Chapter 32: Liquified Patron Saint Curse (page 12)
When the ceremony ended with Blaise Zabini being sorted into Slytherin, Dumbledore immediately stood up and announced the start of the dinner with one sentence.
"Idiot! Cry! Residue! Screw it!"
After he sat down, some senior students from the four colleges began to take the lead in applauding, and soon the banquet hall burst into warm applause.
The dinner was very sumptuous, and the long tables of each house seemed to be transformed into many foods in an instant: roast beef, roast chicken, fried pork chops, lamb chops, sausages, roast quail, black pudding, Yorkshire pudding, boiled potatoes, baked potatoes, Fried potatoes, potatoes stewed with tomatoes...and, for some odd reason, some sweets appeared on the table.
Bourne ate very happily, and when he was eating the third piece of lamb ribs, a porcelain plate with an "S" letter pattern suddenly appeared in his hand, and the house elves of Hogwarts prepared something for him. Served with meatballs tartare as a personal snack.
Due to the delay of the train and the delay in the sorting ceremony, the little wizards of all grades were so hungry that their chests were pressed against their backs. As a result, this year's dinner was much quieter than previous ones, because most of the little wizards were busy showing off.
After the little wizards had eaten and drank, as usual, Dumbledore emphasized the discipline of Hogwarts again.
For example, don't cast spells in the corridor, little wizards can't enter the Forbidden Forest, and a new one added this year - don't go near the corridor on the right side of the fourth floor. While speaking, Dumbledore also glanced at the long Gryffindor table. George and Fred elbowed each other, and Bourne noticed that the twins seemed to have proud expressions on their faces.
At the last part of the dinner, everyone sang the Hogwarts school song in the banquet hall. Everyone could choose their favorite tune. The Weasley twins deliberately chose the slow-paced "Funeral March". When everyone else finished singing, Dumbledore personally conducted a few bars for them and gave them a round of applause.
"Music," the old wizard said, wiping his eyes, "is more charming than anything we do here. It's bedtime now, let's go back to the dormitory."
Under the leadership of the prefects of each college, the young wizards of each grade returned to the common room of their respective colleges.
The Gryffindor boys' dormitory was at the top of a spiral staircase--apparently in a tower--a room for five, with five ornate four-poster beds with curtains. Each bed is equipped with a cabinet for storing luggage and clothes, and a small single writing desk equipped only with a round stool (not an armchair).
When he entered the dormitory assigned to him, Bourne found that his luggage had been delivered. He was roommates with Harry Potter, Ron, Neville, and a young wizard named Seamus Finnigan.
Because Bourne had promised to write a letter to the "empty nester" Horace every week, he did not go to bed directly. Instead, he sat next to the writing table and wrote a line of small words on a piece of parchment letterhead with a quill pen.
"Nothing to do today, just listen to music in the banquet hall."
Although he used magic spells to "petrify" ten of his classmates today and bombed the Hogwarts Express, these two incidents have already deducted all college points, so rounding them off is equivalent to nothing.
And he felt that Grandpa Horace, who loved him very much, would not lose his temper because of these two "little things".
In fact, Horace really won't, because he is now more concerned about another relatively serious problem.
"How come my little Bourne was sorted into Gryffindor? Albus, what are you doing?"
Just as Bourne was getting ready to go to bed, Horace was having a "confrontation" with Dumbledore, the principal of Hogwarts, as a parent of a student.
If an average wizard wants to communicate instantly, he either has to sacrifice his dignity by sticking his butt up and sticking his head into the fireplace; or he has to be extremely wealthy and can afford an expensive two-way mirror.
Powerful wizards like Horace and Dumbledore have more civilized and convenient methods. For example, use a high-end physical guardian angel. At this time, in the principal's office of Hogwarts, a silver-white Tebbo warthog was uttering human words.
"I am the last head of Slytherin! My family is one of the twenty-eight pure-blood families! I have already found someone to customize my little Bourne's when he ran for Slytherin Quidditch Captain, Prefect, and Student Council President. Support merchandise! Now tell me, he was sorted into Gryffindor House?"
The Warthog Patron Saint of Tebbo was questioning Dumbledore while circling around the principal's office angrily.
The portraits of the former principals hanging on the wall should usually have gone to bed at this time, but now they all appear in the portraits.
"This little guy Horace seems really angry." A principal from the Black family said in the spirit of watching the excitement and not taking it too seriously: "Actually, it's no wonder, my name is Sirius. When my descendant was sorted into Gryffindor, I told him that he would not end well. Guess what, he ended up in Azkaban within a few years, tsk tsk tsk..."
Before Principal Black could finish speaking, a principal wearing knight armor and obviously Gryffindor style jumped into his frame.
"Phineas, stop chattering here," he lifted the visor of his beak helmet, revealing his face with a thick beard, "Doesn't Sirius have a younger brother who went to Slytherin House? He followed the mysterious man and ended up dying miserably - compared to his ending, Azkaban was just a sanatorium! If you don't accept it, come to a duel!"
The bearded wizard raised his meteor hammer in one hand and his wand in the other, as if he was about to start a fight if he disagreed.
"Humph, you fool!" Phineas Black glanced at the other party disdainfully and blew his stylishly groomed goatee.
"Try saying it again?"
"Just try it!"
"Enough!" x2
The current headmaster, Dumbledore, and his predecessor, Armando Dippet, who now lives in the portrait, spoke at the same time.
Dumbledore glanced at his old leader, and the two men immediately understood. As two Hogwarts talkers who had experienced Voldemort's time at school, neither of them wanted others to mention that dangerous student too much, at least not for now.
"Albus, tell me honestly, are you hiding something from me?"
Horace's patron saint used a four-legged stool as a stepping stone - the one with the Sorting Hat on it, and the Tebbo warthog also squeezed the Sorting Hat to the ground - and jumped twice in a row to Dumbledore. On the large desk in front of Lido.
He stared directly at the current headmaster of Hogwarts with his two egg-sized eyeballs. "Why do you want me to help brew the liquefied Patronus Charm? Tell me the truth. This year Lily's son Harry Potter also came to Hogwarts and entered Gryffindor House, and my little Bourne Was assigned to Gryffindor. Is this a careful arrangement on your part? Is it... related to that person? "
Faced with doubts, Dumbledore put his two hands covered with rings on the armrests, and pressed his tall figure of more than six feet against the back of the high-backed seat, and the expression on his face became extremely serious.
"Horace, my old friend. Ever since the Headmaster Hufflepuff, the sorting ceremony in Hogwarts has been presided over by the Sorting Hat. Even the Headmaster cannot influence or change its decision.