No Azkaban, No Azkaban

At the same time, the Sorting Hat's low whisper began to echo in his mind out of thin air.

"Hmm... holy cow! This name!"

Avada's eye twitched, and he hurriedly muttered under his breath: No Azkaban, no Azkaban...

"Not going to Azkaban?" the Sorting Hat asked in a faint voice. "Have you made up your mind? You could achieve great things, you know. With just a thought, Azkaban could help you reach glory, there is no doubt about that..."

"What the hell?!" Avada was shocked and angry.

"Haha, just a joke. Why are you so tense? Don't worry, I don't have the ability to sort people into Azkaban, and I won't do anything to you because of your name..."

The Sorting Hat chuckled, then began to analyze him seriously.

"Doesn't seem very brave, lacks courage and drive, always hesitant, Gryffindor is not a fit..."

"No ambition, not much desire for control, Slytherin won't do either..."

"Curiosity is quite strong, a thirst for knowledge, and has a logical way of thinking of his own..."

"Heart is kind, hardworking and steady, values friendship, values reputation, seems to quite enjoy cooking..."

"Which one to choose? Which one to choose..."

Avada's face twitched again; he really wanted to ask what was going on.

The Sorting Hat hesitated for a full three minutes before finally calling out with difficulty: "Then... Hufflepuff!"

"That's fine."

Avada smiled slightly; this was about what he had expected.

He stood up, walked toward the Hufflepuff table amidst cheers and applause, and chose a seat near the back, sitting next to a handsome young wizard with brown hair.

"Cedric Diggory, second year. Nice to meet you, K," the boy named Cedric said, smiling and reaching out a hand to Avada.

Avada shook his hand in return, heart clear. So, this was the only pride of Hufflepuff in the original series—the man who would die at the hands of Voldemort, reincarnate as a vampire, and eventually become Batman: Cedric Diggory.

But with him here this time, he wouldn't die.

"Do you mind if I ask?" Just as he was pondering, Cedric poked Avada and whispered: "What's the deal with your name? How come even the professor didn't read your full name?"

"It's a pity." Avada gave a wry smile: "Professor Dumbledore told me not to reveal my name to others lightly."

"Professor Dumbledore?!"

Cedric's reaction was exactly the same as Baron and Cho's: "Alright, then I'll tell others later not to ask about your name. But don't worry, this won't affect your life in Hufflepuff; no one will care about that."

"Many thanks," Avada said gratefully.

As the two talked, the Sorting Ceremony drew to a close. After the last first-year was sorted into Ravenclaw, Dumbledore stood up, happily spreading his arms toward the students, smiling exceptionally brightly.

"Welcome! Welcome to Hogwarts!"

"I know everyone must be starving and can't wait to have a big meal. But I'm sorry, before we eat, I have an important matter to announce. That is, I want to welcome this year's new professor to our ranks."

He looked back at someone at the staff table, signaled him to stand up with his eyes, and then continued:

"Professor Benjamin Baker will serve as the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor at Hogwarts. He is a council member of the International Defense Against the Dark Arts League. In his early years, he adventured across Greece, Eastern Europe, and Africa, defeating countless dark wizards and dark creatures, and has incredibly rich experience in dealing with dark magic. I believe that under his guidance, your level of defense against the dark magic will be greatly improved."

At the staff table, a handsome man who looked to be in his thirties or forties stood up with a smile amidst the applause and waved to the students. He was tall and thin, looking refined and gentlemanly, with no sign of having experienced the hardships of his travels.

"Now, I have only three words to say." Dumbledore smiled and raised his hands, looking at the students: "Let the feast begin!"

As soon as he finished speaking, the empty plates were instantly filled with various kinds of food, emitting a warm, fragrant aroma. There were so many varieties of dishes that even Avada, who had lived two lives, couldn't recognize them all. British food, Italian food, French cuisine, Turkish food, Russian food, and even a few dishes that looked like standard Chinese and Japanese cuisine...

But thinking about it, with the pitiful number of main courses in British cooking, it would be hard to support a large banquet, except for the decent desserts.

"Wow!"

Someone exclaimed loudly, but it wasn't because of the suddenly appeared food—dozens of translucent, pearly-white ghosts emerged from the walls and under the tables, drifting through the Great Hall with various expressions.

"Yo, first-years?"

A chubby friar drifted past Avada and the Hufflepuff first-years: "Welcome to Hufflepuff, and I wish you a pleasant seven years of study."

"Many thanks, may I ask who you are..."

"This is the Fat Friar, the ghost of Hufflepuff House," a sturdy student who looked like a rugby player explained: "He was a clergyman during his lifetime. But later, the senior clergy suspected that his method of treating pox was nothing more than poking peasants with a stick, and he always had a habit of conjuring rabbits from the communion cup, so he was eventually executed."

"Ahem, there's no need to bring up the past, Truman," the Fat Friar said with dissatisfaction.

Cedric also added: "Hufflepuff's History of Magic is basically tutored by him, after all, Professor Binns' class is just..."

While speaking, he used a fork to pick up a piece of food he had never seen before to taste it, then exclaimed: "What is this? It tastes great and is very novel!"

Avada recognized the dish at a glance, tasted a piece himself, and raised an eyebrow slightly.

"It's roast goose from Chinese cuisine. It tastes quite authentic."

"It seems the house-elves' recipes have expanded quite a bit." Cedric couldn't help but fork another piece into his mouth. After swallowing, he smacked his lips, still wanting more: "The food at the opening feast is usually the most sumptuous of the year, which is why various dishes that aren't usually available appear. I wonder when I'll be able to eat this... uh, roast goose again?"

"If you're really craving it, you could try to get on good terms with Cho, that Chinese girl who was just sorted into Ravenclaw," Avada suggested while dealing with a chicken pot pie: "I talked to her on the train; her family used to be from Jiangnan, maybe she knows how to make this dish."

After saying this, he suddenly froze.

In the original series, weren't Cedric and Cho a couple?

If his words just now truly facilitated a relationship between Cedric and Cho, then was it a coincidence, or so-called fate? Just like Trelawney's prophecy?

Once everyone had their fill, the remaining food vanished from the plates in an instant, and the plates and cutlery became as clean as new. Dumbledore stood up again, and the Great Hall returned to silence.

"I think, now that everyone has eaten and drunk their fill, I would like to say a few more words. At the start of the term, I have a few notices to bring to your attention."

"First-years should note that the forest on the school grounds is strictly forbidden to all students. Some of our older students would do well to remember that as well. Furthermore, our caretaker, Mr. Filch, has asked me to remind you that no magic should be performed in the corridors between classes."

"And finally, Quidditch tryouts will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in joining their house team should contact Madam Hooch."

"And now, for the final word..."

Avada keenly noticed the faces of the professors twitching.

"Before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!" Dumbledore waved his hand happily, and rows of glowing lyrics appeared out of thin air: "Everyone choose your favorite tune, and off we go!"

That night, Avada witnessed what could only be described as a dance of demons.

"Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hogwarts, please teach us something~"

"Whether we be old and bald, or young with scabby knees~"

"Our