Chapter 618: An Unusual Feast
Chapter 618: An Unusual Feast
September 1st, evening, drizzling rain.
The Hogwarts Express pulled into Hogsmeade Station.
Ron and Hermione had to brave the rain to maintain order on the muddy road, ushering the overly excited young wizards into the carriages. Harry deliberately dawdled, waiting until the platform was nearly empty before slipping out. As a result, they were almost the last to board the carriages.
"Ugh, those little brats are a handful", Ron complained. "I suddenly have a craving for French cuisine. What about you?"
"Anything's fine", Hermione said, sounding a bit tired.
The carriage started moving, the sky was overcast, and the light was darker than usual. Rain pattered on the roof and splashed into the carriage, making Harry shiver. The carriage finally stopped at the stone steps leading to the oak doors. Hermione, who had been dozing off, woke up with a start and jumped out. "Hurry up, you two!"
"She's definitely starving", Ron whispered to Harry.
The three of them joined the crowd, their feet clattering on the waterlogged stone steps. The bright entrance hall was in sight, and Harry was eager to sit down in the Great Hall and enjoy a meal. The thought warmed him up a bit, and he climbed the last few steps in one breath.
A pair of shoes blocked his path.
Harry looked up to see Professor Hup's stern face, devoid of any extra expression. A strange fear gripped him, making his insides ache. Ron and Hermione turned around, puzzled.
"P-P-Professor?" Harry swallowed.
"Harry, stay behind after the feast. Professor Dumbledore and I need to take you somewhere", Felix said. He had been standing in the cold for nearly half an hour, almost thinking Harry had missed the train.
Valen's fur was soaked, and he finally couldn't stand it anymore, so he ran into the Great Hall.
Harry opened his mouth but swallowed his words. "Okay."
Felix nodded and led him toward the Great Hall. "Professor?" Felix stopped and looked at Harry. Harry was shivering from the cold. "Do I need to prepare anything...?"
"No, but it would be best to bring your wand."
Harry walked into the Great Hall with heavy steps.
The tables were a noisy mess. When he sat down, Ron and Hermione gave him a puzzled look. Harry shook his head and couldn't help but glance at the professors' table. Professor Hup was leaning over Professor Mcgonagall's empty chair, whispering to Headmaster Dumbledore, who nodded solemnly.
His heart sank.
"Harry has been informed. After the feast..."
"I understand", Dumbledore said, his voice deep. He picked up a fork and tapped it against a goblet, the clear sound echoing through the Great Hall. The noise gradually died down, and the students' gazes turned to the professors' table. Some who had been chatting with their friends noticed the unusual situation.
"Two new professors!" Seamus exclaimed, counting them by subject, his face puzzled. "How did we end up with an extra one...?"
"Professor Mcgonagall's seat is empty!"
...
"The person next to Snape is Professor Slughorn, and the one next to Professor Hup is Mr. Bashir", Harry whispered.
Hermione inhaled sharply, looking uneasy.
"What's wrong?"
"The number of chairs doesn't match. There's an extra one—"
At that moment, the door to the hall opened, and Professor Mcgonagall led a line of young wizards in, arranging them in front of the staff table. She then placed a dirty hat on the Sorting Stool and stood aside to wait.
The Sorting Hat began to sing:
I once adorned the heads of the greatest duelists,
Though I had not yet been given life;
I am older than anything in the castle,
But don't assume I will never change.
The four founders of this great school,
Their deeds are remembered for a thousand years;
Who else could know them as well as I do?
Think of who carries their thoughts!
Godric Gryffindor, the unbeatable duelist,
Rowena Ravenclaw, whose wisdom is unmatched,
Helga Hufflepuff, kind and fair to all,
Salazar Slytherin, cunning and unscrupulous.
Though their bodies have decayed,
Their ideals live on in the students;
Each house produces outstanding individuals,
Together making Hogwarts renowned.
But let me pour some cold water on you,
A single-minded approach can only lead to division.
Courage and recklessness are indistinguishable,
Wisdom and arrogance are closely linked,
Kindness and weakness often transform into one another,
Cunning and selfishness are but a thought apart.
Now I stand before you,
Revealing the past with honesty;
I have fulfilled my duty, speaking the truth—
Let us begin the sorting.
The Sorting Hat fell silent. The Great Hall seemed to freeze for a few seconds before scattered applause broke out. Students whispered to each other, "I've never heard the Sorting Hat criticize the four houses' ideals before", Ron said, surprised.
"But it has the right to", Harry said, joining in the applause, though he felt a bit strange about it.
Usually, the Sorting Hat simply highlights the qualities valued by the four houses and praises the founders (sometimes sparing Slytherin). Last year was different; it gave a warning, urging students to unite, but that was because Voldemort was a threat outside the school.
Now that the war was over, Ginny even placed a bet with Ron on the train, wagering that the Sorting Hat would sing a sappy song about people stepping out of the shadow of war this year.
Professor Mcgonagall was a bit taken aback. She cleared her throat loudly, and the murmurs below instantly ceased. She took out a long roll of parchment with the names of the new students and began to read them off—
"Tulius Alimo."
"Very distinctive", Grindelwald said softly, lowering his hand from the professors' table.
Felix smiled faintly, his gaze sweeping across the Great Hall. The students and professors had varying reactions to the Sorting Hat's song. For instance, Slughorn, who had been loudly schmoozing with several professors, now sat in silence, his brow furrowed.
He glanced at Dumbledore and then subtly glanced at Grindelwald, his walrus mustache quivering.
Perhaps he was weighing the pros and cons in his mind... Felix thought to himself. He knew Dumbledore had tried to recruit Slughorn with the promise of a teaching position and protection, but at the time, Voldemort was still at large, and Slughorn didn't want to expose himself.
Now that the war was over, the cunning old walrus could no longer hold back.
But there was one advantage: Severus finally got the position he had long desired.
"… Toby Gilbert."
Felix glanced at the Sorting Hat, keenly picking up on the key points of this year's song—much like last year, it called for unity among the students. However, the reasons were different. Last year, it was due to external threats; this year, it might be due to internal issues.
Had the Sorting Hat heard something from Dumbledore?
Felix, looking at the relaxed and enthusiastic Grindelwald, thought the direction was quite clear—the old man's power had diminished significantly, and he could only talk the talk. Despite Felix's playful jibes about the book list for this year's Defense Against the Dark Arts course, he didn't believe the Dark Lord, who had once aimed to rule Muggles, would easily bow to Grindelwald's peace ideals.
Using his books as targets for criticism was more likely.
Felix had already made up his mind to attend a few of Grindelwald's classes when he had the time. He had put a lot of effort into his books and wouldn't let Grindelwald misinterpret them.
"… Zenothea Hubbard."
"Slytherin!"
The Sorting Ceremony finally concluded, and Professor Mcgonagall approached to take the Sorting Hat and stool—“Please wait, Minerva,” Dumbledore suddenly said. Professor Mcgonagall froze, hesitating as she asked, “Albus?”
Dumbledore stood up nimbly, his steps light. He smiled and said, “I’m just curious. If I were to be sorted now, which house would I be placed in?” He picked up the Sorting Hat, turned it around, and placed it on his head, sitting down on the small stool in a somewhat comical manner.
The Great Hall erupted in excitement.
Despite their rumbling stomachs, the students stood up, tiptoeing to get a better view. “He’s gone mad!” Hermione exclaimed. “No, this is normal!” Harry and Ron said in unison, all the students watching Dumbledore with wide-eyed anticipation.
“What do you think he’s trying to do?”
“Who knows, but it would be hilarious if the Sorting Hat placed him in another house!”
“Maybe that’s exactly what he wants!”
Dumbledore sat properly on the small stool, his long white beard trailing on the floor. He closed his eyes, seemingly communicating with the Sorting Hat. The brim of the hat, where the rip was, opened wide and shouted, “This is against the rules, Dumbledore!”
“Oh, come on… just this once…” Dumbledore whispered, a statement only Professor Mcgonagall heard. Her lips were tightly pressed together, her fingers opening and closing, torn between forcibly removing the Sorting Hat from Dumbledore's head or letting it play out.
She couldn't decide which would cause more of a scandal... so she remained frozen, her chest heaving.
After a couple of minutes, the Sorting Hat reluctantly shouted, “Gryffindor!”
Dumbledore stood up, looking satisfied, and handed the Sorting Hat to Professor Mcgonagall, who looked irritated. Felix, Grindelwald, and Snape were all deep in thought, though their thoughts were quite different.
Felix was even more eager for the post-dinner speech. What would Dumbledore say? Would he support the school's reforms? Grindelwald's preparation for this year was highly targeted, and without Dumbledore's tacit approval, the outrageous book list wouldn't have existed.
Dumbledore returned to his seat, as if nothing had happened, and with a wide smile, he said, “Nothing represents my current mood better than a hearty meal. Let’s eat!”
Then he sat down, and the food appeared from the ceiling.
Grindelwald stared, slightly taken aback, thinking Dumbledore would at least say something more.
“The Headmaster never disappoints in these matters, does he, Minerva?” Felix said, cheerfully piling ribs onto his plate. “Perhaps we should make it a school rule that pre-dinner speeches must not exceed ten words.”
Professor Mcgonagall, who had just sat down, huffed and glared at Dumbledore.
"Let's add one more rule: no sudden fits of madness."
When the last dessert disappeared, Dumbledore stood up again. Felix watched their Headmaster with interest, his gaze lingering on the black gemstone ring that seemed to be permanently attached to Dumbledore's hand. Could it be the Resurrection Stone? He recalled his chance encounter with Xenophilius Lovegood a few weeks ago.
Unfortunately, they didn't exchange many words because Mr. Lovegood seemed to have eaten something bad and was in a hurry to find a bathroom.
He wondered if that incident had anything to do with Lovegood's failed interview...
"Alright... new students, welcome to Hogwarts; returning students, welcome back!" Dumbledore wiped a tear from his eye emotionally. "A new year of magical education awaits you..."
"Mr. Filch has asked me to inform everyone... Quidditch tryouts will be... the spell test and retake lists..."
The students listened half-heartedly, already half-asleep. These were all old news.
"This year, we have two new professors, and some minor changes in the faculty. First, let's welcome Professor Slughorn, who has worked with me before and is an experienced Potions professor..."
"Potions?"
The students' eyes widened as they stared at the old wizard who stood up and waved enthusiastically at them. He wore a finely tailored vest, his belly so large it couldn't fit through the buttons, and his bald head gleamed in the light from above.
"Of course—" Hermione lightly tapped the table with her fist.
"Of course what?" Ron asked, confused. Like most students, his gaze shifted between the new professor and Snape, his expression suggesting he was looking forward to some drama.
"Didn't you notice there's one more professor this year? I thought—"
"Meanwhile, Professor Bashir and Professor Snape", Dumbledore continued, his expression unchanged but his voice slightly louder, "will co-teach Defense Against the Dark Arts."
Hermione took a sharp breath.
"Of all the arrangements, this one! Well, at least Snape got what he wanted."
The students' murmurs grew louder. "I'm just concerned about who will teach the sixth year", Ron said. At that moment, Professor Bashir stood up politely to acknowledge the crowd, while Snape merely raised a lazy hand, earning cheers from the Slytherin students.
Ron sneered. "Quite a difference. Although I hate Snape, he’s better than a Squib—"
"Ron!" Hermione warned.
Ron shrank back. "Alright... I won't say anything, but the issue is there, and we can't pretend it doesn't exist. Everyone knows the choice..."
Dumbledore waited until the noise died down before continuing. "The two professors will divide the workload. Professor Snape will teach first to fifth-year students, while Professor Bashir will handle the advanced classes..."
A loud chorus of boos erupted from the Slytherin House, protesting on behalf of their Head of House.
Even Harry was surprised. While only the Slytherin students had openly objected, the other three houses were relatively quiet, perhaps because they didn't know Bashir was a Squib. If they did, there would likely be an uproar.
Harry glanced at the professors' table, feeling a bit worried for Professor Bashir, but the man's expression remained calm.
In a corner of his mind, Harry felt a sense of relief. Although he hadn't yet attended a class with Professor Bashir, at least he could be sure he wouldn't have to deal with Snape much this year.
A thought suddenly struck him. Maybe Snape chose the first to fifth-year classes for the same reason.
After announcing the changes, Dumbledore remained standing, clearly with more to say. The buzzing in the Great Hall gradually subsided as students anticipated the Sorting Hat's song and Dumbledore's peculiar behavior, hoping to find some answers.
"Last year, Voldemort and his followers caused chaos and suffering. Fortunately, we don't have to endure a decade-long war like the last one, sacrificing so much of what we hold dear. I hope, as we celebrate, you take a moment—right now—to reflect on what the war has taught us."
There followed an extremely long minute.
"I'm sure each of you has your own thoughts. Remember them. They will help you grow and discern right from wrong. A person's thoughts change with their experiences, and that's normal. I still remember my Sorting ceremony vividly: the Sorting Hat made its decision almost immediately. But I didn't know where it would place me... One thing is certain, however: paranoia leads to extremes and stirs conflict."
Dumbledore's words came to an abrupt end.
"Alright, you'll have plenty of time to ponder these troubling questions later, but for now, it's important to rest. I see some of you yawning, so... good night."
Chairs scraped against the floor as Harry and the others stood up, their minds already drifting to the warm, cozy beds. Then he saw Professor Hup gesturing to him with a serious expression.
He snapped to attention.
"What's going on, Harry?" Ron yawned, while Hermione had already run off to guide the first-year students.
Harry gave him a deep look.
"If... well, if I don't come back, I left some things in my trunk..."
"What are you talking about?" Ron rubbed his stomach.
"...Remember, the trunk."
This chapter was not just filler; the author put a lot of thought into it, sacrificing many brain cells.
(End of Chapter)
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