Friendly Slytherin

The Slytherin table erupted in applause.

But perhaps because of Malfoy's earlier remarks, or maybe because Glenn's surname wasn't well-known, the applause was noticeably quieter than when the previous few new students had joined Slytherin.

That didn't stop the Slytherin prefect from rising to her feet.

"Welcome. Find a seat."

The speaker was a female prefect with black hair, wearing Slytherin's pale green robes, a silver serpent crest on her left chest, and a name tag reading—Gemma Farley.

After nodding, Glenn followed two incredulous stares.

It was Harry and Ron.

Though they were still worried about their own Sorting, the fact that Glenn had been placed into what they considered the most insufferable house temporarily overshadowed some of their anxiety.

Ignoring their gazes, which shifted from shock to sympathy, Glenn simply smiled in response and found a seat at the new students' 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 nostalgic.

Last time, Glenn had gone to Slytherin, and back then, Slytherin's reputation was fairly decent, leaving him with good enough impressions and introducing him to several great friends.

The friend he'd mentioned earlier, the one who racked up detentions like water, was a Slytherin student named Sebastian Sallow.

Not only had he not looked down on Glenn for enrolling in his fifth year, but he'd helped him in every way possible, sparing no effort.

His deeds included, but were not limited to: helping Glenn adapt to Hogwarts life, recommending him to the Duelling Club when he was still a beginner in magic, and taking a severe punishment for sneaking into the Restricted Section late at night...

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

In a sense, he was practically an unofficial professor.

Of course, one person alone couldn't leave a good enough impression for an entire house.

Besides the overall atmosphere being pleasant back then, Glenn also had a friend in Slytherin named Ominis Gaunt.

Introduced by Sebastian, he came from the Gaunt family, a direct line of Slytherin, one of the most noble bloodlines in the wizarding world.

But honestly, Glenn had no fondness for the so-called Gaunt family.

They were almost all Dark wizards, taking pleasure in tormenting Muggles and other witches and wizards. If it hadn't been for more important matters at the time, Glenn would have paid them a visit.

In that regard, Ominis wouldn't have hindered Glenn—he could even lead the way, because he too hated Dark wizards.

So, to sum it up, Glenn chose Slytherin purely because his last experience there had been good, and it had nothing to do with how many Dark wizards were in this year's Slytherin.

If it really came down to it, and Glenn happened to run into Dark wizards in Slytherin, he'd just have to sacrifice some school time and reluctantly pick up his old trade.

Glenn didn't mind that.

About half an hour later, as the last new student was assigned a house, the Sorting Ceremony officially ended.

Harry and Ron were both sorted into Gryffindor.

And Neville Longbottom, the one who'd lost his toad, once again displayed his scatterbrained nature.

As soon as the Sorting Hat announced his house, he grabbed the hat and bolted off in a hurry, taking two steps at a time!

It was like a cook being kidnapped by a customer, pot and all, forcing the old hat to cry out for help.

In fact, it was right to do so, because after Neville returned the old hat amid a burst of laughter, he took just a few steps before tripping hard.

Given the Sorting Hat's current state of wear, it probably couldn't withstand such a grand gesture...

As for Draco Malfoy.

The moment the hat touched his head, it shouted "Slytherin" without any hesitation.

Worth noting, after Glenn was announced as Slytherin, Malfoy stopped talking about deducting ten points from Slytherin.

After all, if it came down to it, he'd probably bear a fair share of the responsibility for those ten points.

"Welcome everyone to Hogwarts for the new school year!" Albus Dumbledore stood up, beaming at the students.

"Before the feast begins, I'd like to say a few words." The old man spread his arms wide, as if nothing pleased him more than seeing the students gathered together.

"Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you!"

With that, he sat down amid the confused looks of the new students, while everyone else applauded and cheered.

No one liked long-winded speeches before a meal, except for Phineas Black, who deliberately wrote out a whole sheet of paper as an opening address.

The next moment, the empty plates on the tables were suddenly piled high with food: roast beef, roast chicken, pork chops, lamb chops, sausages, steak, boiled potatoes, roast potatoes, chips, Yorkshire pudding, peas, carrots, gravy, ketchup, and for some odd reason, peppermint humbugs.

Looking at the food on the table and recalling Dumbledore's words, Glenn pondered for a moment.

Did that mean if some nitwit blubbered and dropped oddments on the floor, he'd tweak their head off?

He hadn't expected the headmaster to have such a personality.

"I've never heard of a Howard in the wizarding world. Are you half-blood?" a boy beside him asked.

Blaise Zabini—that's what his name tag read.

"Something like that."

Hearing this, Blaise gave the new student a thorough once-over.

Though still just a child, his mother had already remarried five times, each marriage ending with the death of a wealthy stepfather. Whether or not conspiracy lurked behind it, this rare experience had granted the eleven-year-old a knack for reading people beyond his years. Raised from childhood in pureblood education, he could tell at a glance that Glenn was handsome and noble in bearing—if not for the Muggle surname, he'd never have guessed the new student was a half-blood.

"Your father a Muggle? Or your mother?"

At this, Glenn turned sideways.

"No idea. I grew up in an orphanage."

It was a useful answer. If his parents were alive, they'd need to dig deeper; claiming orphanage origins broadly labeled him a half-blood without further scrutiny.

"Oh... sorry."

Blaise tried to keep his expression natural.

Of course, he felt little about the question itself; it was more Glenn's reply that struck him. Extraordinary looks, half-blood, orphanage background, Slytherin...

For established pureblood families, these traits were memorized before every child started school. No reason given—they simply said, if you meet such a person, befriend them if possible, claiming someone like that might stir up something big at any moment. But from Blaise's own research, it might be tied to that unspeakable You-Know-Who...

Thinking this, he glanced like many other first-years at Harry Potter, a few tables away.

Rumor had it that as an infant, he'd defeated You-Know-Who.

Other adults said it was impossible—either Harry was a natural dark wizard, or the Dark Lord chose to lie low himself.

If Harry Potter were in Slytherin, Blaise wouldn't mind actively befriending him.

But since he's Gryffindor...

Forget it, no connection at all.

Contrary to the stereotypical view of Slytherins, Blaise asked Glenn amiably, "Want some roast beef?"