Draco, sitting next to her, had already unceremoniously forked a piece of steak, then turned to find Herman still in a daze. "Aren't you hungry?"
Herman snapped out of his reverie, glanced down at his plate, and casually picked up a piece of Yorkshire pudding. "Hungry. Just thinking, this semester will probably be more interesting than I expected."
Draco chewed on her steak and mumbled, "Interesting? If encountering Vampire on a train is what you call interesting, then I hope the rest of the days will be a bit boring."
Across from her Harry picked up her Pumpkin Juice, took a sip, and glanced indifferently at Draco, pausing briefly on Herman before looking away.
Seeing this, Herman silently added to himself: Okay, there's still Harry, that demon orb, to deal with. Life is definitely going to be boring. He decided not to delve into it for now and to hurry up and eat, at least to die with a full stomach.
I already have enough questions today: Is the Philosopher's Stone still in the third-floor corridor? Is Quirrell a good guy? Where is Voldemort? What's the deal with the Prophecy? Am I Pure-blood?
There are too few clues at the moment; we'll unravel the mystery slowly later.
The lively dinner lasted for nearly an hour.
The food on the table is constantly being consumed and replenished, as if those silver plates are connected to a kitchen that can never be emptied.
Herman ate three puddings, two chicken legs, a stack of roasted potatoes, and a whole half plate of honey-glazed ham. Finally, he felt that his stomach had reached its limit, leaned back in his chair, and let out a long sigh.
Draco ate a little less than him, but not by much less.
At this moment, she was gently pressing her little finger against the corner of her mouth to make sure there was no sauce residue left, her posture so elegant that it was as if the delicious meal she had just enjoyed had nothing to do with her.
Harry, sitting opposite her, ate at a leisurely pace from beginning to end, like a cat assessing the value of its prey. There was more food left on her plate than both of them combined, but she didn't seem to feel any guilt about wasting food.
Dumbledore finally stood up for the second time.
The noise in the Great Hall gradually subsided, and everyone's attention once again focused on the figure with the long silver beard.
"Well then, my children, the dinner is over." Dumbledore's voice remained gentle, but carried an undeniable air of finality. "Before you all return to your respective house's common room, according to Hogwarts ' long tradition, we have one more thing to do."
He slightly raised his hands, as if conducting an invisible orchestra. A low murmur of complaints immediately filled the Great Hall. The upperclassmen all wore expressions of "I knew it was happening again," while the freshmen looked at each other blankly.
"Sing the school song." Dumbledore's smile held a touch of childlike pride. "Everyone can choose their favorite tune, just make sure they finish singing it."
Before Herman could prepare himself, a chorus of songs began to rise and fall around him.
Over in Gryffindor, someone was shouting in the tune of a march; Hufflepuff was using a soothing folk melody; and over in Ravenclaw, someone was even trying to drag out the lyrics into an aria using operatic coloratura.
Herman opened his mouth, only to realize he didn't know a single lyric, so he simply hummed along with the syllables. After all, Dumbledore had said he only needed to finish the song.
Draco, standing next to her, was singing with great enthusiasm. She had chosen a waltz, her voice clear and her pitch surprisingly good. As she sang, she tapped the rim of her cup lightly with her fork to keep the beat. Harry, on the other hand, didn't say a word, only her lips moved slightly as if she were singing as well.
After the song ended, Dumbledore satisfaction, his eyes shining brightly. "Very good, very much in the spirit of Hogwarts. Now, Prefect of each house, please lead your groups back to the common room."
The students at the four long tables all stood up, their chair legs scraping against the stone floor with a series of sounds. As Herman stood up, he suddenly felt someone squeeze in from behind. Two chubby figures, each a head taller than him, approached the Slytherin table at the same time, their eyes fixed on the pile of unfinished candy in front of Herman.
"Hey, Malfoy, doesn't your new friend eat these? Then we'll help him out."
The speaker was a round-faced boy with big, round eyes that gave off a natural warmth when he looked at people. The other boy behind him was slightly thinner, but his features were seven or eight parts similar to the round-faced boy's, making them look like brothers.
Draco sighed and introduced them with a "I knew it would happen" tone, "These are Crabbe and Goyle, the children of my father's friend, also from Slytherin." She paused, then added, "They're also freshmen this year."
Crabbe reached out without hesitation and grabbed a piece from the pile of candy in front of Herman. It was the Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans that Herman had gotten from the train, still wrapped in light brown candy wrapper.
"What flavor is this?" Crabbe asked as he popped the bean into his mouth.
Then his expression changed.
It was a transformation that was hard to describe; from a round, full, and cheerful expression, it shrank into a ball that looked like a walnut soaked in vinegar in an instant.
Crabbe's lips pressed tightly together, his eyes rolled upwards and then quickly returned to their original position, his Adam's apple bobbed noticeably, and then he suddenly covered his mouth, letting out a muffled whimper.
Goyle leaned closer and asked, "What's wrong?"
Crabbe didn't answer, but bent over so hard he almost bumped into the edge of the table. After swallowing with difficulty, his face turned a shade somewhere between grass green and grayish-white. After a long while, he managed to squeeze out a sentence through gritted teeth. " Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans... S.P.E.W. flavor."
Herman froze, then remembered what the woman selling beans on the train had said—that some people really did find them S.P.E.W.. He had originally planned to keep them as snacks, but now it seemed this box of beans was like a series of random time bombs.
Draco shrank back in disgust, having already pulled out a handkerchief again, which she held between her fingertips, ready to wipe herself at any moment. "You actually put something like this on the table? What if someone takes it by mistake?"
"It was Herman who put it there." Harry's voice drifted over from the side at a leisurely pace. She was straightening the collar of her school uniform and seemed to have no intention of helping at all.
Draco immediately turned her fire on Herman: "You actually brought this kind of stuff to eat? What happened to you on the train that made your tastes so weird?"
Before Herman could explain, Draco's nose twitched slightly, as if she had caught some unpleasant smell, and she took half a step back. "Wait, why do you still smell a bit... well, I can't quite put my finger on it, but it feels like I've been vomited on."
Crabbe was still gagging beside him, and Goyle's attention had finally shifted from the candy; he was now giving Herman a subtle look.
Herman's lips twitched. He remembered the big black dog on the train, its sticky tongue, the feeling of drool running down his cheeks, and the psychological trauma he couldn't shake off no matter how much magic he tried to cleanse himself.
Draco brought this up at this crucial moment, as if tearing open a wound that hadn't fully healed yet.