Harry took a deep breath, suddenly realizing that the Slytherin in front of him was somewhat different from what he and Uncle Howl had imagined.
Then, for some reason, a smile appeared on his face, and he strode inside.
This is more interesting, isn't it?
The common room was a long, low underground room, with walls and ceiling made of rough stone, and round, green-glowing lamps hung from the ceiling by chains.
Beneath the exquisitely carved mantelpiece, a fire crackled, and many items in the lounge were very delicate and looked valuable.
Inside, they seemed to be discussing something:
"I bet he can last until May."
"Don't even think about it. He used to teach Muggle Studies. How much skill can someone who teaches that kind of class have? If you ask me, he won't last past March."
"I also don't think he'll make it to March. I saw him at the Leaky Cauldron; he was stuttering when he spoke and looked like a total pushover."
"Then let's make a bet. I'll put down ten Galleons."
"I'll bet eight."
...
As Harry walked in, he keenly noticed the surrounding gazes gathering on him. The inexplicable discussion from earlier also quieted down considerably.
"Harry, what's wrong?" Leyden Hewitt walked over, putting his arm around Harry's shoulder, acting as if the two of them were very close in front of everyone.
"What were you just discussing?" Harry asked curiously.
"We were talking about Quirrell," Leyden explained. "No Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor at Hogwarts has ever lasted more than a year.
It's said that You-Know-Who wanted to be the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, but Headmaster Dumbledore refused him. Afterward, he held a grudge and cursed the position.
Since then, no one has been able to teach in this position for a year."
"So that's how it is. Thank you." Harry nodded in thanks, then said, "Sorry, I want to go tidy up my dormitory."
"Of course, I'll go with you to find your dormitory."
Harry, resigned, had no choice but to follow him to the dormitory. However, it was unfortunate that he was in the same dormitory as Draco and his two friends.
Well, whatever...
In the common room, everyone watched Leyden and Harry walk upstairs, then started talking to each other again, but this time, the topic had already changed.
"Should we try to get to know him? I think it would be good to be friends with the famous Harry Potter, and he's the only bloodline of the Potter family. That Prefect fellow has already started approaching him."
"The Prefect is nothing," someone said disdainfully. "If he didn't have no background and was obedient and useful, would Professor Snape give him Prefect?! He just wants to bask in some glory; don't mind him."
"No hurry. Potter certainly has a big name, but don't forget, there are some people here who still hold a grudge against him."
"What do they want to do?"
"How would I know? I only know that if it weren't for Potter, the parents of some of our classmates wouldn't be locked up in Azkaban."
"Let's wait and see. I heard that fellow had a conflict with the Malfoy family on the train. So it's better to wait until their conflict is over; someone will be unable to hold back."
"They must be very happy that Potter was sent to Slytherin. If he had gone to Gryffindor, they really wouldn't have found an opportunity to get revenge on Potter. Those brutes would definitely protect him to the death."
"I say, can you stop mentioning those guys?!"
...
...
Early the next morning, Harry got up early, changed into light clothes, walked out of the common room, and started running laps around the Castle.
More than ten minutes later, he saw a figure appear by the Hogwarts lawn, slowly pacing over, the hair on his face fluttering in the morning breeze.
When he drew near, Harry stopped, waved, and said, "Uncle Howl."
Howl nodded, "Just call me Jones at school. Of course, Captain works too."
Harry was stunned for a moment, then straightened up and said, "Oh, Captain! My Captain!"
"You little rascal." Howl couldn't help but laugh dryly. "How was your first night at Hogwarts?"
"It was alright, it's just that Slytherin is a bit different from what I imagined," Harry said.
"Different?" Howl was a little curious.
"No, hmm... it's fine, I think I can handle it. But I didn't expect to be in the same dormitory as Draco, the one from the Malfoy family."
"You didn't have a conflict?" Howl saw that Harry didn't want to say more, so he followed his change of topic.
"Not last night, because they came to bother me as soon as they got on the Hogwarts Express, and I chased them away," Harry said.
Howl nodded, then changed the subject and said, "Starting today, you'll add another assignment."
He gently waved his right hand, and with a swish, his sleeve billowed.
Looking again, a wand appeared in his hand.
"Normally, I recommend hiding this small wand in the sleeve of your close-fitting clothing so you can take it out at any time. This is also a small trick for magic duels," Howl explained.
Harry imitated him, stuffing his wand into his sleeve, but found it was too loose and the wand kept sliding. When he flicked his hand outwards, before he could even catch it, the wand fell straight into the grass.
"So, this is a skill that requires practice," Howl said. "Do you know why most Wizards have a habit of wearing robes?"
Harry shook his head, looking bewildered.
Howl put the wand back into his cuff. "Because robes are wide enough to hide many Potions and casting materials. It fits the Wizard's combat philosophy, which is: never let others know how many trump cards you have.
Hide it, hide everything about you. Always let your enemy underestimate you, so you can get more opportunities."
After explaining, Howl slightly raised his hand forward, and a branch lying in the grass flew straight towards him.
Then he lightly brushed his palm over the branch, transforming it into the shape of a wand.
Howl handed the fake wand to Harry. "From now on, never let anyone know that you have another wand in your sleeve that you can use at any time."
"So that's how it is..." Harry mused.
"Of course." Howl nodded. "Oh, and from now on, use this fake wand in class too."
Upon hearing this, Harry took a deep breath and nodded, "I will do it."
Just then, the two also walked into the Castle, and at a corner of the corridor, they ran into a figure.
"Oh! Po... Po... Potter," Professor Quirrell happened to meet the two, and he seemed very excited to see Harry. "I can't... can't express... how... happy I am to see you!"
"Professor Quirrell, hello." Harry suddenly felt a bit awkward.
"I... I never thought you'd go... go to Slytherin!" Quirrell said with some surprise.
"I think Slytherin's philosophy is very good," Harry said, silently adding in his heart, "Only the philosophy!"
Last night, he saw a new student welcome letter on his bedside. The letter roughly said: We don't just recruit pure-bloods, you can see many of our Little Wizards are half-bloods, at least one of their parents is a Muggle, and it even said something about Merlin also coming from Slytherin...
In Harry's opinion, this welcome letter was entirely a cover-up, especially when combined with the password "Pureblood Supremacy," it created a magical realism.
And... oh my goodness! If he hadn't been well-versed in history, he would have been fooled. Merlin was at least six or seven hundred years earlier than Slytherin.
At that time, let alone Slytherin House, Slytherin himself hadn't even appeared yet.
"Oh, yes... yes!" Quirrell seemed very pleased with Harry's words. After speaking, he turned to Howl, "Mr. Jones, what are you looking at?"
Howl withdrew his gaze from Quirrell's turban, feeling a bit presumptuous, and apologized, "Sorry, I was just curious; that scarf looks quite extraordinary."
In Howl's opinion, the scarf was too clean, unnaturally clean. This wasn't cleanliness in a physical sense, but rather that it emitted no scent other than garlic.
It was as if someone had forcibly inserted a single color block into a hazy, chaotic world using editing software.
Abrupt! Abnormal!
"Yes... this... this is a gift from an African prince," Quirrell said, then nodded to the two. "I'll... I'll take my leave now. I haven't been back in a long time, I need to reacquaint myself with the Castle."
Old rule, three updates on Tuesday. Thanks to the readers for your rewards and votes, I am very grateful. Also, everyone said to unify the update time, so it will be 5:20 PM every day, lock in wisdom... no, lock in here!!
PY a book, a seedling, interested readers can check it out.
"The Cataclysm" is about to shut down.
Top professional player Samuel, as he was about to quit the game,
Unexpectedly transmigrated into the game world, returning to the eve of the plot's beginning.
When the system bound, the panel loaded, and the talent "Evil God's Mark" awakened with it.
Thus, a new version was born...
Samuel stood on the ruins, his body covered in runes, emitting a terrifying aura that made people tremble, and the halo symbolizing supreme evil completely bloomed at his feet.
Before the disaster struck...
Everyone: "We have a dog of the Evil God among us!"
Player: "What? Is this person really a member of the official forces? Is he really not the big villain boss?"
After the disaster struck...
Everyone: "Please, Lord Samuel, save the world!"
Player: "savior, please carry us!!"