Chapter 24
"The good-looking kind."
"I think the bravest people are always the first to take action," she countered in a clever way.
Well, there's no helping it...
The bravest person, Soren, had no choice but to take the plunge for the sake of this honor.
"Alright then, I'll take—" his fingertips moved back and forth before finally selecting one, "this pink one. I'm guessing it's strawberry-flavored."
After choosing, he tried to smell it, but the producer had clearly anticipated this; not only did they coat the bertie botts every flavour beans in a layer of glutinous rice shell, but they also removed any scent.
Resolutely preventing any form of cheating...
It's really hard not to wonder what kind of mentality the person with pica had when they created this snack.
"Fine... it's food, after all. Trying it shouldn't be fatal..."
Comforting himself with a few words, Soren flicked his finger, popping the pink bertie botts every flavour beansinto his mouth.
After chewing twice, he fell into a long silence.
"How is it? Is it good?" Hermione watched his expression and asked curiously.
"Not bad..." Soren nodded, feigning enjoyment, and handed the candy to her. "You should try it too..."
His acting was superb, successfully deceiving the naive Hermione.
Soon, Hermione picked an orange bertie botts every flavour beans and popped it into her mouth with great interest.
At first, her slightly chubby cheeks were moving adorably, like a little squirrel eating nuts, but in less than three seconds, her expression froze.
After shooting Soren a look of near "hatred," she covered her mouth with one hand, her body trembling as she let out a suppressed moan.
Soren was also nearing his limit; he abruptly opened his mouth, gasping for air. His cheeks turned red rapidly, and a layer of fine sweat broke out on his forehead.
Neville, sitting opposite them, was stunned and asked them in horror: "What... what flavor did you get?"
Soren shook his head for a while before answering painfully: "Some kind of super, super spicy chili..."
Hermione struggled to keep her saliva from flowing out: "Super sour lemon..."
The two locked eyes and suddenly had a moment of telepathy, understanding each other's intentions.
Thus, they teamed up to let Neville witness the "malice of humanity."
"Eat—" Hermione said concisely.
"It's your turn, eat up—" Soren shoved the entire bag of bertie botts every flavour beans in front of him, looking like he would force-feed him if he didn't comply.
Neville could no longer get out the words of refusal he originally wanted to say, and with tears in his eyes, he picked a green one.
"It's mustard flavor!" Soren asserted.
"Moss or tree roots!" Hermione had a different opinion.
Under their malicious gazes, Neville steeled his heart and ate the bertie botts every flavour beans.
A few seconds later, he told them with a strange expression: "It's green apple flavor, it's actually quite good..."
""You cheated!""
Soren and Hermione could not accept this result, but they really didn't want another round.
If your luck is bad enough, a single bertie botts every flavour beans can make you remember it for a lifetime.
That's a bit too realistic...
To alleviate the spicy pain in his mouth, Soren quickly opened the Chocolate Frog, grabbed the frog as it was about to jump, stuffed the whole thing into his mouth, and chewed vigorously.
Hermione beside him followed suit, using the chocolate to soothe the tooth-aching sourness.
While they were consuming their recovery items, Nevillekindly explained:
"I didn't cheat. In the Wizarding World, apart from a small group of fanatical bertie botts every flavour beansenthusiasts, very few people can distinguish the flavor of the beans before tasting them. Don't count on reading them by color either; it's said that the producer of bertie botts every flavour beans colors them based on a color chart, and there are dozens of shades of red alone."
Soren deeply detested such guys who went to great lengths to trick people; he quickly put the bertie botts every flavour beans as far away as possible, not wanting to touch the damn thing for a while.
Once the taste stimulation subsided, he finally had the mood to check the card he had drawn.
On the moving magic card was an elderly wizard wearing black robes, with a long white beard and a formidable hairstyle, his aura as biting as a cold winter.
Just by making eye contact with him, Soren felt a sense of crisis as if needles were pricking his back.
This was a very dangerous, very powerful wizard, and his name was—
Image: "Salazar is watching you", Location: "Images/1773461814-100471970-114575069.jpg"
Soren remained silent and motionless for a long time, drawing the attention of the other two.
As a native of the Wizarding World, Nevillesubconsciously assumed he had encountered a common problem for novice card collectors:
"Don't worry, it's normal for there to be no one on the card. Not all wizards like to stay in the cards; they sometimes leave for a while."
"No... I'm just a bit surprised."
Soren withdrew his gaze from the name at the bottom of the card and turned it around so the two curious babies could see the real face.
Neville, sitting opposite him, leaned his upper body forward a little, but after seeing the image clearly, he recoiled violently, as if he had seen something terrifying.
"Merlin—Salazar Slytherin! How did you draw him..."
Hermione looked at him in confusion: "Isn't this one of the four founders of Hogwarts? Isn't it good to draw this card?"
"Well... how should I put it..."
Neville kept licking his lips to ease his nervousness. "This card itself is very valuable, and many wizards from Slytherin House are willing to pay a high price for it. But if it comes to Sorting, definitely don't go to Slytherin House. Really, anywhere is better than there..."
Soren Reed and the Magic Library: Chapter 37 The train is about to arrive, ahead is—your faithful Hogwarts Castle!
"Why do you say that? What's wrong with Slytherin House? Tell us more; we're both from the Muggle Worldand lack understanding of Hogwarts."
Hermione had long been curious about the specific details of the four houses.
If she hadn't been busy helping Neville find his toad, she likely would have run off to ask other students about the houses. Now that she saw Neville seemed to be an insider, she quickly pressed him for answers.
Under her repeated urging, Neville struggled for a long time before speaking in a tone that clearly hid some secrets:
"Since you want to know, I'll tell you what I know..."
"First, about Slytherin House... my grandmother says that most of the dark wizards in Britain come from here; it's a school specifically for training bad guys. The students Slytherin recruits are usually those evil, cunning, shrewd, and ambitious guys. They also place special emphasis on bloodline and background, and look down on Muggle-born wizards..."
Speaking of this, he quickly glanced at the two people opposite him.
Hermione understood immediately; it seemed unlikely that she and Soren would go to Slytherin, as they were both pure Muggle-born wizards. But that was fine; that house had a terrible reputation.
Neville continued—
"Gryffindor, which is hostile to Slytherin, is considered the best of the four houses. They value courage, daring, and chivalry.
The current Headmaster of Hogwarts, the greatest wizard of the age—Dumbledore, graduated from this house. If I could, I would actually like to go to Gryffindor..."
"Next is Ravenclaw, where only the most intelligent and talented students can go. It's said that those who aren't smart enough can't even enter the common room. I think both of you meet the selection criteria for Ravenclaw."
"Finally, there's Hufflepuff. I've heard... that students the other houses don't want are all sorted here, because Helga Hufflepuff, one of the four founders, was a gentle and kind lady who treated all students with kindness."
"I think... I'll most likely go to Hufflepuff, because I don't have much talent, and my memory is especially bad..."
Having said so much in one breath, Neville hurriedly took a sip of pumpkin juice and fell back into an anxious state.
Opposite him, Hermione was also thinking at full speed, analyzing the pros and cons of the four houses.
Judging only from the information Neville provided, Gryffindor and Ravenclaw were both very good choices, but she didn't know where she would be sorted...
Right, there's also Soren.
Hermione turned her head to look at him, silently pondering: Soren is both smart and hardworking, definitely meeting Ravenclaw's standards, but he is also brave and fearless, undoubtedly the type Gryffindor would like.
This made it troublesome; she quite wanted to be sorted into the same house as Soren...
"Soren... which house do you want to go to?" Unable to think of an answer, she simply asked directly.
Soren pretended to be deep in thought, and after a few seconds, he gave his answer: "I'm not sure. I think since sorting is based on character, the result probably won't change due to personal will, unless it's the kind of student who would be fine in any house, only then might there be a certain degree of autonomy."
He didn't respond directly, but instead spoke a lot of correct nonsense to avoid interfering with Hermione's sorting result.
Another reason was that the information Neville provided was mixed with too much subjective speculation; apart from the description of Gryffindor being relatively accurate, the descriptions of the other three houses all contained errors.
But he couldn't frankly correct the other party, so he just brushed it off.
Hearing Soren say this, Hermione's attention was successfully diverted, and she no longer agonized over the correct answer. After all, they didn't even know how the sorting worked, so there was no point in discussing it.
After the sorting topic ended, Hermione picked up her magic card and looked at the biography on the back with great interest.
Soren curiously tilted his head and took a look—
What Hermione drew was Artemisia Lufkin, the first female Minister for Magic, who established the Department of International Magical Cooperation during her tenure.
Fortunately, what Neville drew was just a relatively ordinary character with no symbolic meaning; otherwise, Soren would really have suspected that the magic cards were prophetic tools.
In the next few hours, they shared snacks together and swept away all the food except for the bertie botts every flavour beans.
When the sky outside the window grew dark and the train broadcast reminded students to change into their school uniforms, they reluctantly stopped talking and began to act.
This time it was truly ladies first.
The two men temporarily avoided.
Before leaving the compartment, Soren considerately pulled the curtain on the inside of the door for Hermione, then stood in the aisle to guard the door for her.
About five minutes later, Hermione came out to let them in.
It took less than ten minutes for the three of them to change into the standard Hogwarts student outfits—
A plain black work robe, a pointed wizard's hat for daytime wear, and a name tag stitched onto the robe.
Considering it was early autumn, this outfit was just right.
After changing into their school uniforms, the three new wizard apprentices gathered together to look at each other.
Neville, whose appearance and figure were in an awkward phase, automatically became invisible and withdrew from this fashion show.
The remaining two locked eyes and seriously looked at each other.
In Hermione's eyes, this slightly old-fashioned wizard attire unexpectedly suited Soren very well. He already had black hair and black eyes and was incredibly handsome; paired with a black robe, he had a scholarly, intellectual temperament, making him look even better...
In Soren's eyes, Hermione, whose looks hadn't yet reached their peak but was still cute and adorable, was also easy on the eyes, making him want to pinch her little cheeks... Of course, he held back, afraid of scaring the little girl.
Perhaps they didn't realize it themselves, but when the two looked at each other silently, they were quietly emitting a sour smell that was unbearable for single dogs.
Neville didn't think that much; he had used up at least a month's worth of courage to make a difficult decision—pointing out a common sense mistake Hermione had made a while ago.
"Hermione..."
His stuttering voice drew the eyes of the other two. "You were wrong about something just now."
Hermione tilted her head in confusion, signaling him to continue.
Neville cringed, bit the bullet, and spoke up to correct his friend's mistake:
"You were asking everyone you saw just now why they didn't practice spells privately before school started; that question was wrong from the start.
In wizarding families, adult wizards always teach their children not to try casting spells randomly; they must learn under the supervision of experienced older wizards, preferably in a school with complete security measures, before formally starting to learn.
Because our magic is strongly linked to emotions, and young wizards often find it difficult to control their emotions, this can lead to the risk of random spellcasting and magical backlash.
Of course, the magic in the first-year textbooks is the most basic and simple, and generally won't cause big problems, but it's still recommended to act with caution; this is considered common sense in the Wizarding World..."
"Is... that so?"
Hermione realized suddenly, only then discovering that she had seemed a bit too self-righteous before. If it hadn't been for Neville reminding her, she might very well have made a fool of herself due to a lack of common sense.
"Ah... sor-sorry, I might have indeed been a bit carried away..."
After realizing her oversight, Hermione didn't stubbornly persist; she bravely admitted her mistake.
Seeing her attitude was so humble, Neville breathed a huge sigh of relief; he didn't have to worry about losing this friend because of it anymore.
"You don't have to overthink it. When we get to school, the professors will definitely help everyone make up for the missing common sense. By the way, let me tell you one more thing—in the face of knowledge, we should remain humble; no one is always right."
Hermione looked at him in surprise, as if she were only just truly getting to know him.
Neville stuttered again, hurriedly explaining: "Th-this—this isn't what I said; this is a proverb left by Rowena Ravenclaw."
"Anyway, thank you for telling me all this; it's a great help to me."
Hermione still thanked him, a look of shame appearing on her face.
Chapter 25
Soren Reed sat quietly to the side, very pleased to see that both of them had grown.
He knew clearly in his heart that Hermione's "stressed" behavior today was inseparable from the tension of entering the Wizarding World for the first time and the anxiety of leaving her family; once she calmed down, she shouldn't be so aggressive anymore... right?
Thinking of Hermione's popularity and behavior in the original work, he suddenly felt unsure again.
Not long after, the Hogwarts Express began to slow down, driving into the rolling mountains.
Under the deep purple sky, the mottled tree shadows on both sides of the tracks seemed to exude a mysterious magic, causing the noisy carriage to quiet down.
Finally, the last announcement came over the train's loudspeaker:
"All students and passenger friends, please prepare to disembark. In five minutes, the train will arrive at the Hogwarts terminal. At that time, please mark your luggage with your names. We will deliver your luggage to your respective residences after the Sorting Ceremony concludes, so please do not worry.
Finally, we wish you a school life at Hogwarts filled with knowledge, friendship, and happiness, and that you find the meaning of your own life. — The entire staff of the Hogwarts Express."
In this final collective blessing, Soren Reed heard the voice of the female trolley witch, but he soon had no time to pay attention to anything else, for the train had entered the station and was about to arrive at his loyal Hogwarts Castle!
Soren Reed and the Magic Library: Chapter 38: First Day of Meeting, Successfully Holding Hands with Hermione!
In the anxious wait, the train's speed became slower and slower, and finally, it came to a stop.
The three of them were in line, moving slowly with the crowd, carrying only their wands.
After getting off the train, the chill of the night blew against their faces, refreshing the passengers.
Soren Reed stood in the crowd, looking around, wanting to see the "small, dark platform" mentioned in the original work.
Regrettably, they were in the middle of the train, and there were simply too many people around, all of whom were older students who were taller than them, blocking his view completely, so he couldn't see anything.
With no other choice, Soren Reed had to abandon his sightseeing idea and instead turned his attention to Hermione.
Don't misunderstand; he wasn't trying to do anything bad, he just simply felt that in this crowded situation, he needed to protect Hermione well to avoid her being separated by the crowd.
To achieve this, he resolutely reached out with his left hand and grabbed Hermione's right wrist.
The young girl's slender wrist was as soft as expected, with delicate and smooth skin.
"Ah!?"
Hermione was startled and turned her head only to find it was Soren Reed.
"Stay close to me, there are too many people here, don't get separated." Soren Reed instructed her solemnly, his demeanor natural and composed.
"Oh... o-okay."
Hermione was nervous and uneasy at this moment and didn't think too much, subconsciously moving closer to him to avoid getting lost.
Seeing that she didn't resist, Soren Reed appeared to be observing the surroundings on the surface, but in reality, his lips curled up slightly.
First day of meeting, the hand-holding plan was a great success!
Everything is difficult at the beginning; as long as he did this a few more times, he imagined Hermione would soon get used to this level of intimate contact.
As for Neville...
Soren Reed noticed him out of the corner of his eye, and then... there was no then.
Boys need to experience more challenges to awaken the courage sleeping within them; this was also for his own good!
Before he could observe more, they were pushed along by the tidal wave of people, and it wasn't until they were near the exit that they saw the guide for the new students — the gamekeeper Harry spoke of — Rubeus Hagrid.
Hagrid, who had half-giant blood, was burly and tall; even just standing there, he was a head taller than everyone else, making him exceptionally conspicuous in the sea of people.
He waved his enormous, fan-like palms and shouted loudly: "First-years! First-years over here!"
When Soren Reed looked through the gaps in the crowd, he saw Harry and Ron were already beside Hagrid, speaking to him in low voices.
In view of this, he immediately decided — wait a little longer!
That's right — cherish life, stay away from Harry Potter — Soren Reed had not forgotten his own code of conduct.
As fellow first-years, getting to know and becoming friends with Harry was no problem, but he just couldn't keep crowding around him. If he really irritated Dumbledore and got snapped at, that would be trouble.
With this consideration, Soren Reed deliberately slowed his pace, hanging at the end of the new student queue, following Hagrid from a distance.
Harry and Ron, walking at the very front, saw them, but they were too far apart, so they could only wave their hands and give up the idea of squeezing over to join them.
Just like that, they followed the crowd down a steep, narrow path.
Behind them, the noise of the older students gradually faded away, soon disappearing into the night.
Walking down the hillside, entering a path through the woods, and turning a few more corners, the end of the road was suddenly cut off by a black lake.
In the night, the lake surface reflected a faint, eerie light, making people unable to help but wonder if any secrets were hidden in the deep lake bottom.
"Ooh!"
The new students let out bursts of loud exclamations, hesitating and stopping their steps.
Hagrid, who was leading the way, laughed heartily and turned back to shout at them: "Don't stop, keep walking; we are going to take boats to Hogwarts Castle. Little ones, open your eyes wide; this is the route that the four founders walked back in the day, and only new students have such an honor upon entering the school!"
Upon hearing this, the line of new students moved instantly, scrambling to run to the shore.
There, dozens of small boats were quietly moored.
According to Hagrid, each boat could hold four people, no more, no less.
This rule was just great — even if Harry and Ron wanted to come over and team up with them, they wouldn't be able to solve the problem of having one extra person.
In the end, they had to choose another boat, sharing it with two other new students they didn't know.
On Soren Reed's side, it was still the three of them; most other new students also came in groups, with few being left alone.
After all the new students found their seats, Hagrid counted the numbers, muttered something under his breath, and took an empty boat all by himself.
"Don't be afraid, little ones, you are very safe, just enjoy this journey. Get ready — off we go!"
Amidst the high-pitched shout, the small boats carrying the new students moved without wind, guided by magic, heading toward the depths of the lake.
On the way, everyone was extremely excited, examining the wonders around them with excitement, with only the soft sound of rippling water in their ears.
Unknowingly, the voices at the very front of the boat fleet suddenly disappeared.
The new students in the back caused a stir, craning their necks to look.
Then, their voices disappeared too —
Turning a corner, at the end of their line of sight, the massive castle towering into the clouds stood on top of the cliff. When seen for the first time, that tangible impact shocked the soul of every first-time viewer.
Especially when they approached the cliff, the castle, which was almost right above them, appeared even more massive.
"Heads down!"
Seeing that the new students were all distracted, Hagrid hurriedly shouted a reminder, making them pay attention to the vines hanging down from the cliff.
Subsequently, the boat fleet passed through the ivy curtain covering the front of the cliff, arriving at a hidden, open entrance.
They continued along a pitch-black tunnel, passing several interesting sights, and finally arrived in front of a huge oak door.
Behind this door was the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry that everyone had been longing for!
Hagrid could fully understand the mood of the new students at this moment, so he neatly and decisively raised his hand to knock on the door, summoning the next person to take over and complete the handover of the new students.
Professor McGonagall, wearing emerald green robes, exchanged a few words with him, stepped aside to pull open the door, and led the new students further inside.
The luxury and grandeur of Hogwarts Castle once again shocked the young wizards, causing them to fall silent collectively, immersed in the marvelous exploration.
Not long after, the noise arose again, as if hundreds of people were hiding behind the door to their right, talking animatedly.
Professor McGonagall, however, led them to the new student waiting room on the other side and turned to look around the room.
Unlike Hagrid, whose physique was extraordinary, Professor McGonagall's appearance was unremarkable, just like an ordinary middle-aged or elderly witch.
But when she pressed her lips together tightly and straightened her face, that overwhelming teacher's authority suppressed the whole room, making the new students not dare to act out in the slightest.
She was obviously very satisfied with this effect and was about to speak, but her gaze suddenly fixed, glaring at a certain spot in the front row.
At that position, it happened to be the Soren Reed trio squeezed together.
After noticing Professor McGonagall's gaze, Soren Reedsubconsciously looked to the right, his mind still thinking of that scene in the movie — Trevor disturbing Professor McGonagall.
However, Neville, standing to his right, had a blank expression, his hands empty.
Soren Reed only then remembered that Trevor had already been retrieved early and was now in Neville's trunk.
Then who was Professor McGonagall glaring at?
He checked repeatedly, then suddenly looked to the left, meeting Hermione's gaze as she looked over.
Both of them realized something at the same time and lowered their heads together.
From the moment they got off the train, Soren Reed's left hand had been holding Hermione's right wrist, holding it the whole way, and he hadn't let go even while on the boat.
So Professor McGonagall was glaring at the two of them...
"Chortle..."
On the left and right, the new students who also saw the truth snickered quietly, not caring at all about the plight of the two people involved.
Hermione's face instantly turned bright red, and she hurriedly shook off Soren Reed's hand.
Soren Reed had thicker skin and could barely keep his composure, pretending to be nonchalant.
Seeing that the two students of opposite sexes were finally not holding hands, Professor McGonagall let out a heavy breath through her nose, memorizing their appearances, planning to discipline them after school started.
Holding hands as soon as they were in the first year, what kind of behavior is that...
Soren Reed and the Magic Library: Chapter 39: The Sorting Ceremony Begins
After a somewhat funny little interlude, the new students finally heard the long-awaited welcome speech.
"New students, welcome to Hogwarts, the place where you will learn, live, and grow for the next seven years. I also wish you success in gaining friendship and knowledge here, and... romance that blossoms after graduation."
Professor McGonagall's opening remarks, which were serious yet contained a bit of wit, received unanimous acclaim from the new students.
— Except for Hermione, whose skin was too thin and who wished she could turn invisible on the spot.
"The opening feast is about to begin. You will undergo the Sorting Ceremony under the witness of all the students, staff, and special guests. Before that, I want to briefly introduce the four houses to you: Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin —"
Following Professor McGonagall's narrative, the new students had a better understanding of Hogwarts, but what made them feel uncomfortable was — even at this juncture, they still did not know the specific situation of the Sorting Ceremony, as if all those in the know were colluding to hide it from them...
After using a vague approach to introduce the basic situation of school life, Professor McGonagall kindly reminded them: "You still have a few last minutes of preparation time; I suggest you tidy yourselves up well to enter in your best state."
After saying this, she left alone, leaving the waiting room to the new students.
After a silence so short it could be ignored, the new students all started moving; some were busy tidying their appearance, some were desperate to use the restroom, and there were also those like Soren Reed, who continued to be busy brushing up favorability.
"Hermione..."
He called out to Hermione in a low voice, and seeing she didn't respond, he tugged at her sleeve again.
Hermione had originally been lost in thought, still pondering the bit of information Professor McGonagall had revealed in her mind. After being disturbed by him, her just-cooled cheeks showed signs of heating up again.
"Wh-what is it?"
Thinking of how the two of them had held hands the whole way — although this absolutely had nothing to do with dating, just normal behavior — she was still feeling lingering fear, giving rise to a panic she herself didn't quite understand.
"There are a few leaves in your hair; hurry up and clean them off before the Sorting." Soren Reed pretended to be completely unaware, reaching out to point at her messy, curly brown hair.
Concerning the Sorting Ceremony, Hermione had no mind for anything else and hurriedly started to clean it.
Soren Reed deliberately didn't remind her; only after she had finished tidying up did he reach out behind her ear and pinch a missed leaf: "There's no mirror here, you can't clean it yourself. Don't move, let me help you."
While saying this, he helped Hermione clear the fallen leaves and conveniently smoothed out her hair for her.
This action originally didn't amount to much.
But having just experienced that incident, Hermione was in a state of fluster; at this moment, seeing him so close to her and his hands touching her hair from time to time, she was so nervous that her breathing became irregular.
In a trance, not knowing if ten-plus seconds or several minutes had passed, Soren Reed finally stopped his hands, stepped back half a step, and returned to a safe distance.
Hermione's hanging heart relaxed, and she thanked him stutteringly.
Soren Reed smiled gently, choosing not to continue provoking her, and instead turned his attention to his own appearance.
Just as Hermione breathed a sigh of relief and was preparing to say something, panicked screams came from the back of the new student group, causing a commotion.
Immediately after, the new students saw twenty-something terrifying ghosts passing through the walls, floating past both sides of the crowd as if they were strolling down the street, pointing and gesturing at them.
Among them, Soren Reed recognized several ghosts that were well-known and named in the original work.
The appearance of the ghosts made the new students agitated and uneasy, and it wasn't until Professor McGonagall returned that this panic was somewhat alleviated.
Do not be afraid, ghosts are also residents of Hogwarts, they will not harm students. You have more important things to do now—come on, form a single line, and follow me."
Led by Professor McGonagall, the first-years walked out of the waiting room, crossed the entrance hall, and arrived behind those magnificent double doors.
Not long ago, the noise had been coming from behind these doors.
When they reached the doors, the magnificent gates opened automatically, revealing the grand Great Hallbehind them.
Thousands or even tens of thousands of magic candles floated in mid-air, reflecting the magnificent starry sky on the ceiling.
Students from other years were seated around four long tables, hundreds of eyes staring in unison at the line of first-years. Some particularly naughty twins even made weird noises at the new students, only to be sanctioned by a Prefect.
The weak, pitiful, and helpless first-years were all nervous, following closely in Professor McGonagall's footsteps; at first glance, it looked like a mother duck leading a group of ducklings.
Under the watchful eyes of the older students, they were brought to the front of the hall—directly in front of the teachers' table, where a solitary three-legged stool stood, and on the stool sat an old, pointed wizard's hat.
Upon arriving, Professor McGonagall directed them to form two lines, with the stool as the dividing line, standing face-to-face so the teachers and students on both sides could see the faces of the first-years.
For those with social anxiety, this scene was no less than an execution.
Fortunately, there were enough first-years that everyone crowded together, barely managing to huddle for comfort.
Soren Reed stood with Hermione as usual, with Neville, Harry, and Ron alongside them. In the line opposite them, Malfoy was glaring at them, but he was completely ignored by the group.
Once everyone was in position, Professor McGonagallraised her hand and pressed it down gently, making a gesture for silence.
Immediately after, amidst the bewildered gazes of the first-years, the wizard's hat on the stool suddenly came to life. It twisted the folds of its fabric, forming a wide slit that looked like a mouth, with depressions resembling eyes above it.
After successfully squeezing out structures resembling facial features, the hat began to sing loudly:
"You may think I am not pretty, but do not judge by appearances. If you can find a smarter hat than me, I can eat myself."
...
Not just the first-years and older students, but even the school staff who had listened to the Sorting Hat's song for decades listened with great interest.
Out of the corner of his eye, Soren Reed saw Dumbledoreeven waving his wand gently, as if keeping time for the Sorting Hat.
The singing, not exactly melodic but quite interesting, lasted for over a minute before finally reaching the finale—
"Come, put me on! Do not be afraid! Do not panic! In my hands (though I have no hands) you are absolutely safe, because I am a thinking magic hat—!"
As the singing ended, the entire hall erupted in thunderous applause.
The Sorting Hat bowed to the teachers' table and the four dining tables one by one, then looked around at the first-years, winking at them and eliciting a few chuckles.
After listening to this song, the first-years finally understood—the Sorting Ceremony was so simple, just wearing this hat.
"Damn Fred, he tricked me so badly..." Ron, standing next to Neville, muttered in a low voice, then quickly shut up and lowered his head when Professor McGonagall looked over.
Subsequently, Professor McGonagall unfurled a long roll of parchment and announced the official start of the sorting.
The first name—"Hannah Abbott!"
The famous "Iron Hat King" from the parallel world had finally returned to her three-legged, wooden "Iron Throne."
The Sorting Hat took only a short moment to send her back to her destined place—"Hufflepuff!"
On the black and yellow long table to the right, a cheer erupted, celebrating their house's successful start.
Next, the sorting ceremony proceeded in an orderly fashion.
"Terry Boot!"
"—Hufflepuff!"
The second first-year was also sorted into the most populous house, Hufflepuff. It wasn't until the third student that someone was sorted into Ravenclaw.
This time, the second table on the left clapped and cheered; their long table was covered with a beautiful blue tablecloth.
Soren Reed stood in the crowd, observing the first-years of his year calmly. He discovered a problem that wasn't serious but couldn't be ignored, regarding—the number of first-years.
In the original work, Rowling only created about forty students in Harry's year.
But the first-years appearing before Soren Reed were definitely more than forty; this was also evident from the names he had no impression of.
A rough count showed at least seventy, perhaps even eighty people.
This was not incomprehensible; after all, there was no need to write down everyone's name when writing a novel, and there were always those marginal characters with little presence, silently acting as background props.
This discovery made Soren Reed somewhat happy because, in this way, Ella might still have a chance.
While he was thinking, Professor McGonagall called out Hermione's name. Soren Reed quickly pulled back his thoughts, gave her an encouraging look, and watched her trot over to put on the Sorting Hat.
Bystanders could not hear what the Sorting Hat said to each student; he could only see that the Sorting Hat took some time before making a decision: "Gryffindor!"
—A result as expected. Hermione ran happily toward the farthest dining table on the left. When she passed the first-years, she turned her head to look at Soren Reed and silently mouthed a few words to him.
It seemed to mean "I'll go wait for you there."
Soren Reed kept a smile on his face, but sighed slightly in his heart.
Ambitious and brave Gryffindor... If he said that, would the Sorting Hat believe him?
No matter how conflicted he was, the sorting ceremony continued unshakeably. Not long after, Neville was also called.
The Sorting Hat took a long time to unearth the courage hidden in his heart, sorting him into Gryffindor.
Neville looked overjoyed; he stood up and ran, still wearing the hat, which caused quite a scene.
After that, there was a group of students, some familiar, some strange. Soren Reed didn't pay much attention to them, until Harry appeared—
The famous Harry Potter, the absolute protagonist of the original work and a renowned figure in the Wizarding World, attracted the attention of the whole hall as soon as he stepped out.
His sorting process was also bumpy; the Sorting Hat's slightly abstract face was full of thought and hesitation, taking longer than anyone else's to make a decision.
When "Gryffindor" echoed through the Great Hall, the Gryffindors erupted into the loudest cheer of the night.
"We have Potter! We have Potter!"
"The Savior belongs to Gryffindor—!"
Amidst their cheers, Harry walked over with slightly trembling legs, receiving a welcome so enthusiastic it made him dizzy.
By this point, three of the four friends Soren Reed had made on the train had gone to Gryffindor.
As for himself, because his surname started with "R," he was placed quite far back.
Soren Reed and the Magic Library: Chapter 40 The Sorting Hat: The sorting result is—Slytherin—the heir!
After waiting for a very long time, Ron was finally sorted into Gryffindor, and there were only two first-years left waiting to be sorted—Soren Reed and another boy named Zabini.
Because the other candidate's surname started with "Z," Soren Reed missed the honor of being the final one to appear.
"Soren Reed!" Professor McGonagall finally called his name.
Soren Reed walked forward quickly, his gaze inadvertently meeting Snape's, who was looking over. He quickly stopped and bowed slightly to his guide.
Snape responded with a minimal nod, then urged him with his eyes not to dawdle.
Soren Reed felt the same way; he took the three-legged stool in two steps, picked up the Sorting Hat, turned around, and sat down.
Directly in front of him, students at the four long tables cast curious gazes. Especially among the girls; perhaps this was the power of good looks.
Immediately, he placed the slightly oversized Sorting Haton his head. The loose brim covered the upper half of his face, making it impossible to even see his eyes.
The moment he put on the hat, silent darkness enveloped everything, isolating him from the noise outside. In the darkness, Soren Reed composed himself and waited patiently.
Inhale—Exhale— Inhale—Exhale— He took a few deep breaths, his nervousness completely subsided, and he prepared for the conversation.
However, the Sorting Hat remained quiet, as if it didn't exist.
Soren Reed waited and waited, feeling like half a minute had passed, and couldn't help but complain in his mind: "Say something, Sorting Hat, if you don't speak, I will report you for cold-shouldering me!"
At this, the Sorting Hat finally responded.
"Ah... ah... hmm... oh, welcome, welcome, little one. Forgive me, I was just a bit surprised... very surprised, incredible..."
Listening to its incoherent whispers, Soren Reed asked blankly: "What happened? Aren't you supposed to help me with the sorting?"
"Yes... yes, of course, that is my job."
"So—should we talk?" Soren Reed had some ulterior motives in his heart, intending to try one last time.
"Talk? Of course, we really should talk properly." The Sorting Hat responded in a faint voice, "I can tell you are the kind of strong-willed little one who likes to lead the conversation, just like... ahem, never mind, that's not important. Let's talk, go ahead."
Soren Reed could sense its strange emotion, but having the initiative was always a good thing: "Mr. Sorting Hat, do you think... I am suitable for Gryffindor?"
"You want to go to Gryffindor!?" The Sorting Hat's voice suddenly rose, then quickly dropped back to a normal volume,
"Oh, oh, of course, thanks to the exemplary effect of Dumbledore, many first-years are eager to go to Gryffindor. As for you... you do possess the qualities required by Gryffindor—brave, bold, and daring to face difficulties and challenges. But I must say, it is not the most suitable place for you...
And, forgive my frankness, although my creators did not allow me the dangerous ability to fully pry into others' hearts and secrets, I can still perceive that you, out of some apprehension, are somewhat resistant to Gryffindor, aren't you?"
Soren Reed was silent. He had to admit that the Sorting Hat was very accurate.
"Then... how about I go to Ravenclaw?"
"Hmm—Ravenclaw believes that the smartest minds are always the most successful. Little one, I can see that you are the type of precocious, smart person; your little head contains far more knowledge than other children, and I can imagine your report card full of 'O's."
"Yes, you meet Ravenclaw's selection criteria, but, ah... why do I always say 'but'... but, Ravenclaw is definitely not the most suitable for you, I dare assert."
Denied twice in a row, Soren Reed was already numb; after all, he couldn't go to Hufflepuff, could he?
The Sorting Hat heard his inner thoughts and chuckled as it sang: "Hufflepuff feels that the most diligent and hardworking are the most qualified to enter the house. By this standard, you are definitely the most qualified person I have seen in these hundreds of years to enter Hufflepuff."
"If Hufflepuff House saw how you forgot to eat and sleep, she would surely feel sorry for you and go to the kitchen to get you something to eat. But, you know, that is not the most suitable place for you."
There are only four houses in Hogwarts, and three of them are not "the most suitable for him," so where exactly is suitable for him? It's really hard to guess...
Soren Reed sighed speechlessly: "...Slytherin?"
"Yes! Yes! Slytherin!!" The Sorting Hat became excited: "You are a natural Slytherin, child. You may not know, when I touched your consciousness—your infinite, burning ambition—it almost burned me!"
Chapter 27
"It was like stepping into a volcanic crater, falling into a lake of lava, and taking a dragon-fire bath that reduced my bones to ash!"
"I knew right then that you had to go to Slytherin House, you could only go to Slytherin House, because you and he are so much alike!"
"...Who?" Soren Reed raised an eyebrow.
"Salazar Slytherin—! The strictest, and perhaps the most difficult to get along with, of my four creators!"
Why is it him again...
Hearing that name again, Soren Reed fell into a long silence.
*
In fact, he was not the only one who had fallen silent.
In the Great Hall, students from the four houses were whispering to one another, the volume of their discussion gradually rising.
The professors, who should have been keeping them in check, were troubled by the same question, exchanging confused glances with one another.
Ten minutes already...
It had been a full ten minutes since that new student put on the hat...
The Sorting Hat, which usually liked to make funny faces and interact actively with the teachers and students while sorting, had suddenly opened its mouth wide the moment it was placed on his head, as if it had seen something incredible.
Afterward, it went completely still, as if it had died, without the slightest movement.
If it weren't for the fact that the new student was still breathing and occasionally showed slight expressions on the face exposed, they would have really thought something had gone wrong.
No... strictly speaking, this already looked a lot like an accident. The Sorting Hat had taken ten minutes and still couldn't sort him?
Snape recalled the scenes from when he first met Soren Reed. He had felt that the boy was special back then, but he hadn't expected to be so accurate—special enough to stump the Sorting Hat.
Just then, he felt a strong gaze land on him.
Turning his head, he saw Dumbledore silently watching him; in those blue eyes, where true emotions could not be discerned, was a look of inquiry.
About a week ago, Snape, following his request, had taken precious time to conduct a follow-up visit to the Orphanage where Soren Reed resided.
In accordance with the principle of acting discreetly, he had only visited the Headmistress and a few staff members of the Orphanage, obtaining subsequent information about Soren Reed from them.
That restless little fellow had indeed disregarded his warning, practicing spells in private and telling his best friend about the existence of magic.
This did indeed violate the rules. But how to put it... he was still an eleven-year-old child; having just learned of the existence of magic and being able to attend a magic school, it was entirely understandable that he couldn't control his curiosity and desire to show off.
He had only told his best friend, who happened to be a pretty little girl, which was already considered very restrained.
In view of this, Snape had concluded from the follow-up visit that there were no major issues with Soren Reed.
Now, he still thought the same, so he nodded to Dumbledore, indicating his opinion.
Dumbledore withdrew his gaze, seemingly believing his judgment.
In the brilliantly lit Great Hall, the eerie atmosphere continued to spread.
*
After a moment of distraction, Soren Reed remembered that he was in the middle of being sorted, and forcibly pulled his wandering thoughts back.
"So you want to sort me into Slytherin House, is that what you mean?"
The Sorting Hat huffed twice and retorted in a low voice: "Don't make it sound like I'm forcing you; I am a thinking magic hat, after all. I saw it long ago; you actually know you will go to Slytherin House. After all, that endless Fire of Ambition was first ignited by yourself—"
"But I am most likely not pure-blood, perhaps not even half-blood, but Muggle-born."
"That is indeed a problem, but I can tell you that even after deducting for that, you are still a perfect score!"
"..." Soren Reed was speechless.
"Hehehe~ Nothing to say now, right? You asked me so many questions, so let me ask you one—Ambitious little fellow, what is the deepest desire in your heart?"
"Desire, huh..." Soren Reed thought for a long time, feeling it wasn't anything shameful, so he told it, "Looking at the long term, I want to conquer the world, and I also want to be loved..."
He paused for a moment and added, "I also want to be well-read, I want to be invincible, I want to be immortal, I want eternal youth, I want to know everything, I want harmony in my harem, I want to be indefatigable, and I want—"
"Stop thinking, stop thinking!" The Sorting Hat hurriedly interrupted him. "You see, those outward appearances of yours—brave, love to learn, thirst for knowledge, tireless—all of this serves your ambition! Your ambition, which is about to burn, is your truest nature!"
"I dare not imagine how happy Salazar would be if he saw you himself. You are the kind of student he wanted most, the heir he most desired. As his creation, how could I go against the will of my creator and sort his most favored student into another house—"
"Get ready, little fellow, I am going to fulfill my duty—"
Soren Reed didn't know what he should prepare for, perhaps to manage his expressions and get ready to enjoy the twisted faces of his "pure-blood classmates"?
However, he was wrong. What the Sorting Hat meant was—get ready to cover your ears!
Under the gaze of all the teachers, students, and ghosts, the Sorting Hat, which had been dead for quite a while, finally came alive again. It twisted its body, raised its mouth high, and tilted it toward the starlit magical dome.
In the next instant, a shout like a thunderclap burst from its mouth:
"Sly—" "ther—" "in—"
The rolling sound waves whistled out. It shook the thousands of candle flames into a wild dance, sent the unprepared students tumbling, and made the entire Hogwarts Castle tremble slightly.
No one knew what was wrong with the Sorting Hat, or what kind of madness it had succumbed to.
The students only felt that if the founder of Slytherin House were still alive, he would have to come out to see what the hell was going on!
At first, the oldest ghosts and magical creations seemed to perceive something, but they couldn't hear it clearly.
Then, all the headmasters in the Headmaster's office who had come from Slytherin House seemed to have sensed something, but they couldn't distinguish it clearly.
Later, this shout spread throughout the entire castle and finally reached the Chamber of Secrets deep underground.
The huge stone statue standing quietly at the end of the Chamber of Secrets slowly opened its eyes, which had been silent for a thousand years.
[Ah... he heard it.] [The Sorting Hat is calling out to him, begging him to listen.] [It is saying—] [Open your eyes, great Salazar, I have found the best heir for you—]
Soren Reed and the Magic Library: Chapter 41 The Aftermath of the Sorting
A thousand years—the Sorting Hat had finally responded to his expectations.
As one of the most special magical items in Hogwarts, it would activate the secret arrangements left by the four founders under specific conditions.
The most famous of these is the [sword of gryffindor].
That is the generous gift of Godric Gryffindor—when in danger or in need, those who truly possess the unique qualities of "Gryffindor" can pull this sword from the Sorting Hat.
Following the example of that college founder who walked out of the barren swamp—wield it to defeat powerful enemies!
Similarly, the founders of the other three houses, when jointly injecting thought and wisdom into this magic hat, could also leave behind their own arrangements.
Specifically for Salazar, it required the Sorting Hat to pass on this message when it found a new student who "met his wishes."
Of course, this is a secret known only to very few, and the means of analysis are mastered only by himself.
Then let him take a look—
[Soren Reed, male, first-year student, Muggle-born, Ambitious, brave and fearless, talented, diligent, hardworking...]
Ignoring the string of praises, what really concerned him was the information at the beginning.
Muggle-born?
He certainly knew how harsh the standards he had set initially were without the addition of his own bloodline. And this child was not even pure-blood...
However, the Sorting Hat had determined—this new student was the best heir he had been waiting for for a thousand years.
This is like a test paper with a perfect score of one hundred, where thirty points are deducted right away, but someone can still score ninety-five, triggering a hidden mechanism.
This was an evaluation that even that short-sighted and stupid blood descendant from fifty years ago hadn't received.
It seems this must be a quite special new student.
[Soren Reed, interesting—]
The ancient soul accepted the recommendation of the Sorting Hat.
But he was also equally clear that, according to normal procedures, this new student would still need a few years of study and growth before being qualified to be guided to the Chamber of Secrets to accept his inheritance trial.
Before that, one still needs to wait patiently.
In the cold and dark Chamber of Secrets, the half-open eyes of the huge stone statue closed again, waiting for the moment when that heir would arrive.
Inside the stone statue, the true location of the Chamber of Secrets.
The Basilisk, which had been in a long-term state of hibernation, was also awakened by the movement of the stone statue. It raised its head in ecstasy, only to see that the exit to the outside world had not opened.
A deep disappointment revealed itself in its yellow vertical pupils, which terrified countless people, and then it lay back down.
Go back to sleep... if you are asleep, you won't feel hungry, and you can still savor the taste of real food in your dreams.
The last time it ate was... last time...
Really want to eat something, even if it's a mouse...
The Basilisk, possessing super long standby capability, entered a state of hibernation once again.
A disturbance thus came to an end. —Of course, that's impossible!
It may have quieted down in the Chamber of Secrets, but the Great Hall exploded!
The shout from the Sorting Hat successfully helped Soren Reed become famous overnight on his first day of school.
He took off the hat and rubbed his ears hard, trying to alleviate the buzzing in his head.
Looking around, all the students in the Great Hall were staring at him, and many were pointing fingers, obviously asking—who is this new student, and why does the Sorting Hat regard him so differently?
You have to know that in a normal state, the Sorting Hattreats all students equally.
Only in very rare special cases like Harry, Neville, and Malfoy would it show some personal emotions when shouting out the sorting results.
But compared to the situation of Soren Reed, those all seemed too normal.
A full fifteen minutes! The Sorting Hat only then made a judgment, and it even used a method comparable to shouting, as if announcing this major decision to everyone.
Even seventh-year students had never seen such a bizarre situation.
Perhaps the Headmaster and professors knew more information?
On this point, Soren Reed's thoughts were highly consistent with those of other students, and he turned to look at the teacher's bench.
It would have been better not to look, but upon looking, he discovered that all the staff members were also staring at him, mostly with expressions of scrutiny and confusion in their eyes.
Except for... Dumbledore.
This number one person in the current Wizarding World, when his gaze met with Soren Reed's, nodded gently at him, fully embodying the posture of a kind elder.
Chapter 28
Soren Reed only wanted to sigh in his heart, though he returned the gesture with a seemingly calm expression.
He knew that after the Sorting Hat pulled such a stunt, even if he stayed away from Harry Potter, he couldn't escape the fate of being added to the special watch list; it was truly an unfavorable start.
However—he did not regret it. He remembered the Sorting Hat's words clearly: he was the kind of student Salazar Slytherin wanted most, the heir he craved the most.
The significance of this identity was extraordinary, and he was willing to bear the cost for it.
Without time to think further, he placed the Sorting Hatback on the chair, turned, and walked toward the table on the far right.
After taking two steps, he suddenly remembered something and turned to look at the Gryffindor table.
His four new friends were all watching him from afar, and there was even an empty seat between Hermione and Neville, clearly saved for him.
It was a pity, though, that he had to go to the Slytherinside...
Watching Soren Reed pause for a moment before continuing on his way, Hermione's heart tightened, filled with an indescribable discomfort.
The words Neville had spoken not long ago still echoed in her ears, yet Soren Reed, who in no way seemed like a Slytherin, had ended up in the house with the worst reputation—and he was Muggle-born!
Could the Sorting Hat have made a mistake!?
Hermione felt restless, but she dared not actually stand up to question the Sorting Hat's decision. She could only suppress her worries, intending to find Soren Reed for a detailed talk after today.
She had originally... no, just a few hours ago, she had promised to lend her extracurricular books to Soren Reed, and she had to keep her word...
On the other side, Malfoy's slightly parted mouth finally closed, a look of uncertainty flashing in his eyes.
But soon, this doubt turned into pure malice.
He had just been thinking about how to teach those barbarians who dared to offend him a lesson after school started, and to his surprise, the one he hated the most had actually been sorted into Slytherin.
He was clearly just a Mudblood from the Muggle World!
No... considering the Sorting Hat never made mistakes, perhaps he was a half-blood lost in the Muggle World?
Whatever, it didn't matter.
What mattered was that the opportunity for revenge had arrived!
Malfoy stood up quietly, tapped Crabbe and Goyle next to him, and brought them to swap seats with the three freshmen on the far side.
This way, Soren Reed would have no choice but to sit next to him.
When the time came, he would see how he could expose the other's "mystery of origin" and make him the laughingstock of the house on the very first day of school!
The male and female Prefects of Slytherin noticed the small movements of Malfoy and his group, but based on that glorious surname alone, as long as they didn't go too far or damage the house's collective honor, they didn't intend to intervene.
As for that somewhat special freshman...
Let's wait and see. Currently, other than the Sorting Hat's special attitude toward him, there didn't seem to be anything remarkable about him.
Soren Reed and the Magic Library: Chapter 42 - Malfoy: Yay! The chance for revenge has arrived!
When Soren Reed approached the Slytherin table with a steady pace, this group of "pure-blood students," who prided themselves on their status, only offered sparse applause under the lead of the Prefect.
Soren Reed politely greeted the older students and, under their curious gazes, walked toward the end of the table—the area specifically reserved for freshmen.
Then, he saw Malfoy with a malicious look on his face.
This brat was clearly up to no good...
Soren Reed did not choose to avoid him; he sat down beside him naturally and said casually, "We meet again, fellow student Malfoy."
"Yes—we meet again." Malfoy drawled, his voice rising with excitement, "I really didn't expect that you, coming from the Muggle World, would actually be sorted into Slytherin. Tsk, tsk, tsk, it really makes me have to wonder if the Sorting Hat has gone senile."
He not only didn't lower his voice but deliberately raised it so that the circle of students nearby could hear him.
Presumably, without having to wait until tomorrow, Soren Reed's "true background" would spread throughout the entire house.
Yes, Malfoy knew that Soren Reed might be a half-blood, but he deliberately ignored this possibility, wanting to nail the other to the pillar of shame that was being Muggle-born!
Looking at Malfoy, whose malice was practically overflowing from his eyes, Soren Reed only found him childish.
Honestly speaking, he really didn't want to bicker with a brat who had just started middle school; it would be beneath his dignity.
But he was also clear that school bullying often started with tolerance and concession; the more the bullied party avoided, the more the aggressor would push their luck.
He was certain that if he didn't strike back hard today, Malfoy would dare to walk all over him tomorrow.
So what was there to hesitate about—
"I was actually quite surprised myself. After the Sorting Hat knew I was Muggle-born and explicitly told me this was a negative factor, it still chose to sort me here. It even said that I was the true 'Slytherin.' I think being Muggle-born might indeed be my biggest flaw—"
Malfoy's mouth curled up wildly, thinking he was about to cave in. However, even if he did, Malfoy didn't intend to let him off!
"And you, fellow student Malfoy—" Soren Reed changed the subject, "your pure-blood lineage might already be your greatest merit."
Malfoy instinctively wanted to nod, but realized what was happening at the critical moment.
What kind of talk was that!? To dare to belittle his noble lineage!
"You guy—do you know what the surname 'Malfoy' actually represents!"
As the heir to the Malfoy family, he even stated his surname first when introducing himself and liked to have others address him by his surname, which showed how much he cared about it.
"I don't know, and I don't care." Soren Reed was extremely cold, "I judge people based on their character, conduct, and talent. As for the English letters that spell their names, I don't care."
"You—!"
In a fit of rage, Malfoy instantly threw out another more vicious remark, "You say you value these things, then why were your companions in the same carriage all sorted into Gryffindor, while you alone were sorted here? Doesn't this just prove—that there is something wrong with your character and conduct!"
Soren Reed raised an eyebrow, feeling that this statement actually made some sense. But he also knew that this was all the fault of [Ambitious]; rather than saying there was a problem, it was more of a cognitive bias.
Of course, even so, he could not agree with Malfoy's words.
"I have heard that among the four founders, Slytherin and Gryffindor were once close friends, and only later, due to some unrecorded conflicts, did they part ways."
"But even so, it is enough to prove that there is no fundamental contradiction between the two houses. After all, we are all studying at the same school; we are fellow students, not enemies."
Several older students nearby had varied expressions, and there were quite a few who supported this view, nodding slightly.
Soren Reed continued, "And therefore, I believe that even if we are sorted into different houses, it will not affect the friendship between us. Unlike you, Malfoy—"
He didn't even bother to add the word 'fellow student.'
"You ran to the carriage where Harry Potter was, wanted to make friends with him, and even reached out your hand, but what was the result?"
Malfoy's expression changed, but he couldn't stop his words.
"The result was that he coldly rejected you. If you ask me, next time if you really want to make friends with others, you had better change that annoying look on your face and learn to speak with some manners."
Under the barrage of sharp linguistic attacks, Malfoy's pale face flushed red again, and he looked like he was about to explode.
But just at this moment, Professor McGonagall finished checking the Sorting Hat, confirmed there were no problems, and called out the name of the last freshman.
"Blaise Zabini!"
The sorting ceremony continued—
The patrolling Prefects and ghosts joined forces to apply pressure, stopping the students from chatting.
Constrained by this, Malfoy couldn't vent his anger and could only glare at Soren Reed with a ferocious look.
—The damage caused to the latter remained constant at zero.
Soon, the last freshman was sorted into Slytherin. He seemed to be a member of a pure-blood family as well and received a warmer welcome from the older students.
As he approached this side, he even greeted Malfoy, his attitude quite familiar.
Immediately after, he sat on the other side of Soren Reed, looking straight ahead, not even bothering to say a polite word.
Soren Reed could now confirm that this guy was definitely pure-blood—that suffocating air of arrogance was practically a standard feature for pure-blood students.
After the last freshman was seated, this sorting ceremony, which had been full of incidents tonight, finally drew to a close.
Dumbledore stood up, smiling broadly as he opened his arms to all the students, and at the end of his welcoming speech, he said that classic line: "Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!"
There were several ways to interpret this line in the parallel world, and Soren Reed wasn't sure which was more correct, but he was certain that in the eyes of most freshmen, Dumbledore was definitely a zany and very interesting, kind headmaster.
Perhaps this was his purpose in deliberately acting weird.
Hmm, perhaps...
After the surprisingly short headmaster's speech, Dumbledore sat back down, and warm applause followed in the Great Hall.
Soren Reed also gave him face by clapping along, but his movements became slower and slower until, at a certain moment, they stopped abruptly.
All of this was because—
The long table, which had been empty, was instantly filled with an extremely sumptuous feast: roast beef, roast chicken, pork chops, lamb chops—all delicacies rarely seen at the Orphanage's dining table, which in the past could only be tasted in small amounts during big holidays like Christmas.
And now, they were laid out before him in a buffet style.
At this moment, nothing like Malfoy, pure-blood families, or the heir of Slytherin was as important as eating!
Soren Reed held his knife and fork, giving it his all, with only one thought in his mind—how could he eat more than a pig while maintaining elegance?
At first, Malfoy still looked at him with a mocking gaze, dining slowly and methodically to show aristocratic demeanor.
But after Soren Reed swept away all the delicious food within his reach, even Young Master Malfoy couldn't help but break down—
Soren Reed and the Magic Library: Chapter 43 - The Blocking Ghost
"Does your family not feed you?"
"Or is it that there isn't even meat on the table in a Muggle household?"
"Could it be..."
Malfoy chattered on endlessly, trying to attack Soren Reedwith his sharp tongue.
But Soren Reed just treated it like a dog barking, not even bothering to glance at him.
Oh, that wasn't quite right; he did take a look—to see what was on Malfoy's plate, and then prioritize eating that food!
With his belly wide open for a wild feast, Soren Reed ate to his heart's content.
He was surprised to discover that when the ingredients, recipes, and culinary skills were up to standard, even British food could be so delicious.
And such a grand meal was served three times a day at Hogwarts—and it was free!
This place was simply heaven; his malnutrition had a solution!
Beside him, Malfoy, who had been fuming and eating air the whole time, appeared exceptionally manic, clutching his fork tightly, looking as if he wished he could just stab him.
But in the end, he didn't dare to make a move, missing the main course in a daze, and could only fill his stomach with dessert.
He began to have a hallucination; he felt he had been bullied by Soren Reed!
Another ten minutes or so passed, and the opening feast officially ended.
Dumbledore stood up once again to read the notices to the students.
Including but not limited to—no entering the Forbidden Forest, no casting spells in the corridors between classes, Quidditch player tryouts, and do not enter the corridor on the right on the fourth floor.
Soren Reed listened with his left ear and let it out through his right, not adding any burden to his brain cells.
School rules and such, aren't they just meant to be broken!
After finishing the notices, there was only one last activity left—singing the school song.
Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hogwarts, please teach us knowledge, whether we are bald old men, or...
Soren Reed had dreamt of this interesting school song in his dreams, but it was a pity that it didn't seem to be a prophetic dream, and Hermione hadn't sung it to him in the carriage...
Now, he had annoying brats on both his left and right, spoiling his mood for no reason.
After singing the school song with a perfunctory attitude, it was time for bed.
On the Slytherin side, the older students could move freely, while the first-year freshmen were taken charge of by the male and female Prefects.
Because the Great Hall was too noisy, the two Prefects simply took a headcount and led the freshmen away first.