The sorting proceeded in an orderly fashion. Before long, all the new students had their seats and were receiving welcomes from the older students.
Of course, the Slytherins seemed to have known exactly who would be sorted into their House long ago. This was merely like a reunion after the holiday.
Dumbledore rose to say a few words, then had the House-elves begin serving the food. While the students ate, he focused on the potato soup before him, not even glancing at Su Ming.
Snape clearly had no appetite. He merely used bread to scrape up the broccoli mash on his plate, took a few perfunctory bites, then leaned back in his chair with his arms folded and stared at Professor Slade beside him.
His hair was far too greasy. Under the countless candles, it gleamed as though it were a single solid black steel helmet.
An ordinary person probably would not have been able to eat while being watched by Snape's gloomy gaze, but Su Ming was no ordinary person. Not only was he happily eating chicken drumsticks in both hands, he even took a bottle of liquor from his pouch and shared it with Professor Flitwick on his other side.
The diminutive Charms professor was asking him about Hermione. Flitwick seemed to have learned something from Old Dumbledore, perhaps the details of the deal, and knew that Hermione was a disciple Professor Wilson thought highly of.
Before Hogwarts was founded, Mage lineages had been much like those of craftsmen. A master would take several apprentices and teach them while they practiced.
Even later, in the age of Hogwarts, some old-fashioned professors still liked to choose talented children from among the students and privately teach them as personal disciples. Put simply, they gave them extra lessons.
Not only was