"But you had three pumpkin pies, five pieces of pineapple jam, two big mugs of chocolate milk, and a handful of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans this afternoon!" Ginny, sitting to Hermione's right, widened her eyes, clearly shocked by Ron's somewhat exaggerated appetite.
"...Did I?"
Ron scratched his head, wondering if he had eaten a flavor of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans that boosted his appetite.
"Of course you did, but my foolish brother, are you really that hungry?"
Fred appeared out of nowhere, wiping his damp red hair with a towel, mysteriously lowering his voice as he spoke.
"...No, I'm not."
Ron frowned, feeling that things weren't that simple; he knew too well the tricks of his two brothers.
"What a shame..." Fred sighed, and just when Ron thought he was about to give up on messing with him, Fred spoke again, "These three Sickles will have to go into someone else's pocket—"
"Exactly, we thought the fat should remain within family—" George also appeared, sighing as well.
"!"
Ron's interest was piqued, the allure of money was simple and powerful—
...
"...They want to trick Ron into trying their new product."
Ginny wrinkled her nose, whispering to Harry and Hermione. By this time, Ron had already been coaxed by the twins into signing a contract at the cost of five Sickles per trial, with a satisfied smile on his face. But Ginny winked at the other two—
"Actually, they told me the original price was a Galleon per trial—"
"Where did they get so much money from?"
Harry asked curiously. After all, the Weasley family wasn't wealthy, yet before the Quidditch match, they had managed to finance a near forty-Galleon bet, "And weren't the Galleons they got from Ludo Bagman fake?!"
Everyone knew about it—
Ludo Bagman paid with Leprechaun gold, and by the evening, those Galleons had disappeared, which made Fred angrily declare that he would get justice!
"A senior sponsored them, said he believed in their joke shop and wanted to be their 'angel investor.'"
Hermione pulled Crookshanks out of her hood, laying him across her lap, gently combing through his rain-tangled fur.
"...Alright."
Harry muzzily nodded, then looked towards the staff table not far away, "I just want to know when the Sorting will start—" There were noticeably more empty seats than usual—of course, Hagrid was still leading the young wizards struggling by the Black Lake.
Professor McGonagall was probably cleaning up Peeves' mess in the foyer, Professor Flitwick was leading the younger students of the other houses, Professor Sprout was discussing something with Professor Sinistra of the Astronomy department, Senior William was playing cards with Professor Lupin, and the greasy-haired Snape was still staring blankly... Wait, Harry's eyes widened.
William, why was he sitting at the staff table?
And who were all those extra empty chairs for?!
"The senior said he was a... special advisor for the Eight-Team Tournament."
Hermione seemed to have noticed the "seismic" changes in Harry's pupils and helped to explain.
At that moment, with another clap of thunder outside, a forked lightning struck across the magically enchanted ceiling.
"Oh, hurry up." Ron, sitting next to Harry, sighed, "I could eat an entire Hippogriff right now."
Just as he spoke, the side door of the Great Hall opened, and everyone immediately quieted down. Professor Flitwick's small figure appeared, followed by young wizards in two rows and two witches who appeared much older—
"Let's give a warm welcome to our friends from Uagadou and Ilvermorny—"
Dumbledore's voice rang out, prompting applause. At this moment, Harry looked quickly, noticing that the wizards on the left wore a series of brown robes, their skin mostly dark as the bricks in the Slytherin Dungeon, their thick lips and explosive hairstyles making it clear where they hailed from—
Uagadou, undoubtedly the magic school located in Africa.
"I heard they play Quidditch on big trees?" Harry heard Ginny whisper softly.
The boy looked to the other side of the group, where the clothing style was much more flamboyant; a motley of blue and red jostling together, everyone's robes fastened with an ornate golden brooch to pin down the uniform—these had to be Ilvermorny students.
After the applause, Dumbledore didn't offer any further introductions, instead instructing Flitwick to lead the students to take their seats, while the two middle-aged witches walked to the staff table, sitting in the two empty seats beside William. They exchanged smiles and greetings.
Those young wizards from the two academies scattered and sat down, the students from Uagadou joined the Hufflepuff long table, while the Ilvermorny young wizards distinctly chose according to their robes—
The ones in red sat at the Gryffindor long table, while those in blue naturally went to Ravenclaw.
Hogwarts' little witches and wizards stared curiously at these students from other schools, but before they could start talking, the door was pushed open again—this time it was Professor McGonagall, leading a long line of first-year students to the top of the hall—
If Harry, Ron, and Neville were merely soaking wet, compared to these first-year students, it was nothing at all.
They looked like they hadn't come by boat, but had swum directly from the lake.
Next, Professor McGonagall placed a three-legged stool on the ground in front of the new students, and put a ragged, patched pointed wizard hat on the stool.
So, the first-year students stared blankly at it, every little wizard from each school stared at it, everyone was staring at it. For a moment, the hall was silent, then a seam near the brim opened like a mouth, and the hat suddenly began to sing—
"It was more than a thousand years ago, I was just woven into shape, by four famous wizards... I want to see your mind, judge which house you belong to!"
"Clap, clap—"
William joined everyone in clapping, then quietly complained to Lupin, "This hat sang two or three times in my ear before. Who knows why, after nearly a thousand years, it still has so many new words?"
At this time, McGonagall unfolded a large roll of parchment.
"Next, when I call your name, put the hat on your head and sit on the stool." She told the first-year students, "When the hat announces the house, you should go sit at the corresponding table."
Having said that, she straightened up—
"Stuart Ackley!"
...
There were no surprises at the sorting ceremony. Finally, as the call for Kevin Whitby to be sorted into Hufflepuff rang out, the sorting ceremony was finally over, Professor McGonagall packed up the sorting hat and stool, and left the hall with them.
"Finally—"
William already picked up the chopsticks specially prepared, Norbert and Kakarong poked their heads halfway out of his collar, eagerly looking at the golden plates in front of him.
"I have only two words for you." Professor Dumbledore stood up, smiling warmly at all the students, spreading his arms in a welcoming gesture, his deep voice echoing in the hall, "Eat up!"
"Not wasting words is a good civilization."
William picked up a chunk of sauced meat, and under the eager gaze of the two little dragons, mercilessly stuffed it into his own mouth.
...
"Ah, that's much better now."
At the Gryffindor long table, Ron stuffed his mouth with mashed potatoes, speaking unclearly.
"You should know you're quite lucky, tonight's feast almost fell through."
Nearly Headless Nick looked a bit mournful at these eager little wizards, seemingly not understanding why they viewed the meal as more important than the sorting ceremony, "There was a mess in the kitchen earlier."
"What do you mean? What happened?"
Harry, with a big piece of steak in his mouth, asked somewhat unclearly.
"Naturally, it was Peeves causing trouble."
Nick said, shaking his head, which made his head wobble dangerously—so he quickly held his neck, "Arguing endlessly over that matter, you know, it wanted to attend the feast since Bloody Baron had left, hence I mentioned Mr. William—then finally it didn't insist."
"No wonder, just felt Peeves seemed angry over something."
Hermione nodded, seeming somewhat understanding, but Peeves apparently still provoked William, "So, what did it do in the kitchen?"
"Oh, it's the same old tricks." Nick shrugged, "Causing destruction, creating chaos, throwing pots and pans everywhere, the whole kitchen was flooded with soup, the house-elves were scared out of their wits—"
"House-elves?" Hermione looked at Nick somewhat puzzled, "Right here at Hogwarts?"
...
Soon, even the after-dinner desserts were cleared away, and even the last remaining crumbs on the plates disappeared, leaving them sparkling clean again.
At this time, Dumbledore stood up once again, and the buzz of conversation in the hall suddenly stopped, leaving only the sound of howling wind and the pounding rain on the windowpanes.
"Alright!" Dumbledore, stroking his beard, smiled at everyone, "Now that we are all well-fed and watered, I must once again request your attention as I announce a few notices concerning the coming school year."
"Mr. Filch, the caretaker, wants me to tell everyone that this year, several new items have been banned from the castle... Also, as before, I must remind everyone that the Forbidden Forest is off-limits to students, and Hogsmeade village, which is restricted to third-year students and above."
Dumbledore's mouth twitched a few times.
Then he continued, "I must also regretfully inform everyone that there will be no Quidditch Cup tournament this year."