Unlike the Halloween feast, the most lavish Christmas feast begins at noon.
Harry and Ron walked into the Great Hall, stunned by the spectacular scene of the Christmas feast—
The tables were laid with a hundred plump roast turkeys, mounds of roasted at and boiled potatoes, large platters of delicious sausages, bowls of peas mixed with butter, and dishes of rich, thick gravy and cranberry sauce...
Every few steps along the table, there were large piles of wizarding crackers and fireworks stacked at the edges of the tables.
Fred and George were playing with the crackers. With a "bang," a cannon-like explosion filled the air, and a cloud of blue smoke engulfed the twins. They laughed joyfully, clearly enjoying themselves.
Harry and Ron could vaguely hear one of the twins talking about their great ambition in the future—to create a firework that could engulf the entire Hogwarts Castle.
Harry looked past the blue smoke created by Fred and George and gazed up at the professors' table. He saw Dumbledore, sitting at the head of the table, had turned his pointed wizard hat into a flower-adorned bonnet, and Professor Flitwick had just told him a joke, making him laugh heartily.
anwhile, Dracula was shaking his wine glass, looking at Harry and Ron with a sowhat sinister expression.
"Ron, why do I feel like Professor Dracula is looking at us strangely?" Harry, feeling uneasy under Dracula's gaze, whispered to Ron, who was munching on a chicken leg.
Ron, still chewing, mumbled, "It's nothing. It must be that Professor really likes the gift we gave him and wants to thank us."
After hearing Ron's words, Harry looked back at Dracula with suspicion and found that he had already shifted his gaze.
"Maybe you're right," Harry nodded and picked up a chicken leg.
...
"Professor Dracula, why aren't you wearing a Christmas hat?"
At the professors' table at the front of the hall, Dumbledore, wearing a flower-adorned bonnet, smiled at Dracula.
Professor McGonagall also nodded in agreent, her tall black hat swaying slightly with her movents.
"No, I'm not interested in Christmas," Dracula shrugged, focusing his attention on a bowl of bright red pudding in front of him.
"Co on, Professor Dracula, it's always better to get into the Christmas spirit a bit more!" Professor Flitwick stood on a high chair and selected a cracker with a paper hat inside for Dracula.
With a wave of Professor Flitwick's wand, the cracker burst into a thick pink smoke—revealing a pink paper hat decorated with white little hearts.
"Oh, what a vibrant color," Professor Flitwick seed a bit surprised by his luck and looked at Dracula. "Do you want to wear this hat as a Christmas hat?"
Seeing the pink paper hat, Dracula waved his hand in disgust.
"No need, I've thought it over, and I feel I actually could have a hat."
Dracula then extended his hand towards the entrance of the hall—
"Accio!"
Monts later, a brand-new brown leather pointed hat flew in from the entrance of the hall and landed directly in Dracula's hand.
Seeing the hat, Dumbledore paused slightly and then showed a look of resignation.
"Ahhhhh, don't let know who did this. Flying from the eighth floor to the first floor, it's going to give a fear of heights!" The brand-new brown pointed hat loudly complained, declaring that it would report the wizard who summoned it to the headmaster.
Then, it saw Dracula looking at it with a smirk.
"Ahem, Your Grace, it's you!" The Sorting Hat said awkwardly. "What did I just say? Oh yes, I was saying that the person who could call from the eighth floor to the first floor must be a master at spellcasting. I must report this truthfully to the headmaster so that he can give you a promotion!"
"You're quick on your feet," Dracula said with amusent.
"Of course, I am a hat infused with the wills of the four founders, with its own consciousness!" The Sorting Hat leaned back as if proudly raising its head.
Hearing the Sorting Hat's voice, the other professors looked over.
"The Sorting Hat?!" Professor Flitwick, next to Dracula, widened his eyes in shock. "rlin's beard, how did it beco so clean? I hardly recognize it!"
"Has this hat been reincarnated? Not even a patch left?" Professor Kettleburn, leaning on his cane and walking on his wooden leg, approached curiously to look at the newly refreshed Sorting Hat.
"..."
Hearing the professors' shocked remarks, the Sorting Hat's brim drooped again.
"Woe is , those were symbols of my years of hardship. Now I am no different from those ordinary hats..."
"Quiet down, hat," Dracula said, grabbing the tip of the Sorting Hat and lifting it up. "It's Christmas, and since I didn't buy a Christmas hat, I'll use you as a substitute."
"Wait, I'm a magical hat! How can you compare to those ordinary Christmas hats?! And you could clearly make one yourself..." At this mont, the Sorting Hat noticed the cold flas flickering on Dracula's finger.
It changed its tune: "...But of course, a self-made hat is not as professional. It's an honor to be used as a Christmas hat by you!"
Dracula then extinguished the flas on his finger and placed the Sorting Hat on his head, blending into the Christmas atmosphere.
At that mont, the Sorting Hat began mumbling,
"Hmm, very difficult, very challenging. I see, there's enough..."
"...What are you mumbling about?" Dracula interrupted the Sorting Hat's remarks, frowning.
"Uh..." The Sorting Hat realized this wasn't the Sorting Ceremony but a Christmas feast. "Sorry, Your Grace. Occupational hazard, occupational hazard..."
Thinking about the occupational hazard issue, Dracula suddenly beca interested in what the Sorting Hat wanted to say.
"When you had an occupational hazard just now, which house did you want to sort into? Just read it out loud for ," he said to the Sorting Hat. "I'd like to see which founder's thoughts align most closely with mine."
"Well... that might not be appropriate," the Sorting Hat said awkwardly.
"It's fine, just say it. Whatever you want to say," Dracula reassured.
"Alright then."
The Sorting Hat took a deep breath, gathered its emotions from deep within its brim, and then shouted loudly—
"Azkaban!"
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