Beauxbatons

What impression do Hufflepuff students have of students in the other three houses?

Selflessness, fairness, and loyalty are the labels they attach to Hufflepuff students.

Even those rat droppings in Hufflepuff, those annoying bastards.

Their dislike wasn't due to a matter of character.

It's just because they tend to follow the crowd and believe rumors.

Just as Harry was wondering if he was judging people by their appearance, the blond Hufflepuff freshman named Zacharias rudely took another freshman's seat.

This led to Dudley teaching him a lesson.

"What's wrong, Harry?" Ginny asked worriedly, taking Harry's hand.

She hadn't heard Harry's existential question clearly.

"Let me ask you a question. Have you ever seen Hufflepuff student who actively bullies others?"

"How could that be? Hmm, maybe Dudley counts. Before he came to Hogwarts," Ginny guessed.

"No, although I don't want to admit it, Dudley only joined Hufflepuff after he became a better person." Harry shook his head.

"Is it that blond guy?" Ginny pointed to the Hufflepuff table next to her.

She followed Harry's gaze and saw Dudley scolding him.

And as Harry said, Dudley himself is not a bully now.

"It's him! How could someone like him possibly get into Hufflepuff!"

He doesn't look like a good person at all.

"After he was assigned to Hufflepuff, I thought I had mistaken him for someone else!" Harry turned his head away, determined not to look at him for the time being.

"Why would you care about a freshman?" Ginny couldn't help but be curious.

His last name is Smith.

I finally understand why Ryan hates him.

"What?

He and Ryan shouldn't be the same Smith, right?

With blond hair, and considering Smith, there's only one possibility.

Oh dear, how come I didn't think of that!

I see.

I understand why he got into Hufflepuff.

"Why?"

"The descendants of Hufflepuff have the surname Smith."

They are indeed not very likable.

It is said that after Hufflepuff died, their ancestors stole the Golden Cup that Hufflepuff himself kept in the kitchen.

They were nothing like Hufflepuff themselves, always so arrogant.

"They're more like Slytherin than Hufflepuff," Ginny concluded.

Harry suddenly realized.

Ron, standing to the side, couldn't wait to say, as he always had, after the Sorting Hat was finished, "It's time."

However, this time he did not reach for the knife and fork.

He didn't stare intently at the empty gold dish in front of him.

Instead, his gaze was fixed on Professor Dumbledore had suddenly stood up.

Professor Dumbledore waved his wand, and a dark sky appeared in mid-air.

The sounds of rain and wind came from inside.

You can even smell a faint trace of moisture.

"Where is that?" a first-year Gryffindor student asked loudly.

"Forbidden Forest!"

"Something is flying!"

"Dragon?"

"It's a house!"

Which school is it?

The surrounding students gasped in surprise at the sight in mid-air.

It was a colossal creature, much larger than a flying broom—or rather, a hundred flying brooms—that was rapidly sweeping across the black sky toward the castle, growing larger and larger with each passing Accio.

It wasn't until the dark, enormous thing swept over the treetops of the Forbidden Forest and was illuminated by the lights from the castle windows that it revealed its true form—a huge, powder-blue carriage.

It was as big as a house, and twelve winged horses pulled it through the air. They were all Abraxan, each about the size of an elephant.

Then a deafening roar came from the screen and outside the door.

The scene in the picture has also shifted to the outside of the Entrance Hall.

It was the sound of horses' hooves pounding on the ground; each of them was as big as a plate.

In the blink of an eye, the carriage landed on the ground, shaking on its huge wheels, while the golden horses shook their enormous heads, their fiery red eyes darting around.

"It's Beauxbatons," Ron sighed.

But the corners of his mouth unconsciously turned up.

Clearly, he was thinking of Phoebe, whom he had met at Flourish and Blotts.

"You figured it out from the coat of arms, didn't you?"

"Beauxbatons' coat of arms consists of two golden, crossed wands, each with three stars rising from it," Harry chuckled dryly.

He also thought of the unknown France witch.

This made him feel inexplicably humble in front of Ginny.

However, it seems that because of the rain, the carriage stopped steadily and the door only opened now.

A boy wearing a light blue robe jumped off the carriage.

It seemed as if some kind of magic had been cast upon him; the cold rainwater automatically avoided his body when it fell on him.

He bent down and groped around on the floor of the carriage.

A golden ladder appeared, automatically extending towards the Entrance Hall.

Above the ladder, a blue canopy extends from the ladder's handrail.

Then came a shiny black high-heeled shoe, as big as a child's sled.

It protruded from the carriage.

Then there's the owner of these high heels.

A series of gasps of astonishment rippled through the Great Hall.

Harry and his friends were well-prepared.

This must be the witch Hagrid liked.

A Half-blood Giant shares the same surname as the Founders Beauxbatons.

The current headmaster of Beauxbatons Academy of Magic.

Even so, Harry and the others couldn't help but gasp when the woman walked into the Entrance Hall.

Because what was illuminated by the Entrance Hall lights was not the fleshy face they had imagined.

On the contrary, the face was very handsome and olive-colored.

With her large, dark, and watery eyes and her pointed nose, anyone who saw her would have to praise her as a refined France lady.

Combined with her shimmering hair, the black satin dress she wore from head to toe, and the luxurious opals gleaming on her neck and large fingers, the image of a traditional noblewoman appeared in Harry's mind.

She? Half-blood- Giant?

Harry and the others couldn't help but waver.

Ron's attention was entirely focused on what was behind Madam Maxime.

Because of her tall stature, Ron was only now able to see the figure behind her clearly.

There were about twelve or thirteen male and female students.

Their robes were all made of silk, and none of them wore cloaks.

Everyone was shivering slightly because of the cold and gloomy weather.

Harry couldn't help but follow Ron's gaze and look at the students.

But—he didn't seem to see a single figure that matched the image of that France witch.

Harry guessed that she was one of the students who had wrapped their heads in scarves or headscarves.

While Harry was pondering, the students filed in with Madame Maxime.

They split into two lines.

The students went to the long table next to Slytherin's —the one furthest from the corner of the three long tables.

The principal then went to the faculty table on the stage.

She greeted Dumbledore familiarly and then sat down next to Hagrid.