," Hoare noticed Harry's hesitation and added, "With interest, of course."
"Double."
Hoare thought he was being quite generous.
"Alright," Harry thought, figuring he wouldn't have to pay if it didn't work, and casually put the talisman into his pocket.
Whether or not the talisman could get him into Gryffindor, at least it could dispel his current unease, which was somewhat useful.
***
As night fully descended, the three of them rubbed their stomachs, the snacks they had eaten in the afternoon were long gone.
He had never thought of coming to Hogwarts before, not because he didn't want to, but because he didn't dare to dream.
Now, he was part of Hogwarts.
The boat soon reached the shore, and Hagrid was the first to disembark, holding the oil lamp to light the path for the young wizards.
Hoare's boat was the last to dock, and as they disembarked, Hagrid was already heading towards the castle, Hoare hurriedly following with his robe in hand.
After climbing dozens of steps and reaching a cobblestone and pebble-paved ground, they finally officially entered Hogwarts.
In front of the giant oak doors, Hagrid did a quick headcount, then raised his fist, larger than a cauldron, and knocked three times on the castle door.
The oak door made a heavy sound, and soon, it slowly opened to the sides.
Professor McGonagall, in a green robe, stepped out, her face serious and stern. With just a glance, the previously chattering young wizards fell silent like quails, not daring to make a sound.
"First years are all here, Professor McGonagall."
"Thank you, Hagrid, I'll take it from here."
Professor McGonagall led the first years into the Great Hall.
The Great Hall was magnificent, with thousands of candles floating in the air.
Four long tables were arranged side by side, except for the front positions reserved for the new students, the other seats were already filled.
On a slightly elevated platform was the head table, where the Hogwarts faculty sat, with only one seat currently vacant.
In the center sat a wizard with long silver hair and beard, his nose long and crooked, seemingly broken at least twice, looking painful.
That was Albus Dumbledore.
Hoare looked up at him.
Behind his half-moon spectacles were blue eyes, twinkling with light, as if they could see through a person's soul.
Professor McGonagall placed a high stool in the center of the hall, with a hat on top.
The hat was patched, worn, and its original color was indiscernible, certainly not the current grayish-brown.
The new students, except for Hoare, curiously examined the dusty hat.
Then, the hat suddenly unfolded, splitting open like a mouth, and began to sing:
"You may think I'm not pretty, but don't judge on what you see..."
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