A certain Hogwarts professor of runes.

“You’re really brave,” Neville said, giving Harry a thumbs-up. He sat down next to Harry, with Hannah and Susan Bornes sitting next to them.

“I just thought of it on the spur of the moment,” Harry muttered, feeling his face begin to burn. He really hadn’t thought that much about it, and he didn’t even intend to ask others to do the same, which was why he hadn’t said a word. It was Hermione who noticed his intention in time.

“That’s great, setting a good example,” Ernie Macmillan said loudly, bending down to pat Harry on the shoulder and looking at the badge on Harry’s chest with envy.

"By the way, I wonder if there have been any changes in the teaching positions this year?" Harry asked hastily.

He glanced toward the professors' table—it wasn't full yet, but he could see Snape and Professor Slughorn sitting together. Slughorn looked at Harry with undisguised admiration, his hands clasped together; Snape, on the other hand, squinted, making it impossible to discern his emotions. A few seats away, Professor Sprout and Professor Aurora Sinestadt, the Astronomy Professor, were talking quietly, their faces beaming with obvious smiles.

“Not everyone has arrived yet, well, I think we arrived earlier.” Susan said, craning her neck. “But at least we can be sure that the positions of Potions, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Herbalism, and Astronomy won’t change much.”

"The Defense Against the Dark Arts professor hasn't changed...that's quite surprising." Ernie exchanged a meaningful glance with the others, and Harry knew that the names of the Defense Against the Dark Arts professors who had come and gone over the years were probably flashing through everyone's minds at that moment.

But Harry himself wasn't surprised at all. Voldemort was dead, and the shadow that had been hovering over Hogwarts naturally disappeared.

"Do you think it's possible that Slughorn and Snape actually switched places? Snape continues teaching Potions, and Slughorn teaches Defense Against the Dark Arts?"

“Unlikely,” Harry said immediately.

"Why?" Hannah asked curiously.

Harry's gaze froze. Yes, why was he so sure? He couldn't provide concrete evidence; he simply felt that such a thing couldn't happen. He couldn't help but suspect it was because he had been frequently recalling what he had seen in the Pensieve. "Is that even a question? He definitely got inside information," a voice interjected.

It was Mafalda. She was holding a small notebook in her hand and a ballpoint pen, the kind only sold in Muggle shops, in her other hand. She was staring at him intently, as if she had caught a whiff of an exclusive scoop.

“Tell me quickly,” Mafalda said with a look of eager curiosity. “I think the most likely changes are to Ancient Runes and Transfiguration. Professor Hyp was recently appointed as a special envoy of the International Confederation of Wizards and visited more than a dozen ministries of magic, so he probably won’t have much time for the next few days; as for the latter—Professor McGonagall probably won’t be teaching students this year, she’s the headmistress now, right?”

She blurted out everything she knew, then looked at Harry with a probing gaze.

Harry glared back at her, knowing that every word he was about to say would appear in the Mystery Wall tabloids, so he decided to remain silent—and he didn't really know the answer, but that didn't stop him from making up a plausible story.

“You’ll find out soon enough, and you’ll be in for a surprise,” he said in a vague, almost all-knowing tone. The next second Harry realized he was mimicking Trelawney’s voice, which made him slightly uncomfortable.

Neville clearly took Harry's words as a clue and pondered deeply for a while.

“Who could it be?” He frowned, looking at Harry cautiously. “It should be someone I know, but not someone easily associated with, so that it will be a big surprise…” Harry looked at him nervously, afraid that his boast would be exposed when the results came out, but with Mafalda there, he couldn’t give him a warning.

Sometimes Harry thought that Ron's distant relative wasn't there to attend school, just like some painters who carry their easels around to collect useful material for their works.

"Could it be Mr. Longbottom? If so, that would be quite surprising..." Hannah Abbott guessed.

Harry had a sudden thought; it was indeed a possibility.

“No,” Neville shook his head and said with certainty, “because Professor McGonagall really did approach my father, hoping he would teach at the school.”

"Professor McGonagall invited Mr. Longbottom?" Harry asked in surprise.

“Yes, but Dad refused. He doesn’t want to be separated from Mom. They’re currently working together to choose a location for the new wizarding town,” Neville explained.

After being healed by Professor Hyp, the Longbottoms first traveled abroad. When the Wizarding Wars broke out, they immediately decided to contribute their efforts. After the war, they had no intention of joining the Ministry of Magic, but instead chose to open a small shop and live a quiet life. Until recently, after a major incident exposing the wizarding world, they were invited by the Ministry of Magic to act as professionals. It was previously rumored that they had participated in cracking down on the black market and smuggling trade in Britain, but this was the first time Harry had mentioned what Neville had been doing recently.

"A new wizard town—what's that?" Mafalda looked up from her notebook and asked with a shrewd expression.

Harry thought of the recent hot news: if wizards and Muggles were to trade, they would definitely need a fixed location. Could this be related? But he quickly realized he was mistaken. "It's to settle the foreign wizards who recently moved here," Neville said.

“It was indeed mentioned on the radio…” Mafalda said thoughtfully.

“My aunt is having a lot of trouble with them,” Susan Borns interjected. “The number of registered people has exceeded three hundred, and to prevent them from causing trouble, the department has urgently transferred a group of people.”

“That’s not surprising. Those people are related to the wizards here in some way,” Ernie Macmillan said dismissively. “My father said that many people fled abroad during the First Wizarding War, and now it’s just the other way around. I believe there are many surnames that you are familiar with, such as Shafik.”

“As far as I remember, they returned before they were fully exposed in the wizarding world,” Hannah Abbott said slowly.

Ernie shrugged.

"I didn't pay much attention..."

Mafalda left contentedly, then flew like a busy bee collecting pollen to another flower patch—Hermione was chatting with Luna and Ginny. Following Mafalda's retreating figure, Harry saw Ron looking in their direction listlessly, his expression restless, as if he wanted to come over.

When Felix and Professor McGonagall appeared together, they keenly noticed the disorderly seating in the Great Hall. They sat down in the large chairs and swept their serious and inquisitive gazes across the four long tables, like lions and snakes surveying their territory.

"Are you satisfied with the surprises brought to us by the newly appointed student council presidents?" Snape said softly, his tone as if someone had broken into his private storeroom and moved rows of familiar potion jars.

“I am indeed pleased, Severus. I am delighted to see this change take place during my tenure,” Professor McGonagall said cheerfully, then looked at Felix with a strange expression. “Felix, on the other hand—I must remind you, you have an important mission today, so don’t act like nothing’s wrong.”

Felix was discussing the progress of potion formula improvements with Slughorn when he heard this and turned around to look at her with a rather innocent expression.

“Sorting, Felix, Sorting,” Professor McGonagall reminded him.

“Oh, I almost forgot I was supposed to preside over the Sorting Ceremony—thank you, Minerva.” Felix stood up cheerfully, reached into the air and pulled a dirty hat out of the air, shook it vigorously, and then strode toward the foyer.

While waiting at the door for Hagrid to lead the new students over, he ran into Ferenze.

“Hello, Ferrenze,” he said to the centaur, knowing that Ferrenze had done a lot of work in persuading the centaurs to join the Pan-Magic Alliance.

“Alas, I wasn’t planning on showing myself,” the centaur said sadly. “I can’t stand human food.”

“Don’t worry, the house-elves have prepared fresh vegetables, all-natural,” Felix said. He watched the centaur go inside, Ferenze’s tail swishing back and forth, whether from restlessness or tension, it was hard to tell. A few minutes later, he heard heavy footsteps.

Hagrid's tangled, bushy hair came into view, followed by a group of curious little wizards, like bean sprouts that could walk on their own.

"Is everything going well, Hagrid?"

Hagrid paused for a moment, clearly having forgotten about the selection of the person to preside over the Sorting Ceremony tonight, just like Felix had before. "Oh...smoothly..." he turned and called out to those behind him, "Don't push, line up and come in one by one! Felix, I'm entrusting the freshmen to you, not one less." He said to Felix.

"By the way, I put the little house by the Forbidden Forest, and little Gloucester is quite happy."

Hagrid was referring to Gropp's temporary lodging at Bill and Fleur's wedding. After the wedding, Felix turned it into a painting, which Hagrid brought back.

Felix blinked and said, "That's good."

After Hagrid left, he led the first-year students to a separate room, where he explained the Sorting Rules and the basics of the four houses. In the soft white light of the magic lamps, their excitement and anticipation were clearly visible. Felix smiled.

“Sir?” a freshman said in a slightly trembling voice. “Are you Felix Heap? I’ve read your name in the newspaper.”

“You can call me Professor Heip,” Felix said gently. “Even if you can’t take my classes right now, you can still call me that. As for your question, I think yes, there probably isn’t another Felix Heip who’s been in the newspapers more lately than me. So, what’s your name?”

“Lock,” the freshman said quickly, “Lock Ivan.”

“…Oh, oh, well, Mr. Evan. You surprise me; your name happens to be the same as one of my friends,” Felix said. “I wish you a happy time in your ideal college—I mean, I hope you have a wonderful time.”

"There's still some time before the division begins, so you can get to know each other. If all goes well, you'll be spending seven years together."

While the new students were sizing each other up and introducing themselves, the students in the auditorium were overwhelmed by the constant stream of unfamiliar faces.

First came a centaur—"Hey, it's Frenzer!" Ron shouted at the Ravenclaw table. A few minutes later, the castle caretaker, Filch, led in two men. All the students were intimidated by the tall, thin old man in the lead, who wore a grey robe, had long, metallic grey hair and beard, and wore glasses.

It wasn't until he got closer that some students realized he was a waiter at the Hog's Head, thus overlooking the dignified, elegant, and unsmiling witch behind him, draped in a dark green shawl. But Harry wouldn't leave her out; he, Neville, and Ron and Hermione standing at the next table all widened their eyes.

“It’s Aunt Emily Vance,” Neville said with a soft breath.

Aberforth Dumbledore and Amelie Vance chose a seat, and the professors welcomed them. Aberforth chose to sit at the very end, his face expressionless, and casually picked up a fork from the table and tapped it twice. The centaur next to him, Frenzer, irritably rubbed his hooves against the ground.

"Did I affect you?" Abu Fawkes asked gruffly.

"No," Ferenc said politely but awkwardly, his keen sense of smell detecting a faint muttony odor.

At this point, the students below snapped out of their daze and began a heated discussion. Many felt that if they had to choose one of the three to be the Transfiguration professor, they would prefer the seemingly elegant witch—few knew Aberforth's true identity. They had previously doubted their judgment. But Harry knew more; Aberforth could never be the Transfiguration professor, as Transfiguration was a rigorous magical subject, and as far as he knew, Aberforth wasn't particularly good at academics. Conversely, Amelie Vance was a very talented witch, a few years older than Sirius and Amelia, and like the Longbottoms, she had survived two wars.

Felix led the new students into the Great Hall and stopped in front of the professors' seats. He conjured a small stool, placed the Sorting Hat on it, and then the Sorting Hat began to sing. The upperclassmen were very familiar with this routine, except—

"Why did the Sorting Hat sing so listlessly this year?" Ron muttered. Of course, he was just saying it casually. As the Sorting began, the enchanted ceiling above reflected mysterious star trails—Frenzer looked up at it—and Felix took out a piece of parchment and read out the first name.

"Lock Evan".

A freshman stumbled out of the crowd, put on the Sorting Hat, and after a moment—

"Ravenclaw!" the Sorting Hat shouted.

A thunderous applause filled the hall. The new student lowered his hat and hesitantly got off his stool. Felix said gently, "Just pick an empty seat. The House only affects your class schedule." So Evan went to the Slytherin table and sat down. Draco Malfoy, the prefect, stood up and shook his hand.

The branching process proceeded smoothly without any unexpected incidents. After the ceremony concluded, Professor McGonagall, as the president, welcomed the students and decisively announced several new appointments for the year:

"Professor Emmeline Vance will be the Transfiguration Professor… Professor Ferrenzer has just returned from his travels and is very knowledgeable in astrology and fire divination; he will be the professor for a branch of Divination, available to students who have passed the .ls exam… Also, this year's Ancient Runes class will be held in Room Seven. Room Seven and the Underground Playground will also reopen to students, and Mr. Aberforth Dumbledore will be the caretaker of both places…"

Professor McGonagall's serious gaze swept across the auditorium, then she smiled.

"Welcome back once again. In the current situation, I am very pleased to see that everyone can unite as one, which is our most powerful weapon. That's all I wanted to say. Please begin your meal."

Chapter 711 The Growing and Expanding New Saints

After the dinner, Professor McGonagall stood up and said to the students, "First-year students and prefects, please stay. Students from other years, please leave first to avoid anyone making a mistake or running to another lounge in the rush."

The students slowly pushed aside their chairs and headed towards the door. "Did anyone really go to the wrong place on the first day of school?" Harry asked curiously. "Oh, yes," Hermione said hurriedly as she walked over. "But the mistake is easy to spot; each dormitory bed has the new students' names written on it."

At the professors' table, Emily Vance, who had been quiet and hadn't said much all evening, suddenly said, "We haven't sung the school song yet." The professors sitting near her froze.

Professor Flitwick cleared his throat somewhat awkwardly and said, "Well, this isn't a part of the program every year."

The other professors chimed in quietly, "Yes, yes."

A clear look of disappointment crossed Emily's face, as if some wish hidden deep in her heart had been dashed. She calmly said, "I know, it's usually only on important occasions. I only heard it once when I was in school, and that was when I enrolled..."

"What was the reason for that?" Felix asked politely.

"I don't remember very clearly." Emily shook her head slightly.

Slughorn, standing to the side, wore a reminiscent expression. "I think I vaguely remember... Peeves caused a ruckus in the archives back then, and some folders were destroyed in the fire, including the sheet music for the school song. That was a long time ago... We hadn't sung the school song for several years before that, I think at least seven, because none of the students back then knew it..."

"So the school song has been without a tune since then?" Felix asked.

“Actually, there was one; we found a backup in the library later,” Slughorn said. “However, Dumbledore thought that keeping only the text was enough, and the melody could be changed at will.”

Later, Harry sat on the four-poster bed, taking things out of his trunk one by one. He lifted the lid, and a thick stack of parchment spilled out. Ron picked up the one that had fallen in front of him, glanced at it, and couldn't help but raise his eyebrows: "I didn't know you'd developed this habit of connecting names. Is there a pattern?"

“They are real,” Harry said. “And I’m going to write to them one by one.”

Neville stood behind Ron, looking at the parchment with a slight astonishment.

"Is it because of Dumbledore's biography?"

“Yes, asking about some details. Ephias Dorge wants the biography to be as good as possible,” Harry said. For the next few minutes, Ron and Neville enthusiastically rattled off familiar names, treating it like a game of recognizing the most names—which usually meant the person whose name was called had achieved some success.

Simo, who was making the bed, leaned over and grinned: "Cormac McCragan will be insanely jealous."

Harry rolled his eyes.

"Yes, the price is spending every day pondering word choice, grammar, and phrasing." In fact, he did far more than that; he also spent a great deal of time trying to decipher Dumbledore's thoughts at different times, which was no easy feat. Harry had a similar experience—for a time, he was able to enter Voldemort's mind to sense his emotions and guess his intentions. Harry felt he was doing the same thing now.

“Let’s think about something more practical,” Ron asked. “What do you think Emily Vance will teach us tomorrow? I never knew she was good at Transfiguration. I thought she was good at dueling. She was our guard, remember?”

“She excels in many subjects,” Harry said without hesitation, “charms, potions, transfiguration, and she’s even invented a few simple and useful spells. Dumbledore thinks highly of her.”

“That’s amazing,” Ron said, carefully placing the two wizard chess pieces on the bedside table before lying down on the bed. “And that centaur—I noticed Trelawney didn’t show up all night; she must be furious.”

Harry shrugged, the image of Trelawney gritting her teeth at the mirror in the attic flashing through his mind. He suddenly thought of Luna, who was in sixth year and would probably take Frenze's courses.