The atmosphere at Hogwarts was relaxed most of the time—especially during meals. This sense of ease was particularly evident during the lively welcoming feast, which was now drawing to a close amid laughter and cheerful chatter.
After Maca had helped himself to a second round of desserts, picking out a few favorites and devouring them with satisfaction, the plates on the table were magically cleared, returning to their original pristine state as if untouched.
At that moment, Professor Dumbledore stood up again, and the Great Hall immediately fell silent.
"Well, now that everyone is fed and watered," he said with a smile, "I have a few start-of-term notices to share with you." He paused, casting a brief glance toward the Weasley twins at the Gryffindor table.
"First years, please note: the forest on the school grounds is strictly off-limits to all students. And some of our older students would do well to remember that, too."
"Also, Mr. Filch, our caretaker, has asked me to remind you that magic is not to be used in the corridors between classes."
"The Quidditch trials will take place in the second week of term. Anyone interested in joining their house team should speak with Madam Hooch."
"Lastly—and this is very important—anyone who does not wish to meet a sudden and painful death should avoid the corridor on the right-hand side of the fourth floor."
A few students laughed, thinking Dumbledore was making one of his trademark jokes. But most didn't laugh—Dumbledore never joked about danger.
Maca thought to himself that this likely had something to do with the Philosopher's Stone. He couldn't quite remember the exact arrangements that had been made to protect it, and honestly, what did it matter to him? He was far more interested in the stone itself than in whatever elaborate traps were guarding it—be it to ward off Voldemort or just to give Harry a challenge.
Of course, the chance of actually getting the stone was practically nonexistent. Maca had no desire to be flattened into the floor by Dumbledore's pinky finger.
All in all, Maca had no intention of getting involved in the events of this school year. In fact, he already felt like there wasn't enough time just for studying. He'd be happy enough if he didn't end up adding to the chaos caused by those three little lions.
"Now, before we head off to bed, let us sing the school song!" Dumbledore declared with enthusiasm.
Most of the professors visibly stiffened at the announcement.
With a flick of his wand, a long golden ribbon flew out and floated above the high table, twisting and twirling in the air like a snake, forming the words of the song.
"Everyone choose their own tune," Dumbledore said cheerfully. "Ready? Sing!"
The entire hall—or at least the majority of students—burst into song, each to a different melody. Maca opened his mouth to join in, only to find that he couldn't bring himself to sing something so awkward. In the end, he just opened and closed his mouth like a goldfish, lip-syncing his way through the chaos.
When Dumbledore finally announced it was bedtime, Maca breathed a sigh of relief. But the thought that he would have to endure this six more times made his eyes sting with an unexplainable sense of dread.
"Alright then, let's go! First-years, follow me—I'll take you to the dormitories," said a warm voice beside Maca. It was the older student he'd chatted with earlier, now standing and smiling kindly.
So this was Cedric? Maca remembered hearing the name but couldn't recall his surname. Still, he vaguely recalled that Cedric was supposed to be a standout student—kind and charismatic.
"Hmm… not as handsome as I expected," Maca muttered to himself under his breath.
"What's up, little Maca? What are you staring at?" came a soft voice beside him. It was Charlotte, the upper-year student who had spoken with him earlier. "That's Darren Chris, our sixth-year prefect. He's been the boys' prefect for Hufflepuff since last year."
"Oh," Maca blinked in surprise. That didn't quite match his memory. "I was actually wondering which one was Cedric. I'd heard about him before coming here—supposedly a really good guy."
Charlotte gave a knowing nod and smiled. "Ah, Cedric? Yes, he's definitely prefect material. Give it another year or two, and he'll be at the top of the list."
Following Charlotte's gaze, Maca spotted a tall, handsome boy sitting at the far end of the Hufflepuff table. No wonder he hadn't noticed him earlier.
So that's how it was—there was a grade requirement for being chosen as a prefect. Cedric, for now, hadn't yet taken up that mantle.
"What about the girls' prefect?" Maca asked, noticing how Darren was leading the group alone.
"Oh, that would be me!" Charlotte said with a playful grin, giving his shoulder a friendly pat. Then she added in a whisper, "I'm not really one for leading, though, so I usually leave it to Darren. He actually enjoys doing this sort of thing."
Maca looked at the cheerful, slightly mischievous senior beside him and couldn't help but shake his head with a small, helpless smile.
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The new Hufflepuff students followed the friendly upperclassman Darren as he le d them through the first-floor side corridor and down into the basement beneath Hogwarts.
"That's the Hogwarts kitchen back there," Charlotte said, nodding toward a still-life painting of fruit as they passed. "If you ever get hungry at night, you can pop in and grab a bite. The house-elves will be more than happy to serve you. Just tickle the pear—it might giggle a bit too. It's pretty cute."
The entrance to the Hufflepuff common room was just ahead. But as they came upon what looked like a wall almost entirely filled with wooden barrels bound in iron hoops, Maca found himself slightly bewildered.
"As you can see, it looks like a messy pile of barrels," Darren said with a small chuckle, "but the entrance to our common room is hidden among them."
"Of course, you're not meant to open the lids and climb in. Ernie, that one's way too small," Darren added, stopping Ernie from investigating a suspiciously small barrel. "Now, pay attention—our Hufflepuff common room is the only one in Hogwarts with enchantments to keep intruders out."
"The method to open it is simple," he continued, drawing his wand. "You just tap the bottom lids of the two middle barrels on the second row—like this—with the rhythm of 'Helga Hufflepuff.'"
He demonstrated by tapping the barrel lids with practiced ease. Instantly, the lids rotated in opposite directions, and the entire stack of barrels shifted. An irregularly shaped doorway emerged before the wide-eyed first-years.
Darren waited a moment, watching their excited whispers and amazed expressions with a hint of pride before continuing.
"However, and this is important—if you tap the wrong lids or get the rhythm wrong, the barrels will douse you in magically-enhanced vinegar," he warned, raising his brows.
"And trust me, you do not want that experience. The smell clings like you wouldn't believe—and you can smell it from two hundred meters away. It's a sourness that'll make your teeth ache."
Ernie visibly shivered, now immensely grateful Darren had stopped him earlier.
"Charlotte," Maca asked, puzzled, "if it's just a rhythm and some barrels, wouldn't someone else figure it out?"
"That's one of Hufflepuff's best-kept secrets," Charlotte said with a casual shrug. "Our common room and dormitories have never been seen by outsiders in over a thousand years. We know how to protect what's ours—just like our house emblem."
Maca looked up at the crest hanging on the common room wall. The badger glowed faintly, exuding a quiet calmness and strength.
"'Hufflepuff: Loyal and true, steadfast and unafraid of toil,'" Maca read aloud from the plaque beneath the emblem. A trace of confusion returned to his face, just as it had during the Sorting.
"If it came down to it... would I be willing to reveal how to enter this place?"
He wasn't so sure of the answer himself.
The Hufflepuff common room was a circular chamber with a low ceiling and the faint, pleasant scent of earth.
Magic kept the space sunlit during the day and filled with soft, floating glimmers at night. Through its round windows, one could see swaying grass and dandelions.
Polished copper fixtures gleamed throughout, and plants—some hanging from the ceiling, others nestled on the windowsills—brought life and color. Professor Pomona Sprout, the Head of House and Herbology teacher, often brought fascinating specimens to decorate the cozy space.
Everyone, whether sitting or standing, felt immediately at home. Hufflepuff had the largest student population of any house, and yet it was also the most tightly knit—something that hadn't changed in centuries and often surprised the other houses.
Soon after, the new students made their way to their dorms for some much-needed rest. It had been a long day, and the little badgers were thoroughly worn out.
That night, Maca lay on his bed, flipping through his textbook while his roommates were already fast asleep. Though his body wasn't tired, his mind was restless.
Over the past two months, he had grown used to a regular sleep schedule, but tonight was different. The events of the day kept replaying in his mind. He had acted calm, but that didn't mean he felt calm.
He stared at the pages, reading line by line, word by word—but none of it truly stuck. Eventually, deep into the night, still wrapped in his robes, he finally drifted off to sleep.
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