Hogwarts, a Scholar Becomes a God

In the Great Hall of Hogwarts, the lights were bright and the voices were full of people.

Sitting in the farthest corner of the rostrum is the tall half-giant Hagrid. Judging from his appearance, he should be greeting Harry Potter.

The short-statured Professor Flitwick sat next to Hagrid. The two were one big and one small, one tall and the other short. The strong contrast made it easy to laugh.

And a professor with a ridiculous scarf on his head was talking to a teacher with greasy black hair, hooked nose, and sallow skin. These two should be Voldemort's pony Quirrell and Snape.

In the center of the rostrum, sitting on a large golden chair is Albus Dumbledore.

Clark recognized the headmaster of Hogwarts at a glance, because the professor was so similar to Gandalf the Berserker of Middle-earth, they both had gleaming silver hair and a long aquiline nose.

But at this time Dumbledore was turning his thumbs alternately, as if he didn't know anything about what just happened. Of course, Clark didn't believe this.

Now there are only three people left waiting to be assigned.

Lisa Dupin is a new Ravenclaw. Then it was Ron's turn. He turned blue now, but in the blink of an eye the hat shouted: "Gryffindor!"

It's just that Clark's influence hasn't passed. He can only rush to the seat next to Harry like a little transparent.

"Very good, Ron, great!" Ron's brother Percy Weasley said in an exaggerated tone, passing Harry.

The last remaining Bryce Shabini was assigned to Slytherin. Professor McGonagall rolled up the parchment, picked up the sorting hat and left, and the entire sorting ceremony came to an end.

At this time, Albus Dumbledore seemed to come back to his senses. He stood up, looked at the students with a smile on his face, and stretched his arms to them. It seemed that there was nothing better than seeing the students come together to make him Much happier.

A warm and broad force spread out, filling the entire auditorium like a sea that nurtured life, and penetrated into the little wizard's body.

And like a bright sun, it illuminates all directions, dispelling the darkness in the hearts of the little wizards.

Clark had to lower his eyes and head, avoiding Dumbledore's sight.

"This is really pure 'love'!" Clark was completely relieved, his love knew no bounds. He knew that Dumbledore, who possessed such a spirit, would not be a threat to him for the time being.

When he came back to his senses again, he found that all kinds of food appeared out of thin air on the table, and Dumbledore had already sat back in his seat, raising his glass and greeting him.

Medium-rare roast beef, golden-skinned roast chicken, oily roast pork chops, whole lamb chops, black pepper-flavored salami, potato chips topped with meat sauce, Yorkshire pudding, tender greens pea shoots, fried carrots, pasta with tomato sauce…

The long table was full, and for some odd reason, mint hard candies.

Perhaps the journey on the train was too long, and Clark saw Harry take a little of everything he ate, and the plates in front of him formed a hill.

Ron, on the other hand, grabbed two big chicken legs, bowed left and right, and ate his mouth full of oil, as if Clark's aunt had treated him badly.

Fortunately, Hermione didn't study like the two of them, but perhaps because her parents were both dentists, she was insensitive to all sweets.

As for Clark, after taking some roast beef and putting it on his plate, he poured himself a full glass of pumpkin juice, held it high, and shouted:

"Respect, Hogwarts!"

When the little wizards around heard this, they cheered, grabbed the cup with their oily palms, and raised them together.

"Respect, Hogwarts!"

"Respect, Gryffindor!"

"Respect, Gryffindor!"

The atmosphere of the entire auditorium reached its peak with this cheering.

In the food desert of England, the food at Hogwarts is already quite good. At least as far as Clark is concerned, he can keep his mouth shut.

Compared to those **** who eat and drink, Clark still straightens his body and doesn't make a sound even when he is eating.

That graceful gesture distinguishes him from other little wizards and attracts the attention of many little witches.

"Oh, boy, your movements are really standard, I think you must be from an ancient family." A ghost wearing a ruffled collar said while watching Clark eat.

"Thank you, I'm from the Prewett family, what's your name?" Clark put down his knife and fork and said.

"I know, Prewetts, I know, I should know your great-great-great-grandfather," recalled the ghost, "you may call me Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington, Gryffindor Tower resident ghost."

"I know who you are!" said Ron suddenly. "My two brothers told me about you—you're that 'Nick Headless Nick'!"

"I think, UU reading www.uukanshu.com I prefer you to call me Nicholas de Mimsy-Sir Porpington-" The ghost looked a little uneasy, but Seamus Finnigan with light brown hair interjected:

"Almost headless? How could you be almost headless?"

…

Clark was really not interested in **** things like beheading, so he took the initiative to withdraw from the conversation and lowered his head to deal with the steak in front of him.

After he chewed and slowly cleaned the things on the plate, the rest of the food disappeared, and the plate became as clean as ever.

After a while, desserts came up. There were ice creams of various flavors, apple pie, syrup fruit tarts, chocolate muffins, fried jam doughnuts, marmalade pudding, strawberries, jelly, rice pudding...

Clark frowned as he looked at these sweets that needed to be eaten with insulin. In his previous life, he really liked to eat sweets, drink beverages, and had extremely high body fat. In this life, it is difficult to have a well-proportioned body, and he does not want to repeat the same mistakes.

At this time, everyone had almost eaten, and the topic on the table turned to the families of the little wizards.

"I'm half and half," Seamus said. "Dad is a Muggle, and it scares him that Mommy doesn't tell Dad she's a wizard until after they get married."

Everyone laughed.

"What about you, Neville?" Ron asked.

"Oh, I was brought up by grandma, she's a wizard." Neville began to talk about his relatives and elders, but he didn't seem to want to talk about his parents.

Clark couldn't talk about his parents and family, so he had to chat with Hermione, who also didn't eat sweets, about their homework, which made Hermione very happy, and only hoped that this dinner could last longer.