Chapter 618 An Unusual Dinner

It was September 1st, evening, and it was rainy.

The Hogwarts Express pulled into Hogsmeade Station.

Ron and Hermione had to brave the rain and maintain order on the muddy road, carrying the overexcited little wizards one by one onto the carriage. Harry deliberately dawdled until the platform was almost completely empty before he found a chance to slip out. So they were almost the last group to enter the carriage.

"Oh, those little brats are really annoying." Ron complained, "I suddenly want to eat French food, what about you?"

"Anything is fine." Hermione said a little tiredly.

The carriage started moving. It was cloudy outside, and the light was darker than usual at this time. The rain hit the roof and rolled into the carriage, making Harry shiver. The carriage finally stopped at the stone steps leading to the oak door. Hermione, who had been dozing off, woke up and jumped off the carriage, "Hurry up, you two!" "

She must be starving." Ron said to Harry in a low voice.

The three of them joined the crowd, making the stone steps filled with water tinkle. The bright entrance hall was in sight. Harry couldn't wait to sit in the hall and enjoy the food. This thought injected a little heat into his cold body, and he climbed the last few steps in one breath.

A pair of shoes blocked his way. .

Harry raised his head and looked at Professor Happ's stiff face without any extra expression. An inexplicable fear came over him, pulling his internal organs in pain. Ron and Hermione turned their heads and looked at them in surprise.

"Professor?" Harry swallowed his saliva.

"Harry, stay after the dinner. Headmaster Dumbledore and I will take you somewhere." Felix said. He had been blowing the cold wind at the door for nearly half an hour, and almost thought Harry had missed the train.

Valen's fur was soaked, and finally he couldn't stand it and ran to the hall.

Harry opened his mouth and swallowed what he was about to say, "Okay."

Felix nodded at him and took him to the hall. "Professor?" Felix stopped and looked at Harry. Harry was shivering with cold. "Should I make any preparations..."

"No, oh, you'd better bring your wand."

Harry walked into the hall with heavy steps.

The dining table was in a mess. When he sat down, Ron and Hermione gave him a puzzled look. Harry shook his head. He couldn't help but look at the professor's seat. Professor Happ was whispering something to Headmaster Dumbledore over Professor McGonagall's empty chair. Headmaster Dumbledore nodded seriously.

His heart sank bit by bit.

"I've already told Harry that after the dinner is over..."

"I know." Dumbledore said in a deep voice. He picked up a fork and knocked on the goblet. The crisp knocking sound echoed in the hall. The noise gradually subsided. The students focused their eyes on the professor's seat. Some people who had been chatting with their classmates before noticed something unusual.

"Two new professors!" Seamus said in surprise. He counted them one by one according to the subject, with a puzzled look on his face. "Why is there one more person..."

"Professor McGonagall's seat is empty!"

...

"Sitting next to Snape is Mr. Slughorn, and sitting next to Professor Happ is Mr. Bagshot." Harry whispered.

Hermione took a breath lightly, looking a little uneasy.

"What's wrong?"

"The number of chairs is wrong, there is one extra--"

At this time, the door to the hall opened, and Professor McGonagall led a row of little wizards in and asked them to line up in front of the staff table. Then, she put a dirty hat on a small round stool and stood aside waiting.

The Sorting Hat sang loudly:

I once wore the head of the most outstanding duelist,

even though I was not given life at that time;

I am older than everything in the castle,

but don't think I will never change.

The four founders of the great school,

their deeds have been passed down for thousands of years;

who in the world knows them well enough?

Think about who carries their thoughts!

Godric Gryffindor, an unbeatable duelist,

Rowena Ravenclaw, her wisdom is unmatched,

Helga Hufflepuff, generous and kind,

Salazar Slytherin, shrewd and unscrupulous.

Although their bodies have decayed,

their ideals are reborn in the students;

the four houses have produced many talents and

together made Hogwarts famous.

But I want to pour a bucket of cold water on you

. Single ideas can only fight each other.

Courage and recklessness are inseparable,

wisdom and arrogance are close,

kindness and weakness always transform into each other, and

shrewdness and selfishness are only a thought away.

I stand before you now and

tell you the past;

I have fulfilled my duty and told you directly -

now let's start the sorting.

The Sorting Hat did not move after he finished speaking. The hall seemed to have been paused, and after a few seconds, there was a sparse applause. The students whispered, "This is the first time I've heard the Sorting Hat criticize the ideas of the four houses." Ron said in surprise.

"But it does have the qualifications," Harry said, and applauded along with everyone, even though he felt a little strange.

Usually the Sorting Hat only gave the qualities that the four houses valued, and praised the four founders (sometimes with the exception of Slytherin). Last year was different. For the first time, it gave a warning, hoping that the students would unite, but this was because Voldemort was lurking outside the school.

Now that the war is over, Ginny even made a bet with Ron on the train that the Sorting Hat would sing corny praises to people for emerging from the shadow of the war this year.

Professor McGonagall was also a little stunned. She cleared her throat hard, and the whispers below stopped abruptly. She took out a long list of names of freshmen and read out the names one by one -

"Tulsi Ellymo."

"Very distinctive." Grindelwald put down his hand and said softly in the professor's seat.

Felix smiled slightly and swept his eyes across the hall. The students and professors had different reactions to the Sorting Hat Song. For example, Slughorn, who had been loudly trying to build relationships with many professors before, now remained silent and frowned.

He glanced at Dumbledore, and then glanced at Grindelwald with his peripheral vision, his walrus beard trembling.

Perhaps he was weighing whether he would suffer a loss in his heart... Felix thought secretly. He knew that Dumbledore had used teaching positions and providing asylum as an excuse to win over Slughorn, but Voldemort had not fallen at that time, and Slughorn did not want to expose himself to the public.

Now that the war is over, the cunning old walrus can no longer hold back.

But this also brings a benefit. Severus finally got what he wanted and got the position he wanted.

"... Toby Gilbert."

Felix glanced at the Sorting Hat and keenly caught the focus of this year's Sorting Hat Song - the same as last year - calling on students to unite. But the two are different. Last year it was because of external enemies, and this year it may be due to internal reasons. Did

the Sorting Hat hear anything from Dumbledore?

He looked at the interested and leisurely Grindelwald and thought that the direction was quite obvious - the old man's strength had shrunk seriously, and he could only talk. Although Felix had teased Grindelwald about the list of books for this year's Defense Against the Dark Arts class, he did not think that the Dark Lord who had once aspired to rule Muggles would easily succumb to his peace concept.

Using his book as a target for criticism is more like it.

Felix has made up his mind that he must go and listen to two classes when he has time. He has put a lot of thought into his book, and Grindelwald cannot be allowed to interpret it randomly.

"——Hubbard Zenobia."

"Slytherin!"

The sorting ceremony was finally over, and Professor McGonagall came over to pick up the sorting hat and chair——"Wait a moment, Minerva." Dumbledore suddenly spoke, and Professor McGonagall froze in place, hesitantly asked: "Albus?"

Dumbledore stood up swiftly, with brisk steps. He smiled and said: "I'm just a little curious, if it was now... what house would I be sorted into." He picked up the sorting hat, turned his arm around and put it on his head, and sat on the small bench in a somewhat funny way.

The hall was boiling all of a sudden.

Although their stomachs were growling with hunger, the students stood up one after another, tiptoed and looked forward to it. "He's crazy!" Hermione shouted. "No, this is normal!" Harry and Ron said in unison, and all the students looked at Dumbledore without blinking.

"What do you think he wants to do?"

"I don't know, but it would be fun if the Sorting Hat put him in another house!"

"Maybe that's what he wants!"

Dumbledore sat on the small stool in a proper manner, his long white beard dragging on the floor. He closed his eyes and seemed to be communicating with the Sorting Hat, because the crack on the brim of the Sorting Hat opened up in exasperation, and it shouted loudly: "This is against the rules, Dumbledore!"

"Oh, don't be like this... make some concessions..." Dumbledore whispered, and only Professor McGonagall heard this. Her lips were tightly pressed into a line, her fingers kept opening and closing, and she was struggling with whether to forcibly take the Sorting Hat off Dumbledore's head.

She was not sure which thing would become a scandal... so she could only freeze in place, her chest heaving violently.

After a minute or two, the Sorting Hat reluctantly called out the word "Gryffindor".

Dumbledore stood up with satisfaction and handed the Sorting Hat to Professor McGonagall, who looked annoyed. Felix, Grindelwald, and Snape were thoughtful, even though they had completely different ideas.

Felix was looking forward to the speech after the dinner. What would Dumbledore say? Would he support school reform? Grindelwald's preparations for this year were very targeted. Without Dumbledore's tacit approval, there would be no such outrageous book list.

Dumbledore had returned to his seat. He opened his arms and said with a bright smile, as if nothing had happened: "Nothing can better represent my mood at the moment than a big meal. Let's eat happily!"

Then he sat down, and the food fell from the sky.

Grindelwald stared, slightly surprised. He thought Dumbledore would at least say something.

"The headmaster never disappoints in this regard, right, Minerva?" Felix said, happily picking up ribs on the plate, "Maybe we should make a school rule that the speech before the main meal should not exceed ten words."

Professor McGonagall, who had just sat down, snorted softly, looking at Dumbledore sideways.

"It would be better to add one more rule: no sudden madness."

When the last piece of dessert disappeared, Dumbledore stood up again. Felix looked at his headmaster with interest, his eyes lingering on the black gem ring that seemed to grow on his hand. Could it be the resurrection stone? The experience of encountering Xenophilius Lovegood a few weeks ago came to mind.

Unfortunately, they didn't say a few words in total, because Mr. Lovegood seemed to have a stomachache and was in a hurry to find a toilet.

I don't know if his failure in the interview was related to this incident...

"Okay... new students, welcome to school; old students, welcome back to school!" Dumbledore wiped his eyes emotionally, "What awaits you is a new school year of magical education..."

"Administrator Filch asked me to tell everyone... Quidditch selection will be... the list of candidates for the assessment of spells and make-up exams..."

The students listened lazily and drowsy. These were all old talk.

"This year, the school welcomes two new professors, and there are also some minor changes to the existing teaching positions. First, let us welcome Professor Slughorn, who used to work with me and is an experienced professor of Potions..."

"Potions?"

The students opened their eyes wide and stared at the old wizard who stood up and waved to them enthusiastically. He was wearing an exquisite vest, with a belly so big that he couldn't button it, and his bald head reflected the light from above his head as his body turned.

"Sure enough--" Hermione knocked the table lightly with her fist.

"Sure enough what?" Ron asked puzzledly. Like most students, he looked between the new professor and Snape, with an expression of watching a good show.

"Didn't you notice that there is one more professor this year? I thought--"

"At the same time, Professor Bagshot and Professor Snape," Dumbledore said with a normal expression, but his voice was slightly raised, "will jointly serve as professors of the Defense Against the Dark Arts class."

Hermione took a breath.

"It's actually arranged like this! Alas, Professor Snape finally got what he wanted."

The students' discussion became louder. "I only care about who will teach the sixth grade," said Ron. At this time, Professor Bagshot stood up politely to greet him, while Snape just lazily stretched out a hand to win the cheers of the Slytherin students.

Ron grinned and said, "The gap is huge. Although I hate Snape, but compared to a Squib-"

"Ron!" Hermione warned.

Ron shrank his neck, "Okay... I won't say it, but the problem is there, and I can't pretend not to see it. Everyone knows how to choose..."

Dumbledore waited until Grindelwald sat down before continuing, "The two professors will work together. Professor Snape will be responsible for teaching grades one to five, and Professor Bagshot will be responsible for teaching advanced classes..."

Slytherin House booed loudly. They were complaining for their dean.

Even Harry was very surprised. Although only Slytherin students had clearly expressed their opposition, the other three houses had a lukewarm response, but that was because they didn't know that Mr. Bagshot was a Squib. If they knew, they would probably make a scene.

Harry looked at the professor's chair and couldn't help but worry about Mr. Bagshot, but his expression was normal.

In a corner of his heart, Harry secretly breathed a sigh of relief. Although he hadn't taken Professor Bagshot's class yet, at least one thing was certain, he wouldn't have many opportunities to deal with Snape this year.

A thought suddenly occurred to him, maybe Snape chose grades one to five for this reason.

After announcing the position change, Dumbledore still stood there, obviously he had something to say. The buzz in the hall gradually died down, and the students all thought of the Sorting Hat Song and the strange behavior of Headmaster Dumbledore, and perhaps they could hear the answer from his words.

"In the past year, Voldemort and his followers have caused chaos and people have suffered. Fortunately, we don't have to sacrifice too many of our cherished treasures like the last war that lasted for ten years. I hope that everyone can take even a minute to reflect on what the war has brought us after celebrating. What did the war bring us?"

The next minute was extremely long.

"I believe each of you has your own experience. Please remember your thoughts at this moment. It will make you grow and distinguish right from wrong. It is normal for a person's thoughts to change with their own experiences. I still clearly remember the scene of my school sorting: the sorting hat made a decision almost immediately. But just now I didn't know where it would sort me... But one thing is certain, paranoia will make people go to extremes and provoke disputes."

Dumbledore's words stopped abruptly.

"Well, you'll have plenty of time to think about these annoying questions later, but the most urgent thing is to get some rest. I see someone is yawning, so... good night."

Chairs were pushed behind them one by one, and Harry stood up with the others. His mind seemed to have returned to the warm and comfortable bed first, and then he saw Professor Happ waving at him with a serious expression.

He suddenly woke up.

"What's wrong, Harry?" Ron yawned, and Hermione had already run to show the way for the first-year students.

Harry looked at him deeply.

"If... well, I mean I can't come back, I left some things in the box..."

"What are you talking about?" Ron rubbed his stomach. "

... Remember, the box."

The Sorting Hat Song is not a waste of words, it was made up by the author himself, and it killed a lot of brain cells.