Something's Wrong. Get a Professor

As dinner was drawing to a close, two people stood up at the far end of the Slytherin table.

Super awesome! [Unintelligible text] Extensive library!

Polius Greengrass, the newly appointed Prefect, tapped his goblet lightly with a silver spoon.

The sound was crisp and clear, and the surrounding people fell silent.

No one spoke; they just exchanged glances, both knowing what was going on.

"All Slytherin students, please return directly to the Common Room after dinner."

His gaze swept across the entire room, lingering a little longer in the freshman area. The first-year wizards immediately straightened their backs under his gaze.

Veronica Yaxley, the new Prefect, stood opposite him, waiting for him to finish speaking before she spoke.

"All first-year students must be present; it's Slytherin tradition."

She stood ramrod straight, her expression solemn, the silver-green Prefect Badge gleaming in the candlelight.

A low murmur arose at the Slytherin table.

Over there, several sixth-grade boys exchanged glances, but compared to last year, there was less of the schadenfreude and more of anticipation.

A boy lowered his voice and said, "I wonder if there will be anyone like Black this year..."

The person next to him scoffed, "Don't even think about it. Someone like that only appears once every ten years is Merlin miracle."

"Bless whom? Black or..."

The other person muttered something, but before he could finish, his companion pulled him back.

"I've heard that Greengrass and Yaxley are very strict; I wonder if the procedures will change."

"How much can the process change? It's just a fight."

A seventh-grade girl gestured towards the second-grade students with her chin. "Actually, I just want to see what expressions these freshmen will have when they find out they're being compared to last year's student."

Several people followed his gaze.

Regulus was sitting in the second-year section, poking at the last piece of baked potato with a fork.

His reputation is indeed too great.

Last year's competition for the Chief spread like wildfire, originally just a matter within Slytherin, but eventually the other houses found out.

Some say he defeated his opponent in one move, some say he barely even touched his wand, and others say that's not the level a first-year student should have.

As it was passed down, the story changed.

But one thing is true: in Slytherin today, no one dares to challenge his position.

Later, the attitude towards him within Slytherin changed. No one would raise their voice in front of him, and no one would stop him from passing by.

It's not a matter of being afraid or not, it's more like... how to put it, I tacitly agreed.

The freshmen reacted more directly.

Those members of Pure-bloods nuclear families stood tall, their faces showing tension and eagerness. From a young age, they had been instilled with the idea of demonstrating strength and gaining honor, and today was their first appearance.

The others, either Half-bloods or from families that weren't considered prominent in the Pure-bloods circle, didn't look too well. Their eyes darted around the crowd anxiously, as if searching for someone to rely on.

As they swept, they came across the second-year students' area, where Regulus was sitting.

He was still eating that roasted potato.

The freshmen glanced at it twice, then quickly looked away.

Regulus finished his last bite, put down his knife and fork, and stood up.

As soon as he moved, the second-graders around him followed suit, creating a commotion.

This isn't usually the case; whoever finishes eating leaves, and no one waits for anyone.

But today is different.

The freshmen were all looking this way, and the upperclassmen were glancing over as well, which sparked some interest among the Slytherin.

We need to let people know that there is a central focus in second grade, and we need to show that they are a unified whole.

It wasn't intentional; it was just a natural thing to do in this kind of situation.

The commotion attracted a lot of attention.

Several older students exchanged glances, one of them shrugged, and then stood up.

A few others frowned, but didn't say anything; they were just a beat slower.

Common Room.

The emerald green fire warmed the entire lounge, and dark green curtains hung from the ceiling, their silver-embroidered patterns appearing and disappearing in the firelight.

Older students gathered in small groups in the sofa area, talking quietly.

The new students poured in, initially gathering together instinctively, and then gradually splitting into several smaller groups.

The Pure-bloods stood closer to the front, while the Half-bloods shrank back.

Regulus walked to an empty sofa area and sat down.

Avery sat to his left, Alex to his right, Hermes leaned back silently on a single sofa beside him.

Regulus leaned back on the sofa, his hands clasped together on his lower abdomen, his gaze fixed on the group of new students.

Polius Greengrass walked to the fireplace, surveyed the room, and the lounge fell silent.

Veronica Yaxley stood to his side and slightly behind, her gaze serious.

Polius's voice was devoid of emotion, sounding restrained. "Welcome to Slytherin's Welcome Party."

"The tradition is simple: first-year students, two against one."

"The rules are as follows: First, there are no restrictions on spells, as long as you can successfully cast them without attracting Madam Pomfrey's late-night visit."

Secondly, the purpose is to help you understand yourselves and your classmates. Slytherin respects power, but even more so, it respects the wisdom to wield power.

"The Prefect will decide the outcome."

"The Prefect will decide the outcome."

Veronica produced a silver cup containing a stack of folded parchment slips. "Draw lots to determine your opponent."

The new students stepped forward one by one, reached into the silver cup, and pulled out a slip of paper.

Someone opened it, glanced at it, and breathed a sigh of relief.

Some people's hands were shaking so badly that the note almost fell to the ground.

The person who drew Nott family's opponent turned pale on the spot.

The person who drew the Selwyn family girl's name didn't show much expression, but the girl herself frowned, as if she wasn't satisfied with this opponent.

After everyone had finished drawing their tickets, the atmosphere in the lounge became tense.

Those who breathed a sigh of relief were secretly sizing up their opponents; some were still shaking violently, while the others at the back were already shrinking into the corner.

The older students' side got lively; a sixth-grade boy pulled out a small notebook and waved it around.

"The betting's open! Betting on this year's Chief! I'm betting on that Nott family kid, five Galleon!"

A girl next to him scoffed, "Come on, Nott? I bet on the Selwyn family girl, she seems more reliable."

Another chimed in, "And the Flint? They're so big."

"What's the use of being tall? If being tall were useful, why don't you marry a Troll?"

The boy coughed and whispered, "Speaking of which, given Black's performance last year, these kids are under a lot of pressure this year."

He gestured with his chin towards the freshmen. "Look, they're all glancing at the second-year students."

Indeed, after the freshmen finished drawing lots and returned to their seats, their eyes kept drifting towards Regulus.

Some glanced at it and looked away, while others secretly peeked several times.

Regulus sat there, motionless.

Polius raised his hand. "Begin."

The first pair to go on stage.

The two boys, one Flint family boy and the other a distant relative of the Macmillan family, were both ordinary Pure-bloods, the kind who wouldn't normally rank highly within their families.

Fawley spoke first, "Impedimenta!"

A beam of purple light shot out, and Macmillan dodged to the side, then retaliated with a Leglocker Curse.

Fawley was hit, his legs came together, and he fell straight backward.

Before Macmillan could even rejoice, Fawley muttered as he collapsed, "Stupefy."

A beam of red light shot upwards and struck Macmillan squarely in the chest.

Macmillan rolled his eyes, fell down, and landed squarely on Fawley.

The two of them huddled together, and some of the onlookers laughed out loud. The Prefect declared it a tie.

The second pair.

One girl against another girl.

One was Rictusempra, the other was doing the Tarantallegra; one was laughing so hard, the other was dancing nonstop.

Finally, they both collapsed to the ground, panting and glaring at each other, resulting in a draw.

The third pair.

A tall, thin boy was facing off against a short, chubby boy.

The two of them used Repelling Charm, while the other used Impedimenta. They fought for a long time but neither of them could hit the other.

Finally, one of them suddenly changed tactics, using a Silencio attack.

Just as the other person was about to chant the incantation, they suddenly realized they couldn't make a sound; only their lips were moving, but they couldn't utter a single word.

He stood there, stunned, his face flushed red.

The skinny boy took the opportunity to Stupefy, winning the game.

Sparse applause rang out from the older students.

One commentator remarked, "This move is quite interesting."

Regulus's eyes were on the field, but his mind was preoccupied with his trip to the Room of Requirement that evening.

The Spatial Network, with its five incantations operating simultaneously, is already stable; it's time to add more.

After the Saiph, my mental strength increased a bit more; adding one or two more shouldn't be a problem.

The next student to take the stage was a freshman he hadn't noticed before.

Thin, average-looking, wearing a Slytherin robe that looked a little ill-fitting.

Standing in the crowd, I felt a little nervous and a little excited, just like the other freshmen.

Regulus was about to look away when he suddenly stopped.

Something was wrong with the Magic Power within that kid; it was restless, like something was burning, surging, and desperately trying to escape.

That wasn't just gushing, it was spraying.

Regulus raised an eyebrow slightly.

He didn't deliberately extend his Magic Perception; he simply used his eyes to see.

With his current perception, wherever his gaze falls, his Magic Perception will naturally follow.

Regulus remained silent; he slightly turned his head and said something to Alex on his right.

The voice was very low, only Alex could hear. "Go find Professor Slughorn and tell him there's something going on in the lounge."

Alex paused, somewhat confused.

But having followed Regulus for a year, he knew that in times like these, there was no need to ask why.

He nodded, his expression unchanged, and slowly leaned back.

Behind Alex stood Samuel Vance and Lina Costa.

These two Half-bloods second-year students would naturally gravitate towards Regulus in this situation.

But I didn't dare to get too close; I just stood a little closer.

They didn't dare sit down; there were no seats for them, but standing meant they were on his side.

Alex turned around and whispered something to Lina.

Without hesitation, Lina nodded, bent over, and walked out from the back of the crowd. Her movements were very light, and since everyone's attention was focused on the middle circle, no one noticed her at all.

Samuel heard it too, but he hesitated for a moment.

He glanced around, then at Regulus's retreating figure, and then followed him.

Regulus didn't turn around; he looked into the circle, where the kid had made his move.

Flipendo!

A beam of red light shot out from the tip of his staff, much faster and brighter than normal.

The opponent couldn't dodge and was hit directly, flying backward and crashing into the wall.

The onlookers gasped in surprise.

The older students exchanged glances, and one of them whistled.

"This spell is effective."

"That's quite powerful."

Whose is it? I've never heard of it.

The kid stood there, panting, with excitement on his face.

Regulus watched his Magic Power.

After the incantation was performed, the restlessness persisted; instead of subsiding, it became even more chaotic, like a fire that had burned too intensely and had begun to consume things that shouldn't be burning.

Regulus looked away and leaned back on the sofa.

Avery leaned closer, his voice low, "What's wrong?"

He had seen Alex's little movement just now.

Regulus didn't speak, but simply shook his head slightly.

Avery stopped asking questions. He looked at the excited freshman in the circle, then at Regulus, lost in thought.

Alex looked a little serious and didn't say anything.

Within the circle, that kid is still waiting for his next opponent.

No one noticed that two second-year Half-bloods quietly slipped out.