The twins start chanting, "We got Potter! We got Potter!"

Then Thomas, then Tolipan, then Turpin, and finally "Weasley, Ronald!"

Who is sent to Gryffindor almost as quickly as Malfoy was sent to Slytherin.

"Congrats," she tells him cheerfully. "I hope Dayo can handle that prat--I think McGonagall said his name was Malfoy?"

"—oh you met Malfoy? Dad says his dad's terrible, was a Death Eater too but said he was Imperiused but Dad doesn't believe it..."

(Meanwhile McGonagall calls "Zabini, Blaise!" who's a Slytherin but then the she rolls up her scroll and takes the Hat away.)

"At Madame Malkin's, yes."

Ron makes a face and is about to say something but—

Headmaster Dumbledore gets to his feet. He's beaming at the students, his arms opened wide, as if nothing could have pleased him more than to see them all there.

"Welcome," he says. "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 sits back down. Everybody claps and cheers.

"...Is he always like that?"

"Oh, yes. He's brilliant, but—quite a bit mad. Potatoes?"

And indeed, the dishes in front of Dorea are now piled with food: 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.

Oh wow. She doesn't think she's ever seen this much food in one place before in her life.

The ghost that seems to like hanging around the Gryffindor table looks mournfully at it.

"...Are you okay?"

"I haven't eaten for nearly five hundred years," says the ghost, a bit sadly. "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!" says Ron suddenly. "My brothers told me about you—you're Nearly Headless Nick!"

"Nearly Headless?"

He looks extremely miffed, like this little chat isn't going at all the way he wants. "Like this," he says irritably, then seizes his left ear and pulls. His whole head swings off his neck and falls onto his shoulder as if it's on a hinge. Someone obviously tried to behead him, but did not do it properly. 

"Whoah."

There are similar expressions of surprise from other students, which apparently please him. He flips his head back onto his neck, coughs, and says, "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."

"Does every House have one?"

"Yes—there's the Fat Friar, Hufflepuff's ghost, he doesn't even remember his name anymore, and the Grey Lady, who does not talk, for Ravenclaw."

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

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

"I can think of a lot of ways to die that involve being covered in blood."

"And most of them not very nice, which is why I didn't ask and suggest you not ask either."

She nods solemnly.