Harry Potter: Returns Back From Game of Thrones (ASOIAF) - 25

Chapter 25: Kingship, Witness

Slytherin disappointed Harry.

He'd expected some response, some protest, some fire. Instead—nothing. Complete acceptance of the Sorting Hat's yearly insult.

Perhaps they were accustomed to the Hat's disparagement, or genuinely believed "cunning and treacherous" and "any means to achieve ends" weren't derogatory terms at all. Perhaps they wore those descriptions as badges of honour.

Harry shifted his gaze back to the Sorting Hat itself. Its wisdom must be extraordinarily high—clearly the product of masterful alchemical craftsmanship. Because it was powerful, it no longer looked quite so shabby. He wanted it.

After the Hat finished singing, thunderous applause erupted throughout the Great Hall, echoing off the enchanted ceiling.

The Hat bowed deeply to each of the four house tables in turn, then went completely still, waiting.

"Looks like we just have to put on the hat. No combat trials after all," Ron whispered to Harry, relief evident in his voice. "But those ghosts earlier weren't your fault. My brothers told me we'd have to wrestle trolls."

"I was impulsive," Harry admitted with a faint smile. But compared to people around him getting hurt—even the Dursleys whom he disliked but whose lives he'd spare, or Ron and these young potential followers—when people were under his protection, Harry preferred acting first to avoid regret later.

There had been too many moments of regret in his past lives. Afterward, Harry had learnt to make his opponents regret it instead.

This naturally wasn't benevolence—this was selfishness, the King of Strength's particular brand of tyranny.

Professor McGonagall stepped forward, holding a long roll of parchment that crackled slightly as she unrolled it.

"When I call your name, you will put on the Hat, sit on the stool, and await your Sorting," she announced clearly.

"Hannah Abbott!"

A girl with two golden braids stepped nervously out of line and sat on the chair, the Hat descending over her eyes.

[Kingship, Witness]

[Reward: Bronze Attribute Point x1]

The system notification appeared immediately in Harry's consciousness.

His brow furrowed slightly. What major event had just occurred?

Could it be her—Hannah Abbott? Who was she? Why would her Sorting trigger a system reward?

Looking at Hannah, who appeared completely ordinary with no intuitive revelation whatsoever, Harry couldn't understand the significance.

Should he recruit her to his legion later? Was she somehow important to future events?

"HUFFLEPUFF!" the Hat shouted.

Hannah stumbled to the Hufflepuff table amid warm applause.

"Susan Bones!" "Terry Boot!" "Justin Finch-Fletchley!"

Several more students were called and sorted into various houses with varying degrees of ceremony.

Sometimes the Hat immediately shouted the house name after barely touching a student's head. Other times it took considerable time deliberating—probably because certain students possessed multiple strong characteristics simultaneously.

Made sense. One person could completely embody bravery, intelligence, ambition, and loyal honesty all at once. People were complex, not simple categories.

These subsequent students brought no new attribute points. Harry set aside his confusion about Hannah. Including his experiences crossing worlds, he'd learnt never to overthink initially inexplicable matters. Answers revealed themselves with time and observation.

Perhaps that event-participation attribute point stemmed from witnessing the first official Sorting ceremony itself, not anything specific to Hannah Abbott.

Each house erupted in enthusiastic applause when new students joined their tables, but clearly everyone most desired Harry Potter. Students repeatedly glanced toward his position among the remaining first years, whispering excitedly.

They all knew this year's intake included the famous saviour. Whilst first years had waited in the corridor earlier, the older students had discussed little else. Even those unaware of details had joined conversations when everyone around them talked so animatedly.

Now seeing him in person—he truly was extraordinary.

If this were the original thin, ordinary-looking Harry from his early childhood, one glance might make them think "nothing special", losing interest quickly.

They might even complain the saviour should look more impressive—being so ordinary made things difficult for everyone's expectations.

The current Harry—transformed by years in Westeros and bearing himself like royalty—was entirely different, giving them genuine excitement at meeting a living legend.

It's Harry Potter! He's here! He even defeated ghosts before arriving!

During the ongoing ceremony, Hermione and Neville—who'd travelled with Harry—were both sorted into Gryffindor amid roaring approval from that house table.

This didn't contradict Harry's own judgement. He'd already sensed these people possessed fundamentally "brave" personalities, though he privately felt Hermione might better suit Ravenclaw's scholarly atmosphere.

Perhaps she'd been influenced by knowing the world's strongest wizard Dumbledore had been Gryffindor. The Sorting Hat had certainly praised Gryffindor most enthusiastically in its song. Hermione seemed particularly susceptible to authority and established wisdom.

Finally—at last—

"Harry Potter!"

As Harry stepped forward confidently, the Great Hall suddenly erupted in a wave of whispers that rippled through the assembled students like wind through wheat fields.

Hundreds of students collectively inhaled sharply, the sound like a breaking wave. The temperature dropped noticeably—likely from the ghosts' emotional fluctuations, as most spirits possessed natural cooling abilities. Death and cold always appeared together in the magical world.

"Potter—they finally called Potter!"

"Is that really Harry Potter?"

"What those ghosts said was true? He can actually hurt them?"

"Not only that—he apparently tried attacking Professor Snape earlier. The ghosts claimed when those ice javelins appeared, they all wanted to kneel in submission."

"You think he might be some kind of battle prodigy?"

"I still can't fathom how a one-year-old infant climbed from his cot to duel the most terrifying Dark Lord. This is simply impossible to imagine."

"Perhaps we'll witness him battling professors right here at school."

"He's so imposing—not his face specifically, but that presence. He's truly only eleven?"

"Hope he's sorted to our house. I mean, he's incredible, isn't he?"

"Rather than sorted to opposing houses, I'd much prefer him on our side—that way we're allies and won't risk injury in any house conflicts."

Just as the ancient Hat descended to cover his head and block his vision, Harry saw the entire Great Hall full of craning necks, hundreds of faces turned toward him, everyone hoping to see him clearly, to witness this moment.

It felt inexplicably like a coronation ceremony—everyone watching their future king claim his throne.

So this was the perspective. Had the previous new students felt this scrutiny? Except perhaps Hannah Abbott, being novel as the very first sorted, most students wouldn't have drawn so many watching eyes.

"Hmm," Harry heard a tiny, ancient voice speaking directly into his mind. "Difficult. Very difficult indeed. Clearly exceptional—extraordinarily brave, with ambition exceptionally strong as well. My goodness, you're truly a remarkably talented young wizard. Whether Gryffindor... or perhaps Slytherin... Wait. Wisdom... You genuinely believe yourself very wise? Most interesting."

Harry considered this. He felt he could thrive in any house—seemingly it wouldn't affect participating in events or completing his studies successfully.

But what did this Hat's tone imply?

In that case, I absolutely must go to Ravenclaw. Am I somehow less intelligent than ordinary young wizards?

Impossible. I've lived more lives, seen more worlds, learnt more lessons than they could imagine. Let me demonstrate my wisdom!

"Oh? You're genuinely determined for Ravenclaw... This proves rather difficult then."

"No, I'm joking."

Ultimately, the curriculum remained identical across houses. Harry genuinely felt any house suited him equally well.

Like those obsessed with bloodline purity in the Sacred Twenty-Eight families, Harry believed collectives should be honoured through his membership, not the reverse.

He never wasted mental energy on such meaningless hierarchies.

He wasn't like Ron, whose entire family belonged to Gryffindor—Ron being sorted elsewhere would genuinely seem strange. Harry's parents had died long ago. No family expectations to consider.

Harry believed whichever house received him would gain glory through his presence, not the other way around.

There was an ancient saying: today I honour my school; tomorrow my school honours me through what I've become.

There was also an older maxim: are kings, nobles, generals, and ministers born to their stations, or do they seize them through merit?

Even without noble birth, hadn't Harry still become Protector of the Realm, monarch of the Seven Kingdoms in absolutely feudal, tradition-bound Westeros?

Strength was the foundation of legitimate kingship!

Harry had long ago understood the world's fundamental operating principles with his hard-won wisdom—power sufficient to establish and protect order was the strongest form of legitimacy!

The Hat would soon learn this truth as well.