You're really something~ To be able to make them split from within in the very first week—those guys who only know how to talk big should really learn what strategy is from you!"
"Uh... I didn't, I wasn't..."
"I said you don't need to be modest. Regardless of your initial intentions, we are very satisfied with this result! Go in there with your head held high. Now, many upperclassmen think that you are the most shrewd and resourceful Slytherin among all the first-years. As I said before, keep it up!"
Soren Reed and the Magic Library: Chapter 74 - Malfoy: I get it now, Soren is definitely a half-blood!
"..."
What kind of hellish misunderstanding is this...
Soren was speechless, wanting to explain but not knowing where to begin.
Just as he was about to leave, he saw the small basket he was carrying. Out of Eastern politeness, he made small talk: "Prefect Cassandra, do you like strawberries? These were just picked from the greenhouse this afternoon."
Cassandra looked down. They were indeed very fresh strawberries, looking quite delicious.
"Hmm... you're thoughtful. Just leave them here."
"...Okay."
Soren bent down to place the small basket at her feet, then turned and walked toward the first-year lounge area.
As he walked, he muttered to himself—was his polite remark really that sincere?
He hadn't originally intended to... never mind, using someone else's favor to gain credit is still a win, right?
At eight o'clock on Friday night, the common room was packed.
Naturally, many people saw the friendly interaction between Soren and the female Prefect. Combined with the newly leaked rumor that "he is Snape's favorite first-year," they silently adjusted their assessment of him upward.
Although he was at best a half-blood, this talent and ability to please professors were certainly worthy of recognition.
And the ones paying the most attention to Soren were undoubtedly the first-years in his year.
Within just a week of school starting, these people had mastered Soren's daily routine, simply because it was an easy question—he went to the Library every day after class, returned to the common room at about the same time after it closed, and then sat in the corner reading until midnight.
No one knew what time he went to sleep, only that he woke up at seven sharp every morning, just like a wound-up robot—precise to the point of being boring.
While he was still far away, Pansy lowered her voice to a level only those around her could hear, muttering: "I really couldn't tell before, he has the potential to be a gigolo. Not only can he please the professors, but he can also make the female Prefect happy. Speaking of which, did she accept your little gifts?"
Given the high status of "Prefects" in the house, families with heritage would prepare gifts for their children to give to the Prefects after enrollment, to build good relations.
Of course, such gifts shouldn't be too expensive; it's the thought that counts.
But Pansy encountered a small problem when giving her gift—the male Prefect, who also belonged to the Sacred Twenty-Eight, respected tradition, but the female Prefectrefused, saying only that she appreciated the gesture.
The arrogant Pansy was naturally very uncomfortable. Later, after asking around, she learned that the female Prefect had always been proud and aloof, and treated everyone about the same.
Several other core members gave the same answer, confirming the truth of this information.
"Then why did she accept Soren's things? Because fruit doesn't count as a gift?" Pansy asked, puzzled, looking at someone who was looking down in silence. "Malfoy... why aren't you saying anything today?"
The melancholy, slick-haired boy looked up at her, exhaled through his nose, and couldn't be bothered to answer.
What else could it be? Depression, of course...
Thinking about the full 20-point gap, Malfoy felt he would never smile again.
Even Snape, whom he regarded as his savior, had given Soren even more points. What else could he hope for?
The only reason he hadn't completely despaired yet was that there was one class they hadn't taken yet. That class was—Flying Class!
Soren, who came from the Muggle World, had absolutely, definitely never ridden a broomstick, but he himself loved this sport and had longed to become the most popular Quidditch Seeker before enrolling.
As long as he could break the rules to secure that position and perform well in the practice matches before the season, he would have a chance to pull some strings and have the male Prefect give him more points, perhaps allowing him to turn the tables.
At least... don't lose so miserably.
Just as he was lost in thought, Soren passed by them and gave them a faint look.
Pansy immediately reacted, returning a hostile glare. Theodore and Millicent stood with her.
But apart from the three of them and Malfoy's trio, the other first-years' attitude toward Soren was ambiguous; they didn't take the initiative to show goodwill, but they didn't show hostility either, and some even nodded slightly in response.
Seeing that they weren't making a scene today, Soren's impression of them improved slightly. Immediately, he returned to his throne and began studying hard.
Watching his back, Pansy deliberately made a look of disgust, whispering to those around her: "Don't you think he's pretentious? He sits there reading and studying every day until everyone else is gone, just to make it look like he's hardworking and everyone else isn't as diligent as him..."
Some of the first-years nodded in agreement, but others raised objections: "But his grades are really good. He comes from the Muggle World, yet he can get first place in every subject. I guess it's the result of studying desperately."
Pansy turned her head sharply to look at the speaker, her expression as shocked as if she were looking at a Yeti: "Daphne... how come you're speaking up for him? You aren't thinking of siding with him, are you?"
Daphne, who had the highest beauty and best temperament among the girls this year, downplayed her skepticism: "How could that be? I just think that since he has worked so hard, it's reasonable for him to have some achievements. But grades are just grades after all, and they don't represent everything."
Hearing this, Malfoy looked up at her, feeling that what she said was much more pleasant to the ear than Pansy's.
Academic grades certainly don't represent everything; otherwise, wouldn't the generations of accumulation and connections of great families become a joke?
Even if Soren could win the first-year competition, he couldn't shake his own status as the leader among the first-years. This was the confidence that the "Malfoy name" gave him!
That said, he still didn't want to lose...
Just thinking about it felt embarrassing—the heir of the noble Malfoy family, actually losing to a Mud... no, a half-blood!
That's it, a Mudblood couldn't have this kind of potential and talent; Soren is definitely a half-blood!
He had to correct everyone's impression of Soren as soon as possible. How could there be a Mudblood in Slytherin!
But even so, losing to him was still hard to accept...
Malfoy continued to emo, feeling the melancholy of faint sadness flowing in his heart.
Friday night passed by slowly like this.
Because tomorrow was the weekend, there were many more students staying up late, but in the end, none of them outlasted Soren. After leaving looks of admiration, they quietly dispersed.
September 7th, Saturday. The students of Hogwartswelcomed the first weekend of the semester.
The weather was very kind; a light drizzle fell before sunrise, but it dispersed by dawn, leaving only the fresh scent of earth, allowing the students to enjoy a pleasant holiday.
At 7:15 in the morning, Soren arrived at the Great Hall on time.
Hermione arrived at about the same time, once again sitting side-by-side with him to have breakfast.
Perhaps because it was the weekend, most of the first-year little lions chose to sleep in, so no one came to bother them.
Soren asked with concern about her situation in Gryffindor, actively mentioning the rumors of "Gryffindor infighting."
Hermione confirmed the truth of this rumor, but she didn't think it was that serious. As long as she took the initiative to launch an offensive and kept adding points for the house, everything would get better!
Since she said so, Soren could only wish her well.
After breakfast, the two began their second exploration of Hogwarts Castle, with the goal—to find an empty classroom, or some other room, to serve as their secret training ground!
Soren Reed and the Magic Library: Chapter 75 - Finding a Secret Training Ground
Exploring the ever-changing magic castle together again, the two were full of laughter.
This time they adopted a carpet search, starting from the first floor, trying to open every door they encountered. Occasionally, they would knock and tap on suspicious walls and corners, looking for the secret passages mentioned by the upperclassmen.
Unfortunately, this aimless search method was not very effective; they didn't find any secret passages, but instead often invited the mockery of paintings and magic suits of armor.
At this moment, in a corner on the west side of the first floor. Soren unwillingly raised his wand and cast a spell on a suspicious wall: "Aparecium—!"
A flash of light at the tip of his wand, and an invisible beam of magic hit the wall, stirring up a ripple. Once again, nothing happened...
"Well, it seems that if we want to find a secret passage without information, we at least need to master 'Revelio'."
"Uh... I haven't heard of it. What year is that magic taught?" Hermione tilted her head to look at him.
"Not sure, probably a fifth or sixth-year spell. It's an advanced version of the 'Revealing Charm' I used, with a wider range, capable of detecting more types of hidden charms and magical disguises."
"Oh, okay, it sounds difficult..." Hermione seemed a bit distracted, because she suddenly realized that Soren had already learned a second-year spell, while she herself hadn't—how terrible, she was lagging behind again!
Soren's thoughts were entirely focused on recalling the secret passages in the original work, but those were originally just minor details, not as deeply impressed upon his mind as the important plot points, so he really couldn't remember them for the time being.
In desperation, the two had to continue searching using the clumsy method. When passing the second floor, Soren brought Hermione to a stop in front of the bathroom where Myrtle was.
Hermione obviously recognized that this was the Abandoned Bathroom the upperclassmen had mentioned. She turned to Soren and made a gesture for him to wait, then tiptoed over to the door and pressed her ear against it to listen.
The next second, Soren saw her whole body shake, and she scurried back.
"What's wrong?" "There's really someone crying inside!" Hermione reported to him in a low voice, looking shaken. "It scared me to death. I thought the legend wasn't fake; it turns out the upperclassmen weren't trying to scare us."
"Oh? Could it be that ghost you told me about... what... what was her name?"
Soren pretended to have forgotten, guiding Hermione to answer the question to deepen her impression.
"It's Myrtle! Yes, I remember that's what it's called!" Hermione answered quickly, her gaze constantly drifting toward the bathroom door, filled with a mix of fear and curiosity.
Soren pondered for a moment, then suddenly asked tentatively: "What do you think... can we use this place as a secret training ground? This is an Abandoned Bathroom, so no one should be fighting us for it."
Hearing his words, Hermione looked at him in shock and blurted out: "It's haunted... there's a ghost here! And it's that gi-girls' bathroom, are you serious?"
"It is—an abandoned—girls' bathroom." For the sake of his own reputation, Soren emphasized the prefix. "Rounding it off, it's no different from an empty room, and no one will use it anyway."
"Hmm... that may be true..." Hermione thought carefully and felt that his sudden idea actually made sense, but she was still a bit resistant.
Soren didn't insist, claiming they would look elsewhere, and pulled her away. As he turned, he silently added a note in his heart—passed by the door twice without entering. One more time, and he could go in openly.
The next problem was that Myrtle was always staying inside, so he had to find a way to deal with her or lure her away.
The two continued to explore upward, spending a whole morning turning the castle upside down, only to despairingly discover—even if there were empty classrooms, they had long been occupied by upperclassmen, especially the fifth, sixth, and seventh-year students. They had occupancy permits issued by Prefects or staff, allowing them to use empty classrooms for long periods.
In comparison, Soren and Hermione, two first-year students, couldn't get such permits at all.
Most of the time, they didn't even need to knock; the paintings hanging nearby would tell them that the classroom was occupied by upperclassmen, telling the first-year little beans not to run around or cause trouble.
They wandered until noon before dragging their weary feet back to the Great Hall to eat. This time, the Gryffindorfirst-years appeared, casting intense attention on Soren far beyond what it had been before, vaguely tinged with hostility. Especially the boys—even Harry and Ron hesitated and didn't dare to come over.
Soren could fully understand this, but he was also helpless, only able to say that false rumors really do harm people...
After lunch, at Soren's suggestion, the two came to the large lawn by the lake again to study the main castle map they had perfected throughout the morning.
Except for the underground area which was blank, the first to eighth floors all had detailed route maps, marking the approximate locations of all classrooms. What was frustrating was that these discovered classrooms were, without exception, marked as "occupied."
In such a huge Hogwarts Castle, they couldn't find a single empty classroom or room, which deeply hurt the young hearts of the two first-year students.
But thinking about it, it was normal; there were too many students at Hogwarts, probably seven or eight hundred if not a thousand. When the two were exploring the castle, they ran into people wherever they went; just the Ravenclaw ghost, The Grey Lady, they had run into several times.
Soren still remembered the unusual performance of this ghost lady after the Sorting Ceremony and cautiously led Hermione to avoid her.
At this moment, after looking at the map again, Soren let out a dying moan and fell backward, lying on the soft lawn. Hermione hesitated for a moment, then followed his example and leaned back, but her posture was more reserved than his.
The lawn in the afternoon was warmed by the sun, with a faint, elegant scent of grass; lying on it was simply more comfortable than the bed in the dormitory.
The two lay side by side on the lawn, gazing at the blue, clear sky and the leisurely white clouds, sighing together.
"If it really doesn't work, why don't we try our luck at that Abandoned Bathroom tomorrow?" Soren said with a helpless tone, his true purpose finally revealed.
Hermione was out of ideas now. After struggling for a moment, she chose to comply with him: "That's fine. I'll go back tonight and ask the senior student to inquire about that ghost. Let's see if I can discuss it with her tomorrow so we can borrow the bathroom after class."
"Hmm..."
Soren responded softly, making a "V" victory sign in his heart.
For his first time entering Myrtle's bathroom, he planned to bring Hermione along as cover. With her there, it wouldn't seem so abrupt for him, a boy, to enter a girls' bathroom... right?
He still felt like something was off, but for the sake of the Chamber of Secrets of Slytherin, he had to take this risk.
After lying there for a while longer, Hermione asked again: "Then what are we doing this afternoon? Should we search carefully again, or go to the Library to study?"
"We'll search for another morning tomorrow. If we can't find a suitable place, we'll go to the Abandoned Bathroom. We can't waste all our precious study time on this."
Soren decided firmly, "As for now, come with me to a place; I want to introduce you to a new friend!"
Soren Reed and the Magic Library: Chapter 76 - Longing Carried by Letter Paper
Not long after, on the highlands on the west side of the main castle.
Soren curled his thumb and index finger into a ring, placed it in front of his mouth, and blew a loud whistle.
This was something he had specifically learned after getting an owl, specifically for calling his pet.
"Whew! Whew! Whew!"
Three short, powerful whistles, meaning—come here/return.
Hermione looked curiously in the direction he was facing. There was a separate stone tower there that she hadn't visited yet, and she didn't know what place it was.
Soon, this confusion was resolved—
After the whistle spread, within a few seconds, a very large tawny owl flew out from the open window.
After circling twice in the air, it let out a loud "Coo—" as if responding, and then dived towards Soren.
As the distance closed, Hermione's assessment of it was upgraded from "very large" to "super large"!
A super big owl!
Right before her eyes, the beautiful big owl flapped its wings to slow down, landed on the arm Soren had extended, and tilted its head to look over.
"Wow—!"
Seeing its magnificent beauty up close, especially the handsome ear tufts protruding from the sides of its head, Hermione made a cute exclamation like all young girls.
Soren's lips curled up. He rubbed Miss Brigia's head with his palm and said to Hermione: "This is my owl messenger—Miss Brigia. Do you want to touch her? She has a very good temper; you don't need to be afraid."
"Really? Let me try!"
Hermione took the bait, leaned over to stroke the big owl; her technique looked like it had been practiced on cats.
Brigitta maintained her consistent good temper, highly tolerant of the human cub.
After they got familiar with each other, Soren simply put the owl into Hermione's arms and told her considerately: "Don't let Brigitta's size fool you; it's actually all feathers. Her weight is about the same as a cat's."
After Hermione excitedly hugged it, she found it was indeed true; it wasn't heavy at all, and she quickly unlocked a new hobby—huffing owls just like huffing cats.
Seeing how happy she was, Soren knew he had done the right thing again.
In the field of diplomacy, there is "wife diplomacy," and his improved version of "owl diplomacy" was also very effective, especially infallible when it came to young girls.
This owl was definitely worth buying!
They played with the owl here for nearly an hour before Soren took paper, a pen, and an envelope out of his schoolbag and handed one set to Hermione: "Do you want to write a letter to your family? I plan to let Brigitta make a trip for me. Since your home is also in London, we might as well send them together."
"Eh... is that okay?" Hermione looked a bit moved. "I was planning to write it tomorrow night and have the public owl send it on Monday—you know, they are considered school staff, so they don't work on weekends."
Soren nodded with a smile: "This is the benefit of having an owl pet; you can let it help deliver letters every day."
Miss Messenger raised her head alertly and pecked him lightly in protest.
Soren quickly changed his tune: "Of course, I only have her run a trip on weekends to bring letters to Headmistress Brent and my friends at the Orphanage."
"Then... I'll write one too. I think it's necessary to report to my parents that I'm safe, so they don't worry."
Hermione sat side by side with him on the lawn, using her thick textbook to pad the letter paper, writing while she thought.
On the other side, Soren was doing the same, and he had to write two letters.
The letter to Headmistress Brent was relatively concise, simply explaining that everything was fine at school and asking her not to worry; that was all.
The letter to Ella had to be written with some thought—
That goodbye kiss before leaving had confirmed their intimate relationship, and he had to maintain this relationship as much as possible. He also had to be careful not to reveal too much information about the Wizarding World, to avoid some people actually opening and checking his correspondence.
Since that was the case, he would use a cheerful writing style to tell her about interesting things at school, as well as the jokes created by some little wizards who lacked common sense.
He wrote a full page of A4 paper in one go and highlighted at the end:
[Remember to supervise the other children's studies, and by the way, have them help find some very common plants—daisies, ginger, nettles, lavender, roses, and the thorns on rose stems. They need to be fresh, just a little of each will do. Remember to pull the daisies out with their roots. Pack all the materials and send them with the letter.]
After having contact with the herbs in the greenhouse, Soren vaguely sensed that these Wizarding World plants were somewhat different from the Muggle World plants with the same names, but how big the specific difference was would require an actual comparison.
He hoped now that the plants from the Muggle Worldcould also be used as Potion Class materials, even if they were just inferior substitutes; that would drastically reduce the difficulty of obtaining materials.
But he knew this possibility was unlikely; otherwise, some Potion Class materials would have dropped to cabbage prices long ago.
About half an hour later, both of them had prepared their letters and stuffed them into Brigitta's mail pouch.
After receiving the job, Miss Messenger circled around the two of them a few times, left a series of pleasant "coos," and spread her wings to fly towards the clear sky.
The two waved goodbye to her, then put away their playfulness and headed to the Library, returning to their familiar learning rhythm.
As students, the most important thing is learning.
If one could also gain joy and fun from learning, then they were undoubtedly top-tier straight-A students, and it just so happened that both Soren and Hermione were such people.
Madam Pince circled around them a few times and left with satisfaction.
—It was worth her specifically putting some miscellaneous items on this table to avoid the weekend crowd and keep the spot for the two little ones.
While Soren was studying hard, someone in the Brent Orphanage was thinking of him.
In the slightly simple but spotless single room, Ella, in a white dress, slender and gentle, was sitting on the chair he had sat on, using the desk he had used, writing him a letter.
Under the afternoon's slanting sun, she appeared so beautiful and flawless. A waterfall of soft, golden long hair slid down her shoulders, and a few stray hairs stuck mischievously to her cheek, adding a touch of liveliness.
She held a fountain pen and was focusing on writing on the letter paper. The tip of the pen touched the paper, rustling. Every once in a while, she would pause for a moment, interrupted by the memories surging in her mind, then wake up and continue writing this page of lovesickness.
During the first two days after Soren left, she had almost cried herself to death. She couldn't summon the energy to do anything and was in a daze.
Later, it was only by staying in this room that had his shadow and scent as soon as school was over that Ella felt a little better.
And now, it had been the seventh day since Soren left. The sadness in her heart had eased slightly, all transformed into longing, lingering in her heart.
On the desk, the letters written intermittently over these seven days had already filled several pages, but she was always unwilling to stop writing, wanting to write something more, not letting this letter end.
But the day agreed upon to exchange letters was within these next two days, and she had to finish writing quickly.
With her thoughts turning this way, she picked up her pen again to fill this page of letter paper and dotted a shallow period at the end of the page.
After waiting for the ink to dry, she stacked all the letter papers in order, labeled them with page numbers, stuffed them into a thick envelope she had prepared long ago, and sealed it carefully.
After finishing, Ella stretched a small, lazy stretch and looked out the window.
Sometimes she would imagine, when Soren sat here, would he also look out the window like this and let his mind go blank? What would he be thinking about then?
Would he be missing her just like she was missing him?
And was that kiss at the beginning too rash, appearing not reserved enough?
A young girl's feelings are always so sentimental and prone to change.
Not long after, the sentimentality was replaced by the romance in her imagination—
Now, she was staying in Soren's room, sitting in his favorite spot. Was the breeze blowing on her face the same breeze that had blown over Soren's cheeks? And was what they saw in their eyes the same scenery...
Soren Reed and the Magic Library: Chapter 77 - The Chamber of Secrets of Slytherin—Your heir is here!
Sunday.
Gryffindor table.
Soren appeared punctually in the corner as usual, but he didn't find Hermione.
He poured himself a cup of breakfast black tea and waited for her while drinking.
About a quarter of an hour later, Hermione finally arrived late. As soon as she sat down next to Soren, she let out a faint sigh.
Soren turned to look at her, saw the faint sorrow surrounding her, and habitually handed over a cup of hot milk: "What's wrong with you? Is there something unhappy?"
Hermione took the milk, took a sip, and told him the bad news: "I can't explore the castle with you today. I probably won't be able to go to the Library until tonight..."
"So... what happened?"
"The senior students are very angry. They are going to hold a guidance meeting for the first-years."
"The reason?"
"In the week since school started, our freshmen's contribution to the House Cup is negative..." Hermionecovered her face.
Soren almost laughed out loud and patted her shoulder sympathetically: "Is it really that serious? I remember you added a lot of points too."
"Who says it isn't!"
Hermione gritted her teeth, her sorrow replaced by annoyance. "I've already worked very hard, but the boys are still playful and naughty, deducting a point or two from the House every now and then. After the two Potion Classlessons on Friday, it went straight into negative points!
Percy and that whatever Quidditch captain are furious. Last night in the common room, they talked to each of the freshmen, saying they would hold a meeting for all freshmen today to teach them experience and let them deduct fewer points from the House. I heard from them that they have to hold meetings all morning and afternoon, and all freshmen must participate..."
Obviously, even the female Prefect wouldn't save them this time.
Soren hadn't figured out how to comfort her when he suddenly felt an angry gaze fixed on him.
He turned to look—it was Percy.
Oh, that's fine. The Gryffindor freshmen are disappointing, so it's normal for him, this Prefect, to be in a bad mood.
It's just that this habit of venting anger on others isn't very good.
The points were deducted by Snape; if he has the ability, he should go show his teeth to him. What does it have to do with a weak, helpless, and pitiful little freshman like himself?
Ignore him, just eat and drink, and feed Hermione by the way.
After eating, Hermione returned to the Gryffindor common room with an annoyed look.
Although he was missing a little partner, Soren's plan remained unchanged—go around the castle a few more times, leave enough human witnesses and evidence, and then enter the Abandoned Bathroom under the guise of "having no other choice."
The Chamber of Secrets of Slytherin—Your heir is here!
GOGOGO—
Soren acted again, searching carefully from the first floor, deliberately walking past those portraits to make them his witnesses.
When he reached the second floor, he wandered to the door of the Abandoned Bathroom again, lingering for a long time, completing the act of passing by three times without entering.
In the following three hours, he searched seriously for secret passages and vacant rooms, but still found nothing.
Until 10:30 in the morning, the third exploration trip was declared over.
Soren walked through the castle with heavy steps, looking somewhat anxious, half acting and half genuine.
Just as he was thinking about whether he should find a more "authoritative" witness to endorse him, a suitable candidate happened to walk towards him.
It was a terrifying-looking male ghost, wearing a robe covered in silver bloodstains, wearing shackles, opening a pair of large, hollow eyes, walking in the narrow corridor on the sixth floor.
Soren noticed that several passing students sped up and turned into the adjacent passage to avoid him.
But Soren didn't intend to avoid him; instead, he greeted him.
Because this was the resident ghost of Slytherin—The Bloody Baron.
He was among the first batch of students after Hogwartswas founded. At that time, the four founders were still there. The Bloody Baron was sorted into Slytherin and studied magic under Salazar himself for seven years.
Chapter 51
A true old-timer with impeccable, pure credentials!
Unfortunately, this ghost's past was full of things to complain about, and his personality was gloomy and irascible. Even though he often appeared in the Slytherin Common Room, few students could strike up a conversation with him.
Soren wasn't familiar with him either, but as a Slytherinfirst-year, speaking a few words to his house ghost was no problem.
"Hello, Mr. Baron."
Hearing his greeting, the Baron, whose eyes were wandering around as if looking for something, was forced to slow down his pace.
After clearly seeing the robes Soren was wearing, he reluctantly stopped: "First-year, is there something you need?"
Soren gave his pre-prepared excuse: "Mr. Baron, I heard that you have been at Hogwarts for many years. Could you tell me if there are any empty classrooms or rooms? I want to find a quiet, undisturbed place to practice spells."
The Baron looked very impatient and replied perfunctorily, "No. Practicing spells isn't as safe as you think. First-years had better not try it without supervision. Besides, you'd better be looking for such a place truly to study, and not to break school rules—"
He looked at Soren's face, his lips twitching slightly. "Ah... I remember you, the little fellow who was entangled with a Gryffindor girl on the first day of school. I advise you not to mess around; school is a place for learning!"
Hearing this, the perfect smile on Soren's face almost cracked.
Why is everyone, human or ghost, spreading rumors about him!?
What kind of image does he even have in other people's eyes!?
Soren's breathing quickened with anger. Just as he was about to defend himself, he saw The Bloody Baron's expression change. As if he had seen something, the ghost quickly set off, passing right through him.
The moment the ghost passed through him, Soren felt a wave of intense coldness, as if he had jumped naked into icy water.
Fortunately, this discomfort quickly faded as the ghost left, causing no harm to his body.
Still, that kind of discomfort was hard to like. Soren frowned and looked back, only to see The Bloody Baronhurrying toward a distant corner. He had no idea what the ghost had just seen.
With a shift in his thoughts, Soren put the matter out of his mind. There were plenty of strange things in Hogwarts; there was no need to look too deeply into everything.
The most important thing now was the Chamber of Secrets!
He had already "registered" his intent with The Bloody Baron, and with "witnesses" all over the castle, the image of a first-year in desperate need of a secret training ground was firmly established in everyone's minds. It was time to take the next step.
This time, he deliberately wore an expression of conflict and anxiety on his face, heading straight for the Abandoned Bathroom. Every time he went down a floor, he would pause for a moment, pretending to hesitate.
In this way, utilizing his full acting skills, he finally arrived before that door once again.
Finally—
Soren closed his eyes, took a few steps forward, and raised his hand to knock on the bathroom door.
"Knock, knock, knock—"
The faint, barely audible crying inside suddenly stopped, and silence returned once more to the corridor in this corner of the floor.
Soren opened his eyes. After waiting a few seconds and seeing that Myrtle hadn't come out, he knocked a second time.
"Knock, knock, knock—"
It was dead quiet inside.
Well...
Even Liu Bei had to make three visits to the thatched cottage to recruit Zhuge Liang; he would follow the example of the ancient sages just this once.
Soren complained inwardly and knocked for the third time.
"Knock, knock—"
The third knock didn't sound, because his knuckles felt a sudden chill, sinking into the body of a ghost who was passing through the door.
No, phrasing it like that was easy to misunderstand. To be precise, he had pressed into the female ghost's forehead.
Such an awkward scene left both the boy and the ghost stunned.
After a split-second pause, a piercing shriek echoed through the secluded corridor—
"Aaaaaaargh—!"
Soren Reed and the Magic Library: Chapter 78 - The Bathroom Really Is Haunted, and the Entrance to the Chamber of Secrets Seems to Be Moving!?
"Aaaaaaargh—!"
In the silent corridor, the female ghost's sudden burst of screaming was comparable to a banshee's wail.
Soren took the full brunt of her ultimate attack right to his face. Caught completely off guard, the sonic blast left him stunned and disoriented, nearly making him scream along with her.
Fortunately, he had an iron will, which allowed him to maintain his composure.
First covering his poor ears with both hands, he tried to communicate amicably, only to see the gloomy-faced Myrtle filled with terror. Screaming as if she had seen a ghost, she backed away and vanished back through the door in an instant.
Following that, the screaming quickly faded into the distance with a slight echo, as if she had fled to another floor.
Myrtle... ran away...
It felt as though she had been frightened away. That expression of absolute terror and her screaming didn't seem faked.
The question was... why?
For a ghost to flee in panic from a living person—was he really that terrifying?
Composing himself, Soren didn't rush to check his appearance. Instead, he quickly took two steps back, scanning the corridor nervously like a thief, paying close attention to the corners, worried that someone might be drawn here by the screaming.
After holding his breath and observing for a dozen seconds, there was no movement around him, and he quietly breathed a sigh of relief.
It had to be said that Corvinus Gaunt, who had modified the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets and used the girls' bathroom sink as a cover, really knew how to choose a location.
The bathroom where the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets was located sat in the most secluded corner of the second floor, far from all main corridors and classrooms.
Unless someone was coming here on purpose, very few people ever passed by.
Ever since 'Myrtle' began haunting it fifty years ago, crying, throwing tantrums, and splashing water everywhere, this place had become an entirely neglected corner.
Even if she had just screamed loudly again, it would only scare the students away rather than draw them closer.
Realizing this, Soren felt deeply relieved.
With no one to disturb him, his actions could continue.
Returning to the door, he hesitated for a moment and, out of politeness, knocked gently three times.
Myrtle had long since fled, so naturally, there was no response from inside.
Soren hesitated no longer. He slowly pushed open the unlocked door, slipped inside, and immediately shut the door tight behind him, his movements gentle and careful to avoid making any noise.
After all, this was a girls' bathroom. If anyone saw him coming in and out of here, heaven knew what kind of gossip would start spreading...
Having shut the door, he confirmed once more that there was no movement around.
Soren turned around to inspect this Abandoned Bathroom, which ranked among 'Hogwarts' Top Ten Popular Attractions'.
Upon entering, there was a walkway wide enough for two people to walk side by side, flanked by rows of cubicles. Since it hadn't been used for years, there were no unpleasant odors, only a faint dampness in the air.
A dozen meters ahead lay a large, octagonal-prism-style sink basin that could accommodate multiple people at once, designed with a retro aesthetic.
Further away was a giant floor-to-ceiling window that stretched all the way to the ceiling.
From where Soren stood, he couldn't see the entire bathroom, but based on what was visible, he could tell the space was quite large—more than enough to establish a secret base.
Not only could he practice spells here, but he could also brew potions in the cubicles, just like Hermione did in the original story.
And all he needed to do was deal with Myrtle.
Well...
That was what he had originally thought, but now that Myrtle had been scared away by him, it was truly unexpected.
Was he really that frightening?
Harboring this doubt, Soren walked to the sink directly opposite the door and looked into the bathroom mirror.
Reflected in the mirror, which showed him from the waist up, was a handsome boy with black hair and dark eyes. He wore school robes in Slytherin colors, carried a small satchel, and had a calm, elegant expression, with a hint of a smile always playing at the corners of his mouth.
"—Doesn't he look quite handsome!"
Precisely because he looked so good, Soren sometimes felt a bit narcissistic when looking in the mirror. No matter how he thought about it, he shouldn't be scary...
Soren stepped closer to the mirror, but his footsteps suddenly halted as a bold guess popped into his mind.
It was known that Myrtle had died at the hands of Lord Voldemort. While she was hiding in the secluded bathroom crying, she happened to be there when Lord Voldemort came to release the Basilisk.
Hearing a boy's voice in the girls' bathroom, Myrtle had opened her stall door to tell him to leave, and then... came face-to-face with the Basilisk. Her final memory before death was those glowing yellow snake eyes.
A point of suspicion here was that, since she had opened the stall door, was it possible she caught a fleeting glimpse of Lord Voldemort, who was in his sixth year at the time?
Even if she couldn't remember the details, or if the extreme terror of her moment of death had interfered with that memory, a general impression of Lord Voldemort might still linger in her subconscious.
Looking at himself in the mirror again—
Black hair, dark eyes, handsome features, outstanding temperament, and wearing Slytherin robes... except for the age difference, he indeed shared many similarities with the Lord Voldemort of back then.
Perhaps it was this "similarity" that triggered Myrtle's trauma, evoking the uncanny valley effect...
Soren wasn't sure if his guess was correct; the truth could probably only be confirmed by asking Myrtle herself.
He only hoped she wouldn't scream and flee every time she saw him in the future. That would be far too embarrassing.
But... maybe it wasn't entirely a bad thing?
Looking around the spacious, empty bathroom once more, the smile on Soren's face became more genuine.
A secret base!
Not to mention kids, even an adult like him loved the idea. Who wouldn't want a private space of their very own?
He remembered that the tap for the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets was—
Wait!
Just in case, he should be more cautious.
Soren turned to check every single cubicle to ensure Myrtlewasn't hiding inside spying. Then he walked back to the entrance door, tapped the lock three times with his wand, and muttered, "Colloportus—"
The lock clicked shut. Under the influence of the spell, it would be difficult to open by conventional means.
This was a simple locking spell recorded in 'The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1'. It wasn't as professional as an anti-unlocking charm, but it was enough to delay someone and serve as an early warning.
Having locked the door and confirmed he was the only one in this enclosed space,
Soren finally made up his mind. He walked to the sink against the eastern wall, bent down, and looked at the side of the copper tap. On the innermost part, a tiny silver serpent was carved, looking exactly like the one on the Slytherin crest!
"Ah—ah!"
His suddenly racing heartbeat made him tremble with excitement. A short, involuntary groan escaped his throat, but he quickly suppressed it.
The entrance to the Chamber of Secrets was right in front of him. As long as he could find a way to open it, he could go down and inherit Salazar Slytherin's legacy. He just didn't know if Lord Voldemort, the last one to enter, had completely cleaned the place out. He hoped he wouldn't be that unlucky...
Excitedly, Soren reached out his right hand and gently touched the mark with his fingertips.
It felt ice-cold to the touch, with a faint protrusion, no different from an ordinary relief. No wonder no one had ever discovered it.
He fumbled around for a moment. Seeing no movement, he tried turning the handle, but the tap didn't react at all, and naturally, no water came out.
According to Myrtle, this tap had been broken from the very beginning, and no one had ever repaired it.
Soren once again marveled at Corvinus Gaunt's clever design, which minimized the risk of the Chamber of Secrets' entrance being exposed.
"Too bad I don't know Parseltongue yet... Wait, I don't even have Salazar's bloodline, how am I supposed to learn Parseltongue?"
In the midst of his confusion, Soren's expression suddenly froze, and his pupils contracted sharply.
What the hell...?
Why did he feel like this tap was moving?
An illusion?
It had to be an illusion, right!?
Soren Reed and the Magic Library: Chapter 79 - Soren: The Door to the Chamber of Secrets Opened on Its Own, Wanting Me to Go In!?
Soren blinked hard, staring intently at the tap, but he still felt like it was moving.
Yes—'it seemed to be moving.'
The speed was incredibly slow. If he hadn't been staring unblinkingly, he might have missed it entirely.
What was going on?
This was the tap that controlled the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets!
Chapter 52
Soren was panicking inside as he abruptly turned his head to scan the bathroom.
There's no one here...
Damn it! Could it be an illusion trap set by Lord Voldemort? When did...
No, that's not right. If there really was such a setup, the school would have definitely found it when they inspected the scene after Myrtle died.
After hesitating for a long time, Soren steeled his resolve and reached out again, gently holding the side of the tap.
He channeled another wisp of magic into his hand to enhance his perception.
A few seconds later, the truth was revealed—
The copper tap was indeed moving. It wasn't the handle, but the entire tap along with the pipe behind it rotating clockwise at an extremely slow speed.
It was like a key inserted into a keyhole, turning to unlock a door.
Although it was ridiculously slow, if it kept turning like this, the "door" would surely be fully opened in a few hours.
Yes—the door to the Chamber of Secrets!
This is bad.
Did the Chamber of Secrets want him to enter?
Right now?
He had only been at school for a week. Was there really a need to rush so much...
Soren had absolutely no confidence. With his current repertoire of spells, if Lord Voldemort had left any magical traps inside after his last visit, going down there would be suicide.
With Voldemort's dark and sinister personality, the probability of him doing such a thing was 1000%.
No way...
The rewards were unknown, and the risk was sky-high. He had to be fully prepared before going on an adventure.
But the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets kept turning. What if someone else discovered it?
Did he accidentally trigger some switch just now?
Thinking this, Soren reached out with his free left hand to touch the snake engraving again, hoping to close the door.
The result... was absolutely nothing.
He tried to twist the tap by force... but it wouldn't budge.
Well, this is awkward...
Soren felt like he was suffocating. He hesitated and took two steps back, wanting to see if anything else had changed. He remembered from the movies that the entire large sink unit would move, and the stone pillars above would also slide aside to clear a path for the Basilisk.
To his surprise, this movement triggered another change.
When he was about half a meter away from the sink, the tap he was staring at suddenly stopped rotating. As he took another two steps back, the tap started moving again—in the opposite direction, and very quickly, returning to its original position in the blink of an eye!
It was as if—
Once he moved away from the entrance area, the door to the Chamber of Secrets closed automatically!
"I get it!" Soren realized suddenly. "I've become the key to the door!?"
Salazar Slytherin's Chamber of Secrets opens for the Heir of Slytherin. It makes perfect sense!
What an unexpected design. He didn't even need Parseltongue to open the Chamber of Secrets now, and as long as he didn't get close to this sink, he wouldn't trigger the mechanism.
Excellent!
It seemed he wouldn't have to wait until his second year to have a chance at claiming Slytherin's heritage.
The problem now was that he had to find a way to deal with the traps Lord Voldemort might have left behind. Lord Voldemort had been in his sixth year back then, far from his peak, but with his talent and ability, he was at least at the level of an outstanding seventh-year graduate, if not stronger.
He could not afford to be careless...
Oh right, and the Basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets.
If the statue of Slytherin also had a special mechanism that opened its mouth as soon as he approached, he would come face-to-face with the Basilisk inside.
Although logically, the guardian of the Chamber of Secretsleft by Salazar himself shouldn't harm the heir, a thousand years had passed. Who could say for sure?
If there was even a slight slip-up and he made eye contact with the Basilisk, he would definitely die...
When that time came, Hogwarts would have one more ghost, named "Moaning Soren Reed."
That picture was too beautiful to contemplate.
Soren retreated further and further until his back pressed against the wall. Only then did he slightly loosen his collar, letting the cool air cool his body down.
Suddenly realizing he could open the Chamber of Secretsfelt like holding a winning ticket for a million-dollar lottery, except the prize was hundreds of millions of pounds!
The only problem before him was that the path to claim his prize was fraught with danger. He had to be extremely cautious.
After contemplating for a long time, he took out a pen and paper and began to write—
[Offensive Spells: Several, the more the better.]
[Defensive Spells: Protego, Protego Totalum, Impedimenta.]
[Utility Spells: Revelio, Impervius, Aguamenti, Super-Sensory Charm, Finite Incantatem.]
[Special Spells: Obscuring Spell, Conjunctivitis Curse, Self-created Flash Spell—specifically for the Basilisk.]
[Magical Items: Restorative Potions, Auxiliary Potions.]
[Required Knowledge: Countering magical traps, countering curses.]
[Special Arrangement: An assistant. If I am trapped in the Chamber of Secrets for a long time and my life is in danger, the assistant can notify Dumbledore to rescue me—preferably not to be used, as it would expose the Chamber of Secrets.]
After drawing up the list, Soren read through it carefully several times. He felt this was the bare minimum, roughly the level of an outstanding fifth-year student.
With this level of proficiency, it should be enough to deal with the traps set by the teenage version of Lord Voldemort.
For ordinary students, completing the contents of this list would take until at least their fourth year or higher. But Soren was no ordinary student. As long as he could find the relevant knowledge, he was confident he could complete his preparations for the adventure within his first school year, or even his first term.
It would be even faster if he had a private tutor. There were quite a few advanced spells here, and the difficulty of learning them was definitely not low.
Madam Pince would likely not allow him to borrow such advanced books, so he would have to memorize the knowledge in the Library. This wasn't difficult, but he still had to ensure his foundation was solid to avoid losing the forest for the trees.
Only a week into the school term, and his task list was already so heavy. The pressure was immense.
"Where there's a will, there's a way. Keep it up, self..."
After memorizing the list, Soren tore out the page and used a simple fire trick to burn it to ashes.
Then, he placed his schoolbag on the bench by the window, walked around the bathroom, used a Scouring Charm to clean up all the water stains, and cleared a large open space.
Four meters wide and ten meters deep—it was more than enough to serve as a spell practice ground.
Tomorrow morning, he could bring Hermione over to see if she could handle Myrtle. They were both girls, so it should be easier for them to talk.
As for today...
He might as well try [Spell Fine-tuning] to modify the most basic spell—Lumos. This was the first spell all first-years learned in Charms Class class. Professor Flitwickhad taught everyone in just ten minutes, and it seemed more like a way to build confidence in the new students.
Soren wasn't sure if the combination of Obscuring Spelland the Conjunctivitis Curse would be effective against the Basilisk, so he planned to try a different approach. Considering that the Basilisk had lived in the underground Chamber of Secrets since birth and had probably rarely been to the surface, its environment was one of true "eternal darkness," so intense light should have some effect on it.
If he really had to face it, throwing a flashbang right at the start should buy him some time.
Besides, even if it couldn't be used against the Basilisk, it would be excellent for dealing with other wizards. Cast a Flash Spell, blind everyone in the area, and he could deal with them however he pleased!
Soren Reed and the Magic Library: Chapter 80 - First Spell Modification—Aurora Flash!
With such simple thoughts in mind, Soren began his first spell modification.
"Lumos—"
A soft white light lit up at the tip of his wand. Its durability was excellent, and it was very easy on the eyes, but the brightness was lacking. Even when he pushed his magic to the limit, it was only equivalent to a relatively bright lamp.
This level of intensity was clearly far from enough.
"Lumos Solem—"
A beam of light as dazzling as sunlight burst from the wand tip, turning into a pillar of light that struck the ceiling, illuminating every detail of the bathroom.
This intensity was much higher. Even Soren, the caster, couldn't help but squint when staring at the light source.
But that was all. If cast suddenly in a dark place, it would be enough to make unsuspecting people close their eyes, or it could be used to deal with light-sensitive magical creatures like Devil's Snare. However, to deal with a Basilisk of danger rating XXXXX (the highest danger rating, extremely dangerous), it was clearly not safe enough.
"Lumos Maxima—"
The wand tip flashed with bright light once more, but this time, the light did not disperse. Instead, it condensed into a ball of light in front of the wand tip.
With a gentle flick of Soren's wand, the ball of light flew toward the ceiling and fixed itself there, like a high-power fluorescent lamp.
Indeed, the function of this spell was to create a light source that could last for a certain period, which could be attached to the surface of an object to provide illumination for a wizard.
All three of these spells were light-producing Charms Class, with the latter two being advanced versions of the basic Lumos.
It was worth noting that the incantation roots of all three spells came from Latin.
Soren had discovered this while studying spells and had formulated some hypotheses.
This time, he would use these three spells to modify and create his own [Flash Spell].
Standing by the bathroom wall, Soren tried hard to recall the "Latin Dictionary" he had read. There were dozens of copies of this book in the Library, and he had used them as reference when studying spells.
"Lumos... originates from the Latin word 'lumen'. The meaning is very simple, just 'light'. The identical word in English represents 'lumen', a unit of luminous flux."
"But this doesn't affect the use of the spell. Lumos on its own is just the most basic 'light-producing' charm."
"Solem... means'sun' in Latin. Combined with Lumos, it becomes—light as bright as the sun. Translating it as'Sunlight Charm' or 'Bright Sun' doesn't make much of a difference."
Lumos Solem, piecing together two words related to light to create a stronger spell, felt quite like combining Runewords.
"Maxima... clearly comes from the Latin adjective 'maximus'. Both English and Latin mean the maximum amount or limit, but the actual effect is somewhat different from what one might expect. Its 'maximum' is probably reflected in the total amount of light emitted, rather than the brightness."
Lumos Maxima, the advanced light-producing charm, also relied on word combinations to achieve its enhancement.
Combining this with the Non-verbal spell techniques Soren was familiar with, he felt more and more that incantations were not a necessary condition for casting spells. They were more like a form of self-suggestion, used to help wizards guide their emotions and visualize the effect the spell should present.
Lumos is light. When this word is spoken, the wizard's subconscious thinks of light. It is like building a mental circuit in the mind; speaking the keyword triggers the corresponding memory.
And this instinct is not achieved overnight. It requires years of practice to integrate the mental circuit into instinct.
Thinking about it this way...
The trashy achievement system actually did nothing wrong in this regard. It made him practice hundreds of thousands, millions, or tens of millions of times to reinforce his memory, turning spellcasting into an instinct, thereby breaking free from the shackles of wands and incantations.
After his thoughts drifted for a moment, Soren forced them back.
Now that he had completed the deconstruction and understanding of the light-producing charm and its variants, the third step was reconstruction.
He needed a very "powerful" Latin word to combine with Lumos to form a super Flash Spell that could blind anyone.
"Words that can be combined with light to increase brightness... Let me think..."
A few hours flew by. Soren leaned against the wall, scribbling and drawing in his notebook, occasionally raising his wand to test things out.
Surprisingly, this line of thought seemed correct. Many combinations could slightly alter the effect of the light-producing charm.
For example—
"Lumos Erupto—"
He chose 'Erupto' from Latin, meaning to erupt or burst forth, emphasizing a violent outpouring outward from a single point.
The effect of this modified spell was that light exploded from the wand tip like a shockwave. Its coverage and intensity were superior to Lumos Solem, but it still did not meet his requirements.
"It's still not strong enough. I need stronger light, like the instantaneous burst of light when a flashbang suddenly explodes in front of your eyes in the pitch-dark night, an aggressive super-bright light..."
"Where can I find such light?"
"Humans can never imagine things outside their cognition. I need an anchor, something I've seen that can emit super-bright light, or... a natural phenomenon?"
Soren muttered to himself. Suddenly, a flash of inspiration hit him, and he thought of something.
He quickly walked to the floor-to-ceiling window, found a window that could be opened, and yanked it open.
Fresh air rushed in cheerfully, carrying with it the very thing he was looking for—the damp moisture unique to the aftermath of rain.
As someone who stayed up late every day, Soren had stayed up until three in the morning on Friday night. He knew it had rained during the night, and naturally, he had seen the lightning that illuminated the dark night, which was clearly visible even at the bottom of the lake!
That's it!
Lightning! Thunder! The ultimate flash of light bursting forth in an instant!!
The lightning that had illuminated the bottom of the lake the night before seemed to strike into Soren's mind. His thoughts surged like an electric current, and in an instant, he recalled the corresponding word in Latin—Fulgur—lightning, flash, thunderbolt!
Chapter 53
This was it, there was no mistake!
He turned around, repeatedly constructing the mental image of lightning tearing through the dark night and thunder illuminating the world. He raised his wand and thrust it forward with all his might—
"Lumos Fulgur (Aurora Flash)—"
Fueled by intense emotion, the spell's power surged, allowing him to successfully cast it on his very first attempt!
"Crack—!"
Though it was merely a Flash Spell, it erupted with the sharp crack of sudden thunder.
Surging magic condensed at the tip of his wand, and the moment it reached its peak, it exploded all at once.
In his field of vision, a blinding white light exploded.
Soren Reed bore the brunt of it. His vision immediately turned stark white, instantly blinding him; he could only feel his eyeballs trembling slightly beneath his eyelids.
The entire Abandoned Bathroom was filled with light, as shadows and darkness fled screaming.
Although it only lasted for an instant, it took Soren Reed a full half-minute or so to recover his sight.
"Aha! I did it!"
Rubbing his eyes, he reminded himself that next time he used this move, he must remember to close his eyes beforehand; the Flash Spell didn't distinguish between friend and foe...
In any case, he had achieved a perfect score on his very first spell modification. Truly worth celebrating!
Soren Reed and the Magic Library: Chapter 81 - There is a Kind of Hatred Called "Other People's Children."
The excitement lasted for quite a while.
Until it crossed a certain tipping point, and the poles instantly reversed.
The fatigue from hours of high-intensity mental activity, hundreds of spellcasting practices, and intense emotional fluctuations rushed in all at once, making Soren Reed relive the discomfort of mental exhaustion.
—Fortunately, he had anticipated this.
Shaking his head to clear it, he walked over to the bench, pulled a large handful of jellybeans he had grabbed that morning from his bag, and cast a "Dopamine Happiness Charm" on himself.
After quickly replenishing his sugar and nutrients, he moved to a normal sink and repeatedly splashed cold water on his face to dispel the grogginess in his head.
Once he had recovered somewhat, Soren Reed stood yet again right in front of that special copper tap, staring at the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets from half a meter away.
After testing, he knew this was the absolute limit of a safe distance. Any closer, and the mechanism for the Chamber of Secrets entrance would be activated.
A moment later, he looked down at his feet, as if seeing an invisible boundary line keeping him on this side.
Yes, he had found the entrance to the Chamber of Secretsand even obtained an extra ticket in, but he couldn't go inside to look for treasure anytime soon.
Not only that, but he couldn't even use this secret training ground for long periods, especially on weekends, which were high-risk times and best avoided.
All of this was because—
Lord Voldemort's own remnant soul was attached to Quirrell, who also held the special status of a "teacher."
Whether Lord Voldemort suddenly felt like visiting the Chamber of Secrets on a whim, or heard about Soren's whereabouts and grew suspicious, it could trigger a horror story far more terrifying than "Quirrell turning his back to you"—Lord Voldemort trapping you inside the Abandoned Bathroom.
If that really happened, Soren Reed suspected that, at the very least, he would be hit with a "Legilimency + Obliviate" combo, and perhaps even a free "Imperio" and "Crucio," turning his life straight into a BAD END.
And that was assuming Lord Voldemort would choose to endure it for the sake of the Philosopher's Stone, not daring to alert Dumbledore.
Otherwise, it was highly likely Soren Reed would take an Avada Kedavra straight to the face...
But with Voldemort's brain, which was barely different from a severe psychotic after seven splits, he might get overstimulated and just blow up on him directly.
Soren Reed rubbed his chin in deep thought, drawing several preliminary conclusions—
1. Minimize the number of times the Chamber of Secrets is opened. Do not open it unless absolutely necessary, to avoid leaving traces and raising Lord Voldemort's suspicions.
2. If there are magical traps inside the Chamber of Secrets, prioritize evading them. Try not to disturb the original layout, otherwise Voldemort might easily discover that someone has broken in.
3. Avoid using the Abandoned Bathroom on weekends. It is best to use it when Quirrell is busy teaching classes and cannot get away.
4. The third restriction is too limiting. He must find a way to monitor Quirrell's movements in real-time. The marauders map might be an option, but how to get it from the Weasley Twins is a problem. He couldn't limit himself to just this; he had to think of more ways.
5. Myrtle is a highly valuable target. Her status as a ghost makes her an excellent scout, and she has long occupied the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets, making her hard to avoid. However, he currently has no clue how to get on her good side.
6. Get stronger, stronger, and stronger! If only he could face the half-dead Voldemort head-on, he wouldn't have to be so passive and afraid of everything! Damn it—
7. Go eat immediately. He had consumed too much physical energy, and the body is the foundation of any revolution!
Learning from Voldemort and striving to make "seven," the most magically powerful number, Soren Reed casually turned on a tap, splashing water everywhere to create the illusion that no one had been there.
Afterwards, he carefully cleaned up all traces of his presence and left the tempting Abandoned Bathroom.
Lunchtime, Great Hall.
The top-student duo reunited once again.
Soren Reed told Hermione some good news—he had found a secret training ground and would take her to see it tomorrow morning.
Hermione returned the favor with some bad news—he had become famous in Gryffindor once again. Whenever Percylectured the first-years, he would always use Soren as an example, talking about how many points he had earned for Slytherin and how outstandingly he had performed.
On the surface, it sounded like praise, but on second thought, wasn't this just painting a target on his back? "Other people's children" were always the most detested!
Soren Reed glanced sideways at the long table. Sure enough, many little lions were stealing glances at him, their eyes filled with resentment...
Unbelievable. How could Percy be so wicked, actually using him to trigger the little lions' rebellious phase to boost house cohesion?
"Will you be alright like this?" Soren Reed subtly warned. "You won't be isolated by the others for hanging around too closely with me, will you?"
Hermione glanced at him, her expression slightly helpless.
She really wanted to tell Soren Reed not to worry about such things—because it had already happened and was still ongoing, so worrying now was truly a bit too late.
But she had no intention of changing. Right was right, and wrong was wrong. Neither she nor Soren Reed had done anything wrong; they were just studying hard together. What was there to change!
"Don't worry, my relationship with the girls is fine. As for the boys, hmph—"
Hermione said indignantly, "They should mind their own business first! Most of the house points were lost by them anyway. What right do they have to criticize me, someone who actually earns points for our house!"
As an adult, Soren Reed knew well that many things could not be measured purely by right and wrong, especially when a collective was involved. But of course, he couldn't push Hermione away either; he could only keep a close eye on the situation, ready to intervene at any moment.
After finishing lunch, Hermione left in a huff. The second half of the Gryffindor first-year orientation meeting was about to start, and attendance was mandatory for all new students.
Soren Reed agreed to head to the Library first to save seats, waiting to study together once her meeting adjourned.
Shortly after, Soren Reed arrived at the Library and grabbed a dozen books in one go, including a heavy tome on Defense Against the Dark Arts, intending to cram knowledge on magical traps.
Madam Pince hovered around him a few times, but he brushed her off with his signature "good student" look.
Next, he immersed himself in the ocean of knowledge, letting time slip away rapidly.
*
At the same time—
While Soren Reed was absorbed in his studies, his name was being mentioned in different places.
Not only in the Gryffindor common room, but also in the Headmaster's office on the eighth floor of the castle.
With silver hair and a silver beard, the mere 110-year-old Dumbledore was currently fretting over this week's school work briefing.
In their first week, the young lions of Gryffindor had joyfully contributed a net negative of three points to their house—which originally was nothing to fuss about—wasn't it like this every year!
Dumbledore still remembered that when the Weasley Twins entered school, they had lost far more than this.
This was normal. Unrefined bravery was often accompanied by recklessness, and courage and spirit would drive immature children to embark on adventures out of a moment of impulse.
Generation after generation of Gryffindor lions had walked this path. Making mistakes did not matter, as long as they could correct them, they were still good children.
But things were a bit different this year; two very special first-years had arrived in this intake—
Soren Reed and the Magic Library: Chapter 82 - Dumbledore: Reed, Riddle, how could there be two people so alike in this world...
First was Harry Potter, who had been sorted into Gryffindor!
The famous Savior, the Boy Who Lived, and most importantly—the Child of Prophecy, destined to confront Lord Voldemort and potentially end him once and for all.
As the sole witness to that prophecy, Dumbledore had kept the secret all along, using it to lay his plans.
Unlike those who believed Lord Voldemort was completely dead and had begun celebrating victory and peace, he always felt that Lord Voldemort would not die so easily. During his student days, the man had browsed the most evil Dark Arts books in the Restricted Section, intending to touch upon immortality.
Returning twenty years after leaving school, the resurrected Lord Voldemort made Dumbledore feel an indescribable strangeness and alienation, convincing him that some terrible change must have occurred in the man...
Based on this, Dumbledore had never lowered his guard and intended to nurture Harry Potter well. If the Dark Lordreturned, the two in the prophecy would inevitably face a life-and-death struggle.
But Harry's foster family... was indeed somewhat inappropriate.
Eleven years of foster life had had quite a few negative impacts on his character.
To make the Child of Prophecy a true "Heroic Savior," he had originally planned to use victories and glory time and again to hone his courage and boost his self-confidence. Then, through adventures and trials, he would train his mind and talent, letting this unsharpened sword shine with brilliant light.
Yet another person entering school in the same year was disrupting his plans with an unmatched, outstanding performance.
Soren Reed—
The famous "Slytherin Champion," who had made a grand name for himself on his very first day, was a celebrity among this year's first-years, on par with Harry.
His background, sorting, and various traits all gave Dumbledore a strong sense of déjà vu, reminding him of another student he had taught many years ago.
This would normally be nothing; after dozens of generations of new students, it was normal for someone similar to appear.
But—
It just had to be the same year Harry entered school, he just had to obtain that special wand, he just had to possess such stunning talent, and... a personal charm that won over all the professors.
His fingers lightly flipped through the briefing. Listed at the very end were the professors' evaluations, which were kept private to avoid causing anxiety.
One week into the term, each professor would write a brief review of this year's first-years.
Among them, Soren's reviews were not only the longest but also filled with unanimous praise. Even Professor McGonagall and Madam Pince, famous for their strictness, had given him the highest marks.
After fifty years, Slytherin had welcomed another "perfect-score first-year."
So much like...
No, he shouldn't look at a hard-working student through colored glasses; it wasn't fair.
Dumbledore sighed softly, picking up his iced lemon juice and taking a large gulp to suppress some of his restlessness.
Looking back at the House Cup column, the Slytherin first-years had earned 47 points for their house in the first week (Soren 29, Malfoy 9, others 9), while the Gryffindor first-years had lost 3 points, making a gap of a full 50 points!
If this trend continued, by the time of the House Cup ceremony, the difference between the two sides would probably be several hundred points. Even if he wanted to award points to Harry, he couldn't possibly give that many.
If he lost in his very first year, how could Harry build his confidence?
Truly worrying...
As his gaze drifted, Dumbledore saw his phoenix and spoke to it, "Fawkes, tell me, what kind of child is that boy who has your tail feather as his wand core?"
Fawkes, who was preening his feathers, glanced at his master, let out a soft cry, and went back to preening.
"You don't know either... I suppose so, after all, that tail feather has already left you."
Dumbledore's gaze swept over the display cabinet containing important items, seeing the Sorting Hat still closed its eyes, its mouth twitching slightly as if composing next year's sorting song.
Ever since that day, the old hat had kept silent about the sorting, but sometimes, silence is also a form of expression.
The current Headmaster's gaze and words undoubtedly drew the attention of the portraits of past headmasters. Those who had graduated from Slytherin Housequestioned his words one after another, accusing him of groundlessly suspecting a newly enrolled student simply because that outstanding first-year was a Slytherin!
Dumbledore good-naturedly brushed them off, his gaze still drifting.
His cluttered thoughts caused the elderly Headmaster to lose focus slightly, only snapping out of it when the polished oak door was pushed open.
Walking in was a gloomy-faced, irritable man, dressed in black from head to toe, looking very much like a giant bat of the night.
"Severus..." Dumbledore switched to the intimate form of address used only in private. "You really ought to get some proper rest. Your face looks so tired and haggard."
Snape strode over and stopped opposite the Headmaster's desk. "If you hadn't summoned me, I could have finished processing my potion ingredients earlier and gone to rest sooner."
This was, of course, a mere excuse. The truth was that throughout this week, he had constantly been thinking of Lily—during the day and in his dreams, severely affecting his sleep. Yet he refused to take sleeping potions, because in those dreams, there was someone he never wished to wake up from.
"Sit down first, let's talk sitting down."
Dumbledore knew his personality well, so once he sat down, he went straight to the point: "I called you here because I wanted to talk to you about that high-profile figure in your house—Soren Reed."
Hearing this name, Snape was not surprised at all and simply offered his assessment: "Speaking solely of Potion Class, his talent is astonishing. He is excellent material for a future potioneer."
"You know that is not what I am asking. I want to know about his character, his true personality..."
Snape raised an eyebrow. "A true Slytherin: shrewd, ambitious, inwardly proud, and possessing a rare diligence and hard work. Is that enough?"
"..."