This was the first Christmas Zhang Xiao had ever spent without any unexpected incidents.
As usual, hundreds of pumpkin lanterns hung in the Great Hall, along with a flock of fluttering bats and countless orange streamers that spouted flames. They drifted lazily beneath the ceiling like water snakes gliding through a pool.
To everyone's delight, Dumbledore had finally reappeared. He sat in his distinctive high-backed chair, smiling broadly and clearly in excellent spirits.
The food was exquisite. The young Hufflepuffs really knew how to enjoy themselves.
The addition of Chinese food seemed to have opened a whole new door for them. Taking advantage of their uniquely convenient location-their dormitories were right beside the kitchens-the young Hufflepuffs often went to beg the house-elves, who never refused them.
Before long, the Hogwarts dining tables boasted a rich variety of dishes: Italian, French, Mexican. It was practically a culinary exhibition.
The young Hufflepuffs' dedication to eating had finally made the feast feel like a proper feast.
Even by Zhang Xiao's exacting Chinese standards, the feast could now be called genuinely good.
Even Malfoy, who had eaten enough Honeydukes sweets to nearly burst his stomach, took a second helping of every dish.
Dinner ended with entertainment provided by the ghosts of Hogwarts.
The ghosts suddenly emerged from the walls and tables to glide about in formation. Gryffindor's Nearly Headless Nick successfully reenacted his own botched beheading, earning a chorus of cheers.
Only the young Hufflepuffs, holding chicken drumsticks in both hands, sank back into wordless sorrow as they remembered the Fat Friar.
The grieving little badgers could only turn their sorrow into appetite and gorge themselves, even causing a minor commotion in the kitchens. ("Hurry! This table's almost out of food!")
All in all, it was a pleasant weekend evening. Zhang Xiao was in