The empty plates in front of Zhang Xiao suddenly filled with a lavish spread: roast beef, roast chicken, pork chops, lamb chops, sausages, steak, boiled potatoes, roast potatoes, chips (Why was everything potatoes?), and peppermint humbugs.
Unlike the lions, the Slytherins did not seem fond of animated conversation. They ate while discussing what they had done over the summer.
"Yes, Father and I went to visit the Scottish National Team, and I even had my photo taken with their Seeker, Hector Lamont. Honestly, even though Hector failed to catch the Golden Snitch in last year's Quidditch World Cup final, I still maintain that he's only a fingertip away from being the best Seeker in the world. (Note 1)"
"I attended an exclusive private auction. The offerings were decent enough, but the only thing that caught my eye was a seventeenth-century goblin-made helmet. It cost less than a thousand Galleons. Well worth the money."
Even Malfoy was boasting to Clark and Goyle about his holiday with his parents, glancing at Zhang Xiao as he spoke to see how he would react.
Zhang Xiao did not join the conversation. He searched for food that interested him, but unfortunately found almost none. He did notice, however, that only some of the people at the Slytherin table were talking loudly. Others kept their heads down and ate quickly in silence, occasionally exchanging a few quiet words.
This made Zhang Xiao very curious, so he tugged at Malfoy, who was thoroughly enjoying his own boasting, and asked:
"What's going on with those people?"
Malfoy impatiently looked where Zhang Xiao was pointing and sneered. "They're all half-bloods, not noble pure-blood wizards. Even more laughably, some of them actually grew up in Muggle society."
"Wait, are you a half-blood too?" Malfoy suddenly gave him a nasty smile and eyed him suspiciously.
Zhang Xiao shot him an irritated glare.
"I'm Chinese!"
Malfoy thought about it for a while but still could not understand what being Chinese had to do with his question. Besides, the wizarding world knew little about China in the first place. He could only give a vague grunt before looking at the half-blood Slytherins eating their meals and sneering:
"Look at them wolfing it down. How pitiful. I imagine the start-of-term feast at Hogwarts is the only time they get to taste such delicious, plentiful food."
Zhang Xiao froze. Speechless, he stared at Malfoy, who held a chicken leg in each hand. Delicious and plentiful? Well, plentiful, perhaps. Delicious was nowhere close. He asked scornfully:
"You call this stuff delicious? Is there anything here besides meat and potatoes?"
Faced with Zhang Xiao's undisguised contempt, Malfoy suddenly found the chicken legs in his hands much less appetizing. He asked tentatively:
"Then what counts as delicious? French cuisine? My father's taken me out for French cuisine too. It certainly tastes better than this, and it's more refined."
Zhang Xiao speared a boiled potato and eyed it disdainfully. "I'll show you sometime. French cuisine is pretty good, but you might not like what I find delicious. Our tastes are too different."
In his previous life, arguments online over which country's cuisine was the best in the world had been every bit as fierce as the debates over sweet versus savory tofu pudding.
As for which actually tasted best, everyone had their own opinion.
With his stomach full and nothing to do, Zhang Xiao looked around. This time, his gaze settled on a ghost sitting nearby.
His robes were stained with silvery blood, his eyes were hollow and melancholy, and his cheeks were gaunt. He simply floated there quietly beside the Slytherin table.
Malfoy leaned over again, convinced deep down that the noble Malfoy family must never be outdone. If Zhang Xiao thought this food was not delicious while he himself tucked into it with gusto, what was the point of the Malfoy family's nobility?
Wearing his trademark smug, arrogant smile, Malfoy said quietly:
"You don't know who he is, do you? My father told me about him. Want to know?"
Zhang Xiao replied casually:
"Oh, the Bloody Baron. He failed to win Helena's love and ended up killing himself. He carries a lot of weight among the ghosts. He was the one who ordered the Ghost Council to bar Peeves from the start-of-term feast."
Malfoy's smile froze on his face. Why did he know so much? Even more than a born-and-bred Slytherin like me? Malfoy had never even heard of a Ghost Council.
"Is that really true?" Malfoy asked suspiciously, frowning.
"Why not go ask him yourself?" Zhang Xiao pulled the fruit platter toward him, took a bunch of grapes, and ate them one by one. Oh? These were actually pretty good. Sweet and tart.
Malfoy looked toward the Bloody Baron nearby, then gave in to his nerves and shrank back, muttering something under his breath.
At last, the main courses on the plates turned into desserts, which eventually vanished as well.
Professor Dumbledore rose again, and silence returned to the hall. "Oh, now that everyone has had their fill of food and drink, I have a few more words to say. At the start of term, there are several things I must bring to your attention."
"First-years, please note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all students. Some of our older students would do well to remember that too."
Dumbledore's twinkling gaze swept toward Gryffindor.
"Also, our caretaker, Mr. Filch, has asked me to remind you not to use magic in the corridors between classes.
"Quidditch tryouts will be held in the second week of term. Anyone interested in playing for their house team should contact Madam Hooch.
"Finally, I must tell you that anyone who does not wish to meet an unexpected and agonizing death should stay out of the corridor on the right-hand side of the fourth floor."
Laughter rose from the Gryffindor table again. Zhang Xiao was rather speechless, because it was that reckless Harry laughing. Surprisingly, Malfoy was laughing too, and still found time to boast to Clark and Goyle:
"That's a really funny joke from Dumbledore. My father is a school governor at Hogwarts, and he told me the school would never put any student in danger. Otherwise, Dumbledore would lose his position as headmaster."
"Now, before we all go to bed, let us sing the school song together!" Dumbledore said loudly. Zhang Xiao noticed that the other teachers' smiles seemed to have frozen.
Dumbledore gave his wand a light flick, and a long golden ribbon flew out of it, twisting like a snake high above the tables and forming lines of words.
"Everyone choose your favorite tune," Dumbledore said. "Ready, sing!"
And so all the teachers and students burst into song: "Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hogwarts, please teach us knowledge, whether we are balding old men or children with scraped knees, our minds can take in some interesting things.
"For now our heads are empty, full of air, dead flies, and trivial things. Teach us some worthwhile knowledge, give back what we have forgotten. Just do your best, and leave the rest to us. We shall study hard until we turn to dust."
Everyone finished the school song at different times. Zhang Xiao's voice rang out particularly clearly; he was singing it to the tune of Leo Ku's "King of Love Songs."
It was twice as long as the Weasley twins' "Funeral March." Dumbledore conducted the three of them with his wand. When Zhang Xiao saw the Weasley twins finish, he sensibly stopped singing too. Dumbledore applauded the loudest.
"Ah, music," he said, wiping his eyes. "More enchanting than anything we do here! Now it is time for bed. Off to your dormitories, everyone."
Zhang Xiao wiped his eyes too, though his tears came from sleepy yawns. At last, he could get some rest.
Note 1: In the 1990 Quidditch World Cup final, the Scottish National Team spotted the Golden Snitch while they were in the lead. In the end, their Seeker missed his chance because his fingers were shorter than his opponent's, costing them the match.
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