There Were Always Absurd Exceptions

The next morning, Andrew woke after a good night's sleep, briefly sorted through what he had gained, then happily went off to eat.

Although his first class today was Transfiguration, he had no intention of submitting his paper in that class. He planned to refine his own work as much as possible—though it was crude beyond belief, every little improvement counted.

However, during breakfast, he realized something was off. Owls flew into the Great Hall as if they had gone mad, and packages were being delivered like snowflakes.

He barely managed to protect his bowl from falling owl feathers.

"Merlin, what happened?"

He curiously asked the person beside him who had received a package, though he could not remember the person's name.

"Magical Legends, obviously."

The student at the next table looked as if the answer were self-evident.

Oh, Magical Legends. Come to think of it, today was the fifth—the publication day...

Andrew froze for a moment, then immediately remembered. To pretend that he had nothing to do with that story, he had not even read the version the editor had polished.

But why were there so many readers at Hogwarts?!

Andrew had even seen owls flying to the professors' table!

Someone was going to die!

I should have known. I was only fooling myself...

Watching his classmates eagerly unwrap the owls' packages, Andrew finally faced the bleak misery of his pathetic life.

The famous bestselling author Lockhart could brazenly plaster his face across newspapers, while he—at this very moment—remained unmoved.

He had excellent control over his expressions and thorough contingency plans for making mistakes. His mindset had long since recovered. Such a trivial matter was hardly worth mentioning.

"I spent my allowance too recklessly, so I had no choice. I could only choose between an owl and the magazine."

Andrew put on a regretful expression.

"That really is a shame. But if I finish reading it before tonight, I can lend it to you—though there's still the Charms homework..."

"No problem at all."

Andrew carried his disguise through to the end.

This was no longer the time to pretend he had not seen it. Deep in enemy territory, he had to blend in with the crowd. He needed to read it alongside everyone else rather than act uninterested and draw attention to himself.

There was just one problem—with the release of the new issue, the next submission needed to be put on the agenda. He had to hand in the story by the first of next month at the latest.

"Tsk, look over there."

Just as Andrew completed what seemed like a fairly pleasant transaction, Hal nudged him. "There."

Andrew glanced over—nothing unusual seemed to be happening.

"Over there, that one. The girl walking past the Slytherin table."

Only then did Andrew notice an utterly ordinary Ravenclaw girl. Average height, average looks, nothing about her stood out. Yet as she passed Slytherin, those students avoided her as though she were the plague.

"What's going on?"

Andrew lowered his voice. "Is she some professor's illegitimate daughter?"

He was not making wild guesses. It was rare to see the arrogant Slytherins acting like that.

"Not even close. She's the person Slytherin doesn't dare mention."

"Huh?"

"Yeah. A Muggle-born witch, an existence that completely breaks the rules."

Why did that sound like something out of a Mary Sue novel?

Perhaps noticing Andrew's strange look, Hal quickly explained.

"That works?"

"Yeah, it works."

Andrew nearly laughed—it truly was an existence that broke the rules.

Simply put, Europe was a place with countless nobles. The Pure-bloods of the Wizarding world were also wizards who had gained noble status, and they had taken pride in that for years.

Take the Malfoy family, for example. Their ancestors had openly supported the current Muggle royal family. Though they had retreated into the Wizarding world after the Secrecy Law, whenever their ancestral glory was mentioned, they always added that particular detail.

Yes, nobility and Pure-bloods went very well together.

The other Pure-bloods were the same. Linking themselves to nobility in their publicity was quite a good idea.

But after walking the night road too often, they finally met a ghost.

While the Wizarding world tirelessly absorbed fresh blood from the Muggle world, it happened to encounter a newly awakened witch whose family had a castle, an inheritable title, her own right of succession, and a complete, reliable family history.

At first, everything was normal. This witch was usually mild-mannered, worked hard to improve herself, and had not gotten into any conflicts with her classmates. Other than diligently studying the niche interest of Ancient Runes, there was nothing particularly worth mentioning about her. But near the end of the first half of her first year, she was insulted as a Mudblood.

After learning what that word meant, she erupted. She hurled a barrage of insults at the other party's bloodline, name, honor, and title, then wrote a letter with her family's crest and supporting documents attached and sent it to the Board of Governors to condemn the matter.

If an ordinary Muggle-born witch had done this, nobody would likely have paid any attention. But every document belonging to this witch, Elizabeth, was genuine. She could even trace connections to several ancestors of the Board of Governors' families.

That made things difficult. Refusing to acknowledge her meant denying their ancestors' glory, and then what was the point of nobles among wizards? But if they acknowledged her, how were they supposed to classify her? A witch with a title—could she be considered an honorable Pure-blood?

This was the sort of existence that truly exploited a loophole. As Hal described it, Andrew could imagine the headaches those governors had over such an anomaly appearing at Hogwarts.

Apparently, the final decision was to treat this witch as the descendant of a noble Pure-blood whose line had returned to the Wizarding world after producing a Squib. She was not a Pure-blood in the strict sense, but she would be handled as a Pure-blood descendant. Hal said research had proven she was descended from Pure-bloods, but Andrew suspected this was what had actually happened.

What a pity. Those titles that could be bought with donations probably couldn't be recognized, otherwise it would be pretty fun to make up a Pure-blood identity.

Thinking such thoughts that could easily lead to further self-destruction, Andrew ignored the commotion over there. Ancient Runes and Ancient Magic were entirely different things. Even if there were some connection in the future, during his first year he only planned to honestly study Transfiguration. He would not ask for anything else.

Eat, eat, then wait for class.

Andrew settled himself. After finishing that less-than-perfect breakfast, he went to the Transfiguration classroom, picked a good seat, and waited to smoothly stop Professor McGonagall at the door after class for a brief report.

However, he had overthought it—there really were people who were not afraid of death...

"Confiscated. One point from Hufflepuff."

Professor McGonagall placed a copy of Magical Legends on the podium. "I will reiterate this for the last time: any distraction during Transfiguration can lead to the gravest consequences. Not even the slightest distraction is acceptable."

Professor McGonagall was clearly barely suppressing her anger. Andrew almost immediately gave up on the idea of looking for her after class.

There are no new problems for now. I'll study on my own. I can hand in the paper with the assignment next Monday.

That was what Andrew thought.