However, first-years could not apply for a Time-Turner, so he could only do everything he could for now and then look for new solutions.
After the two discussed it, they officially became Librarybuddies, determined to compete in the realm of academics!
Later, they wandered around the school, and when it hit twelve noon, they went to the Great Hall for lunch right on time.
This time, Soren Reed was still sitting at the Gryffindortable, proving to those who were wary of him that he was not like Lord Voldemort—
He was a model student with a family, friends, and a lover!
Please, stop looking at him with prejudice; everything was just a coincidence!
And so, the strange sight of a Slytherin running over to the Gryffindor table was recreated once again.
The difference was that the number of students coming to eat at noon was far denser than in the morning, as everyone rushed to the Great Hall after class, which was around this time.
Many older students successfully caught up on this magical experience, watching Soren Reed intently.
The Slytherin table was particularly exaggerated, with many older students very surprised at how that first-year had run into the enemy camp.
The first-years led by Malfoy naturally would not speak well of Soren Reed, letting the seniors gossip.
Just then, the gloomy-faced Snape glided into the room, passing through the Slytherin table like a large bat.
The Potions professor was in a very bad mood today.
This was because the morning of the first day of school was the first Potion Class for the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff first-years.
It was truly a nightmarish experience; he really, really, really wanted to kick those stupid fools out of the classroom, or hang them upside down from the ceiling, keeping them away from cauldrons and flasks forever, lest they kill themselves or others.
But Dumbledore would not allow it, because—every child should have equal access to education—what a beautiful piece of nonsense; why didn't he go teach Potion Class to those Trolls with brains smaller than walnuts!?
That bunch of idiots, fools, morons—
Fury churned in his heart, turning into a heavy low-pressure system that surrounded him.
Usually, even Slytherin students would not go up to him at such a time to ask for trouble.
But today, a group of first-years who were unfamiliar with their Head of House's temperament had arrived, and some of the quick-witted ones were preparing to curry favor with Malfoy by suppressing Soren Reed, hoping to get into that noble little circle.
Blaise was just such a clever little guy.
As Snape passed by, he suddenly stood up, greeted him quickly, and then impatiently pointed toward another direction in the Great Hall, starting to snitch.
Snape looked in the direction he was pointing, and at a glance, he saw that conspicuous "green dot amidst a sea of flowers."
A Slytherin... ran to the Gryffindor table!?
Almost instantly, his eyes narrowed dangerously, and a look of displeasure appeared on his face.
Traitors were always more detestable than enemies, and as a double agent himself, he understood this principle all too well.
After seeing the appearance of that little traitor, the strange feeling in Snape's heart became even stronger.
Why was it him?
Soren Reed...
The key person of interest repeatedly emphasized by Dumbledore, and also the problem child on his own watchlist, second only to Harry Potter.
Not only did he run over to the Gryffindor side, but it seemed he was also... hmm... was he picking food for the Gryffindor girl beside him?
If he remembered correctly, didn't he have a childhood sweetheart? And this was only the first day of school; this efficiency...
Snape was rarely speechless, but as he watched, he suddenly hallucinated a scene—
That was when he was a child, in the Muggle town of Cokeworth; he had a very close childhood friend. Their homes were very close, and they had run wild together in the streets and alleys, gotten into trouble together, and shared snacks together; that was...
Don't think, don't think, don't think!
His reason was frantically sounding the alarm!
That was...
Don't think, don't think, don't—
It was Lily.
Like a flood breaking a dam, his reason vanished completely.
Perhaps because her child started school this year, Snapehad dreamed of her often this vacation, dreaming of their past...
If it weren't for the damnable James Potter and his equally damnable companions, even if they were sorted into different houses, they should have... definitely could have made it to the end.
At least they wouldn't have been separated by death...
Thinking of his one true love, even someone as strong as Snape could not help but be dazed.
Blaise mistook this long gaze for anger at the traitor, chattering away to the Head of House, saying that Soren Reed was unsociable and would rather be with another Gryffindor girl of lowly blood than return to Slytherin, bringing shame to the House.
His noise successfully woke Snape up, and his derogatory remarks also brought up some of Snape's unpleasant past memories.
About being half-blood, about Gryffindor girls, about that insulting word...
If he hadn't said that hurtful thing to Lily back then, would their ending have been different...
That was the greatest regret and remorse of his life, which he feared he would never be able to let go of until death.
The romance between a Gryffindor girl and a Slytherin boy—the last time, it hadn't reached a happy ending.
What about this time?
He didn't know either...
He just suddenly felt so tired, not wanting to deal with it anymore...
Let it be...
"Mind your own business—"
Leaving behind a cold whisper, Snape floated away, the low-pressure system surrounding him becoming even colder, almost capable of frostbiting anyone who got near him.
Blaise stood there blankly, scared stiff by the look that mixed violence and resentment before he left.
He didn't understand why the Head of House would favor a traitor.
Soren Reed and the Magic Library: Chapter 52 The Competition Begins! But History of Magic...
At lunchtime, the Great Hall was lively and noisy.
The small conflict that happened at the Slytherin table naturally could not reach the Gryffindor table, which was far away.
Soren Reed was still eating leisurely, and he was surprised to find that his surroundings had become lively.
At first, it was Neville who rushed over to eat; he only hesitated for a moment before sitting on the other side of Soren Reed.
After a few simple exchanges, Soren Reed confirmed once again that he was really that kind of super honest and simple child, and had not distanced himself because of the sorting issue.
He also frankly expressed that he was very happy to be sorted into Gryffindor, but as for Soren Reed, he had to be very, very careful in Slytherin, as there were many bad kids there...
Soren Reed thanked him for his reminder with a glass of orange juice and shared a simple route map to each classroom with him.
Shortly after, Harry and Ron also came, and they were very surprised that Soren Reed was sitting at the Gryffindortable.
Ron, not knowing if he had believed the rumors or had other thoughts, seemed somewhat resistant to coming over to sit together. It was only after Harry pushed him quietly from behind that he shuffled over.
Harry himself was friendlier than Ron, and after sitting down, he took the initiative to talk about how the Sorting Hat had almost sorted him into Slytherin, and told Soren Reed—that if he had strongly objected at the time, the Sorting Hat might have changed its mind.
Soren Reed knew this was absolutely impossible, but he still pretended to look a bit regretful.
Just like that, the five who met on the Hogwarts Expressgathered together again, chatting about interesting school news while eating.
After that, there was Percy, who intended to stir up trouble.
The good news was that he was entangled by the Weasley Twins halfway there, so he had no time to worry about Soren Reed.
The other Gryffindor female Prefect, who had the obligation and authority to manage this matter, showed a classic auntie smile at the combination of Soren Reed and Hermione, busy chatting about gossip and ignoring Percy's plea for help.
Soren Reed looked around and suddenly discovered—
Snape didn't care about him, Professor McGonagall didn't care either, and the two Gryffindor Prefects had inconsistent attitudes; looking at it this way—he was invincible!
As long as he maintained this momentum, he could hang out at the Gryffindor table for a long time, avoiding trouble while also proving to someone that he was not like Lord Voldemort.
The only small problem was that Harry also came over...
As soon as he came over, someone's attention would follow.
Sure enough, halfway through lunch, the silver-haired Dumbledore came to the Great Hall to dine and enjoy the time with the students.
After sitting down, Dumbledore's gaze aimed straight at the Gryffindor table, searching for the figure of the Boy Who Lived.
Then he saw Harry as he wished, and... Soren Reed, with only Neville between them.
—A Slytherin first-year who had run to the Gryffindortable.
Subconsciously, his gaze turned to Snape, wanting to know what was going on.
However, Snape, who could always detect his gaze in time and report to him, seemed to be in a bad mood today, simply ignoring him and eating with his head down.
Even more exaggerated—there was actually a glass of wine by his hand!
Although it didn't look like he had drunk much...
But that was Severus Snape; due to his family influence, he rarely, or almost never, drank. In the past, if you invited him to toast on a holiday, he would give you a sour face.
What was wrong with him today?
Dumbledore was a bit puzzled, but it was not appropriate to ask directly on such an occasion.
Restraining his own emotions, he straightened his body and still raised his glass to the little warrior who dared to break the rules, praising his courage—and incidentally showing his kindness and tolerance.
Noticing this, Soren Reed hurriedly returned the gesture to the old bee—incidentally showing off his good-kid persona.
This was perhaps the essence of "life is a play, and it all depends on acting."
After showing his face in front of the Headmaster and not being sent back, Soren Reed had gained a layer of invisible privilege, and Percy hesitated and stopped bothering him.
After lunch, both houses had afternoon classes.
Soren Reed could only bid a reluctant farewell to his friends and return to his unfaithful Slytherin Common Room.
Blaise, who had just been snubbed by Snape, jumped out impatiently once again, taking the lead in accusing Soren Reed of being a traitor who "yearned for" the House's mortal enemy.
Soren Reed couldn't even be bothered to pay attention to him, looking directly at Malfoy.
Malfoy, the young master who valued aristocratic demeanor, did not join in this verbal attack, but just because he was the leader of this group of boys, it wasn't hard to see who was the real mastermind behind the scenes.
Soren Reed really despised these brats; sometimes he really wanted to beat them up to correct their bad behavior.
But he himself had to maintain his persona as a good student; doing too much would easily arouse Dumbledore's suspicion.
The house point system also didn't allow him to act rashly; he was still waiting to live in that single room...
Never mind, for now, it was better to teach them a lesson with gentler means.
When the competition started and the score gap widened, there would be plenty of opportunities to make Malfoyscream and scratch.
And the nearest opportunity—was today!
At 13:30 in the afternoon, Soren Reed arrived at the History of Magic classroom early to grab the best seat.
His right fist was already hungry and impatient, unable to wait to unleash a "deliberate punch" on Malfoy!
At two in the afternoon, in the first History of Magic class shared by Slytherin House and Ravenclaw, this punch landed accurately and viciously on—
Cotton...
It wasn't that Malfoy was so great; the surprise came from the History of Magic professor himself.
This old professor, who continued to teach History of Magic in ghost form, had emotions as stable as his pulse.
Passing through walls, not taking attendance, reading from the textbook in a monotonous and boring tone, with no interactivity in his teaching—this was Professor Binns' teaching style.
It was no exaggeration to say that listening to his class required a Will check every five minutes.
Students who failed fell asleep immediately, and those who luckily survived were also groggy, just like being in a sauna with scarce oxygen.
Soren Reed himself was fine; his ambition exchanged for unlimited willpower, allowing him to flip through the "Modern History of Magic" that Hermione gave him while focusing on the class, searching for clues about that fifth-year transfer student.
Taking advantage of the moment Professor Binns took a tactical drink of water (even though he didn't need to drink water at all), Soren Reed looked around the History of Magic classroom.
Not far behind him, Malfoy was barely keeping awake, but his head was nodding, and all his willpower was being used to fight off sleepiness.
His two bodyguards were even worse, already lying on the table drooling, having been gone for a while.
Most of the other students who were still awake weren't listening to the lecture either; some were passing notes with the back row, some were giggling while reading extracurricular books, and some were fiercely chewing on quill pens... or rather, quill-shaped candies.
Chapter 35
Everyone had put in every effort except for actually listening to the lecture.
By comparison, Soren, the only one still willing to raise his hand to answer questions, was practically a model student!
But even so, Professor Binns did not give him any extra points, as if he didn't realize that good students should be rewarded.
Furthermore, he couldn't remember Soren's surname.
It was one thing to get it wrong the first time, but the second time he even called him "Mr. Riddle."
Soren was so startled that he had a stress response on the spot, quickly reiterating his correct surname and imploring the professor not to call him that again.
If Dumbledore heard that, there would be trouble...
What surprised him even more was that Professor Binnsshould have taught Lord Voldemort, yet he had no reaction to his surname.
Combined with the professor's teaching style of ignoring classroom discipline entirely, Soren had reason to suspect that before Professor Binns became a ghost, he was likely just too old and suffered from some degree of dementia.
After finally making it to the short break, the death-seeking Blaise made a comeback.
To please Malfoy, he was really trying hard—he hadn't even slept during History of Magic!
Because of this, he noticed a small detail: Soren was very sensitive about his surname, which might be a new angle to attack him!
Soren Reed and the Magic Library: Chapter 53 - On How to Elegantly Roast Someone Without Using Profanity
"Soren Reed, Reed—"
Blaise repeated Soren's surname in an unpleasant tone, "Reed... that means reed, right? It implies weakness and fragility!"
He sounded malicious as soon as he spoke, drawing the sidelong glances of many Slytherins and Ravenclaws.
Malfoy was no longer sleepy either, watching this conflict with great interest.
This was exactly Blaise's goal; he hurriedly added, "No wonder I've never heard of any pure-blood family using this surname. If you ask me, you might as well listen to Professor Binns and change it to Riddle. 'Riddle' might not be great, but it's still better than 'Reed,' right?"
Soren's mouth twitched, and he looked at him with an "admiring" gaze, genuinely impressed by his courage.
Daring to joke about the name Riddle—is this what they call the fearlessness of the ignorant?
It's just as well Lord Voldemort hasn't won his resurrection match yet, otherwise, he would have been rewarded with an Avada Kedavra regardless.
"Why aren't you saying anything? Aren't you usually so eloquent?"
Some idiots are just like that; they mistake others' silence for weakness and then dance wildly in a minefield.
Soren, of course, could not allow such rumors damaging his reputation to spread. He responded coldly and firmly: "Blaise, I don't know if you've heard this saying: Don't mistake ignorance for personality; it only highlights your stupidity."
"You—" Blaise's expression stiffened, and he prepared to counterattack.
But Soren didn't give him the chance, continuing: "Since you're so interested in my name, I'll reluctantly educate you so you don't make a fool of yourself every time you open your mouth. Listen well—"
"Soren has the connotation of 'wise man' in Nordic etymology."
"And Reed, literally translated, is indeed a reed—a plant that seems weak but is actually tenacious, able to bend in a storm without breaking."
"Combined, it means a wise person who grows in adversity, knows how to assess the situation, and remains resilient."
"If you want to know more, I can tell you another famous quote: 'Man is a thinking reed'—by the French philosopher and mathematician Blaise Pascal."
"Although, given your IQ, you probably can't understand the philosophy this thinker wanted to express."
When it comes to how to elegantly roast someone without using profanity, the simplest method is to question the other person's IQ.
Compared to Blaise's disparaging remarks and random biting, Soren's retort was undoubtedly more well-reasoned and graceful.
The Ravenclaws watching the Slytherin infighting immediately took Soren's side.
For a group of Ravenclaws who prided themselves on their intelligence, a knowledgeable and eloquent wise man was undoubtedly more attractive.
Not to mention, this wise man was also very good-looking himself!
Blaise opened his mouth to speak several times but found he couldn't even come up with a decent rebuttal.
In the end, under a barrage of scornful gazes, he made an excuse to go to the bathroom and fled in a panic.
Malfoy closed his eyes in disappointment. He was satisfied with Blaise's initiative and loyalty, but such an incompetent teammate was truly... sigh...
Five minutes later, the History of Magic class resumed.
The second half of the class was no different from before, except for a few more students who had been hit by the sleep-inducing spell.
After two lessons, no one had gained or lost any points. The only impression left on the students was boredom, along with Professor Binns' wheezing, droning, and unpleasant voice.
"Ring, ring—"
When the bell rang, Professor Binns closed his textbook in sync, completely different from teachers who liked to drag out the class.
He just glanced at the students casually, assigned homework, said "Class dismissed" indifferently, and turned to leave without waiting for them to say goodbye to the professor.
Soren, sitting in the first row, remembered that his house points were still at zero and thought of his questions about the transfer student. He boldly called out to him: "Professor Binns, please wait! I have some questions while self-studying the textbook, and I was wondering if you could help me answer them."
The old professor was already halfway through the wall, but upon hearing this, he backed out the way he came, looking at him with a calm, slightly dull gaze: "Oh, oh... Mr. Reed, right?"
Reed breathed a sigh of relief; it seemed the old professor's memory wasn't so bad that he would forget immediately.
"It's me, Professor Binns. You can just call me Reed. I have some confusion about the goblin rebellions. There are two events recorded in 'A History of Magic,' but I heard other students chatting about at least three major rebellions, including one that happened at the end of the 19th century involving Hogwarts..."
Professor Binns listened patiently until he finished, and without needing to think much, he gave an answer that showed his solid teaching foundation:
"No, you definitely heard wrong, or they are just talking nonsense. There have indeed been many goblin rebellions in history, but the only ones worth recording in history books are the ones in 1612 and 1752."
"There was definitely no goblin rebellion at the end of the 19th century, nor was there a goblin leader named Ranrok. You must know that Dumbledore enrolled in 1892; if such a thing had really happened, he would certainly be aware of it."
"But as far as I know—there wasn't."
"Big events did happen in that era, but it wasn't a goblin rebellion. We'll discuss it in detail when the textbook gets to that point."
"Um... okay, thank you for answering my questions, Professor Binns. I don't have any other questions for now."
Soren's conjecture was almost confirmed, and a well-behaved, appropriate smile appeared on his face.
Professor Binns nodded and floated away.
Just as Soren felt a bit regretful and silently ranked the importance of History of Magic at the very bottom, the old professor returned once more and said something that made him beam with joy.
"I almost forgot..." he said slowly, "Previewing the lesson in advance, one point. Actively answering questions, one point. Thinking seriously about the knowledge points, another point. Keep it up, Mr. Reed; a vigorous thirst for knowledge is a treasure in itself."
After speaking, he really left without looking back.
Soren finally felt relieved, and the smile on his face became genuine.
Who said Professor Binns wasn't good? Isn't he actually quite nice!
It seems that in the future, I must take the initiative and communicate more with the professors; that's the only way to easily earn house points!
Turning his head, he saw with satisfaction that Malfoy, who had been waiting on the side to see him make a fool of himself, had a face as dark as the bottom of a pot.
Malfoy was indeed very angry.
Three points...
Not a lot, but he himself was currently at zero. He had fallen behind on the first day of school...
Despicable guy!
Trying to get on the professor's good side after class—isn't that cheating!
After glaring fiercely at Soren a few times, Malfoy left with his two dazed bodyguards. He had to go back immediately to check the schedule; he absolutely had to catch up on the score tomorrow.
Soren was not interested in Malfoy, who was destined to fail miserably; he was still thinking about the invincible transfer student.
According to the intelligence he had gathered, 'HogwartsLegacy' was likely not canon history, but rather a story similar to a parallel world.
Otherwise, just the fact that the transfer student caused the population of the British Wizarding World to wither should have been written about extensively in history books.
This is fine, too. The transfer student is too bugged; if they really existed, they would be the most unstable time bomb, far more dangerous than Lord Voldemort.
It's just...
Without the transfer student, where should he go to come into contact with Ancient Magic?
After thinking it over, he really had to find a way to take a tour of the Restricted Section. If he still couldn't find any clues, he would have to rely on the legacy of Salazar Slytherin. After all, he was a top-tier wizard from a thousand years ago and should know about Ancient Magic.
With thoughts churning in his mind, Soren packed his personal items and excitedly started jogging.
If asked which area of Hogwarts Castle he was most interested in right now, it would undoubtedly be the Magic Library.
Knowledge is power; for wizards, this truth is especially true!
Soren Reed and the Magic Library: Chapter 54 - Discovering a Wonder—The Hogwarts Magic Library!
The Hogwarts Magic Library is located on the west side of the fifth floor of the castle.
Soren arrived early and waited for a moment before Hermione, who had been to Herbology Class, hurried over.
After meeting up, the two excitedly headed to the Librarytogether.
Seen from the outside, the entrance to the Library wasn't particularly grand, just a few sizes larger than an ordinary classroom door.
But when they actually walked to the door and looked inside, they discovered that it was an exaggeratedly large space. One could only imagine how advanced the Extension Charm must be to achieve such an effect.
Gazing into the distance—
Countless bookshelves resembled high walls, each wall packed with "bricks" of recorded knowledge, divided into several levels, together forming this boundless labyrinth of knowledge.
The human physique was so small in front of these high walls that a magic ladder was needed to retrieve books from the higher shelves.
The moment he saw this magnificent hall, Soren was deeply shocked and fell in love with it.
Knowledge!
Endless knowledge!
Available for the taking, and it's free—
If he could read all the books here, wouldn't he be invincible!
No wonder in some novels, librarians are either a protagonist-exclusive profession or a hidden boss.
Perhaps because it was the first day of school, the Librarywas deserted.
When the two little wizards stood at the entrance, gazing around in amazement, the librarian, Madam Pince, immediately noticed them.
A Slytherin boy and... a Gryffindor girl?
What a subtle combination.
What was even more coincidental was that after the Sorting Ceremony last night, which had nearly deafened her, she actually remembered the boy's name.
"Soren Reed?"
Hearing someone call him, Soren snapped back to reality and revealed a well-behaved, appropriate smile.
He was certain that Madam Pince would definitely be the school staff member he interacted with most frequently in the future, meeting her almost every day, so he had to establish a good relationship with her.
"It is I, Madam Pince. It is an honor that you still remember me."
Madam Pince looked at the few books he was holding in his arms and nodded gently: "It's nothing; the Sorting Hathowled so hard for you, it really should pay for the ear drops I had to buy..."
As a librarian, her work environment was very quiet, making her more sensitive and less tolerant of high-frequency noise.
After the joke, Madam Pince introduced herself to Hermione, and then said to both of them:
"Little ones, go ahead and walk inside. Don't be afraid; these books won't bite. In fact, I truly hope that this will be the place where you spend the most time outside of the classroom. Only then, when you graduate and leave school, will you be able to take away enough knowledge to fill your little heads."
Soren kept smiling: "I'm not afraid, Madam Pince. I'm just too surprised. I've never seen such a large Library, and they are all magic books. I think there might be tens of thousands of books in here!"
"Hehe~" Madam Pince chuckled and corrected him, "You should remove the 'might be,' little one. There are more than just tens of thousands of books here; there are hundreds of thousands! In all of Britain, you won't find a Library bigger or more complete than this one!"
It was evident that she was very proud of her workplace.
Soren also felt satisfied and hurriedly took steps to walk inside.
Generally speaking, when new students enter the Library, they must first understand the precautions.
But there were so few people today that Madam Pince, having nothing to do, simply educated the two good children who had taken the initiative to come to the Library—
"You must not scratch, tear, fold, soil, damage, throw, drop, or in any other way destroy, abuse, or profane the books; this is the iron rule of the Library."
"Besides that, no making noise, no eating in the Library, and definitely no running or chasing around, or I will make you bear the most terrible consequences within my authority. Do you understand?"
Both of them understood—this was forbidden, that was forbidden.
"Then can we borrow the books to read?" Soren asked.
Chapter 36
"Hmm—" Madam Pince stared at them intently, seemingly judging whether they were the type of obedient young wizards.
After pondering for a long while, she made her decision: "Considering you are the first two good students to come to the Library, I can relax the standards for you. Remember, borrowing books must be reviewed by me, the term is two weeks, remember to return the books on time before the deadline, and keep the requirements mentioned above in mind—do not damage the books!"
"I promise you, Madam Pince!" Soren Reed raised his hand to swear.
"Me too!" Hermione followed suit.
"Hmm... one more thing, do not go near the Restricted Section. There are magical alarms set up there; once triggered, just wait for your Head of House to come and collect you. Point deductions and detentions will definitely follow."
"Okay, Madam Pince!"
Soren Reed's smile remained unchanged, his heart as calm as an ancient well.
If the Restricted Section didn't have magical protections, he would find it strange; after all, there were too many dangerous books there, having already "achieved" a Dark Lord.
After finishing the instructions, a faint smile finally appeared on Madam Pince's face, allowing them to move freely.
The two thanked her again and walked into the Librarywith great enthusiasm.
Due to different needs, the two temporarily split up.
Under the comfortable warm lights, the Library was filled with the faint scent of ink and paper, instantly soothing the excitement in Soren Reed's heart.
He lingered among the countless bookshelves, searching for a long time along the classification signs, and finally found the book he desired—*The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 2*.
That's right, who said first-years can't self-study advanced knowledge!
If not for the worry of an unstable foundation and leaving a negative impression of being overly ambitious, he would have started by grabbing sixth or seventh-year textbooks to learn practical magic like [Armor Charm] and [Protego Totalum] first.
But today was his first time at the Library, and every move was being watched by Madam Pince, so he had better keep a low profile.
After choosing his book, he selected a reading table for four in a quiet corner.
Putting his own books aside first, he opened *The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 2* and checked the table of contents—
Disarming Charm, Engorgement Charm, Freezing Charm, Tickling Charm, Dancing Feet Spell, Stopping Charm, Scouring Charm...
These were all very practical spells, much stronger than the magic recorded in *The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1*.
Among them was Harry Potter's favorite Disarming Charm—Expelliarmus.
Looking at these spells, Soren Reed felt genuine joy; after more than a month, his skill list was finally about to expand.
Once he finished learning these, he would self-study the third-year curriculum to lay a solid foundation.
With the book in hand, after flipping through just a few pages, Soren Reed naturally entered a state of focus, ignoring the changes in the outside world.
He didn't know how much time had passed.
Suddenly—
"Pop!"
A textbook was slapped onto the table in front of him, making a crisp sound.
Soren Reed snapped back to reality instantly and looked up alertly.
Coming into view was Hermione's face, feigning anger, with a hint of glee hidden in her eyes from her successful prank.
"I really can't believe it!" Hermione used the tactic of accusing the victim first, "We agreed on fair competition, yet you went behind my back to study early!"
Because this was the Library, she kept her volume very low.
This made what should have been a very stern accusation sound like acting coquettish.
No, Soren Reed determined and confirmed, this was definitely acting coquettish.
Thus, he responded with a witty tone: "How can studying be considered stealing? I'm just getting a head start in the open!"
"Hmph—"
Hermione expressed dissatisfaction with this answer, but didn't dare to continue pestering him, mainly because she was afraid Madam Pince would scold her.
Just as she was about to sit down, she saw Soren Reedstand up and gesture for her to sit in the spot specifically left inside.
Hmm...
She had originally intended to sit opposite him.
But since Soren Reed had already stood up to make way, she couldn't very well refuse his kindness.
Having no choice, Hermione had to squeeze in next to him on one side, just like they were in the train compartment.
However, this also had a benefit—they could keep their voices very low when whispering, without worrying about disturbing Madam Pince.
After Hermione sat in as he wished, Soren Reed also sat down happily.
The most ideal Library partner in all of Hogwarts was in place; not only could she provide a learning efficiency bonus and increase affection, but she also produced high emotional value—this was what you called studying, dating, and entertainment all in one!
Opening their books again, the two academic high achievers quickly entered a state of study, immersed in the ocean of knowledge.
Soren Reed and the Magic Library: Chapter 55: Back in the Day, I Educated Hermione in the Library!
On a pleasant autumn afternoon, sunlight streamed through the tall Gothic arched windows, casting mottled light and shadows on the two young wizards.
In a state of extreme focus, tranquility became the main melody.
On the reading table, only the soft rustling sound could be heard, which was the sound of turning pages and quill pens writing on parchment.
Madam Pince, patrolling the Library, stopped for them once again.
The librarian, recognized by past students as "stern, rigid, and short-tempered," had a very soft expression at this moment, which could even be called kind.
Those two little ones, at the age of eleven, on the first day of their enrollment, could realize the value of knowledge and settle down to study seriously—they would surely achieve something in the future.
This was a little insight she had summarized after working at Hogwarts for many years and seeing dozens of classes of young wizards.
It's just...
Why didn't either of these two clever and studious little ones get sorted into Ravenclaw?
Perhaps the Sorting Hat made a mistake...
Standing at a distance and observing for a while, Madam Pince walked over and tapped the table with her fingertips, making two "thump-thump" sounds.
The two young wizards, immersed in their studies, looked up blankly at this thin lady who held the power of life and death in the Library.
"Studying hard is good, but don't forget to eat and sleep; you are at the age where you are growing."
Reminded by her, the two realized it was already six o'clock in the evening—it was time for dinner.
"We've been studying for two hours!?" Hermione looked incredulous. In her subjective consciousness, they had only just started studying a little while ago, how could it already be two hours...
Madam Pince didn't answer her, silently pointing to the wall clock.
The wall clock wouldn't lie; it ticked every second, reminding people of the passage of time.
"—Alright."
Hermione stopped struggling, quickly packed up her Herbology Class homework, and turned her head to look at Soren Reed: "By the way, did History of Magic not assign any homework? I saw you reading the whole time."
Soren Reed's mouth twitched: "Actually, he did, a full foot long. I really think Professor Binns might be senile to assign so much homework in the first class."
Hermione did a quick conversion; one foot was about thirty centimeters.
Ah, this...
It was indeed a little bit too much, far exceeding the Herbology Class homework.
"Then why didn't you write the homework first?"
"That's too simple; I wanted to do something more important first."
As he spoke, Soren Reed closed *The Standard Book of Spells*, and asked politely: "Madam Pince, may I leave my textbook here to reserve the spot? I'll be back right after dinner."
Madam Pince glanced at the book cover, then at Soren Reed, and answered a question with another: "You are self-studying the next school year's curriculum on the first day of school? And... don't you need a grammar dictionary to translate technical terms?"
The reason for such a question was because English was truly a very inefficient language; as an alphabetic language, every new thing required creating a new word to define it.
Even adults whose native language was English might not necessarily understand what the author was writing when they picked up a professional book in the Library.
And young wizards, especially those from wizarding families, happened to be a group of "students with uneven subjects" whose basic disciplines were relatively weak, so they needed dictionaries even more to help interpret books.
However—the two new students in front of her seemed to have no such trouble.
Soren Reed said nonchalantly: "I don't need a dictionary for now. Back when I was in primary school, I had already self-studied some basic courses from middle school, high school, and university."
"..."
For a moment, Madam Pince felt he was bragging, but looking at his calm expression, it seemed true.
Beside him, Hermione was stunned and began to doubt her life.
After pondering for a moment, Madam Pince agreed to his request, but also proposed—if his grades in various subjects were poor, she would stop him from self-studying advanced courses, because laying a good foundation was more important.
Soren Reed indicated that she was very right and completely agreed with her point of view.
Subsequently, the two new students left their books in place and rushed to the Great Hall.
On the way, Hermione kept looking like she wanted to say something, as if there was something she wanted to ask, but didn't actually speak up.
Soren Reed simply teased her on purpose, pretending not to notice.
After eating quickly, on the way back to the Library, Hermione finally couldn't help asking: "Soren Reed, have you really studied high school and university courses?"
If it were true, she hoped it was false.
Because she hadn't studied them...
"You'll know in a while~"
Soren Reed, very mischievously, didn't give her an answer, letting her pout angrily on the side.
Returning to the Library, the two went back to their old spot.
Soren Reed placed several history books side by side, reading each one for over ten minutes.
Immediately, he closed the books, took out parchment, and wrote furiously.
The quill in his hand seemed to come alive, writing the History of Magic homework at a dazzling speed.
The one-foot-long assignment was written fluently in one go; apart from dipping ink and adjusting the position of the paper, there was almost no pause in the middle, appearing so smooth and natural.
Hermione was almost dumbfounded on the side, stretching her neck hard to look at his homework.
Madam Pince, who was bored, also came over, and after he finished writing, she picked it up to check it for him.
Thanks to Professor Binns's unchanging lecture content for decades, Madam Pince had long since memorized most of the standard answers and corresponding reference books for primary courses through exchanges with generations of new students.
Reading it at a glance, her evaluation of Soren Reed's assignment was—needless to say more.
Silently returning the assignment to him, Madam Pinceturned and left.
At least in the first-year History of Magic course, she felt Soren Reed no longer needed extra guidance.
Hermione, who had been waiting impatiently, snatched the assignment and read it curiously and seriously.
"Hmm—"
This felt bad...
This feeling was really quite bad...
After reading it roughly, she felt that she probably... maybe... might not be able to write such perfect History of Magic homework.
Soren Reed combined relevant knowledge from several history books and added some historical documents from the Muggle World to supplement it, writing a brilliant History of Magic assignment.
If she were Professor Binns, she would definitely give this assignment full marks.
By contrast...
She took out the Herbology Class homework she had just finished and suddenly discovered that the content she had previously thought was good seemed so empty and boring, completely copying knowledge points from the book.
Soren Reed keenly sensed her anomaly and extended a helping hand to her.
After checking her homework, Soren Reed reached a conclusion: Hermione was certainly very smart, but she was more like that typical type of exam-oriented talent, which was the so-called—bookworm who studies by rote.
Her way of thinking was not flexible enough, too rigid.
This might also be one of the reasons why the Sorting Hatdidn't sort her into Ravenclaw.
Fortunately, this flaw could be remedied. He, an adult who had fought his way through exam-oriented education and graduation theses, would teach her a lesson!
To avoid disturbing the formidable Madam Pince, he whispered into Hermione's ear, enjoying the joy of being a teacher, and while he was at it, he could also admire the girl's cute blush. His sense of pleasure doubled~
It wasn't until 7:30 in the evening that Hermione finally wrote a second draft of her Herbology Class homework that she was satisfied with.
Then, prompted by Soren Reed, she hurriedly gathered her schoolbag and ran off.
—Gryffindor, there was still a History of Magic class at eight o'clock tonight. Poor Hermione.
Soren Reed waved at her back, watching her trot away.
In the air, the faint scent of Hermione had not yet dissipated, keeping him in a great mood.
Unfortunately, it didn't last long...
A quarter of an hour later, Madam Pince came to usher people out: "The Library closes at eight in the evening. Hurry up and choose the books you want to borrow, then go back to your Common Room."
She paused, then added: "Since you are a good child, I'll give you a special reminder—studying is important, but socializing is just as important. I've heard that you don't seem to fit in very well in your House?"
"Just a small problem, I can solve it myself. Thank you for your concern."
Soren Reed didn't want to talk more about this topic. Once he decisively defeated Malfoy, the other first-years would naturally back off.
He asked Madam Pince to use the Accio to help him find a few second-year reference books, then reluctantly walked out of the Library.
Behind him, the Library doors slowly closed, ruthlessly locking out the young wizard who thirsted for knowledge.
"It's only eight o'clock... closing so early..."
Soren Reed couldn't finish his sentence; glared at by Madam Pince, he shrank his neck and slipped away.
After the last young wizard had left the Library area, Madam Pince activated the detection wards in the corridor, completing her last task of the day.
Just as she was about to finish her shift, she bumped into an acquaintance—or one could say, a colleague—at the corner.
"The Grey Lady? Why are you here?"
At this hour, why was the ghost of Ravenclaw not staying in her own House, but instead running to the Library?
"Just passing by. I won't disturb you. Get some rest early."
The Grey Lady's attitude towards the librarian was quite friendly. She said this calmly and then floated off in the direction Soren Reed had left, leaving a bewildered Madam Pince behind.
Soren Reed and the Magic Library: Chapter 56 Soren Reed: That's why I say, brats are annoying...
Leaving the Library, he walked through the castle corridors filled with magical colors.
Soren Reed had no heart to pay attention to the scenery around him. In his mind, the lyrics of a classic old song echoed repeatedly—I don't know why, but sorrow surrounds me...
His biggest sorrow right now was that the Library closed too early, and he had to find another place to read.
Sigh...
Hogwarts' administrative efficiency was still too low. If it were up to him, they should just appoint a ghost as the librarian—24 hours a day, all year round, no salary needed. Wouldn't that be a legendary story if it got out!
Unlike now, where there were hundreds of thousands of magic books lying on the shelves, but they couldn't be savored by a book lover like him. What a sin—!
Muttering to himself the whole way, he walked straight into the dungeons and returned to the Slytherin Common Room.
Just after passing through the entrance, a burst of enthusiastic noise came from nearby.
He stopped to look; it was the first-years from his year, both boys and girls, gathering together to chat.
Soren Reed hadn't intended to join them, but someone didn't want to let him off so easily.
"Look who's back! Soren Reed—the great Slytherinwarrior! Planning to win honor for the House by eating all of Gryffindor's food and making them go hungry!"
Words that sounded like praise but were actually belittling and sarcastic came over.
The speaker—Draco.
After a few hours of recovery, he clearly felt he was back on top again, provoking Soren Reed once more.
"Come over here. We happen to be talking about an interesting topic. Even you—oh, sorry, I meant—even you can participate."
His arrogant and annoying remarks were undoubtedly proof that he needed to be taught a lesson.
Soren Reed paused, turned around, and strode over.
Avoidance wouldn't solve any problems. Since the opponent wanted to make a move, he would accompany him to the end!
Seeing that he really dared to come over, Draco raised his eyebrows in surprise and pointed to the seat farthest from himself, making his stance clear.
The girls of this year, however, were quietly exchanging glances, their attitude towards Soren Reed being rather ambiguous.
After Soren Reed approached, he took a casual look, sat down on the comfortable sofa, and sized up the first-years present.
At this look, he discovered that everyone was here; including him, the entire first-year class was present.
His gaze continued downward. On the low, understated, and luxurious black table, a few wand boxes were scattered, and the participants were also holding their wands, clearly discussing the topic.
As his thoughts turned to this, Draco happened to speak:
"Before you came back, we were talking about a topic that concerns every wizard—wands. Just in case you don't have common knowledge in this area, I'll kindly tell you: not all first-years use newly bought wands. Some families with long traditions let their descendants inherit wands left behind by their ancestors."
As if to prove that what Draco said was true, the girl closest to him ostentatiously displayed her wand.
Soren Reed looked over and recognized her identity from her overly obvious facial features—Pansy, Draco's future first lover.
It was regrettable that her appearance was quite faithful to the original work, possessing a face that Harry Potter had certified as "looking like a pug."
To avoid laughing on the spot, Soren Reed quickly looked away.
Draco didn't care about his reaction at all, just urged: "You come from the Muggle World, so you must have been to Ollivander's Wand Shop. The shopkeeper must have told you, too, that every wand is unique, and when you choose a wand, the wand also chooses you. So—take it out, let us see what kind of wand you got."
After saying this, he also took the initiative to show off his own wand.
It was a brownish wand with smooth lines and a very simple design.
Soren Reed only remembered the Elder Wand and didn't have a deep impression of his initial wand, so he simply said directly: "Before asking others to do something, you should show sincerity first."
Draco pursed his lips, paused for a moment, and proudly lifted his chin: "Fine, since you are so interested in my wand, I will reluctantly educate you a bit."
This was clearly imitating what Soren Reed had said during the History of Magic class, causing a burst of giggles among the girls.
As the winner at that time, Soren Reed was indifferent to this.
On the contrary, the other party involved—Blaise, smiled awkwardly, but didn't dare to bare his teeth at Draco.
Draco didn't care whether this lackey was losing face or not. He fiddled with his wand with both hands and began to introduce it: "Hawthorn wood, unicorn hair, ten inches long, suitable for both healing magic and Dark Arts, and extremely difficult to master."
He obviously had also memorized Mr. Ollivander's evaluation, and was now saying it to show off to his classmates.
In his view, this so-called "extremely difficult to master" was ironclad proof of his own outstanding talent.
Soren Reed lowered his eyes slightly, beginning to recall the characteristics of these two wand materials.
He remembered everything Mr. Ollivander had said, and the book *Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them* also contained some information. Combining the two, he quickly recalled it.
"Hawthorn wands have a complex, intriguing nature, best suited for wizards with contradictory personalities or those currently experiencing inner conflict. Paired with unicorn hair, which is most loyal to its owner, it can build an extremely stable connection."
"What needs special attention is that unicorn hair is the least prone to casting Dark Arts; this perhaps suggests that you are not an evil person at heart. And the path truly suitable for you might be a doctor... oh, in the Wizarding World it's called a Healer, just like the school nurse at Hogwarts."
Draco listened proudly at first, thinking he was using this way to curry favor with him and bow down to him.
But the more he heard, the more wrong it felt—
What did "contradictory personalities or currently experiencing inner conflict" mean?
And what was that about not being an evil person at heart and not being suitable for casting Dark Arts?
He was a noble Slytherin!
As everyone knew, people from this House were noble and powerful, and adept at Dark Arts; how could he possibly become a Healer?
Nonsense!
This hateful guy must be deceiving him; he was simply rotten to the core!
Draco resisted the urge to curse; doing so would be beneath his status. He gritted his teeth and said:
"I don't know where you heard this misinformation, but I must warn you: you had better not see my Dark Arts, or you will know just how ridiculously wrong you are."
"Alright, my wand introduction is finished. It's your turn—speak up!"
Soren Reed glanced at him indifferently, unmoved by his exasperation.
He had figured it out: the current eleven-year-old Dracowas purely a brat who hadn't grown up. He wasn't necessarily evil, but more so possessed the restlessness and annoyance fitting his age.
In short—just a little kid.
In the spirit of equivalent exchange, Soren Reed didn't hide anything. He generously raised his right hand to show the wand he always carried with him: "Holly wood, phoenix feather, eleven inches long, excellent flexibility."
He didn't say anything more, confident that based on this information alone, this group of half-grown kids wouldn't be able to tell anything.
Sure enough, Draco and the others didn't know at all how special this combination was, or what kind of extraordinary origin that phoenix feather had. They only remembered the holly wood.
"Ha—" Draco beamed, "It's actually a holly wood wand. I remember I tried this model. Let me think... don't any of you speak yet!"
He spread his hands, signaling the others not to interrupt; he wanted to find the answer himself.
A dozen seconds later, Draco's eyes lit up, and he spoke again: "I remember now. This is a wand with defensive properties that will choose those who need protection or might experience danger. Thinking about it this way, this ordinary wand is indeed very suitable for an ordinary you! Hahaha!"
"Hahaha—"
Draco's cronies laughed along with him, showing disdain for Soren Reed's wand.
Soren Reed initially didn't have much emotional fluctuation, after all, he knew these idiots were ridiculously wrong. But soon, his expression shifted imperceptibly; he felt the wand trembling slightly in his palm and sensed a wave of angry emotion.
He, the owner, was not angry, but the precious wand seemed to really want to cast a vicious curse on the faces of these brats.
[Don't be angry, don't be angry, it's not worth it to bicker with these brats. When we have a chance later, we'll get our own back—]
Soren Reed's fingertips gently stroked the wand, accompanied by mental communication to soothe the wand's emotions.
After a long while, the wand finally stopped making a fuss and returned to calm.
During this time, Draco and the others had laughed enough. They unanimously gave Soren Reed a side profile and excluded him from their small circle again.
Soren Reed was speechless at them, too. He hugged his books and walked toward the round desk in the corner, sitting down with his back to them.
Ineffective socializing was a pure waste of life; he might as well study hard and strive to become a master of magic as soon as possible—
Academic mode, ON!
Soren Reed and the Magic Library: Chapter 57 Late Night, Common Room, with Cassandra
Once the earplugs were in, bye-bye world.
At first, Soren Reed was occasionally distracted by the noise of the brats, and his blood pressure fluctuated a bit. But as he entered a flow state, this interference was automatically blocked, and the whole world became quiet.
The knowledge recorded in the books flowed into his mind like a trickling stream, constructing a Library in his mind that belonged solely to him.
Reading—Understanding—Thinking————
In this world, apart from the few books in his hands, there was nothing else.
In the first-year lounge, the other first-years were still sharing the joy of first arriving at Hogwarts, and in their exchanges, they intentionally or unintentionally revealed their elders' learning experiences to show off their family backgrounds and confirm each other's social status.
It was hard to say about students in the other three Houses, but in Slytherin House, blood status and background were unavoidable topics. Here—heroes do ask about origins!
Undoubtedly, among this year's first-years, the boys were led by Draco, and the girls were led by Pansy.
Further down, the second tier consisted of those who also belonged to the Sacred Twenty-Eight: Daphne, Theodore Nott, and Millicent Bulstrode.
Except for the five people above, other first-years who were not sure if they were pure-blood or half-blood were all uniformly classified into the third tier, responsible for playing the role of atmosphere creators and background boards.
As for Soren Reed—
Draco glared at his back again and again and again, deliberately speaking loudly, trying to interfere with him, but it didn't work at all.
The reason he insisted on targeting Soren Reed was that he "didn't follow the rules," didn't play the role of the submissive, but instead played the challenger—the kind of dangerous challenger who could threaten the dominant.
His father's teachings were still ringing in his ears, but he had just arrived at school and hadn't yet had time to establish authority before being contradicted by Soren Reed again and again. It was truly hateful!
To make this self-righteous guy feel uncomfortable, Dracotook the initiative to organize a game for everyone.
Chapter 38
"Exploding Snap, Wizard's Chess, or Gobstones, anything will do—the noisier, the better. Let's see how he reads then!"
Malfoy's scheme succeeded!
—It successfully annoyed the seniors who were stressed out about their Wizarding Level exams, and they were given a good scolding by the male Prefect.
Under the pressure of authority, the first-years could only tearfully submit.
After that, the girls were the first to leave.
Everyone at Hogwarts has resistance; the seniors might respect their elders, but they certainly don't coddle the young.
The first-year runts are at the bottom of the food chain and must learn to yield to the upperclassmen.
The girls returned to the dormitory early to finish washing up before the evening rush and before the senior girls returned from their evening classes; otherwise, they would have to wait in line at the very back.
After another two hours or so, the boys couldn't hold out any longer either.
On the first day of school, everyone was incredibly excited and hadn't had a moment of rest. By ten o'clock at night, fatigue began to take its toll, weighing down their eyelids.
Plus, with three major classes tomorrow—all of which the first-years were looking forward to—they scattered, returning to the dormitory in twos and threes.
Before leaving, Malfoy glared at Soren Reed one last time and walked away with a haughty expression.
He felt he had figured it all out—
The only reason Soren Reed had managed a small victory in History of Magic was by rote memorization. Once they reached classes that required spellcasting and practical operation, the disadvantage of his background in the Muggle World would be undeniably exposed!
The only thing to watch out for was his Levitation Charm, but he couldn't possibly be that good at every spell.
No need to worry, the advantage is mine!
After the crowd dispersed, Soren Reed was the only one left in the first-year lounge; finally, no one was bothering him.
In reality, ever since he had entered his flow state, he had been completely immersed in concentration and hadn't been paying attention to that bunch of brats anyway.
After more than a month of hard study, he discovered that he seemed to be enjoying some of the bonus effects even before unlocking the achievements.
For example, the bonus [Reader's Focus] from [I Love Reading]—people who truly love reading can enter a state of focus anytime, anywhere, as soon as they open a book.
Similarly, although he hadn't unlocked [Skilled Spellcaster] yet, he had already initially mastered [Spell Fine-tuning].
—It was quite magical!
He had questioned the achievement system, but naturally, he received no response.
But he was more than happy to enjoy the bonuses early!
Just like that, he sat alone in the corner of the first-year lounge, and except for the occasional trip to the washroom, he spent all his remaining time studying.
As time passed, the darkness at the bottom of the lake grew deeper.
In the Slytherin Common Room, the greenish crystal chandelier cast mottled light and shadows reflected by the water, outlining the coiled silver snake carvings on the surrounding stone walls and making them appear even more mysterious and unfathomable.
Outside the magnificent observation windows, one could only vaguely see strange aquatic creatures swimming past.
Finally, the first yawn broke the silence in the room, and then, one by one, the students began to pack up their belongings, ending their day's schedule.
Before leaving the common room, some upperclassmen saw Soren Reed sitting alone in the corner and whispered to their companions about the deeds of this "legendary first-year."
But in the end, no one actually went to talk to him; after all, the seniors were busy, and they had no spare time to pay attention to a strange junior, let alone the fact that he was suspected to be of Muggle origin.
Slowly, when the last student disappeared up the spiral staircase, the entire Slytherin Common Room was enveloped in quiet, leaving only that crystal chandelier, which continued to cast its soft light upon Soren Reed.
Some time passed after that, and Soren Reed, completely oblivious to the passage of time, remained focused until a graceful figure moved through the light and shadow, coming to his side and peeking from behind to look at the book in his hands.
Sensing someone approaching, Soren Reed turned his head back unhurriedly.
It was the beautiful female Prefect—Cassandra.
At this moment, she lacked the high spirits she had in the morning; in the night, her heroic air instead showed a touch of softness.
"Soren Reed, it's already past midnight. Why aren't you going to sleep?"
The female Prefect called his name accurately, and her beautiful eyes began to dart around him, observing the items he had with him.
—Nothing special.
Well... assuming it's not considered special for a first-year student to be reading entirely second-year textbooks.
Soren Reed looked at her quietly for a few moments, mainly because her green eyes were truly captivating; the way they shimmered like rippling autumn water made his heart skip a beat.
Steadying himself, he then spoke the excuse he had prepared in advance: "I have light sleep syndrome, PrefectCassandra."
"You have... what syndrome?"
"Light sleep syndrome." Soren Reed emphasized again, "A psychiatric condition, the typical symptom is insomnia. My situation is that I only get sleepy at three in the morning every day, and I wake up promptly at seven in the morning; I can't sleep more even if I want to.
I didn't want to go back to the dormitory and disturb my roommates' rest, so I just sat here and read."
Cassandra opened her mouth, a half-smile on her face: "Such a good illness, is there any way I can catch it too? I always feel like there's too little time and too little energy every day; I never expected there to be such a good illness to solve that problem."
Hearing the teasing in her tone, Soren Reed smiled gently and asked if the common room had a "closing time."
Cassandra shook her head lightly, telling him—the common room is open to all house members 24/7, and the Prefect's night patrol range does not include this area.
"However... at this time, I've actually finished my night patrol. After I leave, you'll probably have to stay in the common room by yourself. That's not a problem, is it?"
"Of course, please don't worry, Prefect Cassandra. I think reading quietly by myself is quite nice."
"Enjoying your alone time?" Cassandra nodded slightly, "Good taste. Being able to endure loneliness is also a necessary factor for success. Then I wish you success in your studies and hope you win that single room."
After speaking, she turned and drifted away, her back still so elegant and composed.
The female Prefect's arrival had distracted Soren Reedsomewhat; it took him a full three minutes to re-enter his flow state and continue studying.
The life of a straight-A student is just that simple, unadorned, and happy.
Soren Reed and the Magic Library: Chapter 58: My Wand and I Are the Best in the World!
The night continued.
After midnight, everything was silent, making the sound of turning pages appear exceptionally clear.
The lonely reader was immersed in the world built by the books until his wand vibrated gently, bringing his consciousness back to reality.
"Is it three in the morning?"
Soren Reed blinked a few times to relieve the dryness caused by reading for a long time.
He turned sideways to look at the clock on the wall and realized it was only two-thirty.
The wand was urging him to go to sleep half an hour earlier than usual...
Oh, that's not right. He remembered that he had other arrangements before going to sleep today, so it was half an hour early.
"Thanks for reminding me, otherwise I would have almost forgotten~"
Soren Reed gently stroked the wand body in a friendly manner, and the wand responded with a joyful emotion.
Quickly packing up the scattered books and stationery, he returned to the dormitory on tiptoe.
This was the time of day when ordinary people were most sleepy; his two roommates were fast asleep and hadn't noticed his movements at all.
He put away his school bag and took some other personal items.
Soren Reed left the dormitory again; his next target—the washroom!
Don't misunderstand; it was the Slytherin boys' public washroom, not the one where Myrtle was.
Soren Reed wasn't confident yet about not getting caught during a night prowl, and his goal this time wasn't to do anything big; he just wanted to take a bath.
Arriving at the washroom, he selected an exquisite little cubicle that was almost impossible to snag during peak hours.
Pushing open the frosted glass door, he found a luxurious Roman-style bathing room inside, featuring a shower for single use, a bathtub, and a partition for changing clothes.
Soren Reed hadn't seen what the legendary Prefect's bathroom looked like, but this luxurious cubicle was already on par with a star-rated hotel.
He took off his clothes, rinsed off simply, and then lay down in the bathtub filled with warm water.
As the water overflowed from the tub, splashing crystal-clear droplets onto the white tiles, Soren Reed slowly let out a satisfied sigh: "It's so good that the school has money—"
Hogwarts not only didn't charge tuition and provided free meals and accommodation, but it also offered various high-quality services.
Take the public washroom, for example; it provided hot water 24/7, and there was no need to clean up. After the students left, there were diligent House-elves to take care of everything.
It was a pity they didn't provide meal delivery and massage services; otherwise, who knows how great that would be.
Even so, it was the ultimate enjoyment.
It wasn't just Soren Reed; even his wand was very happy.
As soon as his fingers let go, the holly wand floated to the surface of the water, spinning clockwise in a leisurely manner.
This was not a result of Soren Reed's intentional control; the wand was truly moving on its own.
To this day, he was absolutely certain—
The wands in the Harry Potter world possessed a certain degree of self-awareness or, in other words, vitality. They also had their own personalities, similar to Machine Spirits... no, no, in the magic worldview, this should be called an Artifact Spirit!
Like this wand of Soren Reed's, which he had intercepted from Harry, perhaps the phoenix in question had a cleanliness obsession or something; this wand was very clean and had to be wiped and washed many times a day to be satisfied.
And it was clingy, especially clingy.
Master Ollivander once said that phoenix feathers were like a willful and picky little girlfriend—extremely difficult to please, hard to control, and possessing overly strong initiative.
But Soren Reed really didn't feel these negative effects; he just felt that his wand was extremely handy, casting any spell with ease, and the power was quite considerable.
According to his own tests, the power of casting with a wand was at least several times that of wandless magic, and there were also huge improvements in attack range, casting speed, and operational precision.
This was perhaps the reason why human wizards resolutely forbade other magical races from using wands.
After confirming this, Soren Reed began to cultivate his relationship with the wand attentively—almost never leaving his wand, keeping it by his pillow when sleeping, bringing it in to wash together when bathing, and talking to it when no one was around; their relationship was quite harmonious.
Today was, of course, no exception.
"How is it? Coming to Hogwarts Castle, do you feel that the air is filled with the aura of magic?"
The wand spun clockwise.
"It's not bad here, right? There wasn't such a comfortable bathtub at the Orphanage. When I learn the Water-Fire Immunity Charm, maybe I can try lying in the bathtub and reading, relaxing and studying both at the same time~"
The wand spun faster.
"That brat named Malfoy is very annoying, right? Let's turn up the heat on him in tomorrow's Transfiguration class and see if he can still laugh."
The wand spun like a windmill!
Just like that, Soren Reed soaked in the bathtub for twenty minutes before standing up with satisfaction.
Taking a hot bath greatly relieved both mental exhaustion and physical fatigue; no wonder the Japanese were so fond of bath culture.
Soren Reed decided to cultivate this good habit; anyway, since he slept late, he could enjoy the washroom all to himself!
Stepping out of the bathtub, he raised his wand, which was in high spirits, and tried to cast the magic he had learned today on himself: "Scourgify—!"
The spell was successful!
The magic turned into an invisible wind, gently brushing away the clear water clinging to his skin, saving him the step of drying his body.
"Success on the first try, that's me for you!"
The joy brought by this small success was genuine.
Soren Reed kept a good mood with the corners of his mouth upturned until he drifted into dreamland.
*
The second day of school.
The first class in the morning was the Defense Against the Dark Arts Class class, which the first-years were most looking forward to!
That was Dark Arts—powerful, mysterious, evil—in the minds of the little wizards who didn't understand anything, it was roughly equivalent to being cool!
Especially for the Slytherin first-years; they had a built-in filter for Dark Arts.
But they had probably all forgotten that the name of this class was Defense Against the Dark Arts Class, not Dark Arts instruction, and what was even worse, the teacher was a garlic superman...
Just walking into the corridor where the Defense Against the Dark Arts Class classroom was located, the pervasive smell of garlic was disgusting enough.
Entering the classroom, the level of disgust was super-doubled, evolving to the point of being choking and stinging to the eyes.
The little wizards who had just finished breakfast almost suffocated, and then, after a girl led the way by retching, it triggered a chain reaction.
Even Soren Reed almost retched along with them.
Fortunately, he held it in, for the sake of his perfect image.