This year's Sorting was full of entertainment. First, a Slytherin first-year headed straight for the Gryffindor table. Then, another student bolted while still wearing the Sorting Hat.
Snape tried to stop him, but whether it was his tone or something else, the moment he reached out, the student screamed like a frightened rabbit and took off.
Snape instinctively chased after him, the two darting across half the Great Hall.
For whatever reason, none of the other professors—Dumbledore included—intervened. They simply sat there, chuckling at the scene.
Not until the student was nearly out the door did Snape remember he could actually use magic. He whipped out his wand with an irritated flick.
The Sorting Hat whooshed back into his hand.
"That's it?" Ron clicked his tongue, clearly disappointed.
Snape's expression had been priceless—part confusion, part disbelief, and completely flustered. It was rare to see him so out of sorts.
Too bad Harry and Hermione had been called away by Professor McGonagall. They'd missed the show.
Harry rushed back into the hall just as the Sorting ended. Even though he hadn't witnessed the chaos firsthand, Ron's animated retelling of Snape's embarrassment had him laughing out loud.
Still, he'd missed two good shows.
Luckily, the feast was about to begin, and that was just as good. Harry eagerly eyed the golden plates in front of him.
After a whole day on the train—and the terrifying experience with the Dementors—he was starving enough to eat an entire cow.
But just as everyone prepared to dig in, Dumbledore stood up, arms raised for silence.
Usually, he never spoke before the feast. He preferred to wait until everyone was full and sleepy before making announcements.
"Welcome," Dumbledore said. "Welcome back to Hogwarts. I must speak to you before your minds are dulled by the feast…"
"There are a number of Dementors stationed at the school this year, as I'm sure many of you already know…"
The moment he mentioned Dementors, students shivered, thinking back to that horrifying scene on the train.
Even those who hadn't fainted like Harry had felt the sickening chill—the sensation of happiness being sucked away.
Had the encounter lasted any longer, more of them might've collapsed.
"While the Dementors are present, no one is to leave the school grounds," Dumbledore continued. "Tricks, disguises, and invisibility cloaks are of no use against them."
"But not Animagi…" Harold added silently. Get full chapters from 𝔫𝔬𝔳𝔢𝔩⁂𝖿𝗂𝗋𝖾⁂𝔫𝔢𝔱
Dementors didn't have real eyes. They perceived people by sensing their emotions. That's why invisibility cloaks didn't work—they could hide sight, but not feelings.
But that sensitivity only applied to humans. Animals were too faint in emotional presence—like comparing fireflies to floodlights.
If Harold wanted, he could dance right in front of a Dementor.
And if they did notice him? Well, that depended on how long they could last against a unicorn's soul.
Forget Patronus Charms—if you wanted to deal with Dementors, a unicorn was the real specialist. Especially a soul-state unicorn, which could fly. The only thing a Dementor might escape with was a tattered cloak.
Harold rested his chin on the table, rubbing his stomach.
Theoretically, it all made sense. But in reality? No one had ever made a unicorn soul fight a Dementor before. No data.
Maybe it's time for a test. For the sake of magical exploration, of course. Dumbledore would probably approve...
Harold rubbed his chin, seriously pondering the idea.
Meanwhile, Dumbledore had moved on to introducing this year's new professors.
The first was, of course, Remus Lupin, the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor.
If last year's Gilderoy Lockhart had been dazzling, Lupin was the complete opposite. His robes were tattered and patched, making him look even more ragged beside the other professors in their finest.
Fortunately, Lupin didn't seem to care—or perhaps he was just used to it.
A few polite claps accompanied his introduction, and then he sat back down.
Dumbledore then introduced the second new professor: Hagrid, who would be replacing Professor Kettleburn as the Care of Magical Creatures teacher.
Over the summer, thanks to the efforts of many, Hagrid's name had finally been cleared by the Ministry. His rights had been restored—including his right to use a wand.
He was now a proper professor, not just a gamekeeper working without a salary.
Yes, without a salary. Harold had only learned later that "Gamekeeper" wasn't a real Hogwarts staff position. Dumbledore had created the title himself, and the school governors refused to fund it.
All these years, Hagrid's "wages" had come out of Dumbledore's own pocket.
But not anymore. Now that he was an official professor, Hogwarts would finally pay him a proper salary.
At the staff table, Hagrid stood up nervously. His face was bright red, his eyes fixed on his hands.
"We should've guessed!" Ron exclaimed. "Who else would make us buy a book that bites?"
Once Hagrid had sat down again, the feast finally began.
In a blink, plates filled with food and goblets with drinks. The students dug in with gusto.
Harold helped himself to a bit of everything, piling his plate into a miniature mountain.
He ate fast. In just over ten minutes, the mountain disappeared—only to be replaced by a new one.
Across the table, Harry and the others stared in disbelief. Anyone watching might've thought Harold hadn't eaten in days.
But Harold didn't care what they thought. He'd just undergone his first Animagus transformation, then sprinted around the castle as a cat.
At the time, he'd been too caught up in the novelty to notice how tiring it was.
Now that the excitement had passed, his whole body ached, and his stomach growled like an angry ghoul.
He'd nearly passed out from hunger during Dumbledore's speech about Hagrid.
Now that he could finally eat, he wasn't holding back.
And maybe his enthusiasm was contagious. The others soon found their appetites improving too.
At that moment, not even the Dementors outside could dampen the Great Hall's joyful chatter.