The young wizards were enjoying the delicious food, chatting cheerfully.
The teachers also exchanged a few words occasionally during the meal, strengthening their bonds as colleagues.
Of course, with the exception of a certain greasy, black-haired man.
Snape swallowed his food in very small bites, keeping his gaze fixed on the Gryffindor table most of the time—or more accurately, pinned on Harry.
“Minerva, congratulations.
That boy entered your Gryffindor house,” Sprout said to McGonagall with a chuckle.
McGonagall gently set down her knife and fork.
“As for Harry, it seemed the Sorting Hat wanted to place him in Slytherin.” Shaking her head, McGonagall said as if casually: “But I heard Harry muttering the whole time: ‘Not Slytherin, not Slytherin…'” Hearing McGonagall’s whisper, Snape’s face twitched violently.
He spoke slowly, his tone slightly cold: “He is not suited for Slytherin either.” Snape’s gaze on Harry grew even heavier, but Harry didn’t look toward the staff table once, so Snape never saw those emerald green eyes.
While Snape sat there in his own world, McGonagall had already raised her glass to clink with Professor Flitwick.
“Filius, I must also congratulate you.
Ravenclaw has gained an excellent student.” Filius Flitwick, Dean of Ravenclaw and a Master of Charms.
“Oh, Minerva, are you referring to that boy named Lucien?” McGonagall nodded and took a sip of red wine.
“Yes, I believe you will like this student.
His talent is…
well, quite remarkable.” At this point, McGonagall felt a pang of regret that Lucien hadn’t been sorted into Gryffindor.
If Lucien had gone to Gryffindor, perhaps in a few decades, the Wizarding World would have gained another great wizard who graduated from Gryffindor.
Hearing McGonagall’s evaluation, Flitwick was very surprised.
He knew the character of this colleague he had worked with for many years.
Minerva would praise a student’s seriousness or commend their hard work, but she rarely praised a student’s talent so directly and explicitly.
This meant Professor McGonagall not only approved of Lucien’s attitude toward learning but also greatly admired his magical talent.
This piqued Flitwick’s curiosity even more.
“Thank you, Minerva.
I will pay more attention to that boy.” Beside them, Sprout suddenly turned her head and asked McGonagall: “I just remembered, isn’t Lucien the student who bought a huge pile of books at Flourish and Blotts that day?” “Yes, Pomona.” “Hehe, it’s good to like reading.
He’s truly a student of our Ravenclaw.” “…” At the Ravenclaw table, Lucien had finished his meal and took a sip of his juice.
He looked up and happened to see Hermione looking his way, so he raised his glass in a distant toast.
Having been caught, Hermione hurriedly looked down and also raised her juice to return the toast.
Then Hermione held the cup and drank, hiding her blushing little face.
Though at this distance, Lucien couldn’t see it anyway.
The Asian girl to Lucien’s right was suddenly tapped by her roommate, who whispered in her ear: “Hey, Cho, he’s finished eating.
If you don’t start a conversation, I’ll go instead.” The girl called Cho pushed her roommate away, her pretty face slightly flushed.
“I know, I know, don’t rush me!” Giving her roommate a look, Cho turned to face Lucien.
“Hello, Lucien.
Let’s introduce ourselves.
I’m Cho Chang, I started school a year before you.” As Cho introduced herself, a hint of surprise flashed in Lucien’s eyes.
This was Cho?
She was quite different from her image in the movies.
The Cho before him was a beautiful girl with a typical Eastern elegance.
Her cascading black hair made her skin look even whiter.
There were a few light freckles on the bridge of her nose, but they didn’t spoil her beauty; instead, they added a touch of playfulness and cuteness.
“Hello, Cho, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” Lucien gave a flawless, polite smile.
Cho gave a shallow smile, revealing her white teeth.
“You’ve just started school.
If there’s anything you don’t understand, you can come and ask me.” “Mm, thank you.” The roommate beside Cho suddenly pounced onto her back, her chin resting on Cho’s shoulder: “Hey, hey, junior, are you interested in Quidditch?
I’m telling you, Cho isn’t just a great beauty; she’s also our house’s Quidditch Seeker!
Do you want to try joining the team?
We’re short on people.” A blush appeared on Cho’s cheeks.
“Marietta!
Who tries to recruit someone the moment they meet?
Why don’t you join yourself?” Marietta pressed against Cho’s cheek and said as if it were obvious: “Don’t you know my Flying Class grades?
Besides, boys are usually better at sports, right, junior?” As she spoke, Marietta even winked at Lucien.
“Quidditch is quite interesting, but I never had the chance to come into contact with it before.” Lucien avoided Marietta’s question, but the latter clearly didn’t intend to let it go.
“Being interested is a good thing!
Quidditch is so much fun!
When you want to learn, ask Cho to teach you.” Marietta even pushed Cho forward a bit, bringing her closer to Lucien.
Lucien instead leaned back slightly, maintaining a polite distance.
“Hehe, if there’s an opportunity.” Suddenly, the leftovers on the table vanished with a whoosh, and the tabletop became as clean as new.
Dumbledore’s sonorous voice rang out in the hall: “Children, the feast is about to end.
I have a few notices to announce.
First, the Forbidden Forest is strictly off-limits to students.
Second…” Because they were all full and satisfied, the young wizards listened patiently to Old Dumbledore’s speech, though it was only a few sentences—the usual common rules.
“Now, to conclude the feast, let us sing the school song!” Dumbledore used his wand as a conductor’s baton, and dancing illusory musical notes flowed through the air, weaving between the teachers and students.
When the chorus ended, Dumbledore even wiped a tear from the corner of his eye.
“Every time I see such a scene, it moves me.” Watching this from below, Lucien could only smile bitterly.
He’s an old man who has lived for a century, yet his emotions are still so abundant.
Hmm, actually it makes sense.
A large part of the magical effects in this world depends on the wizard’s emotions.
Dumbledore claimed that the most powerful magic in the world is love.
As the strongest wizard of the age, it didn’t seem to be a problem for Old Dumbledore to be so emotional.
Dumbledore announced the end of the feast, and the new students were to be led back to their respective house common rooms by their prefects.
The Ravenclaw prefect was a tall boy named Robert Hilliard, with golden curly hair and thick black-rimmed glasses.
He didn’t have the air of a nerd, however, and instead introduced things to his juniors with a cheerful face: “Welcome, everyone, to Ravenclaw.
Our house emblem is an eagle, an eagle that soars high in the sky.
This isn’t an exaggeration, but our house truly has the cleverest witches and wizards…” Amidst Robert’s non-stop introduction, the new students arrived at Hogwarts’ West Tower.
Climbing the spiral staircase to the very top, an eagle-shaped bronze door knocker appeared before everyone.
“If five brilliant wizards obtain 100 Galleons and propose plans in sequence.
First, the first one proposes a distribution plan, then the five vote.
The plan only passes if more than half agree; otherwise, he will be thrown into a Dragon’s nest.
As the first wizard, how should you distribute them to obtain the most Galleons?” As if sensing someone approaching, a mysterious, hollow voice suddenly came from the door knocker.
Robert stepped forward and patted the knocker.
“Everyone, behind this door is our Ravenclaw common room.
However, to enter, you must correctly answer the question it poses.
How about it?
Does anyone want to try?” A group of young wizards began to whisper.
“Is entering the Ravenclaw common room this much trouble?” “If we can’t answer, don’t we have to sleep outside?” “In this problem, no matter what plan the first person proposes, won’t it be rejected by the others in the end, and then he’ll be fed to a Dragon?” “Merlin’s socks, is it too late for me to change houses now?” “…” One young wizard said timidly: “I don’t want a single Galleon, I’ll give them all to the others.
Is that okay?” The hollow voice still came from the knocker: “Incorrect answer.” That young wizard looked embarrassed and stepped back.
Another young wizard with a buzz cut stepped out, looking disdainful: “Isn’t this simple?
Just four Reducto curses, and won’t the Galleons all be mine?” Silence.
The whole area was silent for a few seconds.
A voice came from the door knocker once again: “Azkaban.” Instantly, a circle of empty space formed around the buzz-cut wizard.
Lucien also looked this buzz-cut fellow up and down.
This is material for Gryffindor or Slytherin; why was he sent here?
The Sorting Hat is truly unreliable.
Robert shook his head and laughed, trying to smooth things over: “Haha, sometimes power is also the most direct way to solve a problem.
In the Wizarding World, knowledge and power are often equal.” Robert also felt the question from the door knocker today was a bit difficult, at least not something these eleven-year-old children could solve.
So he turned around, preparing to answer the knocker—he had to at least lead his juniors inside.
Just as Robert was about to speak, a boy’s voice rang out behind him.
“Give the fifth wizard 2 Galleons, and the third wizard 1 Galleon.
The remaining 97 Galleons.
All belong to me.” Hearing this answer, Robert was incredibly surprised and was about to turn around to see which junior it was.
The door to the common room had already slowly swung open.
The hollow voice came from the door knocker: “May your wisdom shine like the stars!”