Hogwarts' Niffler: All I Need Is Galleons

Chapter 5 – Sorting



Chapter 5 – Sorting

"Hannah Abbott."

"Hufflepuff!"

"Susan Bones."

"Hufflepuff!"

***

"Harry Potter."

Professor McGonagall called out the names one by one, and the students below erupted into surprised chatter.

"Harry Potter!"

"Oh, Merlin above, is that the Boy?"

"Yes, it's him."

"My mom said he's starting school this year too. I never thought I'd see him."

"Which one is he?"

"Is it the one walking forward?"

"It should be. My mom said the Potters all have black hair."

"Oh, my Merlin, that's Potter!"

Not only the seated students but even the new students standing together were excited, whispering about the story of the Boy Who Lived.

Hoare stood in the crowd, watching Harry walk step by step to the stage. His face was not looking good, as if he was holding his breath, turning a bit blue.

It seemed Harry still didn't believe in his charm, Hoare raised an eyebrow.

"Harry Potter?"

A voice echoed in Harry's mind.

"Well... let me see."

"You are brave, a good person, very talented, oh, heavens, yes—you desire to prove your worth, how interesting... so, where should I place you?"

Harry gripped the edge of the stool tightly, feeling extremely nervous, as the voice continued, "You could become a great wizard, you have talents others don't, Slytherin could help you succeed. Go to Slytherin!"

"No!!!" Harry shouted out in fear.

"Oh, oh, oh, don't shout, I can hear you," the voice said in Harry's mind.

"Slytherin really suits you, won't you consider it?"

Harry was almost in tears, as if he saw countless Dudleys laughing and running towards him.

He clutched his clothes tightly, trying to hold onto something to ease his panic.

Suddenly, Harry felt a warm and comforting sensation under his hand.

It soothed his anxious heart.

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Hoare sat towards the back.

His eyes scanned each Slytherin member and the dark-clad headmaster at the main table, all future clients of his.

"Henry!" A familiar voice came from beside him, and he saw the person who had been sitting next to him move aside in panic.

It was Harry, to Hoare's surprise.

"Harry? What are you doing here?"

"I'm here to thank you," Harry said excitedly, leaning in to whisper to Hoare, "Did you use magic to switch our houses?"

"You're so kind! How could you be sorted into..."

"No, I came here willingly."

Three drops of sweat fell from Hoare's forehead.

Harry's eyes were filled with gratitude, and Hoare felt his explanation was in vain. Just as well, he could collect the payment now and not have to find him later.

"200 Galleons," Hoare extended his hand.

"Ah?" Harry was confused. What 200 Galleons? How did it become 200 Galleons?

"With interest, double," Hoare explained succinctly.

Harry, used to being poor, trembled as he asked, "What if I didn't bring that much money to school?" All his money was in Gringotts.

"No worries, daily interest rate of 0.05%, calculated daily," Hoare smiled slyly.

Harry swallowed and signed the loan contract Hoare had conjured from who knows where, confirming that Hoare was a true Slytherin!

His gratitude was misplaced!

As the last student took their seat, Headmaster Dumbledore stood up, raised his wand to his throat, and cast Sonorus:

"Welcome!" he said loudly, "Welcome to Hogwarts for a new school year. Before the feast, I want to say a few words: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!"

"Thank you all!"

Headmaster Dumbledore sat back down, and everyone clapped and cheered.

Harry quickly returned to the Gryffindor table.

In an instant, the previously empty tables were filled with food, and it was finally time to eat.

Hoare was so hungry he could eat a whole cow.

The Great Hall was filled only with the sound of chewing as everyone was starving, and only after eating their fill did conversations begin to emerge.

"Do you know Potter?"

Hoare was eating a chicken leg when he heard an arrogant voice beside him, a voice that was condescending even when asking questions.

Hoare didn't need to look up to know who it was.

Draco Malfoy.

Since it was that little brat, there was no need to be polite. Hoare replied without lifting his head, "If you want to know, pay up."

Proofreader & Editor: Peter Pan


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