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𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟗: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐆𝐫𝐲𝐟𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐫 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐨𝐧 𝐑𝐨𝐨𝐦

Albus Dumbledore had gotten to his feet. He was beaming at the students, his arms opened wide as if nothing could have pleased him more than to see them all there. 

"Welcome," he said. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you!" 

He sat back down. Everybody clapped and cheered. I didn't know whether to laugh or not. 

"Is he — a bit mad?" Harry asked Percy uncertainly. 

"Mad?" said Percy airily. "He's a genius! Best wizard in the world! But he is a bit mad, yes. Potatoes, Harry?"

Harry's mouth fell open. The dishes in front of him were now piled with food. He had never seen so many things he liked to eat on one table: roast beef, roast chicken, pork chops and lamb chops, sausages, bacon and steak, boiled potatoes, roast potatoes, fries, Yorkshire pudding, peas, carrots, gravy, ketchup, and, for some strange reason, peppermint humbugs.

I served some roast beef first. It was delicious. 

"That does look good," said the ghost in the ruff sadly, watching Harry cut up his steak. 

"Can't you —?"

 "I haven't eaten for nearly five hundred years," said the ghost. "I don't need to, of course, but one does miss it. I don't think I've introduced myself? Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington at your service. Resident ghost of Gryffindor Tower."

 "I know who you are!" said Ron suddenly. "My brothers told me about you — you're Nearly Headless Nick!" 

"I would prefer you to call me Sir Nicholas de Mimsy —" the ghost began stiffly, but sandy-haired Seamus Finnigan interrupted. 

"Nearly Headless? How can you be nearly headless?"

 Sir Nicholas looked extremely miffed as if their little chat wasn't going at all the way he wanted.

 "Like this," he said irritably. He seized his left ear and pulled. His whole head swung off his neck and fell onto his shoulder as if it was on a hinge. Someone had obviously tried to behead him, but not done it properly. 

Looking pleased at the stunned looks on their faces, Nearly Headless Nick flipped his head back onto his neck, coughed, and said, "So — new Gryffindors! I hope you're going to help us win the house championship this year? Gryffindors have never gone so long without winning. Slytherins have got the cup six years in a row! The Bloody Baron's becoming almost unbearable — he's the Slytherin ghost." 

I looked over at the Slytherin table and saw a horrible ghost sitting there, with blank staring eyes, a gaunt face, and robes stained with silver blood. He was right next to Malfoy who, I was pleased to see, didn't look too pleased with the seating arrangements.

 "How did he get covered in blood?" asked Seamus with great interest. 

"I've never asked," said Nearly Headless Nick delicately. 

When everyone had eaten as much as they could, the remains of the food faded from the plates, leaving them sparkling clean as before. A moment later the desserts appeared. Blocks of ice cream in every flavor you could think of, apple pies, treacle tarts, chocolate eclairs, and jam doughnuts, trifle, strawberries, Jell-O, rice pudding...

As Harry helped himself to a treacle tart, the talk turned to their families. 

"I'm half-and-half," said Seamus. "Me dad's a Muggle. Mum didn't tell him she was a witch 'til after they were married. Bit of a nasty shock for him."

 The others laughed. 

"What about you, Neville?" said Ron. 

"Well, my gran brought me up and she's a witch," said Neville, "but the family thought I was all-Muggle for ages. My Great Uncle Algie kept trying to catch me off my guard and force some magic out of me — he pushed me off the end of Blackpool pier once, I nearly drowned — but nothing happened until I was eight. Great Uncle Algie came round for dinner, and he was hanging me out of an upstairs window by the ankles when my Great Auntie Enid offered him a meringue and he accidentally let go. But I bounced — all the way down the garden and into the road. They were all really pleased, Gran was crying, she was so happy. And you should have seen their faces when I got in here — they thought I might not be magic enough to come, you see. Great Uncle Algie was so pleased he bought me my toad." 

On Harry's other side, Percy Weasley and Hermione were talking about lessons ("I do hope they start right away, there's so much to learn, I'm particularly interested in Transfiguration, you know, turning something into something else, of course, it's supposed to be very difficult —"; "You'll be starting small, just matches into needles and that sort of thing — "). 

Harry and I, who was starting to feel warm and sleepy, looked up at the high table again. Hagrid was drinking deeply from his goblet. Professor McGonagall was talking to Professor Dumbledore. Professor Quirrell, in his absurd turban, was talking to a teacher with greasy black hair, a hooked nose, and sallow skin.

The hook-nosed teacher looked past Quirrell's turban straight into Harry's eyes. 

"Ouch!" Harry clapped a hand to his head.

 "What is it?" asked Percy. 

"N-nothing."

"What happened, Harry?" I whispered. 

"The teacher with greasy black hair, a hooked nose, and sallow skin," Harry whispered back. "He looked at me, and this jolt of pain hurried through my scar." 

"Maybe you should ask for the paramedic —" 

"No, Diane, I'm fine." 

"Who's that teacher talking to Professor Quirrell?" Harry asked Percy. 

"Oh, you know Quirrell already, do you? No wonder he's looking so nervous, that's Professor Snape. He teaches Potions, but he doesn't want to —everyone knows he's after Quirrell's job. Knows an awful lot about the Dark Arts, Snape." 

Harry and I took turns watching Snape for a while, but Snape didn't look at him or me again. 

At last, the desserts too disappeared, and Professor Dumbledore got to his feet again. The hall fell silent. 

"Ahem — just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you. First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well." 

Dumbledore's twinkling eyes flashed in the direction of the Weasley twins.

"I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors. Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch. And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death." 

Harry laughed, but he was one of the few who did. 

"He's not serious?" he muttered to Percy. 

"Must be," said Percy, frowning at Dumbledore. "It's odd because he usually gives us a reason why we're not allowed to go somewhere — the forest's full of dangerous beasts, everyone knows that. I do think he might have told us, prefects, at least." 

"I think he is serious," I whispered back. "Or else, why would he not be smiling?" 

"He usually gives us a reason why we're not allowed to go somewhere —" Percy started again. 

"And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!" cried Dumbledore. I noticed that the other teachers' smiles had become rather fixed. Dumbledore gave his wand a little flick as if he was trying to get a fly off the end, and a long golden ribbon flew out of it, which rose high above the tables and twisted itself, snakelike, into words.

"Everyone pick their favorite tune," said Dumbledore, "and off we go!" 

And the school bellowed: 

"Hogwarts, Hogwarts, 

Hoggy Warty Hogwarts, 

Teach us something please, 

Whether we be old and bald 

Or young with scabby knees, 

Our heads could do with filling 

With some interesting stuff, 

For now, they're bare and full of air, 

Dead flies and bits of fluff, 

So teach us things worth knowing, 

Bring back what we've forgotten,just do your best, we'll do the rest, 

And learn until our brains all rot."

Everybody finished the song at different times. At last, only the Weasley twins were left singing along to a very slow funeral march. Dumbledore conducted their last few lines with his wand and when they had finished, he was one of those who clapped loudest. 

"Ah, music," he said, wiping his eyes. "A magic beyond all we do here! And now, bedtime. Off you trot!" 

The Gryffindor first years followed Percy through the chattering crowds, out of the Great Hall, and up the marble staircase. I was surprised that the people in the portraits along the corridors whispered and pointed as we passed, or that twice Percy led them through doorways hidden behind sliding panels and hanging tapestries. We climbed more staircases, yawning and dragging their feet, and I was just wondering how much farther they had to go when they came to a sudden halt. A bundle of walking sticks was floating in midair ahead of them, and as Percy took a step toward them they started throwing themselves at him. 

"Peeves," Percy whispered to the first years. "A poltergeist." 

He raised his voice, "Peeves — show yourself." 

A loud, rude sound, like the air being let out of a balloon, answered. 

"Do you want me to go to the Bloody Baron?" 

There was a pop, and a little man with wicked, dark eyes and a wide mouth appeared, floating cross-legged in the air, clutching the walking sticks. 

"Oooooooh!" he said, with an evil cackle. "Ickle Firsties! What fun!" He swooped suddenly at them. 

We all ducked. 

"Go away, Peeves, or the Baron'll hear about this, I mean it!" barked Percy. 

Peeves stuck out his tongue and vanished, dropping the walking sticks on Neville's head. We heard him zooming away, rattling coats of armor as he passed. 

 "You want to watch out for Peeves," said Percy, as they set off again. "The Bloody Baron's the only one who can control him, he won't even listen to us prefects. Here we are." 

 At the very end of the corridor hung a portrait of a very fat woman in a pink silk dress." Password?" she said. 

"Caput Draconis," said Percy, and the portrait swung forward to reveal a round hole in the wall. We all scrambled through it — Neville needed a leg up — and found ourselves in the Gryffindor common room, a cozy, round room full of squashy armchairs. 

Percy directed the girls through one door to their dormitory and the boys through another. At the top of a spiral staircase — I was obviously in one of the towers — I found my dorm at last: five four-posters hung with deep red, velvet curtains. Our trunks had already been brought up. Too tired to talk much, I pulled on my pajamas and fell into bed. 

"Hello," said the voice of a girl. 

I looked up to see the same girl I had sat with during the boats. 

"Hey," I replied. 

"Diane Dursley, right?" she asked as she hurried into the room. 

"Yeah. And you are . . .  Parvati Patil, am I right?" I asked. 

"Yes!" 

I smiled. 

That minute, a girl with pale white skin, red cheeks as if she was running a marathon, dirty blonde hair, and blue eyes tripped inside, falling to the ground over her robes. She groaned. 

"Oh no —" Parvati and I said as we scrambled up to help the girl. We pulled her up. 

"So . . . sorry . . ." the girl panted looking up at us. "I'm . . . Lavender . . . Brown." 

"Diane Dursley," I replied smiling. 

"Parvati Patil," Parvati said as she grinned. 

Lavender, Parvati, and I hurried back to our beds. 

"So . . . " Parvati said as she prodded her finger on her pillow.

Again, the door flung open, this time by two girls holding books as if they were babies. I recognized one of the girls. 

"Hermione!" I exclaimed. 

Hermione looked up from her book to see me. 

"Oh hello! You are — Diane Dursley, am I right?" she asked as she smiled. 

"Yes, I'm Diane," I replied. 

"This is —" 

"Samanvi Bedi," the girl replied. 

"Oh, nice to meet you!" Parvati said. 

"Nice to meet you too," Samanvi replied. 

"Don't you have a twin?" Lavender asked. 

"Yes, I do. Anmol. She's in the other dorm with er — what were their names? Oh right, the Fawleys." 

I felt a sudden lurch in my stomach. The Fawleys! I felt like telling everyone I knew them so I opened my mouth to say so. 

But they all started talking about things I didn't know – magic. I didn't know what to say, so I said a very quick good night and slept off. 

I wish Harry was here. At least I had someone to talk to.