When the clamor in the Great Hall gradually subsided, all eyes turned toward the center of the High Table.
Professor Albus Dumbledore stood up, his silver-white hair and beard haloed under the candlelight, spreading his arms with a warm smile.
“Welcome!” His voice reached everyone clearly.
“Welcome to a new school year at Hogwarts!” He gave a brief opening remark before getting straight to the point.
“Our caretaker, Mr.
Filch, has asked me to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors.” He paused, his gaze sweeping over the hall from behind his half-moon spectacles.
“Furthermore, anyone who does not wish to suffer an unexpected, painful death should avoid the fourth-floor corridor on the right-hand side.” This statement caused a ripple of anxious murmurs.
Stelle quietly noted down the location, as if dropping a pin on a map.
She wasn’t afraid; she simply felt that any place requiring an explicit ban must contain something truly special.
Next, Dumbledore mentioned the Quidditch trials and the rules regarding the Forbidden Forest.
“And now,” Dumbledore said in a voice made resonant with Sonorus, “before we fall to on our feast, let us sing the school song!” He drew his wand and gave it a gentle flick like a conductor.
Golden words floated into the air to form the lyrics.
“Pick your favorite tune,” he announced.
“And off we go!” The entire Great Hall instantly erupted into a bizarre chorus.
Standing among the Hufflepuff first-years, Stelle listened to the wildly off-pitch singing around her.
She tried humming along haphazardly, but realizing she was completely out of tune, she happily gave up and spent the time enjoying everyone’s hilarious facial expressions while singing.
When Dumbledore cheerfully used his wand to conduct the tempo—which was as slow as a funeral march—Stelle let out a quiet giggle.
The song ended in a chaotic finish.
Dumbledore wiped tears of laughter from his eyes.
“Ah, music, a magic beyond all we do here!
And now—dig in!” He clapped his hands, and the long tables were instantly piled high with gleaming platters: roast beef, roast chicken, pork chops, sausages, along with countless vegetables, bread, and gravy.
Stelle picked up a roast chicken leg and took a bite.
It tasted surprisingly good.
She then tried some Yorkshire pudding, which was light, fluffy, and delicious.
When dinner came to an end…
The Hufflepuff prefect, a tall and friendly-looking fifth-year boy, stood up and clapped his hands.
His voice was warm and resonant: “Hufflepuff first-years!
Follow me, please.
I’ll take you to our common room!” The first-years gathered around, chattering excitedly, their faces filled with anticipation.
Stelle quietly followed in line, her steps light and swift, like a little badger following its mother back to the sett.
Her grey hair swayed gently with her movement.
Her grey hair looked soft under the torchlight, and her golden eyes curiously took in the moving staircases and whispering portraits all around.
The prefect led them down the stone steps toward the lower levels of the castle, finally coming to a halt at the end of a corridor in front of a stack of large wooden barrels set in a shadowy stone recess.
Far from the noise of the main staircase, it was exceptionally quiet here.
“Here we are,” the prefect turned around, a subtle sly smile on his face as he lowered his voice, as if sharing a grand secret.
“Entering our common room doesn’t require a complex password, but it does require a bit of a musical ear.” He pointed to the second barrel from the bottom, right in the middle of the second row.
“Remember, you must tap it to the rhythm of ‘Helga Hufflepuff.'” Demonstrating, he raised his hand and used his knuckles to tap out a light, distinct rhythm on that specific barrel.
As soon as he finished tapping, the lid of one barrel swung open, revealing a fairly wide entryway filled with warm light and cheerful laughter from inside.
The entryway sloped downward underground, but looked clean and inviting.
“Wow!” the first-years let out low exclamations of wonder.
Stelle tilted her head slightly, watching the self-opening barrel lid, a look of “that’s so cool” on her face.
“Come on!” The prefect climbed in first, his voice echoing from inside.
“Be careful not to tap the wrong barrel or the wrong rhythm, or else…” He deliberately drew out his words until all the first-years watched him nervously, before adding with a grin, “…or else you’ll be drenched in vinegar!
It’s a little test of our curiosity!” The children let out a ripple of nervous yet thrilled giggles.
Stelle followed at the back of the group and squeezed through the barrel opening.
Inside was a gently sloping earthen tunnel with smooth, well-finished walls illuminated by bright lamps.
After walking a short distance, the space suddenly opened up.
The Hufflepuff common room was a thoroughly comforting place.
Soft yellow armchairs were placed everywhere, polished woodwork gleamed under the warm light, and black badger motifs on the carpets looked lively and loyal.
The entire room felt like a safe, cozy burrow baked in sunlight, even though they were clearly underground.
“This place is amazing!” a first-year whispered.
Stelle stood in the warm room.
She didn’t analyze anything; she just felt that the lighting was soft and the air smelled like something that made you want to relax.
Her gaze swept over the cheerful plant decorations and settled on the flickering flames in the fireplace, watching them for a while.
The prefect explained the rules and dormitory assignments.
When he mentioned, “We are very close to the kitchens—just behind that painting of the fruit bowl, give the pear a gentle tickle,” Stelle’s eyes visibly lit up.
Her attention was completely captured by the kitchen and the laughing pear, like a puppy hearing a dinner bell.
After the prefect dismissed them, most of the first-years were still immersed in excitement, gathering in small groups in the common room to chat or curiously exploring every corner of their new environment.
Stelle’s footsteps, however, headed straight for the small path leading to the kitchen.
She stood by the passage, hesitating for a moment, seemingly recalling what the prefect had said.
To her, exploring a place full of food was clearly a very high priority.
However, just as she was about to set off, an enormous yawn burst uncontrollably from her mouth.
The events of the entire day washed over her like a tide—from climbing out of that fateful trash can, to the bustle of Diagon Alley, the train journey, the boat ride across the lake, and the information-packed Sorting Ceremony and feast that had just ended.
Even with energy as boundless as Stelle’s, she felt a profound weariness at this moment, as if her internal stamina bar had finally hit empty.
She blinked her somewhat dry golden eyes and stole another glance at that tempting doorway.
“Kitchens, tomorrow for sure,” she muttered under her breath, then decisively turned around and headed toward the girls’ dormitory corridor.
Following the names on the doors, she quickly found her room.
Pushing the door open, she found a warm and comfortable room furnished with four four-poster beds draped with hangings.
The other three girls were already there—Hannah Abbott, a round-faced, friendly, and slightly shy girl; Susan Bones, who had red hair and a gentle expression; and Megan Jones, who looked at the newcomer with curiosity.
“Hi!
Are you in our dorm too?
I’m Hannah Abbott,” Hannah greeted warmly.
Susan also smiled and nodded in greeting.
Megan asked directly, “Are you Stelle, the one who made the Sorting Hat think for five minutes?
Without a surname?” Stelle nodded, walked over to the empty bed, and set down the small luggage bag she had been carrying.
She looked a bit sleepy, but she still turned around to face her three new roommates.
She fell silent for two seconds, then spoke in a tone tinged with a touch of proud confidence: “You can call me…
the Galactic Baseballer.” A moment of silence descended upon the room.
Hannah blinked, Susan looked a bit bewildered, and Megan raised an eyebrow, seemingly judging whether this was a joke.
Stelle looked at their clueless expressions and blinked, as if only just realizing that this introduction might not translate well here.
She offered an embarrassed smile, rubbed her eyes with clear sleepiness, and added in a more ordinary tone: “Just kidding.
I’m Stelle.
Just Stelle.” “Oh, oh!
Hi, Stelle!” Hannah reacted immediately, a smile returning to her face.
“I’m Hannah, this is Susan, and that’s Megan.
Welcome!” “Welcome,” Susan said softly as well.
Megan nodded thoughtfully.
“Stelle…
that’s a very unique name.” After the simple introductions, sleepiness wrapped around her like something tangible.
Stelle didn’t join in the girls’ excited discussion about the day’s events.
She silently changed into her pajamas, climbed into bed, and tucked herself into the soft duvet.
The pillow and duvet carried a clean, warm scent of sunshine and citrus, feeling immensely comfortable.
She heard Hannah still softly saying, “To think that Harry Potter is actually in our year,” heard Susan’s gentle response, heard Megan’s rational analysis…
These voices gradually grew blurry, like hearing through a warm layer of water.
Before she sank completely into dreamland, her final thought was: “Hannah, Susan, Megan…
roommates.
People…
seem okay.” And then, clutching the wand resting by her pillow, like a small ship finally anchored in a safe harbor, she fell into a peaceful sleep on her first night at Hogwarts.