While Alistair and Cedric were still whispering to each other, the last first-year was finally Sorted, bringing the ceremony to an end.
Professor McGonagall, who had remained beside the Sorting Hat throughout the entire process, quietly released a breath of relief.
After everything that had happened outside the Great Hall and the Hat’s bizarre suggestion that Alistair belonged in Azkaban, she was simply grateful there was only one Alistair Vance to deal with this year.
At the staff table, Dumbledore rose from his seat and lightly tapped his goblet to attract everyone’s attention.
The enormous Great Hall fell silent almost immediately, and every student turned toward him.
Alistair couldn’t help marveling at the man’s reputation; the room hadn’t quieted merely because he was Headmaster, but because he was Albus Dumbledore.
Dumbledore smiled pleasantly at the hundreds of students watching him.
“Welcome to Hogwarts!
Before we begin our feast, I would like to say a few words.” He paused dramatically before declaring, “Nitwit!
Blubber!
Oddment!
Tweak!” Several first-years stared at him in complete confusion as Dumbledore finished cheerfully, “Thank you!” The older students barely reacted, apparently having grown accustomed to the Headmaster’s strange sense of humor.
Alistair had encountered countless theories about those four words during his previous life.
Some fans believed they were meaningless nonsense, while others tried to connect them with the four Houses, Dumbledore’s personality, or some hidden message.
Alistair had never found any explanation completely convincing, and hearing the words from Dumbledore himself didn’t make them any clearer.
I’ll have to ask him someday, he decided.
If there was actually some deep meaning behind the ridiculous phrase, the man who’d said it was probably the only person who could settle the argument.
The moment Dumbledore gave the signal for the feast to begin, dishes suddenly appeared across all four House tables.
Platters of roast meat, potatoes, vegetables, bread, gravy, and countless other foods materialized where moments earlier there had been only empty plates and cutlery, drawing surprised gasps from several first-years.
Cedric noticed Alistair looking around and explained, “The kitchens are directly below the Great Hall.
The house-elves prepare everything downstairs, and the food is magically transferred to matching dishes up here when the feast starts.” Alistair already knew that from the books, but he widened his eyes anyway.
“That’s amazing.
I knew choosing Hufflepuff was a good decision.” Cedric laughed.
Alistair leaned closer and added, “And you already know everything about this place, so I’ll be relying on you from now on.
Classes, castle shortcuts, homework—anything useful.” The last part was the one that interested him most, though he wisely didn’t emphasize it.
Cedric nodded without hesitation.
“Of course.
We’re friends, aren’t we?” Alistair smiled back, increasingly convinced that becoming friends with Cedric on the platform had been one of his best decisions so far.
Unfortunately, while the two of them had been talking, the rest of the Hufflepuff table had shown no such restraint.
When Alistair finally turned back toward the food, he discovered that several dishes were already half empty.
Most of the Hufflepuffs were eating enthusiastically, some already reaching toward their next choice before they’d finished what was currently on their plates.
Even older students and those wearing prefect badges seemed more focused on dinner than on making formal introductions to the new arrivals.
Alistair silently compared the scene with the nearby Slytherin table and immediately noticed the difference.
The Slytherins appeared far more interested in introductions, family backgrounds, and social standing.
Their conversations had the formal tone of people announcing pedigrees, and Alistair almost expected someone to introduce himself like an ancient hero by naming his father, grandfather, and entire bloodline.
Sure enough, Cassandra’s voice soon carried from the neighboring table.
“My name is Cassandra.
My father is the Head of the Auror Office at the Ministry of Magic.” A small round of approving applause followed, which seemed to satisfy her greatly.
Alistair turned back toward Hufflepuff and decided he preferred people who were more interested in dinner.
He was just thinking that the House’s badger mascot fit its straightforward personality surprisingly well when a head suddenly emerged through the table directly in front of him.
Several first-years screamed and jerked backward, while Alistair merely paused with his fork halfway to his mouth.
After everything he’d seen since arriving in the Wizarding World, a ghost appearing through a table wasn’t nearly enough to frighten him.
He politely nodded.
“Good evening.” The ghost rose farther through the table, revealing a short, cheerful-looking monk in robes.
“Well, that’s unusual!
Most Hufflepuff first-years scream the first time one of us appears.” He laughed.
“The Gryffindors sometimes react more dramatically—I’ve nearly had food thrown through me more than once.” Cedric quickly introduced them.
“Alistair, this is the Fat Friar, Hufflepuff’s House ghost.
Friar, this is Alistair Vance, one of our new first-years.” The Fat Friar looked Alistair over approvingly.
“A handsome young fellow.
Nearly as presentable as Cedric here.” Cedric immediately looked embarrassed, while the ghost continued, “Make sure you look after him, Cedric.
Hufflepuffs take care of their own.” Cedric promised that he would, earning a pleased smile from the Friar before the ghost floated away to greet the rest of the new students.
Alistair watched him leave and finally turned back toward the table, eager to begin eating properly.
What greeted him was devastation.
The table wasn’t literally empty, but the neat arrangement from earlier had disappeared beneath half-finished dishes, spilled sauces, and scattered serving utensils.
A few chicken legs remained nearby, but somebody had covered them in a sauce that looked strange enough to destroy Alistair’s appetite.
Cedric noticed his hesitation.
“Don’t like any of that?” he asked before pushing an untouched steak toward him.
“I ate too much on the train, so I’m already pretty full.
If you want this, you can have it.” Cedric didn’t even finish speaking before Alistair leaned over and hugged him.
“Cedric, you’re officially the best upperclassman in Hogwarts.” Cedric laughed awkwardly as Alistair released him and immediately claimed the steak.
While eating, Alistair began wondering how he could repay him sometime and remembered one of the simplest comfort foods from his previous American life.
Maybe I’ll make him a grilled cheese someday, he thought.
It wasn’t sophisticated, but almost anyone could manage one, and Cedric seemed like the sort of person who would appreciate the effort.
Before Alistair could think about food much longer, Dumbledore rose again.
“Before we continue, I have one new member of staff to introduce.” He extended a hand toward the woman seated near him.
“Professor Ilona will be teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts this year.” Ilona stood gracefully and looked across the Great Hall, while Alistair and the others from the train immediately recognized her.
“Good evening,” Ilona began.
“My name is Ilona, and I’ll be your Defense Against the Dark Arts professor this year.
I’m very pleased to be joining Hogwarts.” Her eyes moved briefly across the students.
“On the journey here, I already had the opportunity to meet a few of you, and I was impressed by the enthusiasm and talent I saw.
I’m looking forward to seeing all of you in class.” When she finished, applause spread through the hall before she returned to her seat.
Quiet conversation immediately followed the announcement.
Beside Alistair, Cedric murmured, “I hope nothing happens to Professor Ilona.” Alistair glanced toward him, and Cedric lowered his voice further.
“The Defense Against the Dark Arts position has a terrible reputation.
Nobody seems to last very long.” Alistair naturally knew that as well, though neither of them realized that the woman they were discussing was Vinda Rosier in disguise.
He merely looked toward the staff table and wondered how Ilona would handle such an unlucky job.
Once everyone had eaten enough of the main course, Dumbledore stood again with an unmistakably pleased expression.
The remains of dinner vanished from the tables in an instant, leaving them perfectly clean.
A moment later, desserts appeared in their place—cakes, pies, puddings, pastries, ice cream, fruit, and more sweets than Alistair could immediately count.
Several students who had claimed to be completely full suddenly discovered that they had room after all.
Dumbledore looked over the Great Hall with a smile.
“I must admit,” he said, “this is always the part of the feast I look forward to most.” Alistair looked at the desserts covering the Hufflepuff table.
For once, he completely agreed with the Headmaster.