Fury carries him to the front of the Great Hall, where members of staff rise out of their seats upon seeing him.

He ignores them.

Glares at the young boy, Abbot, Linus, who's just stepped out of the queue.

Throws himself on the stool. Jams on the tattered Sorting Hat.

"Hmm... Have I not sorted you before?"

"NO."

"If you insist. Let's have a look."

He doesn't realize what he's done until it's over, and then it's too late.

"SLYTHERIN!"

Terror seizes him, but he plasters a scowl on his face and marches on shaking legs to the Slytherin table.