Book 1: Harry Potter and the Saiyan's Secret

The cool night air wrapped around Harry as he stepped off the train at Hogsmeade Station. Lanterns bobbed in the distance, held high by none other than Hagrid, who called out to the first-years.

"Firs'-years! This way! Follow me!"

Harry, Ron, Hermione, and a few other nervous-looking students hurried over. Hagrid beamed at them, his wild beard glowing in the lantern light.

"Yeh'll be takin' the boats across the lake. Best view of Hogwarts, if yeh ask me."

The group followed Hagrid down a narrow path that sloped toward the edge of a vast, mirror-like lake. Four small boats waited, gently rocking in the water.

"Four to a boat," Hagrid called, stepping into one himself.

Harry climbed into a boat with Ron, Hermione, and a round-faced boy who introduced himself as Neville Longbottom. As the boats pushed off, the first-years fell silent, their gazes drawn upward.

Hogwarts loomed on the far side of the lake, its turrets and towers piercing the night sky. The castle's lights reflected on the water, making it seem like something out of a dream.

"Wow," Harry whispered.

"Brilliant, isn't it?" Ron said, grinning.

Even Hermione seemed at a loss for words, though she was gripping the side of the boat rather tightly.

---

The boats glided to a stop beneath an ivy-covered archway, and the students clambered out. Hagrid led them up a steep set of stone steps until they stood before the enormous front doors of the castle. He gave the doors three booming knocks, and they swung open to reveal a stern-looking witch in emerald robes.

"Professor McGonagall," Hagrid said with a nod. "Firs'-years for yeh."

"Thank you, Hagrid," McGonagall replied crisply. "Follow me, please."

The first-years shuffled after her into a vast entrance hall, their footsteps echoing on the marble floor. McGonagall led them to a smaller chamber off the main hall, where she turned to address them.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," she began. "Before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. Your house will be like your family during your time here. Triumphs will earn your house points, while rule-breaking will lose them."

She glanced over the group, her sharp eyes lingering briefly on Harry, who shifted uncomfortably.

"The Sorting Ceremony will begin shortly. Please wait here until I return."

As McGonagall left, the room buzzed with nervous chatter.

"How do they sort us?" Harry asked Ron.

"Dunno," Ron said. "Fred and George said it's something awful, like wrestling a troll or fighting a dragon."

Harry paled, but Hermione snorted. "Don't be ridiculous. It's probably some kind of spell or test."

Neville looked on the verge of tears, and Harry wasn't sure whether to feel comforted or even more anxious.

---

A few moments later, McGonagall returned and led them into the Great Hall. The sight took Harry's breath away. Thousands of candles floated in midair above long tables, their flames flickering gently. The ceiling was enchanted to look like the night sky, glittering with stars.

"Wicked," Harry muttered, craning his neck.

"It's enchanted to reflect the sky outside," Hermione whispered. "I read about it in Hogwarts: A History."

At the front of the hall stood a high table where the teachers sat, and in the center of the room was a stool with a frayed, ancient hat resting on top. Harry noticed Dumbledore sitting among the professors, his long silver beard gleaming in the candlelight.

The room fell silent as the Sorting Hat twitched. A rip near the brim opened like a mouth, and it began to sing a cheerful, rhyming song about the four houses: Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin.

When the song ended, the hall erupted in applause, and McGonagall stepped forward with a long scroll.

"When I call your name, you will come forward, place the hat on your head, and be sorted."

---

The first few names passed in a blur. Students walked up nervously, sat on the stool, and after a moment of deliberation, the hat called out their house. Some students, like Hermione, went straight to Gryffindor, their faces glowing with pride. Others joined Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, or Slytherin, greeted by cheers from their respective tables.

Finally, McGonagall called, "Potter, Harry."

The room fell silent. Harry could feel every eye on him as he walked to the stool. His heart was pounding as he sat down and pulled the hat over his head.

"Well, well," a voice said in his ear. "Harry Potter. I've been expecting you."

Harry gulped. "Er, hello?"

"You're difficult," the hat mused. "Plenty of courage, I see. A thirst to prove yourself. But also a great deal of power—untapped, dangerous, and unusual. You'd do well in Slytherin."

"Not Slytherin," Harry thought desperately. "Please, not Slytherin."

"Are you sure? Slytherin could help you on your path to greatness. It's all here, in you, waiting to be unleashed."

"I'm sure," Harry thought firmly. "Not Slytherin."

"Very well," the hat said, sounding almost amused. "If you're sure… better be… Gryffindor!"

The Gryffindor table erupted into cheers as Harry took off the hat and hurried over. Ron joined shortly after, looking relieved,