As the last student was sorted into their house, the Sorting Ceremony drew to a close. Dumbledore stood, facing the vast student body, and raised both hands to signal for silence.
"Welcome to Hogwarts!" he greeted them warmly, adjusting his half-moon spectacles. "Before we enjoy our delicious feast, I have a few announcements to make."
The Great Hall gradually fell quiet, all eyes turning to the headmaster.
"This year, there will be a slight change in our teaching staff." Dumbledore's gaze swept the long table of professors, settling at last on Quirrell. "Professor Quirinus Quirrell will be our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher."
Quirrell rose, nodding nervously to the students before sinking back into his seat, his large purple turban drawing curious glances.
Harry Potter recognized him instantly as the man he'd met at the Leaky Cauldron.
"Hmm, hope Professor Quirrell doesn't turn out unlucky," a Gryffindor beside Harry muttered under his breath.
But Harry's attention wasn't on Quirrell. His gaze had shifted to Vison, seated further along the table.
If Quirrell is the new Defense professor, then…
His thoughts were interrupted as Dumbledore continued, confirming Harry's suspicion.
"Additionally, Professor Kettleburn, who has long taught Care of Magical Creatures, is retiring this semester. He will be succeeded by Professor Eldrein Vison."
Even though he had guessed as much, hearing it spoken aloud still startled Harry.
"What're you grinning at?" Ron nudged him. "Of course you're happy—you made it into Gryffindor."
Harry snapped out of his thoughts, forcing a smile.
Vison rose at Dumbledore's introduction, offering a polite wave to the students. To his surprise, a murmur broke out at the Hufflepuff table.
"Professor Eldrein Vison? Could it be—?"
"It must be. Looks just like the photo, same name too."
Then, cheers erupted, particularly from the Hufflepuff side.
Did I… do something? Vison blinked, puzzled. He glanced at his reflection in the polished table surface. His hair was tidy enough.
Professor Sprout, seated nearby, chuckled softly. "Still as popular as when you were a student, Professor Vison. See? Some older students remember you, and even the younger ones have heard the stories."
Her words deepened Vison's confusion. Popular? In his memory, he had been an ordinary, almost invisible student. Besides, six years had passed—anyone who knew him should have graduated by now.
It was truly baffling.
After the staff introductions, Dumbledore raised his voice again. "Before we commence the feast, I have a few final words: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you all!"
With that, food appeared magically on the tables, and the feast began.
Before Vison lay an array of dishes—boiled potatoes, roasted potatoes, fried potatoes, potato crisps, mashed potatoes…
His fork paused mid-air. Though he liked potatoes, this was excessive.
Thankfully, Professor Sprout, noticing his hesitation, swapped her plate of roast beef for his boiled potatoes. Relieved, Vison finally dug in.
As he enjoyed the meal, Professor Flitwick, seated beside him, glanced toward the Gryffindor table, then back at Vison.
"Why is Harry Potter staring at you, Professor Vison?" Flitwick asked curiously. "Do you know him?"
"I've noticed it too," Sprout added, turning to look at Vison with raised brows. "Harry's been glancing this way repeatedly."
Vison saw no reason to hide the truth. He shrugged lightly. "I live near his home. Harry often visits the shop I run. Since I cast a Muggle-Repelling Charm on it, I noticed immediately when he walked in—he's a wizard. Of course, I didn't know he was the Harry Potter back then."
Flitwick and Sprout exchanged looks of understanding.
"Ah, that explains it," Sprout nodded.
Their conversation, though casual, carried far enough to draw Dumbledore's attention.
"You never mentioned this to me, Professor Vison," Dumbledore said, smiling as his bright blue eyes twinkled behind his glasses.
Vison blinked, genuinely surprised. He had assumed Dumbledore, always so well-informed, already knew about Harry visiting him.
Surely Harry is important to Dumbledore, he thought. The headmaster must be watching over him…
Yet, as he recalled the boy's miserable life with the Dursleys, he found that assumption hard to believe. If Dumbledore truly monitored Harry, would he have allowed such neglect?
Vison pushed aside the thought. Smiling lightly, he replied, "Harry and I crossed paths by chance, Headmaster. It's a long story, but really, it comes down to proximity."
Dumbledore's eyes narrowed slightly, his fingers tapping thoughtfully against the table as he studied Vison.
The scrutiny made Vison uneasy.
But it wasn't only Dumbledore. Another piercing gaze weighed on him.
Vison turned his head slightly, just enough to catch Snape's dark eyes fixed on him.
Of course, he mused. If anyone here would react to Harry Potter's name, it'd be Snape.
Why exactly, Vison didn't wish to dwell on. He disliked tragic tales.
Though he sympathized with Snape's pain, that didn't mean he liked the man.
So, Vison simply ignored the glare. Stare all you want, Snape. I'll lose the moment I acknowledge you, he thought stubbornly.
Sprout, still intrigued, leaned closer. "So, tell us, what kind of child is Harry Potter?"
It was clear that not just the students, but even the professors held great curiosity about the so-called Boy Who Lived.
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