The Feast Begins

That happened more than a thousand years ago.

I have just been woven into shape.

There were four famous wizards,

Their names have been passed down to this day:

Brave Gryffindor, from the desolate swamp,

Beautiful Ravenclaw, from the tranquil riverside,

The merciful Hufflepuff came from the open valley.

The shrewd Slytherin came from that quagmire.

They share a dream, a wish...

On the triangular stool, the dirty, patched Sorting Hat swayed its brim, and a strange singing voice came from a mouth-like crack.

As the song ended, tears welled up in Headmaster Dumbledore's eyes, and enthusiastic applause filled the Great Hall.

Professor McGonagall unfurled a large roll of parchment and said to the first-year students, "When I call your name, sit down on the stool, put your hat on your head... Once the hats are announced, go and sit at the corresponding table."

She cleared her throat. "Stuart Ackley!"

At the Gryffindor table, Loren and the others faced the High Table and watched the Sorting Ceremony intently, while their ears were perked up, listening to the whispers behind them.

Hello, Harry!

Colin Creevey, now a third-year student, had somehow found his way to the seat next to Harry, his suppressed voice brimming with excitement. "Harry, guess what? Guess what, Harry? My brother got in too! My brother Dennis!"

"Oh...that's great," Harry said dryly.

"He's so excited! I really hope he gets sorted into Gryffindor! Will you pray for him, Harry?"

"Uh... okay, okay."

"..."

Listening to the Boy Who Lived talking to his fans, Loren and Hermione dared not utter a sound, silently minimizing their presence.

They quickly found Dennis, the smallest boy, among the line of freshmen.

While the other freshmen waited anxiously for their college assignments, he was the only one restlessly glancing around. He had gray-brown hair, was wrapped in Hagrid's Moleskin Coat, and his little face peeked out from the collar, looking incredibly excited.

When he made eye contact with Colin, he gave two thumbs up and mouthed, "I've fallen into the lake! I've fallen into the lake!"

"..."

Loren doesn't have Inner Eye and can't Prophecy, but he doesn't need to guess; he knows that Dennis Creevey will definitely be assigned to Gryffindor.

"Owen Caldwell!"

Hufflepuff!

"Dennis Creevey!"

"Gryffindor!"

Dennis Creevey was beaming with joy. He took off his hat, slammed it on a stool, and ran eagerly towards his brother, yelling in a high-pitched voice, "Colin! I fell into the lake! It was amazing! Something in the water grabbed me and pushed me back onto the boat!"

"That's probably Giant Squid, Dennis, that's so cool!"

Colin and his brother hugged and cheered for a while. "Dennis, Dennis! See that boy? The one with the dark hair and glasses, see him? Do you know who he is, Dennis?"

As Colin enthusiastically introduced the subject, the shoulders of the young wizards around him trembled uncontrollably. Only Harry shifted his gaze and stared intently at the Sorting Hat, with unprecedented focus.

Loren turned his head and asked in a low voice, "Why aren't you smiling? Are you just naturally averse to smiling?"

Harry's lips twitched, and his face darkened.

Cups and plates clinked, and porcelain and silverware jingled with delight; the banquet was at its most exquisite moment.

Hearing the commotion coming from the Gryffindor table, Theodore Nott chuckled and nudged the person next to him with his elbow, "Draco, get me some marmalade."

Draco glanced at him lazily, silently put down his knife and fork, and moved the marmalade next to him over.

Theodore Nott ignored his indifference, leisurely spreading marmalade on a slice of bread, and asked in a voice only the two of them could hear, "Excuse me, were you at the Quidditch World Cup?"

"Yes," Draco replied calmly. "The most luxurious tent in the middle of the camp belongs to the Malfoy family."

"Did anyone in your family participate in the march?"

Theodore Nott paused, probably realizing the question was truly offensive, so he spoke first, "My father participated in the parade and was only recently freed from petrification at St Mungo's's. He had to pay a fine of five hundred Galleon because of the Dark Mark on his body."

"This amount of money shouldn't be a big deal for your family."

"It's nothing now, but..." Theodore Nott pursed his lips, glanced at Draco, and suddenly changed the subject, "Have you heard about what happened in New York?"

"Werewolf or the International Confederation of Wizards?"

"It's Werewolf Inferi." Theodore Nott put a small piece of steak into his mouth, chewing as he carefully considered his words. "The turmoil at Hogwarts in recent years, the chaos in Diagon Alley, the Werewolf incident in New York, the Dark Mark on the Quidditch World Cup ... don't you think things have been getting stranger and stranger in recent years?"

Draco looked at him with a strange gaze. "You believe Dumbledore's warning?"

"I don't know..." Theodore Nott shook his head, "But I know that if things continue like this, it might not just be a matter of five hundred Galleon."

He looked straight at Draco: "So I'd like to know if anyone in your family participated in the march."

Draco didn't understand why he was so fixated on the topic, but he still replied, "No, we left after the match."

Theodore Nott immediately laughed, "We can be friends, right, Draco?"

"Friend?"

"You and friends like Loren Morgan."

Rumble!

A forked bolt of lightning cleaved through the dark purple clouds, and thunder roared simultaneously inside and outside the Castle, instantly Silencio the Great Hall.

The Great Hall door was slammed open, and a man with a cane walked in, his gray hair falling onto his black travel cloak. With each step he took, a hollow voice echoed in the Great Hall.

The young wizards who saw his face gasped in horror. Every inch of his skin was covered in scars, his mouth was a large, crooked gash, his nose looked like it had been cut open, and the part that should have been raised was gone. Even more horrifying were his eyes: one was normal, but the other was a bright blue sphere that bulged out and moved constantly up, down, left, and right.

The lame man exchanged a few words with Dumbledore, then sat down, shook his head to clear his long, gray hair from his face, pulled over a plate of sausages, and held it to his mutilated nose to smell them. He took a small knife from his pocket and began to eat the sausages.

His normal eye was fixed on the sausage, but his blue eye kept darting around in its socket, taking in the Great Hall and his classmates.

Every young wizard who was stared at by that eye felt a surge of fear.

"Mad-Eye Moody," Hermione whispered.

Dumbledore stood up and said cheerfully, "Please allow me to introduce our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher— Professor Moody!"

"..."

Only Dumbledore and Hagrid gave sporadic applause. The young wizards were all drawn to Moody's strange appearance, both frightened and curious, staring at him intently, and quickly lowering their heads when his eyes swept over them.

Dumbledore wasn't surprised and smiled at everyone:

"Now that we have all eaten and drunk our fill, I must once again ask everyone to pay attention, as I have a few announcements to make."

"Mr. Filch, the caretaker, wants me to inform everyone that several more items have been added to the list of prohibited items for use within the Castle this year..."

"I also regret to inform you that the House Cup Quidditch tournament will not be held this year. A large event will begin in October and continue throughout the school year, taking up a lot of the teachers' time and energy, but I believe you will all enjoy it very much."

"I am very pleased to announce that the Triwizard Tournament will be held at Hogwarts this year!"