The Sorting Hat had just finished its song. The last of the first-years scampered to their respective tables, wide-eyed and nervous. Conversations swelled again, filling the space with noise.

Just as plates began to fill with food, Headmaster Dumbledore rose from his chair at the staff table. He didn't need to speak—just the movement was enough. The chatter died down in waves, table by table, until only silence remained.