"Don't worry, Dementors aren't as scary as you two," Ron said, rolling his eyes—a gesture he learned from Hermione.
Soon, Professor McGonagall walked to the front and placed the Sorting Hat on a stool.
The Old Hat opened its mouth and sang a nonsense song loudly.
"Who taught it that tune?" Hermione said, covering her ears. "It's so awful."
"I think it must have made it up itself when it's bored." Ginny commented seriously, "You see, at least it's satisfied with it."
Ron sneered, "What aesthetic can a hat have?"
Fortunately, the Old Hat couldn't hear this conversation, otherwise it would definitely be hurt.
This year's sorting ceremony didn't have the mix-up of "Hanna Abbo"; Professor McGonagall got the list right.
What caught Harry's attention was a black-haired girl in the sorting, and Draco's eyes were almost glued to her.
After the ceremony, Professor Flitwick picked up the Sorting Hat by its pointed top and walked out of the hall carrying the stool.
At that moment, Dumbledore also stood up.
Widely recognized as the world's greatest wizard, Dumbledore's attire aptly fit the stereotypical mold. His hair and beard were several feet long, accentuated by half-moon glasses and a sharply hooked nose.
Only those who truly understood Dumbledore, or those who didn't understand him at all, would see him as a powerful wizard—but unfortunately, most at this school didn't know Principal Dumbledore well; they unanimously believed he was a bit eccentric.
"Welcome!" Professor Dumbledore said, his beard shining under the candlelight, "Welcome to Hogwarts for the new school year! There are a few things I need to tell you, and one is quite serious. I thought it best to clarify it before you're all drowsy from the feast..."
Dumbledore cleared his throat and continued, "After they searched the Hogwarts Express—you probably all know—we're hosting several Dementors from Azkaban, here on Ministry of Magic business."
He paused, showing a somewhat displeased expression.
"They're stationed at all the school's entry points," Dumbledore continued, "During their stay here, I must make clear that no one is to leave the school without permission, and Dementors should not be swayed by tricks or disguises—not even Invisibility Cloaks."
Saying this, Dumbledore gave a meaningful glance at Ron and Hermione, as they often went on nighttime strolls wearing Invisibility Cloaks due to their Dueling House connections.
"Dementors inherently don't understand requests or excuses, so I warn each of you: do not give them any reason to harm you. I rely on the Class Prefects, and our newly appointed student council president, both male and female, to ensure no student conflicts with Dementors."
Percy, seated a few spaces from Harry, puffed out his chest impressively and glanced around.
"He's a power-monger," Ron whispered to Harry, "Remember the book he read last year? 'How Prefects Gain Power,' he worships power more than magic."
"I think magic is more important than power, Ron," Harry whispered back, "If you had Principal Dumbledore's prowess, wouldn't you naturally gain power?"
"Why?" Ron asked softly, "Look at Principal Dumbledore; doesn't he have to obey the Ministry of Magic's orders and set up Dementors at the school?"
"Because he's good-natured, Ron," Harry replied, "The Ministry would never dare force him to do anything if he decided otherwise—Ministry of Magic? How many Aurors do they have that can duel Dumbledore?"
Ron thought for a moment; indeed, that made sense.
"That sounds familiar; I remember Assistant Gael telling me that too." Ron said to Harry, "I corresponded with Assistant Gael a few times over the holiday, and he shared many things."
Harry was a bit surprised; he thought Gellert's interest was fleeting, but apparently, he seemed quite taken with Ron?
"I see," Harry didn't probe further.
With Vivi keeping Gellert in check, Harry wasn't worried that he would cause any trouble.
Besides, boys this age have sensitive minds, and prying could be counterproductive.
He trusted Ron had his own sense of measure.
Dumbledore looked around and continued, "On a happier note, this year we have a new teacher joining our faculty, Professor R.J. Lupin, who graciously agreed to fill the vacancy for Defense Against the Dark Arts. Let's welcome him."
Professor Lupin stood up and politely acknowledged everyone.
Perhaps because Professor Rozier's impression last year was too perfect, or perhaps because Professor Lupin's appearance was unremarkable, the applause in the hall was sparse.
Harry clapped, cheering for Professor Lupin, which finally spurred the nearby students to applaud.
Upon hearing Harry's cheers, Lupin smiled gratefully at Harry.
Predictably, Snape's gaze followed along the faculty table, fixed on Professor Lupin.
Everyone knew that Professor Snape had long desired the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher—this was no secret. However, Snape's thin, sallow face twisted in such a way that surprised the students; his expression went beyond anger—it was sheer loathing.
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