The Welcome Feast

There were too many people here. Setting aside the other Hogwarts professors, at the very least, the Heads of House and Dumbledore were all powerful wizards.

Not to mention that noseless Socket Man, who was probably hiding behind someone's head and barely clinging to life right now.

Vaughn glanced at the professors' table and immediately spotted the fellow with a purple turban wrapped around his head.

This was not the right time to claim the reward. He would wait until he was alone later!

With a thought, he closed the System Panel, ignored the pointing fingers and whispers throughout the Great Hall, and leisurely made his way to Slytherin House's long table.

Thud!

The loud sound silenced the Great Hall for a moment. It was Draco Malfoy. His face, already pale enough, had now turned a sickly bluish white. He scrambled up from the floor in embarrassment, not daring to look at Vaughn. His robes trembled as he tried to flee toward the other end of the table.

"Hi, Draco!"

Draco froze with his back turned, then stiffly turned around. "W-W-W-Weasley... sir..."

"You can call me Vaughn. We'll be in the same House from now on, so please take care of me."

Vaughn patted his shoulder, making him jolt. He tried to force a smile, but the muscles in his face refused to cooperate, twisting into something even uglier than a cry.

Vaughn then looked at Crabbe and Goyle beside him. The two stupid cowards had buried their heads in the table, their teeth chattering nonstop.

At that moment, perhaps unable to bear watching any longer, an older student wearing a P badge on his chest stepped over and scolded in a low voice, "Hey, kid from the Weasley family, get back to your seat. Don't cause trouble for me!"

Vaughn carefully looked him over—his tall, burly build and indescribable face—then answered with a smile, "All right, Prefect."

The Prefect nodded in satisfaction. To reward Vaughn for his obedience, he took the lead in applauding as a welcome.

The other Slytherin students at the long table exchanged looks, but they gave the Prefect some face and began clapping sparsely, "welcoming" this red-haired Weasley, the traitor of the Pure-blood Families!

Vaughn did not care in the slightest. Smiling, he sat down beside Malfoy.

The applause from the Slytherin table finally kept the atmosphere from growing any more awkward. Professor McGonagall cleared her throat and said:

"Ahem, quiet! The Sorting Ceremony will continue!"

Nothing unexpected happened after that. The Sorting Ceremony quickly came to an end. Dumbledore, seemingly unaffected, stood and delivered a speech of unclear significance before announcing the start of the banquet.

Food instantly piled full across the long tables.

Of course, there were not many varieties. The meat dishes were fairly abundant, but the staple foods were painfully monotonous.

It was potatoes or potatoes. After eating them for so many years, Vaughn lost his appetite at the sight of them.

"Dear Draco, I think Professor McGonagall was right. Since we've been sorted into the same House, we should be like family."

Vaughn picked up a roasted lamb chop, something he had loved even in his previous life. Gnawing on it slowly, he said, "So I've decided to forgive your offense on the train. Let's get along happily from now on, all right?"

"..."

Was that really how it had happened?

Malfoy stared blankly. For some reason, everything before his eyes seemed dark. Looking at the food spread before him, he wanted to stuff himself until he forgot certain things—preferably until he could not bear another bite—then go back to sleep and wake up to discover that it had all been a nightmare!

Unfortunately...

"Draco, pass me the pudding."

"Mmm, authentic Yorkshire flavor. I like it. Draco, pass me the lamb chops."

"Hm? You're not eating? Potatoes can make you happy, Draco. Don't keep such a mournful face. Smile!"

"Look, Draco, you're so lovable that even the Slytherin Ghost wants to sit beside you... Ghost sir, what should I call you?"

The newly arrived Ghost was covered in blood, his expression vacant, his aura gloomy and cold. "Baron..."

Though it was only a short sentence, every punctuation mark seemed drenched in the scent of blood.

Malfoy, his stomach stuffed full of potatoes, could no longer endure it. He clapped a hand over his mouth and bolted toward the side door of the Great Hall—the one leading to the washrooms.

By the time the banquet ended, Malfoy returned looking utterly drained. His complexion was now almost a match for the Ghost's.

The male and female Prefects of Slytherin House were responsible for leading the new students to their dormitories. The male Prefect was the very fellow who had scolded Vaughn earlier.

He had introduced himself, but Vaughn had not remembered his name.

Honestly, aside from Malfoy and Astoria Greengrass, who would not enroll until next year, Vaughn felt there was no need to remember any of the Slytherin students from the past few years.

Either their brains were defective, they had been thoroughly brainwashed by their families, or their looks were hard to describe. Back when he read novels in his previous life, he had always wondered what sort of crooked lot Slytherin accepted!

That burly Prefect with the regrettable face led the First Years to the Slytherin Common Room. Located underground, its windows looked out onto the bottom of the Black Lake. It had a unique charm, though it was also elegantly known as the "dungeon."

Perhaps because he had successfully stopped Vaughn during the banquet and was feeling rather pleased with himself, after routinely explaining the House rules in the Common Room, he slapped Vaughn hard on the shoulder.

"Boy from the Weasley family, I don't care what grudge you have with Malfoy, but in Slytherin, in Hogwarts, you must follow my rules. And I hope you'll show Malfoy more respect. You're both Pure-bloods, but the Weasley family has long since..."

"Prefect."

Vaughn interrupted him with a smile. "Before you lecture me, I have a question I'd like to ask you—one about a spell."

The Prefect frowned. "Weasley, is this how your pauper parents taught you manners?"

"That spell is called—"

Vaughn raised his Wand and looked at him coldly.

Only then did the Prefect realize something was wrong. He hurriedly drew his Wand, but just as he was about to utter the incantation—

"Expelliarmus!"

A burst of red light flashed!

The Prefect's burly body flew backward.

Splat. He slammed against the huge bay window that held back the lake water in the Common Room, then slowly slid down.

The Little Snakes around them, as well as several older students playing in the Common Room, were dumbfounded.

They watched blankly as Vaughn followed up with another "Stupefy," completely knocking out the Prefect. Then he nudged the man's head with his foot and pulled a sheet of Parchment from his pocket.

Vaughn picked up the Parchment listing the dormitory assignments and found his own name.

Then he swept the crowd with a calm gaze before finally fixing his eyes on Malfoy.

"Dear Draco, did you see what just happened?"

Malfoy shuddered violently and hurriedly said, "N-no?"

"No, that's not smart enough. You should say that you saw this... whatever his name was, raise his Wand and try to attack me, and I was forced to fight back. Understand?"

Malfoy suddenly understood and nodded repeatedly.

"Very good!" Vaughn swept his gaze over the crowd again. His Wand was still in his hand, and no one dared make a move.

He nodded politely. "That's all. Good night, gentlemen!"

With that, he turned and left.