Headmaster Dumbledore nodded, rose from his seat, and announced in a clear voice, "Let the feast begin." The moment he finished speaking, food and drink appeared across all four long tables as if the air itself had decided to become generous.
Golden plates and crystal goblets gleamed beneath the candlelight, and the rich smell of roast meat, gravy, soup, fruit, and fresh bread spread through the Great Hall. The first-years stared at the sudden banquet in amazement, while the older students immediately reached for their favourites with the calm confidence of people who had been waiting all summer for this moment.
Harry looked down in astonishment at the plate before him, now piled high with roast beef, chicken legs, sausages, fruit, and thick, savoury gravy. He swallowed hard, because he had never eaten anything like this at the Dursleys' house, and even the sight of it made his chest feel strange.
Ron, sitting beside him, had already started eating with complete devotion. He picked up a chicken leg and a steak almost at the same time, looking as though he wished he could grow two extra mouths and turn dinner into a three-person performance.
Hermione happily filled her plate with herb-roasted chicken and potatoes. She still cared deeply about her dental health, so even with so much food spread out before her, she made careful choices and completely avoided the ice cream and desserts.
At the Slytherin table, Malfoy clinked glasses with Crabbe and Goyle before cutting into roast pork chops and spooning up onion soup. Roger sat across from them, eating elegantly but at a terrifying speed, his knife and fork moving so smoothly that the growing stack of empty plates seemed almost impossible.
The Ravenclaw table was close by, and Elena could not help laughing when she saw Roger's astonishing plate-clearing technique. She raised her juice toward him in a silent toast, now fully believing Hermione's nickname for him: dragon belly.
Roger raised his own glass back to her and continued eating. He had to admit that the Hogwarts house-elves were excellent cooks, and the food in the Great Hall was far better than he had expected from a school banquet.
The lively feast soon attracted ghosts from all across the castle. The Bloody Baron, the Fat Friar, the Grey Lady, and Nearly Headless Nick all drifted into the hall, passing through tables and students with the careless ease of people no longer troubled by solid objects.
Roger was enjoying his dinner when a ghost suddenly rose through the table right in front of him and greeted him. He suppressed a wave of nausea and muttered under his breath, "The magical world. Of course. The magical world."
"Madam Grey, could you please not rise from below the table?" Roger could not tolerate ghosts desecrating food, especially when their presence seemed to turn warm dishes into leftovers taken straight from a freezer. He looked up at the pale ghost and made his protest as politely as possible.
"A true lady should respect food." Roger cut into another piece of steak, then calmly brought out a fresh plate under the astonished gazes of the surrounding students. "Of course, that includes gentlemen as well."
In the blink of an eye, Roger finished the steak before him. The stack of plates beside him was impossible to ignore, but what truly shocked everyone was the contradiction between his manners and his speed.
He ate like someone who had been trained at a formal dinner table, yet the food disappeared at a pace that made it look as though a dragon had joined Slytherin in human form. Several older students stopped talking entirely and simply watched, trying to understand how such a thin first-year could contain so much food.
"Dragon belly," Hermione whispered at the Gryffindor table, her eyes widening as she stared at Roger. Only minutes before the train had reached the station, she had seen him devour a mountain of sweets, yet now he looked as hungry as if he had not eaten all day.
"Roger." Malfoy stared at him in a daze. He had not even finished his first steak, yet most of the food nearby had already vanished. "Do all members of the Williams family have such terrifying appetites?"
"Special circumstances. Just special circumstances." Roger did not explain the true reason and gave only a helpless smile. "It should only last about a month. Things will be normal after that."
Roger smiled bitterly as he continued eating. He did not want to stand out this much either, but every cell in his body seemed to be screaming, Hungry, hungry, hungry.
"Burp." After finishing his sixth ice cream, Roger finally felt about eighty percent full. The students around him visibly relaxed, and on the staff platform, Professor McGonagall also seemed to let out a discreet breath.
Logically, Snape should have been the one paying attention to his new student. However, the Head of Slytherin was deep in conversation with Professor Quirrell and had completely missed the first-year with the astonishing appetite.
If Roger continued eating like this, Professor McGonagall would have to consider sending him to the hospital wing for a thorough examination by Madam Pomfrey. Even by the standards of growing young wizards, this appetite was far from normal.
"Ugh, eating is so tiring." Roger stretched his arms and sighed sincerely. The young wizards near him opened their mouths, all thinking the same thing: eating like that would tire even a dragon.
By the time the feast ended, Malfoy had only eaten one steak, and his first day at Hogwarts had been thoroughly unpleasant. His attempt to befriend Harry Potter had been rejected in front of several first-years, and at dinner, he had encountered a strange boy from the Williams family who seemed capable of making the entire Slytherin table go hungry.
The others looked at Roger with complicated smiles. Several of them silently decided that the next time meals were served, they would sit a little farther away from him.
The Slytherin common room lay in a completely different direction from the other three houses, splitting away from the main route almost immediately after they left the Great Hall. Prefect Marcus Flint led the new students through stone corridors and down toward the entrance of a hidden passage.
It looked like an ordinary wall at first glance. Marcus approached it and spoke the password clearly: "Green silver."
A smooth serpent-like body made of brick and stone rose from the base of the wall. It slowly arched upward into the shape of a doorway, revealing the entrance hidden behind it.
"The password changes every two weeks." Marcus turned to the first-years and repeated it, making sure they were listening. "The new password will be announced in advance on the noticeboard in the common room, so don't forget to check it."
The first-years nodded and filed in behind him. As the last student passed through, the stone serpent lowered itself again, and the wall returned to its original smooth state.
They entered a dark passage where moss along the walls glowed faintly green. At the end of the passage stood the entrance to a luxurious common room, quiet, cold, and strangely beautiful.
The Slytherin common room was located beneath the lake and built from black Gothic marble. Its ceiling was a transparent crystal dome, allowing students to see the shimmer of lake water overhead during the day.
Green lamps hung from chains above them, casting a cool light across the room. Inside stood a fireplace with an intricately carved mantel, several heavy chairs, and windows through which giant squid tentacles or strange lake creatures could sometimes be glimpsed.
"Welcome to Slytherin." Marcus looked around at the new students with satisfaction, clearly feeling that this year's intake was rather promising. "The boys' dormitories are on the left, and the girls' dormitories are on the right."
"Your luggage has already been delivered by the school's house-elves." Marcus grinned, revealing his large front teeth. "Although our house is quite far from the Owlery, every Slytherin student has an individual dorm room. There are nameplates on the doors, and I'm sure all of you can find your own."
"If you're caught wandering around the school at night by the caretaker, that means Filch and his nasty red-eyed cat, you'll have to earn back every point you lose." Marcus's gaze swept over them, making it clear that Slytherin did not appreciate careless rule-breaking that brought punishment on the house.
"Our Head of House, Professor Snape, is excellent, and you'll understand that in your future studies." Marcus straightened as he spoke, and pride entered his voice. "Furthermore, our house has won the House Cup for six consecutive years, and I hope all of you will work together toward our seventh championship."
The first-years' eyes brightened when they heard that. A natural sense of anticipation and pride rose among them, and Roger nodded slightly, realising that Marcus was not entirely useless despite his unpleasant appearance.
Prefect Emily stepped forward next, her voice clear and pleasant as she distributed the timetables she had prepared. "First-year students have seven courses this academic year: Transfiguration, Potions, Defence Against the Dark Arts, Charms, Herbology, History of Magic, and Astronomy."
"Our classes will be shared with our old rivals, Gryffindor." After introducing the schedule, Emily smiled faintly and added, "Just remember not to act stupid in the Head of House's Potions class."
"There are no wizards more foolish than Gryffindors," Marcus added with a laugh. Several older Slytherins chuckled along, while the first-years exchanged glances and quietly remembered the warning.
"Prefect selection takes place in fifth year, and boys are not allowed in the girls' dormitory." Emily nodded and continued with the remaining instructions. She and Marcus both clearly had high hopes for this year's first-years.
Malfoy seemed to possess a certain talent for leadership, having already brought Crabbe and Goyle with him as followers before school even truly began. As for Roger Williams, he appeared for now to be nothing more than a pure-blood boy with an unusually large appetite.
"Curfew is from eleven at night to six the next morning." Emily took out her pocket watch, glanced at the time, and reminded everyone, "Students who don't have owls may borrow the public owls from the West Tower Owlery. If you need one, hurry, because there is only one hour left before curfew."
The new students hurried off to find their rooms, and Roger soon found his as well. He opened the door and discovered that his luggage had already been brought inside by a house-elf. On the table beside him lay Professor McGonagall's confiscated wand, along with a letter and a booklet.
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