Anthony sighed, "So close! We almost had a Hatstall two years in a row!"
Michael jumped in first, "The odds of that are crazy low, but it really dragged out—I thought it was going to happen, too."
Chris stroked his chin, eyes glinting with mischief. "If there were two Hatstalls… and they were siblings… I don't even want to imagine what would happen!"
A wave of applause swept through the Ravenclaw table as Luna made her way over, settling into the seat beside Wyzett.
She wore a mysterious little smile. "The Sorting Hat told me quite a lot—some of it about you."
"About me?" Wyzett blinked in surprise.
Luna leaned closer, lowering her voice to a whisper. "The Sorting Hat said you're very special. It took a lot of effort to sort you, you know."
"The moment I put it on, it wanted to send me to Ravenclaw straight away, but it was feeling a bit lonely, so it chatted with me for a while longer."
"It even asked if I liked tonight's song. Apparently, it spent the whole year in the Headmaster's office coming up with this new one."
Wyzett couldn't help but chuckle. "The lyrics were great, but I just can't get used to its singing style."
"That's exactly what I told the Sorting Hat," Luna laughed, her eyes twinkling. "It said it might try a different style next year. I told it about 'death metal' music."
"Death metal…" Wyzett recalled the Christmas holidays last year, when he and Luna had stumbled upon a cassette tape of that genre in a department store.
"But when we listened to that, there was a whole band playing, right? If it's just the Hat singing by itself…"
He couldn't help but picture it: guttural growls and throat-shredding screams echoing through the Great Hall. What would the students—and the professors—think?
A spark of anticipation lit up Luna's eyes. "So the Sorting Hat plans to put in a request. It wants Headmaster Dumbledore to invite a band to perform with it for the Sorting Song."
…
The Sorting Ceremony continued. The youngest—and only—daughter of the Weasley family, Ginny Weasley, stepped up to be sorted.
As per Weasley tradition, she was placed in Gryffindor almost the instant the Sorting Hat touched her head.
"Hufflepuff!"
The last new student pulled off the Sorting Hat and dashed over to the Hufflepuff table.
Professor McGonagall rolled up her parchment and, with the Sorting Hat in hand, left the Hall—signaling the next phase of the evening.
Dumbledore rose to his feet. Tonight, he wore deep blue brocade robes scattered with shamrock patterns, and even his pointed hat was adorned with a golden shamrock pin.
He adjusted his half-moon spectacles and strode to the front. The shamrocks seemed to drift across his robes with every movement—utterly flamboyant.
While the owl lectern stretched its wings, Dumbledore swept his gaze across the Hall, smiling. "Welcome back to Hogwarts, everyone—safe and sound, I hope…"
"I'm sure after a long day of travel and waiting, you're all positively starving, so… I'll keep it short. Tuck in and enjoy the feast!"
His opening remarks were, as ever, brief and to the point. Harry and Ron nodded along in heartfelt agreement.
Harry even craned his neck to see what Snape was up to—only to lock eyes with him. He quickly pretended nothing had happened and joined Ron in applauding, eager for the feast to begin.
Dumbledore returned to the staff table, and in an instant, every plate filled with steaming, mouthwatering food.
The Hall buzzed with excitement. Unlike last year's endless topics, this year's main focus was all on Gilderoy Lockhart.
Among the professors, Dumbledore was usually the most extravagantly dressed. But tonight, Gilderoy Lockhart stole the show.
He wore a full set of lilac robes, elegantly pale but covered in sparkling sequins. Every time he flashed his dazzling smile, the sequins caught the light, turning him into a human disco ball.
Pinned to his chest were two badges. The sharp-eyed Ravenclaws up front recognized them: the Order of Merlin, Third Class, and the Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defense League.
His golden hair was meticulously styled, held in perfect waves by copious amounts of hair gel—ensuring it wouldn't be flattened by his sequined hat.
When the last slice of cake vanished from the table, Dumbledore stepped forward again for the evening's final announcements.
His reminders were much the same as last year: the right-side corridor on the fourth floor was no longer off-limits—anyone could go there, no restrictions and no point deductions.
"And now, let's welcome a new professor…" Dumbledore gestured to the staff table. "Our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher—Gilderoy Lockhart."
At the sound of his name, Lockhart adjusted his robes, ready to launch into a speech.
But Dumbledore, anticipating this, didn't give him the chance. "I think you all know him well enough—no need for introductions. Let's sing the school song and then get some rest!"
A familiar golden ribbon appeared, floating high above the Hall and twisting itself into elegant script.
Many of Lockhart's fans let out disappointed sighs, while others—who weren't so enamored—found themselves eager to join in singing for the first time.
With a broad smile, Dumbledore raised his wand like a conductor's baton. "Ready… sing!"
Whether it was his imagination or not, Wyzett felt this year's school song was more spirited than ever before.
…
When the feast finally ended, students—yawning and sleepy—trailed back to their house common rooms.
After Penelope showed Luna to her dormitory, Luna returned to the common room and found a desk beside Wyzett.
They had made plans tonight—to write a letter to Xenophilius and send it tomorrow.
Luna thought for a moment, then pulled out her trusty sketchbook. "I want to send a drawing home."
"What should I do, then?" Wyzett frowned, deep in thought. "How about this: you draw something flat, and I'll make it three-dimensional?"
Luna's eyes lit up. "Three-dimensional? Like those pop-up books we saw at the department store?"
Wyzett grinned. "Exactly, but with a magical twist!"
Seeing his smile, Luna seemed to understand at once, as if she could already see the finished result. "Dad's going to love it!"
While Luna sketched, Wyzett pondered how to bring their idea to life.
He'd need to use his magical artifact crafting skills. Over the summer, he'd kept up his research on Grindelwald's notes—making something like this wouldn't be hard.
But he wasn't content with 'just' that. He wanted to make it perfect—something truly magical, something that would surprise and delight…
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