Tamara Riddle casually tossed the still-shivering Sorting Hat, which seemed to be suffering from schizophrenia, back onto the stool, and descended the steps gracefully amidst the burst of applause from the Slytherin table.
She ignored the complicated glances cast by the Gryffindor table and walked straight toward the long table reserved for the elite and the purebloods.
"Over here! Tamara!"
Draco Malfoy excitedly patted the empty seat next to him, even going so far as to kick Goyle, who was trying to squeeze closer, to the other end of the bench.
Tamara sat down beside him and gave a slight nod, acknowledging Malfoy's eagerness.
"I knew you'd come to Slytherin." Draco's pale face showed a sense of pride as if it were an honor he shared, making it seem as though Tamara joining Slytherin was his own arrangement.
At this moment, Dumbledore stood up at the staff table.
He looked at the students with a beaming smile, spreading his arms wide, seeming happiest when seeing the hall full of students.
"Welcome!" he said. "Welcome to Hogwarts for a new school year! Before the feast begins, I have a few words to say: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!"
"Thank you!"
He sat down again, and everyone applauded and cheered.
"Is he mad?" Harry quietly asked Percy at the Gryffindor table.
Meanwhile, at the Slytherin table, Tamara merely sneered.
"Just pretending to be crazy," she commented internally.
But that wasn't important. What was important was that when she looked down, her previously empty plate was instantly piled high with food.
Roast beef, roast chicken, pork chops, lamb chops, sausages, steak, boiled potatoes, roasted potatoes, chips, Yorkshire pudding, peas, carrots... The rich aroma instantly wafted into Tamara's nose.
To be honest, she was hungry.
The cabbage soup that resembled dishwater and the rock-hard black bread at Wools Orphanage were an absolute torture to the human digestive system.
And this developing body was currently sending strong signals of protest to her brain.
She picked up her knife and fork, preparing to cut off a small, perfectly roasted lamb chop, maintaining a ladylike portion.
However, just as her fork touched the plate.
Draco Malfoy, sitting next to her, suddenly frowned and kicked Goyle, who was sitting opposite.
"Goyle, what are you looking at?" Draco said in an arrogant tone he usually reserved for servants. "Can't you see Miss Riddle's plate is empty? Does a lady have to serve herself? You have no initiative."
Goyle, who was gnawing on a chicken leg, paused, clearly not grasping the situation immediately.
"Serve her some of that roast beef! It's the specialty here!" Draco commanded, clearly treating the act of directing his crony to serve Tamara as a way to display his status.
"Oh... oh!"
Goyle hastily put down his chicken leg and grabbed the large serving spoon.
In his simple mind, he perhaps thought that generous hospitality meant giving a lot, or maybe he simply thought Tamara was too thin and needed to be as robust as he was.
So, Goyle wielded the spoon as if he were shoveling coal.
Whoosh!
A heaping spoonful of roast beef landed right on top of the small lamb chop Tamara had carefully selected.
"And pork chops!" Draco was still directing.
Splat!
Two thick, fried pork chops were stacked on top.
"Mashed potatoes!"
Plop!
A large blob of mashed potatoes, still oozing gravy, sealed the top.
Watching Goyle's crude movements, Tamara's fingers tightened around her knife and fork, her knuckles turning white.
"That's enough," she said coldly.
"You idiot!" Draco also realized Goyle had overdone it and scolded him disdainfully. "Are you trying to bury the whole plate? Who could possibly eat all that?"
Goyle blinked his small eyes innocently, looked at the pile of meat on his own plate, which was even larger than Tamara's, and then looked back at her.
"It's fine."
Tamara took a deep breath, striving to maintain her outward elegance. She put down her knife and fork, ready to push the plate of despairing food aside and get a clean one.
However, the instant her finger touched the edge of the plate.
[Ding! Detecting host attempting to waste food.]
[Triggering Virtue Daily Quest: Every Grain is Hard Work.]
[Quest Description: Do you know how many children in this world are starving? For example, the 'you' in the orphanage.]
[Wasting food is an extremely shameful act, especially when it is the result of the hard labor of the Hogwarts House-elves.]
[Quest Objective: Eat all the food on the plate; not even a single pea is allowed to remain.]
[Quest Reward: life +2, Constitution slightly enhanced.]
[Failure Penalty: Loudly burping in public for three minutes.]
Tamara's hand froze.
She listened to the voice in her head in disbelief.
"Are you serious?" she roared internally. "This single plate is enough for that Troll! You want me to eat all of it? I'll burst!"
[host, please rest assured. Your body is currently in a critical period of growth and development, and due to long-term malnutrition, while your stomach capacity is small, your absorption needs are great.]
[The System will assist you with rapid digestion—no one will die.]
[Please commence your Clean Plate Action!]
She definitely couldn't eat this much, but she certainly couldn't lose face in public either.
"Gregory Goyle."
Tamara mentally engraved this name at the top of her Death Blacklist, ranking him above Harry Potter.
She picked up her knife and fork again.
"No need to change it." She flashed a murderous smile at Goyle, who was about to reach out. "Thank you for your... enthusiasm."
"Since it has been served, it cannot be wasted."
Having said that, she forked a huge piece of beef and shoved it into her mouth.
The next twenty minutes were a shocking eating broadcast for those near the Slytherin table.
The seemingly delicate and fragile Tamara Riddle.
Was currently consuming the mountainous pile of food on her plate with an incredibly elegant yet astonishingly fast pace.
"Merlin..." Pansy Parkinson, sitting opposite, stared at Tamara dumbfounded, forgetting to move the fork in her hand. "She... she looks absolutely famished."
"You wouldn't know it," Blaise Zabini raised an eyebrow, finding this new classmate interesting. "How can such a slender body hold so much food?"
Only Tamara herself knew how much pain she was in.
As the food continuously went down, her stomach was stretched to its limit. Even with the System's digestive assistance, the physical feeling of fullness was very real.
"System... I can't do this anymore..."
She pleaded internally, "If I eat any more, I'm going to throw up."
[Keep going, host! Just the last half pork chop and two spoonfuls of mashed potatoes! For the sake of not burping! For the glory of Slytherin! Sprint!]
Tamara felt physiological tears welling up in the corners of her eyes.
She took a deep breath, forked the last piece of meat, and, with a tragic sense of facing death, shoved it into her mouth.
The moment she swallowed, she felt the food pressing right up to her throat.
[Ding! Quest complete: Every Grain is Hard Work.]
[Reward issued: life +2.]
Tamara didn't even have the strength to curse the System anymore.
She slumped in her chair, her normally straight back now forced to lean slightly backward, while one hand secretly loosened the belt of her robes under the table.
Too full.
She now felt like a python that had swallowed an entire cow, wanting only to coil up in a warm place and digest for a month.
"Wow, Tamara, you're amazing."
Goyle looked at the sparkling clean plate and offered sincere praise, as if he had found a kindred spirit. "I thought girls like you only ate tiny portions."
Tamara turned her head and gave him a dazed look full of resentment.
"Shut up, Goyle." Draco pushed Goyle away dismissively. "Don't measure Tamara by your standards."
At this point, the remaining food vanished from the plates, replaced by dessert.
Ice cream of various flavors, apple pies, treacle tarts, chocolate cakes... "Hey! There's a pudding here!" Goyle raised his spoon again, seemingly eager to demonstrate his serving spirit once more.
Tamara instantly straightened up, though the movement almost made her vomit.
She smiled, staring at Goyle: "Thank you, but if you insist on giving me any, I'll have to stab your hand with this fork."