Chapter 103

It was still raining heavily at Hogwarts on Halloween Eve.

But this did not affect the joyful atmosphere of the young wizards attending the Halloween feast.

Like last year, the students woke up early in the morning, smelling the sweet and tempting aroma of roasted pumpkin in the corridors.

In the Great Hall, the decorative bats and dark clouds had already been set up.

The huge pumpkin provided by Hagrid was carved into the shape of a jack-o'-lantern, floating in the air, adding a festive touch to the day.

In addition to this, Ethan had also heard a rumor that Dumbledore had booked a Troupe of dancing skeletons to entertain everyone.

All I can say is that this old fool has poor taste. Who wants to watch a bunch of skeletons perform? Instead of hiring a Troupe of dancing skeletons, it would be better to invite the Veela Dance Troupe, which would align more with most people's preferences.

Fred and George also told me at lunch that they had been warned by Professor McGonagall.

If she is displeased on Halloween again this year, it won't just be a simple deduction of points.

She wouldn't hesitate to invite Mrs. Weasley to Hogwarts for afternoon tea once a week, with house-elf pick-up and drop-off service.

Having tea and discussing her children's performance at Hogwarts, while Mrs. Weasley also gets to visit her darling sons.

With all the children in school, Mrs. Weasley is likely feeling bored at home during the day, so she wouldn't refuse such an offer.

Professor McGonagall, being the deputy headmistress, certainly has the authority to do this, and Fred and George know it all too well.

After receiving this warning, Fred and George hurried to Ethan, urging him not to do anything this year and to abandon any pranks he might have planned.

If Ethan's tricks were blamed on them, they'd be in serious trouble.

They absolutely didn't want to see their mother at Hogwarts, especially not once a week. That would be worse than being punished by having to clean the dungbomb-splattered corridors.

Ethan didn't have any plans this year, so he agreed.

Last year, he just wanted to pull off a prank to complete an achievement.

Now that the prank achievement was done, Ethan wasn't interested in doing anything more—unless there was a bigger stage for it.

"Ethan, I heard that tonight's feast will have hotpot instead of pumpkin pie? Did you have a hand in this?"

At the Ravenclaw table, Cho Chang looked at Ethan with a puzzled expression.

Having grown up in China, she knew a lot about hotpot. Even at Hogwarts, when the weather got cold, Ethan had taken them to the Room of Requirement to have it.

But now, Hogwarts combining Chinese hotpot with a local holiday seemed a bit odd to her.

"You've already had two meals with pumpkin today, haven't you had enough?"

Ethan didn't think it was a big deal.

The Hogwarts feast wasn't a formal event; it was just a bunch of young wizards eating and having fun together.

What difference does it make whether it's Western food or Chinese food?

"That's not the point. What I don't understand is how you got Dumbledore to agree to this."

She had been shocked when some Hufflepuff students told her the dinner would be hotpot, and they also mentioned Ethan had a hand in it.

In her mind, Dumbledore should not have been able to accept such a novel way of celebrating the holiday.

"Actually, it was all arranged by the house-elves. I didn't tell Dumbledore about it."

"What are you two talking about? You seem so happy."

Penelope sat down on Ethan's left.

"We're talking about hotpot."

"Oh, Tell me more"

And so, Cho Chang and Penelope sat on either side of Ethan, chatting with him.

Terry and the others, who were sitting not far away, looked at the scene and gave Ethan a thumbs up. They admired how he could have such a relaxed conversation with the two girls, instead of dueling with them using wands. Maybe they could learn from him.

Some of the older students in Ravenclaw were still single—perhaps they should ask Ethan for advice?

While they were chatting, Dumbledore arrived with the professors, signaling the start of the feast.

Dumbledore waved his wand, and the long tables of all four houses, including the staff table, were filled with steaming brass cauldrons, with alcohol lamps burning underneath. The rest of the table was filled with hotpot ingredients and dipping sauces.

Ethan, who had been keeping an eye on Professor Snape, clearly saw his expression darken when he noticed the cauldrons.

Although Snape wasn't quite sure what was happening, his knowledge told him this was definitely not potion-making.

If it wasn't potions, did this mean they were cooking food in cauldrons?

Realizing this, Snape glared at Dumbledore with murder in his eyes.

Dumbledore, of course, knew all about it and had agreed to it. But does he understand what a cauldron means to a Potions Master?

Looking at the colleagues around him who weren't surprised, all using tongs to serve dishes and mix dipping sauces, was I the only one kept in the dark?

Snape couldn't bear this grievance any longer and didn't want to endure it. He stared at Dumbledore with emotionless eyes.

"Great Headmaster Albus Dumbledore, do you know what you are doing right now?"

"Ah? Eating hot pot."

"It tastes really good, Severus. Come on, sit down and eat with us. Slow down, or the rings will be gone in no time."

Dumbledore, who was using chopsticks to place beef, mutton, beef balls, and other meats into the tomato-based pot, looked up at Snape blankly after hearing him and replied.

From his skillful actions—while the other professors used tongs and forks, with only Dumbledore using chopsticks—it was clear that Dumbledore had made a lot of hot pot in his office.

Perhaps other professors, under Dumbledore's lead, had eaten hot pot many times, judging by their skillful movements and Di's impatient looks.

Considering the recent temperature drop, the constant rainy days, and the steaming cauldrons before him, Snape became increasingly convinced that this idea was true.

"Hot pot?"

"This is a cauldron, an important tool for potions class and the most important friend of a Potions Master"

Snape broke down and displayed an angry expression.

In the days since he lost Lily, only potions and cauldrons kept him company. He would not allow anyone to use the cauldron like this.

Most importantly, he hadn't been included.

This feeling of being left out was utterly unbearable.

"Severus, I think you should listen to what others have to say."

Dumbledore gestured for Snape to look around. You regard the cauldron as a partner and friend, but others don't feel the same way.

The cauldron is just a tool, how it is used is up to its owner. Whether it's for making potions or cooking, it's a personal choice. Even if someone decides to sell the cauldron and use it as a urinal, it's their freedom.

That was Dumbledore's opinion.

Turning his head to observe, he saw the little Gryffindors struggling, almost fighting.

The Slytherins, lacking aristocratic grace, were sweating profusely while eating.

The Hufflepuffs had gone to other tables, recommending dishes to everyone.

There was also Ethan, sitting at the front of the Ravenclaw table, served by two young witches on either side, though his attention was clearly focused on Snape.

Snape remained silent. If this were potions class, he would have deducted points without hesitation, but now, he couldn't find a reason to.

"So, Severus, hurry up and start eating, or you'll only have green leaves left if you're late."

Dumbledore, still eating meat and avoiding vegetables, knew how to ease the situation at a critical moment.

Snape clearly wanted to lash out but didn't know how, and retreating would be awkward.

"You're the headmaster, you have the final say."

Snape responded coldly, then returned to his seat to eat with McGonagall and the others.

Surprisingly, despite the spiciness, it tasted really good, and the more he ate, the harder it was to stop.

Speaking of which, why was Dumbledore's pot different from his? And why wasn't McGonagall's red?

Ethan had deliberately chosen this seat, close enough to the teacher's table so he could observe everything. He thought Snape would explode in anger.

I really overestimated you, Snape.

When most people had finished eating, Dumbledore waved his wand, and all the cauldrons, plates, and uneaten dishes vanished. Even the tables were cleaned, and then various desserts and sweets covered the tables.

The lights in the hall dimmed, and a troupe of twelve performers ascended the stage.

The Troupe of dancing skeletons that Dumbledore had specially arranged for the evening made their debut.

The young wizards below greeted them with warm applause.

Ethan listened to the nearby wizards' conversations and learned a bit about the Troupe of dancing skeletons.

The Troupe of dancing skeletons was similar to ghosts. They were once wizards who didn't pass to the underworld or become ghosts. Instead, they transformed into this unique existence.

Before they died, they were a dance troupe, though not very popular. They only gained fame after turning into skeletons.

Especially on Halloween Eve, bookings had to be made years in advance.

If it weren't for Dumbledore's influence, he wouldn't have been able to invite them to perform at Hogwarts on Halloween.

But Ethan just couldn't appreciate their taste. Can skeletons in formal dress really look good dancing?

No matter how skilled they were, these skeletons weren't aesthetically pleasing.

As the stage lights came on, the Troupe of dancing skeletons began their performance. Without the limitations of flesh, they could perform all kinds of moves, but Ethan still couldn't enjoy it. It wasn't as exciting as watching a young lady's sexy dance.

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