Soon, the last two first-years were sorted as well.

When the tables filled with food, Ron had already seized two chicken legs and was feasting with unbridled enthusiasm.

Orli had to admit that Ron would make an excellent food vlogger. However, at that moment, even the most tempting dishes held no appeal, as her head felt ready to split open like an overripe watermelon.

Harry, nibbling on a pumpkin pasty, quietly reflected on the recent sorting:

#Harry "I thought I was some kind of freak, sitting up there for so long - probably longer than anyone else... I was worried I'd end up in Slytherin, or worse, be sent home. It's reassuring that Orli took about the same time... I mean, that makes it normal, right?"

He turned to Orli, his eyes seeking reassurance.

##Orli "...Of course."

Orli nodded weakly, the slight movement intensifying her headache.

#Hermione "What's wrong? Is your headache back?"

Finally noticing something amiss, Hermione, seated right beside Orli, set down her fork and grasped Orli's ice-cold hand.

Just as Orli was about to respond, Harry suddenly clutched his forehead with a sharp intake of breath.

#Ron "Is headache contagious or something?"

Ron lowered his chicken leg in bewilderment.

#Harry "No, it's just... when I looked at that professor..."

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Harry rubbed his scar while staring intently at the High Table.

Following his gaze, Orli wasn't surprised to spot the tall figure with greasy black hair and a prominent hooked nose. Those hollow black eyes were directed their way, filled with unconcealed contempt.

The next moment, a searing pain shot through Orli's brain like an electric current. She felt herself falling backward uncontrollably before everything faded to black.

---

When consciousness returned, Orli found herself lying in a single bed. White curtains enclosed all four sides, with wall sconces burning nearby, their light filtering through the thin fabric to cast a gentle yellow glow.

Orli tried to clear her head and shift position, but the bed frame betrayed her with a sharp "creak."

Footsteps approached, and one side of the curtain was drawn back to reveal a woman in white robes, who firmly but gently pressed Orli back onto the bed.

#Madam Pomfrey "Orli Waters, you fainted from extreme exhaustion and sleep deprivation. Rest easy now - you're in the Hogwarts Hospital Wing. You may call me Madam Pomfrey."

She ensured Orli was lying comfortably before tucking her in snugly. Though her touch was gentle, her tone carried maternal sternness:

#Madam Pomfrey "You're only eleven years old - I can't imagine how many nights you've stayed awake, or what could possibly cause such anxiety and tension. Don't you know that proper sleep is crucial at your age? Look at those dark circles under your eyes - I'd almost think someone had given you two black eyes. I'll give you some potions shortly; after drinking them and getting a good night's rest, you should feel better by tomorrow morning."

Orli nodded gratefully. Despite the reprimanding tone, the underlying concern warmed her heart - it had been so long since anyone had shown such care for her.

But before she could fully relax, sharp knocking echoed through the room. Madam Pomfrey wiped her hands on her pristine apron and strode to open the door.

#Madam Pomfrey "Oh, Severus, you're finally here. Term's just started, and the Hospital Wing is completely out of potions - I can't even find a single Calming Draught. This is absolutely dreadful..."

Another voice responded, deep and characteristically sardonic, words dripping with venom like a snake's forked tongue:

#Snape "This is hardly my fault, Poppy. After all, who could have anticipated that some foolish first-year would manage to land themselves in the Hospital Wing on the very first day?"