ALL NOVEL Chapter 98: Another Year’s Opening Feast
September 1st, evening. As the students swarmed back to school, they were surprised to discover a circular building had appeared between the castle and the Quidditch pitch!
Its white structure clashed with the castle's ancient style but was undeniably magnificent. Indeed, this low building covered half the area of the Quidditch pitch and was adorned with exquisite reliefs, though the patterns were hard to discern in the fading light.
On the way to the castle, George suggested, "How about we sneak over there and take a look?"
Fred nodded eagerly in agreement, but Hermione frowned disapprovingly at them. "Can't you two worry about Harry and Ron for once?" she exclaimed. "We haven't seen them at all since we got on the train!"
"They're not first-years anymore; surely they know how to get to school by now," Fred responded helplessly. Hermione's loud voice had drawn attention to them, ruining their chance for a discreet escape.
Seeing Hermione's continued worry, George tried to reassure her: "Even though Ron's a bit of a dunce, Harry isn't. If something really happened, at least he would have sent us a message."
"Maybe they're planning to jump out and surprise us!"
"Alright," Hermione finally relaxed a bit. Just then, Davies burst into their midst with a smug expression. "Guessing game!" he pointed at the white building.
"Guess what that really is?" George's eyes widened. "You went inside?"
"Of course!" Davies boasted, hands on his hips and chin tilted upward. George and Fred exchanged a mischievous look and swiftly grabbed Davies, pinning him down.
"Spill it, or we'll tickle you to death!" They prodded Davies's sides, threatening loudly.
"Ha ha, okay, I'll tell!" Davies quickly surrendered. Once released by the twins, he took a deep breath and looked around cautiously before whispering, "It's an arena!"
The Weasley twins gasped in the cold night air, recalling Professor Fawley's words from the summer.
"So, we're supposed to fight like gladiators in there this term?!" George exclaimed.
Hermione objected, "The professors would never allow something like that!"
"It's probably for training our combat skills, especially now that we're separated from Professor Lockhart—one teaches combat, the other adventure," she speculated, a hopeful smile forming.
"If you're talking about that Lockhart, then I'm not looking forward to it," George grimaced.
As they entered the bustling Great Hall, their eyes immediately fell upon Gilderoy Lockhart, who was extravagantly dressed and loudly boasting about himself. Even amidst the hall's din, his flamboyant voice was unmistakable.
"When I was in France, I saw castles even more splendid than this, yes, the castle's owner invited me very warmly... couldn't decline, you see, since I had saved their family's lives."
Meanwhile, the other Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, Tver, was much more subdued, engaging in a conversation with Professor Flitwick about the arena.
"Are you planning to hold dueling tournaments at Hogwarts?" Flitwick guessed some of his intentions.
"An official competition might not be feasible; we'll probably just use class time to let the students spar a bit." Tver had hoped to organize monthly matches like they did at Durmstrang, but Hogwarts had too many students to manage such an event without disrupting both professors' and students' schedules.
"I'm looking forward to seeing the students' progress," Flitwick said, suddenly looking towards the center of the hall, "Oh, the Sorting Ceremony is starting."
This year's first-years followed Professor McGonagall, too intimidated to speak—a typical behavior for newcomers. Tver observed the new batch of young wizards with interest.
After the sorting, McGonagall quickly left with a peculiar expression alongside Snape. A short while later, Dumbledore came to fetch the spectating Tver. Following the sprightly old wizard, Tver visited Snape's office for the first time.
Harry and Ron stood in a corner near the fireplace, which did little to warm them. Professor McGonagall was loudly reprimanding them, while Snape looked on with a sardonic smile from the shadows.
He held a newspaper featuring an ordinary car, except this car was flying. Under McGonagall's interrogation, Harry and Ron hesitantly revealed what had happened at the platform.
"Why didn't you just send us a letter with an owl?" McGonagall glared at them.
"If someone deliberately blocked the platform, they might also intercept an owl," Tver suddenly interjected.
Snape paused, puzzled. "What do you mean?"
"We all know Platform Nine and Three-Quarters is heavily enchanted. It wouldn't be sealed off without reason. The only explanation is that someone intentionally did it," Tver explained clearly.
Snape's eyes instantly chilled as he considered the possibility. "Or perhaps they are lying deliberately, just to show off by flying that car into the school. That sounds like something they would do, doesn't it?"
Harry and Ron bristled with anger, ready to argue with Snape.
"It's true, go check the platform if you don't believe us!" Ron shouted heatedly.
Harry, with widened eyes, chimed in, "We wouldn't risk getting expelled just to show off!"
A chuckle escaped Tver, drawing everyone's attention. "I just remembered something amusing."
"Okay, we do tend to be, well, somewhat reckless," Harry admitted with a flushed face, "but this was genuinely an accident."
"Regardless, you shouldn't have engaged in such dangerous antics," Dumbledore said with a hint of disappointment.
Ron's face fell immediately. "Fine," he muttered glumly, "we probably do deserve to be expelled."
"What are you talking about?" Professor McGonagall's expression softened slightly, "The school certainly isn't going to expel you just like that."
"But if there is a next time, I may have no choice," Dumbledore added calmly. Seeing the boys smile slightly, he continued, "To ensure you understand the seriousness of tonight's actions, I will be writing to your families."
Snape seemed about to say something else, but McGonagall spoke first, "And detention, you will also serve detention!"
"Not in the Forbidden Forest again, right?" Ron asked with a grimace, clearly recalling their previous unnerving experiences there.
"Why don't I handle it?" Tver volunteered for the task.
Dumbledore gave Tver a quiet glance. "Very well, that's settled. Let's return to the feast. Tver, I still need to announce your appointment along with Lockhart's."