Friendly Slytherins

The Slytherin table broke into applause.

But perhaps because of Malfoy's earlier remarks, or because Glenn wasn't a well-known surname, the applause was quieter than it had been for the earlier first-years who'd joined Slytherin.

That didn't stop the Slytherin prefect from standing up.

"Welcome. Find a seat."

The speaker was a girl prefect with black hair, wearing Slytherin's pale green robes and a silver snake crest on her left breast. Her name was written on her badge: Gemma Farley.

Glenn nodded, then followed two disbelieving gazes.

They belonged to Harry and Ron.

Though they were still worried about the Sorting, the fact that Glenn had been placed in the house they considered the most unbearable temporarily eased some of their tension.

Ignoring the way their expressions shifted from shock to sympathy, Glenn simply smiled in response, then found a seat at the first-year table.

His reason for choosing Slytherin was simple.

It had something to do with Dark wizards, but not much.

The main reason was that he was sentimental.

Last time, Glenn had been sorted into Slytherin, and the house had enjoyed a fairly good reputation then. It had left him with a good impression, and he'd made several good friends there.

The friend mentioned earlier, the one who seemed to collect detentions like water, had been a Slytherin student named Sebastian Sallow.

He hadn't looked down on Glenn for starting at Hogwarts in his fifth year. On the contrary, he'd helped him at every turn, sparing no effort.

His deeds included, but weren't limited to, helping Glenn adjust to life at Hogwarts, recommending him to the Duelling Club when he was still a beginner at magic, and taking a serious detention on his behalf after Glenn sneaked into the Restricted Section in the middle of the night...

And sometimes, Sebastian could even teach him things that weren't taught at Hogwarts.

In a sense, he could practically be considered an unofficial professor.

Of course, one person alone couldn't give Glenn a good impression of the whole house.

Besides the generally pleasant atmosphere back then, Glenn had another friend in Slytherin named Ominis Gaunt.

Sebastian had introduced them. Ominis came from the Gaunt Family, a pure-blood line of Slytherin, and one of the most exalted bloodlines in the Wizarding World.

To be honest, though, Glenn had no fondness for this so-called Gaunt Family.

Nearly all of them could be considered Dark wizards, taking pleasure in tormenting Muggles and other wizards. If Glenn hadn't had more important matters to deal with at the time, he would have paid them a visit no matter what.

Ominis wouldn't have stopped Glenn from doing so. In fact, he could have even led him there—because he hated Dark wizards just as much.

So, all things considered, Glenn had chosen Slytherin simply because it had made a good impression on him last time. It had little to do with how many Dark wizards were in this year's Slytherin house.

If, by some truly unfortunate chance, Glenn ran into a Dark wizard in Slytherin, then he'd have no choice but to sacrifice some time on campus and—very reluctantly—take up his old trade again.

Glenn didn't mind.

About half an hour later, with the last first-year assigned to a house, the Sorting Ceremony officially came to an end.

Harry and Ron were both sorted into Gryffindor.

As for Neville Longbottom, who'd lost his toad, he once again showed off his talent for being a scatterbrain.

As soon as the Sorting Hat announced his house, he took off with the Hat on his head, hurrying away in great strides!

It was like a cook being carried off by a customer along with the pot, and the old Hat was left crying for help.

In fact, it was right to do so, because after Neville returned the old Hat amid a burst of laughter, he hadn't gone far before he took a nasty fall.

Given how worn the Sorting Hat was by now, it probably couldn't withstand such a grand gesture...

As for Draco Malfoy—

The moment the Hat touched his head, the Sorting Hat shouted, "Slytherin!" without the slightest hesitation.

It was worth noting that after Glenn was sorted into Slytherin, Malfoy stopped talking about taking ten points from the house.

After all, if anyone looked into it, he'd probably have to shoulder a fair share of the blame for those ten points.

"Welcome to Hogwarts for a new school year!" Albus Dumbledore stood up, smiling broadly at the students.

"Before the feast begins, I'd like to say a few words." The old man spread his arms toward them, as though nothing made him happier than seeing the students gathered together.

"Idiot! Crybaby! Tare! Nip! Thanks!"

He sat back down amid the first-years' bewildered looks, while everyone else applauded and cheered.

Nobody liked a long speech before dinner, except for Phineas Black, who deliberately wrote out a whole page of opening remarks.

The next moment, the empty plates on the table were suddenly piled high with food: roast beef, roast chicken, pork chops, lamb chops, sausages, steak, boiled potatoes, roasted potatoes, chips, Yorkshire pudding, pea shoots, carrots, gravy, ketchup, and, for some bizarre reason, peppermint hard candies.

Looking at the food on the table and thinking back to what Dumbledore had just said, Glenn fell into thought for a moment.

Did he mean that if an idiot cried and dropped food scraps on the floor, he'd twist their head off?

This headmaster was more colorful than he'd expected.

"I've never heard of anyone in the Wizarding World with the surname Howard. Are you a Half-blood?" a boy asked beside him.

Blaise Zabini—that was what his badge said.

"Something like that."

At this, Blaise gave his new classmate an appraising look.

Though he was only a child, his mother had already remarried five times, and each marriage had ended with the death of her wealthy stepfather.

Whether or not there was any foul play involved, this rare experience had given the eleven-year-old a better eye for people than most of his peers.

Raised from childhood with Pure-blood values, Blaise thought Glenn was handsome and carried himself with an air of nobility. If not for that Muggle surname, he wouldn't have guessed that his new classmate was a Half-blood.

"Was your father a Muggle? Or your mother?"

At this, Glenn turned toward him.

"I don't know. I grew up in an orphanage."

It was a useful answer. If his parents were alive, people would want to trace his family tree. But if he said he'd grown up in an orphanage, they would generally assume he was a Half-blood and wouldn't pry further.

"Oh... sorry."

Blaise tried to make his expression look natural.

Of course, he didn't feel much about his earlier question. It was Glenn's answer that affected him more.

Handsome, a Half-blood, raised in an orphanage, and sorted into Slytherin...

Children from old Pure-blood families were expected to remember these traits before they ever started school.

No one explained why. They were simply told that if they met someone like this, they should befriend them if they could, because such people might suddenly accomplish something great.

But based on Blaise's own research, it might have had something to do with the You-Know-Who who must not be named...

Thinking of this, he, like many other first-years, glanced out of the corner of his eye at Harry Potter, seated a few tables away.

Rumor had it that Harry had defeated You-Know-Who as a baby.

The other adults said that was impossible. Either Harry was a born Dark wizard, or the Dark Lord had chosen to go into hiding of his own accord.

If Harry Potter had been a Slytherin, Blaise wouldn't have minded making the first move to befriend him.

But since he was a Gryffindor...

He'd better forget it. They had nothing in common.

Contrary to people's stereotypical impression of Slytherin, Blaise asked Glenn amiably, "Would you like some roast beef?"