Make Slytherin Great Again!

The common room was packed. Dinner had just finished, and people needed time to digest their meals, but today was exceptionally crowded. The spacious common room was filled with upperclassmen; two hundred students sat or stood, waiting for the show to begin.

Slytherin rarely saw arrogant or overbearing freshmen. Even if one appeared, they were usually from a wizarding family, with elders who were either high-ranking officials at the Ministry of Magic or professors at the school—people most dared not provoke. But Ezio was different.

Auditore was not a native English surname. There were many clever people in Slytherin; otherwise, they couldn't have won the Hogwarts House Cup for several consecutive years while being dragged down by a bunch of fools. Beyond Snape's favoritism, it relied more on the clever Slytherin snakes earning points from other professors.

This surname originated in Italy, and according to some wizards with relatives there, Ezio likely didn't come from an Italian wizarding family, as no such family named Auditore existed there.

A Muggle-born wizard with no backing dared to spout such nonsense in Slytherin. The number of people wanting to teach him a lesson was higher than before.

Just as the young wizards were led into the common room by Labas, several burly figures approached.

"Marcus, I'm busy right now."

Labas stared coldly at the boorish man who was half a head taller than him. Although both came from pure-blood wizarding families—part of the Sacred Twenty-Eight—their relationship was mediocre. Labas had never looked highly upon Marcus, the disgrace of Slytherin. Given his family status, he was a cut above Marcus, so he naturally didn't feel the need to be polite.

"It has nothing to do with you." Marcus spoke with a nasty tone, waving a thick arm. "I have business with that stinking Mudblood. Get out of my way!"

When the words "stinking Mudblood" boomed from Marcus's mouth, the rough guys behind him let out a harsh, mocking laugh.

"Mudblood, are you talking to me?"

At that moment, a voice rang out clearly. Ezio, who had been at the front of the crowd, stepped out calmly and looked at the burly giant who stood a head taller than him from a distance of about two meters.

Marcus looked quite wild, suspected to be a half-breed between a wizard and a troll. His thick body and ugly face made one feel as if he had used the nutrients meant for his brain to grow muscle instead. He looked more like an unevolved gorilla than a wizard.

"This saves time." Marcus's eyes lit up when he saw Ezio, and he immediately stepped forward.

This movement startled the other freshmen. In the back of the group, a flash of excitement crossed Draco's face; he was finally going to see Ezio get humbled. But the thought was fleeting. He was more concerned with whether Ezio would pull out his wand and cast an Avada Kedavra on this guy. Still, scaring him would be enough. Although Ezio had made him look foolish earlier, only three people knew about it, and Ezio had spared him some dignity by not letting him leave with wet trousers. For some reason, Draco felt a tiny bit of "gratitude" toward him.

"I'll let you know that Slytherin is no place for a stinking Mudblood like you!"

The moment Marcus took a step and reached out to grab Ezio, his target suddenly vanished. Ezio's speed far exceeded Marcus's. In the blink of an eye, he had closed the distance to the boorish man.

Ezio's right fist struck like lightning, precisely hitting the liver area of Marcus's abdomen. It was a seemingly light blow, yet the six-foot-three giant instantly hunched over. His eyes bulged, and as he fell, he curled up clutching his stomach, unable to even let out a scream.

He had been rendered mute by the sheer intensity of the pain. This punch was the least lethal strike Ezio had determined through practice.

If he had flicked out his hidden blade as Marcus fell, he could have easily slit his throat; the massive arterial hemorrhage would have rendered him unconscious within three seconds.

But the hidden blade was replaced by a wand, and he had no intention of killing.

Marcus's collapse was only the beginning. With swift and elegant steps, moving like a butterfly through flowers, Ezio walked forward calmly in the eyes of the onlookers. The guys following Marcus couldn't react in time; as if rehearsed, they followed Marcus's lead and curled up on the floor.

"You called me... a Mudblood?"

Ezio returned to his original spot with his hands hanging at his sides. He stepped on Marcus's face and said in a voice so calm it was cold: "Then what kind of dog shit are you?"

A crisp clicking sound echoed. Whether his jaw was shattered or dislocated, the heart-wrenching wail of agony pierced everyone's ears, torturing their nerves and turning the faces of the onlookers pale. They seemed to have provoked a terrifying individual.

"I said you are the trash of Slytherin..."

Ezio raised his head, his gaze sweeping the room. "Does anyone have an objection?"

An empty zone appeared around him. The young wizards retreated; the only ones who didn't move were Harry and Labas.

"Perhaps you are still thinking..." Ezio's lips curled slightly. "Wizards should use wands, right—"

The moment the last two words were uttered, Ezio waved his hand. A Shield Charm blocked two red beams of light fired from his side. His left hand moved slightly, and the Thunderbird Wand quickly countered. Two small wooden sticks suddenly flew into the air, and he snatched them out of the sky.

"Then let's use wizarding methods."

Snap. The wands flying in mid-air were caught by his hand and then broken into two pieces.

"Feel free to attack."

The Elder Wand was brandished. Two figures were dragged out from the crowd, and with a downward flick of the wand, they slammed heavily onto the floor, rolling in pain.

"Dueling, I should be quite good at it."

Whether it was the reaction to block a sneak attack without even looking, or the silent casting that was more proficient than many upperclassmen, as Ezio revealed a glimpse of his strength, no one dared to treat him as an ordinary first-year student anymore. His clean and decisive methods, his dual mastery of physical and magical combat, and his ruthless execution—in just a short moment, the onlookers had labeled Ezio as someone not to be trifled with.

"Enough!"

Labas, standing to the side, spoke angrily: "Williams, Jabbar! Is sneaking up on a freshman what you should be doing? You hopeless idiots!"

The two guys dragged out of the crowd gave Labas a headache. If it were just Marcus, a fistfight wouldn't be serious, as even broken bones could be healed instantly with a potion. But using spells to sneak attack, and failing at it, was an act that made him furious. Failing a sneak attack was simply a disgrace!

"You two idiots, what's the difference between you and Marcus?" Labas spat bitterly, as these two were members of his Slytherin circle, which made him lose a lot of face.

"I apologize for their stupidity." Labas straightened his expression.

"It wasn't you who attacked me, unless this was orchestrated by you." Ezio turned to look at Labas. His voice remained calm, but it made Labas stiffen. Ezio calmly shifted his gaze and asked: "Do you know why I chose Slytherin?"

Labas looked attentive. The people nearby, who had intended to watch a show and had now finished watching, no longer had the relaxed look they had before. They all stared at Ezio, waiting for his speech.

"Slytherin, where strength is respected."

"I came here for only one thing."

Ezio held up a finger.

"Make Slytherin great again!"

"You must have had enough of living with these idiots, fools, and parasites!"

Looking at this young but mature, handsome face filled with dominance and confidence, it seemed as if some emotion was stirred up in this instant.

"Fellow Slytherins!"

We gather here today not just to celebrate the fresh blood flowing into Slytherin, but to witness the rebirth of Slytherin itself!

In the past, we have been misunderstood and maligned, labeled as nothing more than dregs who resort to despicable means to achieve our ends. We pursue ultimate success, yes—but is there anything wrong with that?

No!

The pursuit of success is an instinctual desire rooted in the heart of every human being. No one likes failure, and no one likes the wretched outcome of gaining nothing after putting in the effort!

Our pursuit is righteous, so why have our correct goals and grand visions been misinterpreted by others as something despicable?

I know this is not your fault. I believe that most of you are excellent and intelligent, just like me. You don't need to repeat simple school magic twice, nor do you need to waste painstaking effort trying to master monotonous potions over and over like fools. You are clever people who understand things at a single touch, so why are our feet shackled by this foul-smelling mud?

It is because many pieces of waste and trash who are unworthy of being among us have mixed into our ranks. Those simple-minded idiots should be tied to stones and sunk into the Black Lake to rot away with the silt at the bottom.

The great revival of Slytherin is an awakening and rebirth that begins today. We will no longer be a weak, scattered pile of sand filled with internal conflict, but a collective filled with the power of unity, purging the filth from our midst!

Salazar Slytherin was a great wizard praised and admired a thousand years ago! Compared to the founders of the other three houses, Slytherin is what a true wizard should look like!

Cast aside unnecessary mercy, pay no mind to the gazes of others, and on the great path of pursuing success, we shall march forward with unwavering resolve. Our goals are aligned, our convictions are one: we are to become the strong in the eyes of all, and the pursuit of success is our unchanging objective!

Glory will become the ladder upon which we climb. The mediocre will voluntarily raise their hands to offer it to us, for they must acknowledge that the footsteps leading the world forward are the ones we take first!

We are currently in a great era, and we are about to welcome the most glorious third millennium in human history! If we stand still, we will be trampled underfoot!

A thousand years ago, the four founders established the Hogwarts that remains glorious to this day. A thousand years later, we will stand on the shoulders of the giant known as Hogwarts to ascend the brand-new ladder of the coming millennium!

Perhaps you were once lost, unable to see where the path ahead lay. After graduation, you might have become the dregs of the wizarding world, trampled like grass, living in a daze under the discriminatory gazes of others, running ragged for a few Galleons. Or perhaps you would have repeated the old paths of your parents, exhausting all your brilliance and talent in a dull life.

None of these are success, and none of these are things a Slytherin should pursue!

Remember our duty, chase our dreams, and let the belief in success be the beacon that guides our way. The path to glory lies before us; do not lower your heads and let the mud trip you up. Shake it off and step onto this ladder!

"How should we punish these stumbling blocks that have mixed in among us?!"

Ezio's wand tip pointed toward the group of people still struggling in pain on the ground.

"I leave them to you."

"Let me see your resolve. My compatriots who wish to join me in bringing about the great revival of Slytherin, you may challenge me at any time. I will defeat you, and then guide you forward onto the correct path."

"Make Slytherin great again!"

Ezio clenched his fist and raised it high. The echoes of agreement started sporadically, eventually merging into a chant that left some terrified and others extremely excited—

"Make Slytherin great again!!!"

Force can intimidate the courage of the clever, and words can stir the ambition of those people. Every student who enters Slytherin harbors a genuine ambition deep within their heart.