A round-faced girl hurried up the steps, almost pulling the hat entirely over her head.
The moment the Sorting Hat touched the tips of her hair, it announced loudly, "Hufflepuff!"
Cheers erupted from the table on the right, and gold and black scarves waved in the air.
Hannah ran towards her new companions, face flushed, nearly tripping on the steps, which drew a few ripples of good-natured chuckles across the Great Hall.
Name after name echoed through the Great Hall.
Every time the tattered hat announced a House name, the corresponding table erupted in enthusiastic cheers.
The applause from Gryffindor was always the loudest, and when the name Slytherin was called, a few mocking whistles even mixed into the crowd—they sounded like they came from a pair of red-headed The Twins.
The long wait was nearing its end.
"Elwin Gaunt!"
As Professor McGonagall's clear, forceful voice fell, several gazes from the staff table immediately converged on him.
Students at the Slytherin table also leaned forward, curiously observing this rumored last descendant of the Gaunt Family.
In the line of first-years, a girl with bushy brown hair and a slightly bewildered expression also widened her eyes in surprise.
Elwin seemed completely oblivious to the surrounding stares.
He walked forward steadily, stopped in front of the four-legged stool, glanced at the dusty old hat, and as if having made a decision, placed it on his head.
"Rude little one! I am a sacred relic left by the founders of Hogwarts; I have guided many outstanding Wizards to find their rightful place."
A voice echoed directly in his mind.
"Is that so? Such a great hat, in all these long years, has no one thought to give you a proper cleaning?"
"Why, of course they have! Two hundred years ago, a reckless Gryffindor boy threw me into the Black Lake and gave me a thorough soaking."
Elwin muttered to himself: Once every two hundred years, that is truly "particular."
"The bloodline of Slytherin, what is there to hesitate about—"
"Wait!"
Elwin interrupted urgently in his mind, "I want to go to Ravenclaw. Please let me go to Ravenclaw."
He repeated this wish silently, as if building a solid barrier.
"Why so persistent? You do possess a thirst for knowledge, but the ambition flowing in your blood, your yearning for the power of magic, all indicate that you belong to Slytherin."
"Bloodline shouldn't be the only standard, should it?"
Elwin argued, "You admit that I possess the traits of Ravenclaw. Aren't my will and my choice more important?"
He remained unshakable, focusing all his will on that single thought.
"...Very well, you stubborn little one."
The Sorting Hat's voice seemed to reveal a hint of helplessness, "If you promise to take the time to clean me thoroughly, I will grant your wish."
"It's a deal."
Elwin agreed immediately.
"If Ravenclaw knew about this, she would probably burst out laughing—Salazar has finally met his match this time."
The Sorting Hat's high-pitched announcement echoed through the Great Hall, and for a moment, all the young wizards were stunned, even the Professors at the staff table wore expressions of disbelief.
Just a moment ago, the tattered hat had clearly drawn out its tone, almost spitting out the four words "Slytherin," but had suddenly stopped at the very last second.
After a brief silence, it had actually changed its mind and shouted the name of another House.
Professor Snape's expression darkened instantly, as if covered in a layer of frost, and the surrounding air grew colder.
Since the founding of Hogwarts, never before had a student been able to so forcefully override the will of the Sorting Hat and choose their own affiliation under the eyes of everyone.
And now, this boy named Elwin had openly refused the invitation of Slytherin and turned to the embrace of Ravenclaw instead.
In the eyes of some, this was nothing short of a silent provocation.
Dumbledore's gaze, hidden behind his half-moon spectacles, quietly flickered with a hint of intrigue.
The descendant of the Gaunt Family had not walked towards the Slytherin table—this truly exceeded his expectations.
The Slytherin side had already reacted, their brief shock quickly replaced by indignation.
Icy, hostile gazes, like fine needles, pricked at Elwin who stood in the center of the Great Hall.
Several older students' fingertips were already pressed against the wands inside their robes, dark, ill-intentioned undercurrents rolling in their eyes.
Elwin, however, seemed entirely oblivious.
He placed the Sorting Hat back on the stool with ease, and in a surprisingly good mood, drew his own wand, the tip steady as he aimed it at the old hat that was still panting slightly.
"Aguamenti."
A clear stream of water surged from the tip of his wand, splashing onto the hat.
"Oh—! Ouch! Merlin... that feels great!"
The Sorting Hat cried out in comfort, its tip quivering slightly in the water, "You are a sensible child! Much better than that blockhead from two hundred years ago! A little more, yes, just like that—"
Elwin's mouth twitched slightly; where on earth did this hat learn these strange tones?
He ignored the hat's unfinished grumbling and turned to walk toward the Ravenclaw table.
By now, the other students in the Great Hall had gradually recovered from their shock, and enthusiastic applause and cheers erupted first from Ravenclaw and then from Gryffindor.
Especially a pair of red-headed The Twins, who jumped up from the Gryffindor table and shouted, waving their arms: "That was awesome, Elwin! You really should have come to us—that was just too cool!"
Before they could finish, they were pressed back into their seats by a slightly older red-headed boy beside them.
Elwin walked through the increasingly noisy crowd and arrived beside Cho Chang.
The girl looked up, her eyes filled with surprise and excitement.
He sat down beside her, his shoulder brushing against hers, and whispered in a voice only the two of them could hear: "I'm here."
"Welcome to Ravenclaw."
There was unconcealable joy in Cho's voice.
She gazed at the boy before her—the one who had broken a thousand-year Hogwarts tradition for her—and her heart melted into a warm, soft lake.
Elwin looked at the young girl before him, whose eyes sparkled with reverence and joy, and gently took Cho's hand.
The two whispered and chatted, their posture intimate.
The previous commotion gradually subsided, and the Sorting Ceremony continued.
When Hermione stepped up, her gaze briefly flickered toward Elwin, before she was sorted into Gryffindor as expected.
Next was Harry's turn, and a wave of excitement surged through the Great Hall once more.
As the Sorting Hat shouted "Gryffindor," thunderous cheers erupted from the table.
The Weasley Twins kept repeating, "We got Harry! We got Harry!"
But this clamor did not disturb Elwin and Cho.
They were immersed in their own conversation, as if everything around them did not exist.
This sight made the older girls of Ravenclaw sigh inwardly—such an outstanding new student, yet he had been claimed by Cho so early on.
The Sorting Ceremony finally came to an end.
Dumbledore stood up, and the noisy Great Hall fell silent.
He looked out at the packed hall, his gaze sweeping over every young face, a subtle, imperceptible comfort flashing in his eyes.
This school, these students, were the most vivid footnote to his life's work.
He looked around and spoke slowly.
"Welcome to you all, welcome to Hogwarts. Before we begin our feast, let me say a few words: 'Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!' Thank you."
With that, he sat down calmly, looking more like an easygoing elder than the man hailed as the greatest White Wizard of the century.
While everyone was still reeling, the empty plates on all the tables were suddenly filled with a sumptuous feast.
The dinner party officially began.
Elwin's gaze swept across the array of dishes on the long table—perfectly roasted steaks glistened with oil, mashed potatoes with rich gravy steamed, crispy fries and fragrant pork chops were arranged in between, and the hearty aroma of French onion soup wafted slowly through the air.
Although he had eaten plenty of snacks on the train, the boy was at an age where he was growing rapidly, and it seemed there was always room in his stomach.
He cut a thick piece of steak for himself without hesitation, ladled a full spoonful of gravy over it, and began to eat with focus.
Cho, sitting beside him, was not in a hurry to eat, just watching him with a faint smile.
Seeing Elwin eating with such focus, she naturally passed a few dishes to him and added some pea shoots and pudding to his plate.
Unknowingly, this act of caring gave her a sense of lighthearted joy.
Just as Elwin was immersed in this sumptuous dinner, a gaze that was hard to ignore fell upon him.
He looked up and saw an older boy sitting a few seats away, looking at them with an expression mixed with envy and curiosity.
Once noticed, the other party did not look away, but instead leaned forward slightly and lowered his voice: "Roger Davies, fourth year. You're quite something, getting the most charming girl in Ravenclaw to eat with you like this right after entering the House—do you have any secrets to share?"
Cho's cheeks instantly flushed a faint red, but she did not deny it, only lowering her eyes, her fingertips unconsciously stroking the folds of her napkin.
Elwin curled his lips, his tone light and teasing: "If you could grow up to be as handsome as I am, perhaps you would already be halfway successful. Of course, if you could also summon a Phoenix with your wand, that would be even more secure."
Cho couldn't help but gently pinch his arm, while she herself started to chuckle softly, the scene by the lake that day flashing through her mind once again.
Roger Davies watched the two of them bantering back and forth, feeling inexplicably stifled—so much for teaching me how to pursue girls; how did it turn into such an intimate scene in the blink of an eye, leaving him like a redundant bystander.
The feast gradually came to an end, and the tables, cluttered with cups and plates, were restored to neatness by magic, as if they had never been filled with food.
"Everyone, before returning to your dormitories, let us sing the school song together."
Dumbledore waved his wand gently, and golden runes appeared in the air like flowing water, weaving into lines of lyrics.
He raised his wand as a baton, his voice gentle but clear: "Ready—sing!"
Under his guidance, the entire Great Hall suddenly erupted into a chorus of uneven singing.
Everyone sang to their own tune, the melodies crisscrossing and mixing.
At the Gryffindor table, a pair of The Twins looked solemn, singing the school song slowly to a mournful funeral dirge, and their serious demeanor made Elwin's eyelid twitch.
The singing finally died down, and Dumbledore wiped the corner of his eye, reminded everyone of a few new semester precautions, nodded to "the savior," and then instructed the Prefects of each house to lead the students back to their dormitories.
The Ravenclaw male Prefect, Dietrich Wiggins—a sixth-year student—led everyone out of the dining hall, up the marble stairs, through a shortcut, and soon arrived at the towering tower.
A wooden door inlaid with a bronze eagle-shaped knocker stood quietly before them.
Dietrich stepped forward and touched the eagle.
In an instant, the bronze eagle seemed to come alive, asking in a low voice: "If one were to describe an unattractive girl as beautiful, what words would be most fitting?"
Dietrich did not answer immediately, but instead turned around, looking at the first-year students behind him with a hint of interest.
"Why not try answering it."
He smiled, "Ravenclaw has always appreciated unique minds; there is no fixed password here—as long as you have enough wisdom, our common room is always open. But if you cannot answer, even if you are a student of this house, you must wait for someone else to open the door."
He paused, his gaze sweeping over the young faces, "However, whoever can solve this problem will receive a room."
The new students whispered among themselves, but no one stepped forward.
Elwin's heart stirred.
A space to be alone was exactly what he needed—so many secrets could not be easily exposed to others.
He stepped forward and whispered two words to the bronze eagle: "A lie."
"Correct."
As soon as the knocker's voice fell, the heavy wooden door slowly opened inward.
The other young eagles cast envious glances; who wouldn't long to have a room all to themselves?
Dietrich smiled, leading them toward the dormitory area, finally ushering Elwin into a slightly compact bedroom.
Pushing the door open, Elwin's gaze slowly swept across the room—the environment was quite to his liking.
A wide double bed was positioned horizontally across the room, with a spacious desk standing on the right. To the left was a row of closets and a wooden door, behind which lay a small room for changing clothes.
Following the Prefect's instructions, Elwin inserted the slip of paper with his name on it into the rack at the foot of the bed.
Moments later, his luggage appeared quietly in the room.
He couldn't help but sigh, "Amazing."
This must have been a House-elf in the school sensing his presence and transporting the items here using Apparition.
Just then, the system's notification chime rang deep within his consciousness:
"Ding—Host enrollment detected. The daily task module is now officially open. Complete daily tasks to receive 100 Gold Coins; there is no penalty for failure."
Hearing this, Elwin summoned the system interface and carefully examined the new function.
This was currently his only reliable way to earn Gold Coins.
The daily tasks refreshed three missions each day; completing any two would grant the full reward.
For example, today's list:
[Cast Accio 0/10 times]
[Read "The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1" 0/30 pages]
[Spend 0/10 minutes playing with Furei]
Seeing this, a smile tugged at the corner of Elwin's mouth.
These tasks didn't seem difficult for now; at least they didn't require him to face Lord Voldemort on his first day.
After tidying his luggage, Elwin snapped his fingers crisply.
In an instant, a burst of fire flared, and the Phoenix Fureistretched its wings, appearing quietly from the void.
It landed lightly on Elwin's shoulder and pecked at the back of his hand with its beak, as if complaining about being ignored and not summoned all day.
"Alright, my mistake," Elwin stroked its bright feathers, "I was worried you might disturb my roommates."
He had originally planned not to bring Furei to Hogwarts—after all, arriving with a Phoenix on his first day would inevitably unsettle his roommates.
He had intended to make arrangements only after getting to know them.
As fate would have it, he was blessed with a room to himself, naturally avoiding that concern.
After playing with Furei for a while and practicing Accio ten times, today's tasks were easily completed.
Elwin's heart stirred, and he pulled up his status panel:
Host: Elwin Gaunt
Age: Eleven
The last day of October was his birthday.
The new school year at Hogwarts had just begun, and his name had just been added to the first-year roster.
The power sleeping within his bloodline was slowly awakening—it was the breath of the ancient Witch Spirit, gradually stirring with every breath and every thought.
magic power had quietly accumulated, and now it had surpassed the threshold of many adult Wizards.
He did not need to rely on any external extraction; his bloodline would naturally lead him forward.
The necklace hanging around his neck glowed faintly, capable of forming a barrier in times of crisis. Hidden inside his robes were several vials of potions, their labels inscribed with ancient words for good luck, inspiration, and instant recovery.
He was skilled in summoning, protection, and blade arts, and in those areas known as the "Dark Arts," his talent was almost innate.
When the morning light fell into the Great Hall through the high windows, he had already navigated many staircases that would rotate and disappear.
The Castle was like a living maze, and many freshmen had lost their way due to the moving staircases.
He had spent the entire morning memorizing the path to the Charms Class and the Great Hall—after all, the invisible guidance that accompanied him never provided a map.
At breakfast time, the Great Hall became more crowded.
He sat down casually at the long table, with steaming beef pie and carrot soup in front of him.
The food was simple but enough to comfort a young stomach.
He remembered the kitchen was near the Hufflepuffcommon room; perhaps he could go there another day to chat with the busy House-elves and teach them to make some different Oriental breakfasts.
But at this moment, he just wanted to enjoy the tranquility.
He had slept soundly last night, as if all his accumulations and expectations had melted into his dreams.
Today would be a brand new start; Charms Class was in the afternoon, and he was ready.
He gently put down his spoon, his gaze sweeping over the noisy crowd before drifting to the sky outside the distant arched window.
The Castle was waking up, and his path had just begun to unfold.
Having spent quite a few years here, Elwin still often thought of the steaming mornings from the past—golden-fried dough sticks, mellow soy milk, and savory tofu pudding drizzled with sauce.
With the cleverness of the House-elves, he imagined they would soon be able to learn these crafts.
To be honest, life at Hogwarts was simply leisurely.
As a freshman, his schedule was loose, with no classes at all on Thursday.
Waking up every day to a room that was already tidied—this treatment was even more comfortable than at home.
Just as he was lost in thought, someone tapped his shoulder lightly.
Elwin looked up to see Cho standing before him, followed by Marietta.
"Why didn't you wait for me?" Cho's tone held a trace of resentment. "You just arrived, and there are so many intersections in the Castle. What if you get lost?"
Elwin just smiled and gestured for the two to sit at the long table.
"I woke up early and had nothing to do, so I came out to get my bearings and familiarize myself with those moving staircases."
"What class do you have today?"
Cho didn't press the issue, nodding in understanding before flicking her wand lightly to make breakfast appear on the plate in front of her.
"In the morning, it's Professor Flitwick's Charms Class, and in the evening, I have to climb to the tower for Astronomy Class," Elwin replied.
"Professor Flitwick is a true master of Charms," Cho introduced, "and he is very patient with students."
Marietta interjected from the side, "I heard he has Goblinblood, and he even won the Dueling Championship back in the day."
Mentioning these rumors, her eyes lit up, and she shared various pieces of news she had heard from unknown sources with great interest.
Elwin listened with interest.
In his previous life, he hadn't read the original work, and he had watched the movie hastily a long time ago. He only vaguely remembered a few main plotlines and had a faint impression of the "adventures" that happened each year.
He had never expected Professor Flitwick to be so powerful—the Professor didn't have that much screen time in the movies.
After breakfast, Elwin invited Cho for a walk.
The two walked across the lawn in front of the entrance, strolled along the forest path, and unknowingly found themselves on the shore of the Black Lake.
Elwin tilted his head slightly and looked at the girl beside him.
The lake breeze was gentle, blowing a few strands of her hair and revealing her delicate profile—her nose was slender and straight, her lips soft, and he found himself momentarily distracted.
Cho noticed his gaze, and a faint blush appeared on her cheeks.
The afternoon sun shone obliquely through the branches of the ancient trees by the Black Lake, casting dappled golden spots.
Elwin stopped, his fingertips lightly brushing the back of her hand—a very restrained gesture.
Cho did not pull her hand away.
They sat down on the bench side by side.
The lake water spread out like black satin in the distance, and the outline of the Forbidden Forest loomed in the mist.
When the wind blew, he smelled a clear, grassy scent—he couldn't tell if it was the wild mint on the shore or the fragrance from her hair.
Silence spread between them.
Cho's shoulder tilted slowly, finally resting against his right shoulder, her weight as light as a fallen leaf.
Elwin lowered his eyes, his arm wrapping around her back, his palm hovering lightly on her other shoulder.
Further contact? Not necessary at the moment, and it shouldn't be.
The clock tower chimed faintly.
Cho straightened up, her fingertips brushing the folds of her skirt. "It's time for History of Magic," she said.
The two returned to the Castle along the gravel path and parted ways at the spiral staircase.
Elwin crossed the courtyard with its intersecting corridors alone.
The bedroom curtains were half-drawn, and the four-poster bed was shrouded in pale green shadows.
He fell into the fluffy goose-down pillow, letting sleepiness submerge his consciousness like a tide.
When he woke up again, the sun had moved past the window lattice.
The Charms Class classroom was located on the third floor of the Castle's west wing. When he pushed the door open, the front benches were already filled with whispering students.
This class was with Hufflepuff, and he didn't see the three figures who were always together in the crowd.
The seat by the window in the back row was still empty.
Elwin sat down, and the brown-haired boy beside him turned his head—Anthony Goldstein, the pure-blood boy whose family had served in the Department of Magical Transportation for generations.
On the long staircase to the common room yesterday, they had talked about improving the braking spell for flying brooms.
"Good afternoon." Anthony moved his open "The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1" half an inch to the side.
"Good afternoon." Just as Elwin finished speaking, the bronze bell above the door vibrated.
Professor Flitwick slid into the classroom almost at the last chime of the bell.
This master of Charms with Goblin blood had to stand on a stack of thick-skinned ancient books so the whole class could see him waving his wand.
He took out a roll of parchment and called each student's name in a singing tone—the rigorous pauses made Elwinfeel as if he were back in another time and space, watching a Professor scan a lecture hall with an attendance register.
After confirming everyone was present, Professor Flitwickput away the roster and braced his hands on the edge of the stack of books.
"Young witches and Wizards," his voice sounded like clashing silver bells, "Charms is not a branch of magic, but the axis upon which modern sorcery operates. Whether it is the barrier of Defense Against the Dark Arts or the morphological changes of Transfiguration—in essence, they are all different refractions of spell power."
He raised his hawthorn wand and drew a smooth arc in the air.
"And this school year, we will start with the practical spells closest to daily life. For example—"
The tip of his wand trembled slightly.
The podium suddenly lifted off the ground, floating to eye level like a feather, rotating slowly with a slight turn of Professor Flitwick's wrist, the oak table legs dragging light golden phantoms through the air.
"Levitation Charm." The Professor's voice hid a smile.
Then he flipped his wrist, and his wand pointed downward.
The podium dancing in the air suddenly collapsed into a transparent outline, like a pencil sketch erased by an eraser, without even disturbing the air as the wood vanished.
"And—the Vanishing Spell."
The young wizards in the classroom were all eager to try, their faces full of longing for new knowledge.
Professor Flitwick looked at the bright eyes before him, a smile of relief appearing at the corner of his mouth.
He waved his wand gently, and the previously vanished desk returned quietly, arranged neatly before everyone.
"The first spell we are going to learn today is 'Lumos'."
Professor Flitwick's voice was clear and gentle. "When casting the spell, please hold your wand steady and flick your wrist forward gently."
He demonstrated the rhythm of the incantation and the subtle nuances of the gesture in detail, then signaled for the students to begin trying.
For a while, the classroom echoed with uneven incantations.
Many students' wands remained motionless, while a few managed to produce a hazy halo at the tip, only for it to vanish in a flash.
Elwin drew his wand and whispered, "Lumos."
In an instant, a bright and soft white light bloomed from the tip of his wand.
With a slight movement of his mind, the ball of light flowed with it, shifting into brilliant colors.
"Excellent, Mr. Gaunt!"
Professor Flitwick almost floated over, his voice filled with irrepressible excitement. "Successful casting on the first attempt, and you even mastered the technique of light transformation—"
He raised his hand and wiped the corner of his eye, which seemed a little moist.
"You are too kind, Professor. I just flipped through the textbook in advance and practiced it a few times in private."
Elwin responded politely, though he felt a little helpless inside—it was just a basic lighting spell; to think it could make a Professor's eyes red. What on earth was the level of Professor Flitwick's past students?
When the bell rang, the first Charms Class concluded.
Because of Elwin's performance, Ravenclaw House won ten points.
The students left the classroom one after another, but Elwin stayed behind.
He still had questions to ask Professor Flitwick.
Seeing that only the two of them were left in the classroom, Professor Flitwick put away his lesson plan and asked gently, "Mr. Gaunt, is there anything else?"
"Yes, Professor."
"I would like to ask you a few more questions regarding the nature of spells."
"Please, come to my office for a detailed discussion, Mr. Gaunt."
Professor Flitwick said, turning to lead the way.
Elwin followed him through the corridor and into a spacious room.
The four walls were covered with towering bookshelves, densely packed with ancient texts.
Elwin's gaze swept across them, finding that most were related to Charms; many volumes had quite old bindings, clearly not mass-market prints.
Professor Flitwick took a seat behind his desk, while gesturing toward the chair opposite him.
Elwin understood and sat down.
"Would you like something to drink?"
"Plain black tea is fine, no sugar needed."
Elwin replied.
He had always maintained the habit of drinking tea, but he could never agree with adding sugar to black tea—did people here always have to mix sweetness into everything they ate and drank?
"An elegant preference."
Professor Flitwick smiled.
He lightly raised his wand, and a set of porcelain tea-ware with a warm glaze quietly appeared on the table.
The teapot and teacup then rose into the air on their own, steadily completing the actions of pouring water and tea.
"Exquisite control."
Elwin remarked while watching the scene.
"Thank you for the compliment."
Professor Flitwick took a small sip from his teacup and looked up, "So, what questions would you like to discuss with me?"
"It's about the practice of Charms, Professor."
"Before starting school, I had basically mastered most of the spells recorded in 'The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1'."
"But when I try to cast spells while skipping the incantations and the wand, I find it difficult to make a breakthrough."
Through daily systematic study and his own focused training, Elwin had indeed accumulated a considerable amount of spell knowledge.
However, once he tried to move magic silently or guide it barehanded, the process became exceptionally sluggish.
Non-verbal casting occasionally had sporadic moments of success, while Wandless casting completely failed to take shape.
"Oh?"
Professor Flitwick put down his teacup and leaned forward slightly, "I noticed your extraordinary talent from your performance in class."
"If you don't mind, could you demonstrate the techniques you've mastered so far?"
Elwin didn't say much.
His gaze narrowed slightly, and the scene from the classroom earlier reappeared: the teapot rose steadily, its spout tilting to refill the Professor's half-empty teacup with hot tea.
Then, with a light flick of his finger, the teapot along with the scattered water stains on the table quietly vanished.
After a final chant so low it was almost imperceptible, everything returned to its original state, as if nothing had ever happened.
Crisp applause rang out in the quiet office.
The applause echoed in the office, and Professor Flitwickwas so excited he almost jumped out of his chair.
"Excellent, Mr. Gaunt! If this were in my class, I would definitely give you twenty points—no, fifty points would be enough! Ravenclaw hasn't had a student like you in many years."
He took off his glasses and pulled out a handkerchief to wipe the corners of his eyes.
Elwin looked at the Professor's reddened nose and couldn't help but look away.
After his emotions calmed down, Professor Flitwick sat up straight again, his fingers lightly tapping the table.
He remained silent for nearly fifteen minutes before suddenly looking up.
"Mr. Gaunt, have you ever considered why we always have to say an incantation and use a wand when casting spells?"
Elwin was stunned.
He had never delved deep into this question before.
After a moment of contemplation, he spoke cautiously:
"I think chanting helps a Wizard focus their mind."
"The wand and gestures are like conductors that can awaken the dormant magic within the body."
"When the incantation, focus, and active magic become one, magic naturally occurs."
After speaking, he looked at the Professor, waiting for a judgment.
"A brilliant insight, already close to... the level of 'Outstanding' on an exam."
Professor Flitwick nodded approvingly, then changed the subject, "But you've missed one element—something most Wizards overlook, which we call 'Will'."
He lightly tapped his temple with his fingertip.
"Will?"
"Exactly."
"Chanting is not only a process of focusing attention, but also a process of pouring one's own will into the spell."
"Why are we Wizards? Because we believe something can happen, and through incantations, we turn that conviction into reality."
The Professor took a sip from his teacup and continued: "When you attempt Non-verbal casting, you need even stronger willpower."
"Since you've omitted the guidance of the incantation, you must find another way to inject the same level of determination into the casting process."
"Once you achieve this, Non-verbal casting will come naturally."
"Of course, magic performed this way will be slightly less powerful."
Elwin fell into deep thought, his brow furrowing unconsciously.
Professor Flitwick didn't rush him, simply adding a sugar cube to his teacup with composure, letting his thoughts settle slowly in the aroma of the tea.
A few minutes later, Elwin raised his wand and pointed it at a pure white quill on the desk.
The tip of the quill trembled slightly, then silently levitated into the air, as if gently held up by an invisible hand.
But as soon as his concentration wavered slightly, the quill drifted down like an autumn leaf, landing lightly back in its original place.
"Beautifully done, Mr. Elwin."
Professor Flitwick's voice was tinged with undisguisable joy, "You have found your own path."
"I must say, such comprehension is truly rare."
Looking at this young Ravenclaw student before him, a sense of gratification welled up in Flitwick's heart.
Over the years, the House Cup had been firmly held by Slytherin; although Ravenclaws were more immersed in the deep sea of knowledge and rarely distracted by such honors, as the Dean, how could he not hope in his heart that his own house could also hold that shining trophy.
And Elwin's appearance gave him a faint glimmer of hope.
For stars that truly shone, he was never stingy with providing direction.
"It was your guidance that saved me from many detours, Professor."
Elwin thanked him sincerely, then changed the subject, "So, what if I don't use a wand? Does it require even stronger control over one's will?"
"Indeed, Mr. Gaunt."
Flitwick nodded, "But that requires you to have a deeper understanding of magic itself."
"Wait until the third year; I suggest you consider taking Ancient Runes as an elective—that will open a whole new door for you."
"But for now,"
He smiled gently, "Let's focus on consolidating your foundation first."
"Ancient Runes... I understand."
Elwin grasped the deep meaning in the Professor's words; the purpose of today's visit had been achieved.
He rose to bow and quietly exited the office.
The corridor was silent as Elwin walked toward the Library, but the conversation from just now kept echoing in his mind.
Those words were like a beacon, illuminating the path ahead of him.
magic was never just a simple combination of incantations and waving a wand.
It was a vast, unknown territory where many Wizards could only touch the surface throughout their lives, finding it difficult to glimpse the mysterious essence hidden within.
Hogwarts' teaching philosophy had always been geared toward the entire British wizarding world, rather than just cultivating a few top Wizards, so classroom content usually didn't involve overly difficult theories.
Only when a student took the initiative to ask would teachers reveal the secrets hidden behind basic spells; as for most people, mastering practical applications was enough.
However, Elwin was not satisfied with this.
He yearned to understand the fundamental laws of how magic worked and to explore the deep secrets ignored by daily courses.
This pursuit led him to turn his gaze toward the ancient and obscure field of runes.
The Library was filled with the scent of parchment and old book covers.
Madam Pince—the serious Witch who viewed books as life itself—stood behind the counter, her gaze sweeping across the rows of long tables and bookshelves like a hawk.
Any action of turning pages too heavily or whispering would immediately draw her cold stare.
Elwin walked quietly through the reading area and stopped at the section labeled 'Basic magic Theory'.
He pulled out a copy of 'Ancient Runes Made Easy' by Sybill and Victor.
This was the designated textbook starting from the third year and would be used until the fifth year.
For him now, it was a suitable starting point.
He sat down by the window, immersed in those winding, strange symbols and annotations.
It wasn't until the dinner bell faintly rang that he gently closed the pages and returned the book to its original place.
"I should buy one of my own,"
He thought while walking toward the Great Hall, "Always coming to the Library is inconvenient after all."
"I can't use Furei—it's too conspicuous."
"I'll rent one from the Owl Post Office tomorrow... but I can't interrupt tonight, it seems I'll have to pay a night visit to the Library."
As for school rules? In Elwin's view, as long as no one witnessed it, a perfect night out never happened.
This was a creed from the inheritors of the Brotherhood.
Candlelight flickered in the Great Hall, and the long tables were already laid with meals.
Cho Chang had saved a seat for him.
As soon as Elwin sat down, his plate was piled into a small mountain by the House-elves—the portion was three or four times that of others.
Cho couldn't help but laugh. "Are you starving today?"
"Reading is extremely physically draining,"
Elwin replied vaguely, his mouth stuffed with roasted potatoes and meat pies, "I just came from the Library."
"Truly a Ravenclaw genius,"
Cho rested her chin on her hand, her eyes filled with a smile, "Professor Flitwick even mentioned you in Transfiguration Class today—you won the first house points of this school year for our house."
Cho had a teasing smile on her face, but she thoughtfully handed a glass of juice to Elwin to keep him from choking in his haste to eat.
Elwin gave her an indifferent glance and continued to focus on enjoying his dinner.
After leaving the Great Hall, Cho had no classes in the evening, so she returned to the common room with a few female companions to play Wizard's Chess.
Elwin, on the other hand, had to rush to the Astronomy Tower to attend tonight's Astronomy observation class.
Astronomy in the magic world was actually not much different from what Muggles studied—likewise staring at the starry sky through telescopes and recording the trajectories of the stars; the process even felt a bit dull, lacking the wonder of magic.
At nine o'clock in the evening, Elwin returned from the Astronomy Tower rubbing his sore eyes and flopped onto his bed as soon as he entered the dormitory.
After lying down for only a moment, he suddenly sat up again and shook his head vigorously.
"I can't be lazy, I still have to go to the Library."
He reminded himself silently.
Mastering the technique of Wandless casting early would provide an extra layer of security.
Many Wizards were completely defenseless once they lost their wands, like prey waiting to be slaughtered; the outcome depended entirely on the opponent's mood.
Elwin was unwilling to expose such an obvious weakness to others, so he had to cross this threshold as soon as possible.
Near midnight, he estimated that there should be no one in the common room, so he packed up briefly, cast a Disillusionment Charm on himself, and quietly walked out of the dormitory.
The common room was indeed empty, and Elwin secretly breathed a sigh of relief—usually quite a few classmates were used to studying here late into the night.
He lightly pushed open the door of the common room, stepped into the dim corridor, and walked toward the Library with light footsteps.
Filch and his cat were always like ghosts wandering in the night, specifically catching students who violated school rules; he didn't want to run into them head-on.
After entering the Library, Elwin retrieved the book he hadn't finished reading in the afternoon, hesitated for a moment, and decided to go deeper into the Restricted Section.
The location there was hidden; if someone were patrolling, it would be easier to hide.
He stopped at the innermost corner of the Restricted Section, pulled out his wand and whispered a Lighting Charm, standing the glowing wand beside him, and immersed himself in the pages by the light.
This book was just right for him now—every character of the Ancient Runes contained magic; even the interpretation of a single word was enough to write a thick monograph.
Elwin flipped through the pages of the old book one by one by the faint light flowing from the tip of his wand.
Although the content of this introductory text on Ancient Runes was simple, it happened to reveal fragments of the underlying logic of magic to him.
He needed such knowledge to solidify his understanding of the essence of magic.
At the same moment, hurried footsteps and suppressed giggles echoed in the corridor at the other end of the Castle.
"George, are your legs stuck by slugs? If you cause us to be caught by Filch, I promise to use this story as a side dish for every meal for the next six months!"
"Give it a rest, Fred! I just left a'surprise gift' for the caretaker. Quick, turn toward the Library!"
A pair of red-headed boys darted through the dimly lit corridor, like two flickering flames.
There was no trace of nervousness on their faces, only the irrepressible excitement of a prank successfully pulled off.
Shoving and laughing, the two gradually approached the area where the Library was located.
Amidst the rustling sound of turning pages, Elwinsuddenly raised his head.
His sharp hearing caught the sound of movement approaching from afar.
He tilted his head, though his hands did not stop their work.
The light from his wand abruptly extinguished, and an invisible ripple swept over him, concealing his form.
He returned the book to its proper place and moved silently toward the door.
Just as he stepped out of the reading area, he saw the famous Weasley Twins rushing toward him, chasing each other like two frolicking hounds.
Following closely behind them was the caretaker Filch, his voice a hoarse and furious roar:
"I hear you! You little brats, I know you're ahead! When I catch you, I'll have you scrubbing the toilets for an entire semester!"
The invisible Elwin closed his eyes in resignation.
He hadn't expected his carefully planned night reading to be disrupted by these two walking bundles of trouble.
He had taken every precaution, but he hadn't accounted for someone leading the caretaker into this quiet corner.
However, he did not intend to intervene.
The Twins were already third-years and had long since mastered the art of dealing with Filch.
Since his reading had been interrupted, he simply leaned against the wall, preparing to enjoy this impromptu farce.
As expected, the Weasley Twins were one step ahead.
They scattered some special bait, successfully luring Madam Norris in the wrong direction, and Filch's angry shouting gradually faded away.
Elwin, in the shadows, couldn't help but smile.
He remembered seeing this pair of pranksters on screen in his previous life; they could always brighten up a dark plot with their endless stream of tricks.
Yet, the joy of the memory was always tinged with a shadow of the future—in that war, one of those brilliant smiles would be frozen forever.
He shook his head gently, setting these distant thoughts aside for the moment.
Only one of The Twins would remain, left to walk alone from then on.
Elwin had sighed over this in his past life too, but that didn't stop him from wanting to play a trick on them right now.
After all, these Twins had disrupted his plans for a late-night stroll.
Watching the two ahead, who were completely oblivious to the trouble about to befall them, Elwin's lips curled into a mischievous smile.
He slightly raised his wand, and the helmet of a suit of armor by the corridor suddenly fell, crashing onto the floor with a deafening boom—
"Clang!"
The echo reverberated for a long time in the empty corridor.
The Twins, who had just passed by, whipped their heads around in shock, only to see a helmet rolling on the ground with no one else around.
In the distance, the faint screeching of Madam Norris and the hurried footsteps of Filch could be heard.
The Twins didn't have time to investigate; in their panic, they turned and rushed toward the nearby staircase, heading straight for the fourth floor.
Elwin suppressed a laugh, lightened his steps, and followed quietly behind them.
"Hehehe! Night-wandering brats, I'm going to tell Filch!"
Just as they reached the corner of the fourth floor, Elwinheard that shrill, strange cackle—it was Peeves who had discovered The Twins.
Peeves was floating through the Castle as usual, looking for an opportunity to make trouble.
Upon arriving at the fourth floor, he heard a flurry of panicked footsteps and immediately floated toward the sound with great interest.
Sure enough, he ran into The Twins fleeing in disarray, which delighted him to no end.
Although he loved causing trouble just as much as these Weasley boys, that didn't mean he would pass up the chance to tease them.
There could only be one King of Pranks at Hogwarts, and that was him, Peeves!
"Hee hee, little Weasley brats, caught by the great Peeves, haven't you?"
"As long as you are willing to say, 'The great Peeves is the most brilliant prankster at Hogwarts,' I might consider letting you off. How about that?"
Peeves grinned wide, cackling weirdly, and floated in mid-air, looking smug.
The Twins exchanged a look.
A brilliant smile bloomed on Fred's face as he looked at Peeves.
"The magnificent Peeves—"
George followed immediately, his tone light:
"Is indeed the person who knows how to find the most fun at Hogwarts."
The Twins exchanged a knowing look, then burst into a loud laugh, their voices so synchronized it was as if they came from the same mouth:
"It's obviously us!"
Before the words had even faded, the two had turned and dashed toward the right corridor, leaving behind Peeves, who was stomping his feet in the air in anger.
A suppressed chuckle came from the corner.
Elwin shook his head; this pair of brothers really never disappointed, not even forgetting to prank that troublesome ghost at a time like this.
"Who's there?!"
Peeves whipped his head around, and after his initial panic, he realized there was someone else hiding.
He narrowed his eyes and began to float around, searching.
Elwin had no intention of getting entangled with him.
His gaze swept over the chalk pieces scattered on the floor—evidently prepared by Peeves to attack students.
He raised his wand and whispered, "Waddiwasi!"
The scattered chalk flew up in response, shooting toward Peeves like a dense barrage of bullets.
This time they didn't pass through that translucent body but hit him solidly, making him howl in protest.
Peeves clutched his head, wailing as he fled toward the left corridor.
Elwin deliberately controlled the trajectory of the chalk to ensure he forced Peeves in the opposite direction of the Weasley Twins.
But the next second, he suddenly froze.
The right corridor... the fourth floor...
A familiar sense of alertness welled up in his heart.
At the opening feast, Dumbledore had explicitly forbidden students from approaching this area, which was exactly in this direction.
This was the place from the first year...
If The Twins accidentally broke in, they would come face to face with the Cerberus guarding the trapdoor—Fluffy.
Without knowing its weakness, that thing would be hard to deal with.
Even that Potion Class Professor known for his caution had once had his leg bitten by it, hadn't he?
Elwin did not hesitate; he tapped his legs with his wand, whispered a lightness charm, and then hurried to the right.
Before long, he saw the pair of red-headed brothers in front of an old door.
The two were enthusiastically studying how to open the door to this abandoned classroom.
Fred cast an Alohomora, and the lock clicked open.
The two squeezed inside excitedly.
Elwin pressed his forehead in resignation.
Dumbledore's protective measures were too sloppy; he hadn't even applied a basic anti-Alohomora charm.
It was almost as if he were afraid someone wouldn't find the entrance.
He followed quickly, and the scene before him instantly confirmed his worries—
A massive Cerberus was crouching on the trapdoor in the room, its three heads drooping, breathing heavily, seemingly deep in sleep.
A pungent, foul odor rushed toward him, and Elwinimmediately held his breath and focused.
What a hellhound, even its breath carried toxic miasma.
The twin brothers, however, hadn't been able to react in time.
It was unclear whether it was George or Fred, but the moment they smelled the stench, one of them blurted out, "That's nasty!"
—This exclamation was exceptionally abrupt in the silence.
The six eyes on the three heads opened simultaneously.
Two pairs of eyes locked onto the bewildered Twins, while the third pair turned precisely toward the corner where Elwin was hidden.
The Disillusionment Charm could confuse vision, but it couldn't hide the scent of a living person.
That head and neck suddenly reared up, erupting into a deafening roar, and its massive body bore down on the two frozen figures like a black cloud.
The brothers were not cowed; they drew their wands almost simultaneously, and two beams of Impediment Jinx shot out.
Unfortunately, the magic of third-years was ultimately shallow; the giant dog only staggered slightly before shaking its head and body, its attack continuing without hesitation.
Elwin no longer remained hidden; he dispelled the Disillusionment Charm and revealed his form.
"Depulso!"
Red light burst from the tip of his wand, slamming into the Cerberus's flank like a heavy hammer.
A dull thud exploded, and the massive creature was completely knocked away, slamming heavily into the stone wall behind it, shaking dust down in torrents.
The Twins looked in astonishment at the third party who had suddenly appeared.
But Elwin had no time to explain.
He knew well the resilience and magic resistance of this magical creature; a single knockback spell could at most temporarily slow its actions.
"We must use music to lull it to sleep... otherwise, the commotion will sooner or later attract the patrolling Professors, or even the Headmaster."
In a flash of thought, he shouted to the twin brothers: "Sing! Sing that one you adapted for the Sorting Ceremony!"
Although they looked suspicious, they did not hesitate in their actions.
The next moment, the mournful and slow tune of the "Funeral March," overlaid with the lyrics of the Hogwartsschool song, echoed eerily in the dim space.
Fortunately, the Cerberus was not picky; after the music started, it stopped attacking, slowly moved back to the trapdoor, and lay down.
Elwin signaled The Twins to follow him as they slowly backed out of the room.
The three closed the door silently, and he also cast a locking spell for good measure, only then letting out a soft sigh of relief.
Turning around, Elwin was slightly startled—The Twinswere crowding him on both sides, their two pairs of bright, shining eyes full of inquiry.
The two exchanged a look with great tacit understanding, then simultaneously reached out and hooked their arms around Elwin's shoulders.
"My dear Mr. Gaunt, we really have to thank you for that! I'm Fred, and this guy next to me is my brother George."
The one on the left said with a grin.
"Silly Fred, I'm the older brother, okay?"
The one on the right retorted immediately.
Hearing that form of address, Elwin's mouth couldn't help but twitch.
Mr. Gaunt... that title was really awkward.
Seeing their mischievous expressions, Elwin did not want to be outdone; he straightened his collar and said seriously: "Two Mr. Weasleys, I have been sent by Headmaster Dumbledore to protect you both. You may call me the 'Guardian'."
His tone was serious, and Fred and George were momentarily taken aback.
"Did the Headmaster really send you? Could he have discovered our night wandering?"
Fred couldn't help but ask in a lowered voice.
George also became nervous—even though they were always daring, they still held some awe for the Headmaster.
"Of course not, I snuck out myself."
Elwin rolled his eyes in resignation and then explained.
"So that commotion earlier was caused by you!"
The Twins exclaimed in unison.
"I stayed in the Library a little longer, and you ended up leading Filch right to me."
Elwin shrugged.
"But we didn't see you at all earlier—what kind of magicwas that? The Disillusionment Charm?"
George didn't pay any attention to the previous sentence, only staring at Elwin and asking, his eyes flashing with eager anticipation.
If they could learn that trick, they wouldn't have to fear Filch and his cat anymore!
"It is indeed the Disillusionment Charm. If you want to learn it, you'll have to find information in the Restricted Section. I learned it by accident."
Elwin didn't hide it.
He was quite fond of this pair of pranksters—if the time was right, he would even like to borrow that Marauder's Map from them to study.
George and Fred exchanged a look, the same spark dancing in each other's pupils.
The Restricted Section? That had never stopped the Weasley Twins.
Elwin stretched his shoulders and back; he had spent half the night messing around with these brothers, and it was late, time to return.
"I have to go. If you two young masters have nothing else, I'll be taking my leave."
He deliberately drew out his tone, his voice filled with teasing.
George and Fred were not angry; instead, they grinned.
This friend was a stand-up guy; when there was fun to be had, he really dared to join in.
"You really should come to Gryffindor, Gaunt."
George gave a sincere thumbs up; Elwin's personality was just too much to their liking.
Compared to their honest and simple younger brother Ron, the person in front of them was much more interesting.
Elwin waved his hand casually, didn't say anything more, and turned to walk away along the corridor.
As for which direction The Twins turned—it certainly wasn't the way back to Gryffindor Tower.
He didn't look back, but he knew very well.
In front of the Ravenclaw common room, he reached out and touched the bronze eagle-shaped door knocker.
The eagle's eyes immediately shimmered with a faint light and came to life.
It never cared whether visitors violated school rules; it was only loyal to its duty.
"Two fathers and two sons went to buy hats, why did they only bring back three?"
"Because there were three generations: a grandfather, a father, and a child."
The door slid open quietly.
Elwin stepped into the common room, subconsciously looking up—and froze in place.
A figure stood quietly beside the entrance to the girls' dormitory, staring blankly at him.
"Cho Chang?"
"Elwin?"
The two spoke almost simultaneously.
Elwin asked first, "Why are you here?"
"I came to get this 'Quidditch Training Guide'."
After Cho Chang answered subconsciously, she suddenly realized—it seemed she wasn't the one who should be questioned. "Why are you back so late? Where did you go?"
Facing her clear gaze, Elwin knew he couldn't hide it.
He sighed softly and recounted the events of the evening: why he had left the common room alone, how he had run into The Twins in the corridor, and even the episode leading to the fourth floor, all of which he told her truthfully.
Upon hearing how he had secretly played tricks on Fredand George, Cho Chang laughed until she couldn't straighten up, almost falling over.
But when the topic turned to the Cerberus, her expression tightened suddenly, only relaxing when she heard the monster's weakness, and then her eyes lit up with excitement.
"That's amazing, Elwin! You've only been enrolled for two days and you already dare to sneak out at night—I've been here for over a year and I've never tried that! Next time something like this happens, you must take me with you."
Looking at her eager appearance, Elwin clicked his tongue inwardly.
Did the seemingly quiet and gentle Cho Chang hide such an adventurous spirit deep inside?
But thinking about it, after all, she was a future RavenclawSeeker, and the blood of longing for adventure flowed in her bones.
He raised his hand and ruffled Cho Chang's hair, his eyes filled with indulgent amusement.
"Sure, next time there's something interesting, I'll definitely tell you.
But not these next few days—I only go out at night to read, it's very boring."
Feeling the warmth from his hand in her hair, Cho Chang looked up and smiled at him, nodding obediently.
The two chatted in low voices for a while longer before returning to their respective dormitories to rest.
***
The next morning, Elwin walked with his Ravenclawclassmates toward the underground classroom, preparing for Potion Class.
In the corridor, they met Gryffindor students also rushing to class. Harry waved at him in a hurry, but before he could say much, he was pulled away by his companion.
Perhaps due to the subtle changes triggered by Elwin's arrival, the number of Hufflepuff freshmen this year was exceptionally high, almost equal to the sum of the other three houses.
Therefore, the school adjusted the arrangements: starting from their year, Hufflepuff would have separate classes, while the other three houses would be taught together.
So, in today's Potion Class, Ravenclaw would be studying with Gryffindor and Slytherin.
As he walked into the dim classroom, Elwin suddenly remembered he hadn't checked in yet today.
He murmured in his heart:
"System, check in."
"Ding—Congratulations to the host for obtaining [Advanced Potions Knowledge] (Purple Quality)."
Not bad luck.
Elwin's eyebrows twitched slightly.
Added to the one he had obtained before, his Potion level was now no less than that of a top student in the fourth year.
Ever since he embarrassed Snape at the Sorting Ceremony, he had expected that this Professor would definitely try to save face in Potion Class.
He had just been worried about not being able to handle it, and the System had sent help just in time—it was truly a timely rain.
Elwin couldn't help but smile inwardly: System, you are truly my good helper.
The bell struck its final chime, and the black-robed figure appeared on time under the stone porch.
Severus Snape walked into the classroom, bringing a gust of cold air, his robe hem billowing behind him like the wings of a night raven.
The texture and folds of that black robe reminded Elwin of the same thick ink he had seen in his own living room months ago—perhaps all of this Professor's clothing was cut from the same roll of night.
He did not look aside as he swept past the student tables, stepping directly into the shadows of the podium.
His gray gaze swept over the young faces of the three houses, pausing for three heartbeats on a certain red-haired boy, and lingering even longer in the eyes of the boy with the thin scar on his forehead.
The roll call register unfolded between his gaunt fingers.
His voice was like water seeping from the depths of a cellar, steady and cold, each syllable wrapped in a layer of invisible frost.
The names on the list were read out one by one, yet a fine needle-point seemed to show through the flat tone.
"Elwin Prince."
Snape looked up.
The boy did not look away, calmly meeting that scrutinizing gaze.
Only a glimmer of apology floated in his eyes—he still remembered that evening before enrollment, how the expectation in this Dean's eyes had gradually cooled into a statue-like silence.
Choosing to turn away from Slytherin was not aimed at this mentor, but simply because he could not tolerate certain things lurking in that underground hall.
The black-robed Professor's gaze lingered on that touch of apology for a moment before dropping back to the register.
"Harry Potter."
His voice suddenly dropped lower, like a snake's belly sliding across a stone slab, "Ah, yes... our new—famous figure."
A suppressed hiss came from somewhere in the classroom.
Elwin didn't need to turn around to know it was Malfoyand his gang.
The blond boy's provocative gaze pierced across the long table, but he only looked at Harry beside him.
The black-haired boy was adjusting his sitting posture uncomfortably, not yet realizing that this was just the first snowflake falling in a long winter.
Snape ignored the commotion below the stage.
He closed the register, pressed his hands on the edge of the podium, and spoke into the silence of the room in that slow tone, like brewing a Potion.
The classroom was filled with the scent of aged medicinal herbs, and the torches on the stone walls cast the folds of Snape's black robe into dancing shadows.
His voice was not loud when he spoke, but it was like some viscous liquid slowly seeping into everyone's eardrums.
"You have stepped into this room to learn the precise art of brewing and preparation."
He paused, his gaze sweeping over the young faces, "There are no flashy tricks with a wand here, so for some, it probably doesn't count as real magic."
"I do not expect you to appreciate the beauty of steam rising as a gentle flame licks the cauldron, nor do I expect you to understand the magic of how those liquids, once seeped into the blood, can make one forget themselves and shake their will."
A barely perceptible arc crossed his lips, "But I can show you how to distill fame, brew glory, and even... briefly trip up the footsteps of Death."
As his voice fell, the classroom was so quiet that one could hear the faint sound of sparks bursting in the fireplace.
Before the students could recover from those words, Snape suddenly turned toward the Corner.
"Potter."
His voice suddenly cooled, "If you add powdered asphodel bulb to an infusion of wormwood, what do you get?"
Harry was stunned.
His mind went blank, and those plant names swirled in his ears like strange spells.
He opened his mouth, but in the end, he only raised his eyes in confusion.
Not far away, a girl with brown curly hair was about to leap from her seat, her arm stretched straight into the air, but Snape's gaze passed right over her.
Elwin leaned back in his chair, quietly watching this familiar opening.
The prologue of this entanglement had thus begun; in the years to come, these two would be torn repeatedly between hatred and bonds.
However, at this moment, the question Snape posed reminded him of an analysis he had read in another world—the metaphors hidden deep within the words.
For instance, "asphodel".
In ancient language, it metaphorically means "my regrets will follow you to the grave."
Elwin couldn't help but speculate, when Snape gazed at that face which inherited the father's contours but was embedded with the mother's eyes, what kind of emotions were surging within him? Was it hatred for the former bully, or the never-fading guilt for the life lost because of his own slip of the tongue?
This thought caused his eyes to be tinged with a complex pity when he looked at the black-robed Professor again.
Snape keenly caught that gaze.
He did not understand why this transfer student suddenly revealed such an expression, but he instinctively felt it was not awe or curiosity, but a kind of soft pity, almost like... looking at a drowning animal.
This caused a slight discomfort in his throat.
He turned sharply, his black robe cutting a sharp arc, his cold gaze locking onto Elwin like a nail.
"Mr. Gaunt."
His voice was harder than the cellar's stone walls, "You will answer the next three questions."
Elwin was stunned for a moment—he hadn't expected this sudden Q&A to fall on him.
But he recovered almost immediately, answering clearly and fluently:
"Mixing powdered asphodel bulb into an infusion of wormwood can create a powerful Draught of Living Death.
Bezoar must be taken from the stomach of a cow.
As for Monkshood and Wolfsbane, they are actually the same plant, usually collectively referred to as Aconite."
He answered all three questions in one breath, even giving Professor Snape a nearly ingratiating smile.
Snape's chest tightened slightly.
This kid not only answered perfectly, but his smile also hid a few points of calm provocation.
He did not pause, immediately throwing out the next question:
"If you want to prepare a Strengthening Solution, how should you treat the fig?"
"Peel it."
"What Potion can Moonstone be used to make?"
"Draught of Peace—but it needs to be ground into powder beforehand."
"What is the main difference between Dreamless Sleep Potion and the Draught of Living Death?"
"Dreamless Sleep Potion has a strong hallucinogenic effect; perhaps it would be more appropriate for the Professor to compare it with Confusing Concoction."
The other students below were already dumbfounded.
They watched the back-and-forth Q&A in front of the podium, everyone feeling their scalp tingling, falling into a daze similar to Harry Potter: Where is this? What on earth are these two talking about?
Snape took a deep breath and finally stopped questioning.
He sneered sarcastically:
"As expected of a descendant of the Gaunt Family."
"You keep knowledge you shouldn't have mastered yet ready to show off."
Elwin felt helpless inwardly—since you know this isn't content that should be learned at this stage, why bother asking?
Seeing that it was difficult to find a flaw in Elwin, Snapeturned his sharp tongue back to Harry Potter:
"Did you understand, Potter? It seems not all freshmen are as dull and ignorant as you..."
"Look at the students of other houses..."
"Professor, I—"
Harry tried to retort in anger, but was mercilessly interrupted by Snape.
"For your stupidity, Gryffindor loses one point!"
He then glanced at Elwin.
"Ravenclaw gains one point."
Before the words fell, he coldly added:
"Next time you answer a question, remember to add 'Yes, Professor'."
"For your rudeness, Ravenclaw loses two points."
Elwin pressed his lips shut.
At this moment, any explanation would only become an excuse for Snape to deduct points.
The classroom was deathly quiet, the other students even lightened their breathing, but Snape's gaze still swept across every pale face like an ice pick.
"What are you staring at me for?"
His voice was low and cold, "Is the recipe written on my face? Start writing!"
After a pause, as if he had accumulated enough disgust, he squeezed out from between his teeth:
"I have never taught a batch more dull than you."
***
In the subsequent practice session, Snape divided the students into pairs.
To block Hermione from secretly assisting Harry, he deliberately moved her to Elwin's side.
Thus, Elwin's original partner, Michael Corner of Ravenclaw, was paired up with Hermione's seatmate, Lavender Brown.
Elwin looked up at the girl who had been arranged in front of him.
Her thick, fluffy curly hair was a bit frizzy, yet it made her face look exceptionally delicate.
Although her slightly prominent front teeth broke a bit of perfection, they added a touch of childish vividness.
—She was quite an uncut gem.
He nodded slightly to Hermione as a greeting, then lowered his head to fiddle with the medicinal materials on the table—or rather, a pile of indescribable ingredients.
Hermione, however, seemed a bit hesitant, her fingertips rubbing against the edge of the open textbook a few times before she finally spoke in a low voice:
"Elwin Gaunt... did you attend Garden Primary School before?"