Chapter 145: The Sorting Ceremony
Chapter 145: The Sorting Ceremony
As Kyle took his seat, Professor McGonagall arrived at the three-legged stool.
The applause in the Great Hall gradually subsided.
Professor McGonagall picked up the hat.
"When I call your name, please put on the hat and sit on the stool for sorting."
"Hannah Abbott!"
A little girl with rosy cheeks and two golden braids stumbled out of line and put on the hat.
After a brief pause—
"Hufflepuff!"
The people on the right table applauded to welcome Hannah to Hufflepuff.
The second student, Susan Bones, was also sorted into Hufflepuff, and she quickly ran over to sit next to Hannah amid the applause.
The sorting ceremony continued smoothly, with Hermione and Neville both ending up in Gryffindor.
Draco Malfoy, as expected, was sorted into Slytherin.
And unsurprisingly, Harry and Ron were also placed in Gryffindor.
Kyle noticed that Dumbledore, sitting at the head table, looked particularly pleased. He clapped his hands and even gestured towards Harry with the House Cup, not bothering to hide his favoritism.
"Old bee," Kyle muttered, rolling his eyes. He knew that Dumbledore would give Harry special treatment, but this blatant display was a bit much.
Unlike Dumbledore, Professor Snape did not look happy.
However, he wasn't staring at Harry; instead, he narrowed his eyes, fixating on the Sorting Hat as if he were about to pull out a potion and pour it over the tattered hat any second.
When the last student was sorted into Slytherin, Snape immediately stood up, intending to help Professor McGonagall return the Sorting Hat.
But he was refused.
"Thank you, Severus, but the list of new students needs to be placed in a specified location, and you might not find it." Professor McGonagall glanced at him with a puzzled expression, then rolled up the parchment, and left with the Sorting Hat.
Dumbledore stood up, a beaming smile on his face as he looked at everyone, arms outstretched.
"Welcome!"
He said, "Welcome to Hogwarts for the new school year! Before the feast begins, I have a few words to say."
"Namely: Nitwits! Mooncalfs! Dung-for-brains! And Knobheads!"
"Thank you!"
As Dumbledore sat down, the once-empty plates were suddenly filled with a variety of delicious food.
"Oh, I hate carrots..."
Michael looked at the vegetable soup in front of him and said to Ryan beside him, "Do you want to switch seats?"
Ryan, who was munching on a corncob, shrugged indifferently and got up to switch seats with Michael.
He wasn't picky and ate just about anything.
"Kyle, do you know what the headmaster meant by those words?" Cedric asked, puzzled.
For some reason, he felt that Dumbledore's behavior gave off a crazy impression, like that of a senile old wizard.
His words were also cryptic and enigmatic.
"I'm not quite sure," Kyle thought for a moment and said, "Maybe he's referring to our perception of the other three houses. Take Ravenclaw, for example; they always think people from other houses are nitwits."
"Is that so..."
Reminded by Kyle, Cedric quickly made the connection and guessed the meanings of the other three terms, nodding thoughtfully, "Makes sense."
There were many speculations about Dumbledore's words, but no matter how reasonable they sounded, they were still just guesses.
No one knew his true thoughts.
The only person who might have known was currently imprisoned in Nurmengard.
...
Everyone enjoyed the delicious feast, and soon, the last few pumpkin pies on the golden plates disappeared.
After the sumptuous banquet, Dumbledore stood up once more.
"Now that you are all well-fed and satisfied, I have a few more words to say."
"First, it is with great pleasure that I introduce our familiar Professor Quirinus Quirrell, who has volunteered to fill the vacancy for the Defense Against the Dark Arts position.
The Great Hall echoed with moderately enthusiastic applause.
However, most of the applause was for Professor Keridi Bubaji.
As for Professor Quirrell, he was simply riding on her coattails... He was just a yearly replacement professor, nothing to get excited about.
"I never knew Professor Quirrell was so brave to volunteer for the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts professor," a senior student near Kyle remarked.
After the applause died down, the two professors resumed their seats.
"A word of warning to all first-year students," Dumbledore continued. "The forest on school grounds is forbidden to all pupils. Do remember that, and if anyone invites you over there—even a teacher you trust—I beg you not to go with them. It's very important."
As he said this, Kyle felt countless gazes shift towards him.
This left him speechless.
What was this, a public execution?
Fortunately, Dumbledore didn't dwell on the topic and continued, "Also, Caretaker Filch has asked me to remind you all that magic is not to be used in the corridors between classes. And no magical plants are to be taken from the greenhouse back to the castle, especially the dangerous ones."
Dumbledore's twinkling eyes glanced in Kyle's direction.
Kyle twitched the corner of his mouth but quickly regained his composure.
Although he didn't know how Dumbledore found out, he decided to give the headmaster face and refrain from using any plants from the greenhouse for the rest of the term.
"Tryouts for the house Quidditch teams will take place in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their house team should contact Madam Hooch."
"Finally, I must tell you that the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death."
Kyle couldn't help but laugh at this blatant bait. It was so obvious, and Dumbledore was using a straight hook, yet Voldemort had taken it.
He didn't even consider that if Dumbledore didn't have a backup plan, he wouldn't be announcing it to everyone so openly.
No, Voldemort was currently just a wandering spirit, sharing Professor Quirrell's brain, so the occasional glitch was to be expected.
"He can't be serious," Michael said, his face turning pale.
"Not likely," Cedric shook his head. "At least, not to that extent. If there really was such a dangerous place in Hogwarts, it would've been sealed off completely."
After everyone had finished singing the school song, Dumbledore announced that they could retire for the night.
Kyle remained seated and turned to look at the Gryffindor table.
Someone had a bet to settle.
"Oh... Damn it!"
"I thought he'd forgotten about it."
Fred and George sighed and, amidst Harry and Ron's confused gazes, reluctantly popped a Toffee Eclair into their mouths.
"Wow..."
"Ooooh~~"
Amidst the shocked and mocking voices, Fred and George began tap-dancing beside the table, their tongues, now three feet long, flailing about as they tried not to trip over them.
This particular bet wasn't part of the original wager—it was an extra condition they had added themselves.
Because they had to be careful not to step on their own tongues, Fred and George's tap dancing was full of twitches and spasms, making their performance all the more mesmerizing.
"Ooooh~~"
Laughter and cheers erupted once more from the surrounding students.
Even Dumbledore was intrigued by their unique appearance and captivating dance moves, watching them with interest.
Only Professor McGonagall stood there with a dark expression, her mouth pursed into a thin line.
Last year wasn't enough for them? They had to do it again this year?
(End of Chapter)
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