days at Hogwarts

Chapter 563 The Real Problem

The auditorium was filled with four long college tables, and above the dome was a dark ceiling without stars, just like the dark clouds covering the starry sky outside. Candles floated in the air and burned quietly, illuminating the few silver-white ghosts dotted in the auditorium and the excited faces of the students.

The young wizards happily exchanged news about their summer vacation, greeted friends from other colleges loudly, and examined each other's new hairstyles and new clothes.

Not long after Harry and Ron walked in, they were pulled by Dean and Seamus to sit in the middle of the long table. Next to them were Parvati and Lavender, as well as a group of people who were eager to know the inside information. They greeted Harry enthusiastically.

"Come here, Harry, sit here!" Seamus pulled Harry's arm and asked nervously, "What are those things in the newspaper about?"

"Which one are you talking about?" Harry slowly picked up the cup and took a sip. The hot pumpkin juice was delicious.

"Oh my!" Dean was so anxious that he pushed Seamus away and asked impatiently, "Has Dumbledore really lost his mind? Is the mysterious man an illusion after you were cursed?"

These questions seemed like some kind of sound-eliminating magic. As soon as Dean asked them, the little wizards nearby fell silent tacitly and pricked up their ears, expecting Harry to give them a clear answer.

"Well..." Harry drank a few sips of pumpkin juice slowly. He chatted with Loren and Hermione all the way. He knew very well that there was no answer to these questions, or the real answer was -

"Before that, I also have a question for you to answer."

Seamus blinked in confusion, "What?"

"Do you believe Dumbledore, or do you believe what the Ministry of Magic says in the newspapers?"

The little wizards looked around, staring at each other, stunned for a moment.

"..."

Loren took Hermione to find a quiet seat at the end of the long table as usual. As soon as they sat down, they saw half of a silver-white translucent head sticking out of the empty plate in front of them. He smiled and greeted Nick, who was almost headless:
"Well, Sir Nicholas, how was your summer? Did you go to Kent to see your widow friend again?"

"What widow friend? It's Ms. Griff!" Nick, who was almost headless, turned black and retorted loudly, "Don't believe those nonsense Myrtle said. Ms. Griff and I are just ordinary friends!"

"Well... of course I believe that, just ordinary friends."

Loren's face was full of conviction, but the tone of his words made the little wizards around him look at him sideways. They couldn't help but look at Nick, who was almost headless, making strange clicking sounds and looking at him weirdly.

"Merlin's stinky boots, it's really unpleasant to chat with you..." The silver-white translucent head looked more and more stinky. It sank under the table after mumbling something, leaving only a slightly embarrassed sentence, "I'm going to tease those freshmen."

While the little wizards were chattering about the summer vacation that had just passed, the professors took their seats as guests of honor one by one.

Dumbledore sat in the golden high-back chair in the middle, wearing a dark purple robe covered with silver stars and a matching hat. His long, fluffy white beard hung smoothly in front of him, and he looked very kind.

Hagrid's huge figure was particularly eye-catching. Everyone could see the scars on his face that had not yet healed. It seemed that he had rolled all the way from the third floor stairs to the entrance hall, which was only a minor injury for him.

Snape, Sprout and Professor Flitwick sat together, whispering to each other, their eyes occasionally falling on a strange witch next to them.

Every little wizard knew very well that he was the new professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts, who was short and fat, with short curly gray-brown hair, a perpetually exaggerated smile on his face, drooping eyelids and bulging eyes, just like Neville's pet Riffle.

"She is the new professor?" "She is said to be the Senior Undersecretary of the Ministry of Magic. Her last name is Umbridge."

"I've never heard of him. I can tell from the sound of him that he's a half-blood wizard from a small place."

"..."

At the long table of Slytherin House, a group of little witches who loved to dress up were discussing in low voices. The little witch sitting at the front of the table had the loudest voice, which could almost be heard at the guest of honor seat.

"Ahem, ahem..." Pansy Parkinson glanced at Malfoy who was sitting not far away and cleared her throat to attract someone's attention. "Did you notice that her bow is really ugly?"

Daphne Greengrass nodded quickly and agreed in a shrill, sarcastic voice, "Yes, and that pink cardigan, did she dig it out of a pyramid last century? It's too old-fashioned."

"I have to say, that ugly bow goes really well with that tacky sweater."

"Ha ha ha ha……"

Umbridge's toad-like eyelids kept trembling. She was so angry that her face turned pale, but she couldn't get angry. She picked up the goblet, put it to her lips and took a sip, pinching her throat and saying to Dumbledore, "The Sorting Ceremony should have started, Headmaster. I can't wait any longer!"

"Of course, no one is looking forward to it more than me."

Just as he finished speaking, the door leading to the hall was pushed open, and the first-year students, led by Professor McGonagall, who looked curious, walked into the hall and stood in the empty seats in front of the guest of honor. The two unlucky guys who fell into the water stood on the far right, their clothes had been steamed dry, but the ends of their hair were still wet, and they were still in shock.

Put out the stools and the Sorting Hat.

The young wizards in the audience had nostalgic looks in their eyes. The buzzing conversation in the auditorium gradually died down. When the last whisper disappeared, the whole room was so quiet that you could hear the sound of a spoon falling to the ground.

The dirty, gray hat slowly swayed, and the frayed brim of the hat opened a wide gap, just like the singer opening his mouth:

"I was a new hat long ago, before Hogwarts was built.
The four founders of the Noble Academy thought they would never part ways..."

The young wizards gradually realized that something was wrong. This year's lyrics were completely different from the previous ones. Each of them had heard the Sorting Hat's song more than once. Although there were some minor changes every few years, the main content of the lyrics remained the same. But now, all the lyrics had changed.

"I have divided you into different houses because my duties cannot be changed.

But this year I want to say a few more words, please listen carefully to my new songs..."

Recalling the rumors published in newspapers and the slander against Dumbledore by the Ministry of Magic throughout the summer, some young wizards, with the bright candlelight reflected in their eyes, held their breath involuntarily, and the scales in their hearts gradually tilted towards one end.

"Our Hogwarts is in danger, and enemies outside the school are waiting for us.

We must be closely united internally, otherwise everything will fall apart from within.

I have spoken to you, I have sounded the alarm..."

(End of this chapter)