Chapter 86: Prohibited Use of Items
In the splendid auditorium, only a few scattered conversations remained, punctuated by the occasional burp.
Professor Dumbledore stood up at the stage, his gaze sweeping across the room. The hall quickly quieted.
"Ah, now that everyone has eaten and drunk their fill," he began cheerfully, "I'd like to say a few more words to you. At the start of this term, there are a few matters to keep in mind."
"First-years, please note: students are forbidden from entering the forest on the grounds. Older students, you should already be well aware of this." Dumbledore glanced meaningfully at the Weasley twins.
"Furthermore, Mr. Filch, our caretaker, has asked me to remind everyone that several more items have been added to the list of forbidden objects in the castle this year. These include bamboo copters, magical pogo sticks, and underwater breathing tubes. The full list—currently at four hundred and thirteen items—can be viewed in Mr. Filch's office for anyone curious."
At this, a wave of complaints rippled through the hall.
"What's wrong with a bamboo copter? Not letting first-years use broomsticks is one thing, but this is too much!"
"I'm in second year! I can bring a broomstick but not a slow-flying bamboo copter?"
"What kind of school is this?"
"Can't we go underwater in Hogwarts? This has to be a Slytherin plot—keeping the underwater sights to themselves!"
"And what did the magical pogo stick ever do?"
Dumbledore held up a hand. "The explanations will be posted outside Mr. Filch's office," he said patiently. "Now then—Quidditch tryouts will begin in the second week of term. Anyone interested in joining their House team should speak with Madam Hooch."
"And finally... anyone who does not wish to encounter a most painful and unpleasant death would do well to avoid the corridor on the right side of the fourth floor."
Almost no one paid attention to this last part. The hall buzzed with students still indignantly discussing the banned items, some even banding together to draft a letter of protest to Dumbledore.
Meanwhile, Dumbledore's eyes twinkled as he looked toward Harry, who was remarkably calm and utterly uncurious about the mysterious corridor. At that moment, Harry had once again abandoned Percy and returned to Ron's side, whispering questions about the underwater breathing tube. "Where's it from? Which spellbooks mention it?"
"Now," Dumbledore said brightly, "before we all head off to bed—let's sing the school song!"
A collective groan rippled through the teachers and upper-year students, though the Weasley twins grinned in anticipation.
Dumbledore flicked his wand, and a long golden ribbon flew from it, twisting and twirling through the air above the staff table before forming lines of text.
"Everyone, choose your favorite tune," Dumbledore instructed. "Ready? Begin!"
And so they sang:
Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hogwarts,
Please teach us things worth knowing,
Whether we're bald old men,
Or kids with knees scraped from falling,
Our minds are open—
They're full of air,
Dead flies and nonsense,
So teach us something useful—
Help us fill in the gaps,
Give us back what we've forgotten,
Just do your best,
And we'll do the rest,
We'll study hard until our brains are fried!
Most students sang seriously, while some sang to the tune of "Doraemon." Eventually, even Harry, Ron, and Hermione joined in.
Only the Weasley twins stubbornly stuck to their slow and somber "Funeral March" melody. Judging by their expressions, they probably wanted to join the Doraemon singers—but didn't, likely out of pride for not having initiated the prank themselves.
Dumbledore cheerfully conducted the final bars of their dirge with his wand, then applauded the loudest when they finished.
"Music," he said, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye, "is more magical than anything we do here! Now off to bed, all of you!"
The Ravenclaw first-years followed Penelope Clearwater out of the dining hall, threading through the chattering crowd and up the grand marble staircase.
Hufflepuff and Slytherin first-years descended into the dungeons, where their common rooms lay.
Well-fed and sleepy, the students trudged along as if their legs were made of lead.
Eventually, they reached the sixth floor. After passing sets of old suits of armor and turning several corners, a tall spiral staircase appeared before them.
Climbing it felt endless. With each step, the dizzying turns and incline pushed them closer to exhaustion. Even the fittest among them were sweating slightly.
At last, they came upon an old, plain wooden door with an eagle-shaped bronze knocker.
Penelope raised a slender hand and knocked.
The eagle's beak opened and, instead of a bird call, it spoke in a melodious tone: "Where do vanished things go?"
"Everyone, please pay attention," Penelope said softly, not answering immediately.
"I'm Prefect Penelope Clearwater, and it's my pleasure to welcome you to Ravenclaw House."
"This is where the cleverest witches and wizards live—just like our founder, Rowena Ravenclaw. This door is the entrance to our common room. Knock, and the Eagle Knocker will ask you a question. If you answer correctly, the door will open. If you answer wrongly... you wait outside until someone else gets it right."
She turned back to the door. "They become nothing—therefore, they become everything."
"An acceptable response," the eagle said, and the door creaked open.
The first-years filed inside.
They found themselves in a large circular room with elegant arched windows draped in blue and bronze silks. The domed ceiling overhead was painted with stars, and a dark blue carpet embroidered with constellations stretched beneath their feet.
Bookshelves, tables, and comfortable chairs filled the space, evoking the feeling of an ancient library.
Opposite the entrance, a statue stood in an alcove beside another door—this one leading to the dormitories.
Penelope didn't linger on speeches. She led the girls through one doorway to their dormitory, then returned for the boys.
They ascended a spiral staircase once more, this time toward the boys' dormitory.
Each four-poster bed had a name written in gold letters at the head. The deep-blue curtains matched the canopy and bedding, all of it plush and soft.
Alexander Smith's bed was in the far corner, next to Harry and Ron.
The rest of the students were too tired to speak. They changed into pajamas, clambered into bed, and quickly drifted off to sleep.
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