Ron: I Made a Decision That Went Against My Family's Traditions

"Albus, do you have anything to say?"

"Uh..." Dumbledore was momentarily at a loss for words.

He'd originally planned to reassure Snape by having Tom go through the Sorting Ceremony, but things had only backfired.

He had considered the possibility that Tom might join Slytherin, but this was the first time he'd ever heard the Sorting Hat call someone "a born Slytherin."

After all, Tom was so young.

Only a direct descendant of Salazar's could have had that effect.

Come to think of it, Voldemort seemed to have Slytherin blood, too.

Snape seemed to have thought of that as well. He was looking at Tom with growing suspicion.

"Don't be so hasty, Professor Snape. Why don't you take a look at this first?"

Dumbledore took several clean but crumpled slips of paper from his robes. They looked as if they'd been read over and over in a short span of time.

From the moment Tom arrived at King's Cross Station until he entered Hogwarts, the Order of the Phoenix members Dumbledore had sent out had carefully recorded everything that happened to him and sent back a letter every so often.

If it hadn't been for those letters, Dumbledore might truly have found Tom suspicious after what had happened today.

As he read the slips of paper in his hand, Snape finally calmed down.

"After the feast, I'd like to speak with you."

"Good. I'd like to speak with the Sorting Hat, too."

Dumbledore glanced at the old hat. He was quite curious to know what "Azkaban" meant.

Meanwhile, below the dais.

["Born Dark Lord" +30 progress]

["Born Dark Lord" +20 progress]

["Born Dark Lord" +40...+50...

["Born Dark Lord" +50 progress, Impression Level reached Lv. 3, Achievement Points +1]

["Born Dark Lord" +10...+30...

Hogwarts' senior professors were all exceptional people—old wizards who'd made names for themselves in various fields. Their influence might not rival Dumbledore's, but it was still considerable.

All the events surrounding the Sorting Ceremony had given Tom's [Born Dark Lord] persona a full level-up in one fell swoop. He was even close to reaching Lv. 4.

"Is this a good thing or a bad thing?" Tom looked at the panel in front of him and couldn't help laughing wryly.

"Ah..."

Oh well. He'd just have to take things as they came.

At worst, he could help a few more old ladies cross the street and establish a couple of positive personas.

Time flew by...

The Sorting Ceremony went by quickly.

Almost everyone ended up in the house they'd been assigned in the original story, except Harry and... Ron.

"How'd you end up in Slytherin?" Tom asked curiously, looking at Ron, who was sitting across from him.

Harry's placement in Slytherin could be attributed to Tom's long-term influence, but how had Ron ended up there after only a few hours together?

"Big Brother Tom, I want to learn sports..." Ron gazed at Tom with eager eyes.

He'd originally been headed for Gryffindor, but after asking the Sorting Hat, he'd been placed in Slytherin. There were two reasons: he didn't know any of his peers except Tom and Harry, and he hoped he could learn something from Tom.

Ron was probably the most overlooked child in the Weasley family.

He had five brilliant older brothers. Two had been Prefects, one was a current Prefect, and two were somewhat famous Quidditch Beaters.

And he had a younger sister, who was adored by the whole family.

He alone was stuck in the middle, the "least special child" in the family.

Now, though, he'd seen a chance to change that.

On the train ride, Harry had told him a lot about Tom. Though Harry's old-fashioned Chinese-style English had been genuinely hard to understand, Ron had managed to get the gist.

It was only then that Ron learned that someone as famous as Harry Potter had once lived a hundred times more miserably than he had. And Tom was the one who'd changed Harry's life.

So Ron wanted Tom to train him the way he'd trained Harry. He knew he'd never reach Tom's level, but he thought he could at least catch up with Harry.

He wanted to be like Harry, too—to throw a punch and charge in the moment someone insulted him or the people around him.

But that took strength and courage.

"So you made a decision that went against your family's traditions?" Tom's expression turned a little peculiar after hearing Ron's full explanation.

The Weasley family had been Gryffindors for generations. The parents, the older brothers, and even the younger sister and the children of the next generation would all be Gryffindors.

If Tom was called "a born Slytherin," then the Weasley family was "born Gryffindors." That was probably part of why they were called "the shame of the Sacred Twenty-Eight."

Who would've thought that, under Tom's influence...

The first Slytherin in Weasley family history had been born!

"That's right, Big Brother!" Ron's gaze grew even more fervent.

"Fine. Starting tomorrow morning, you can train with me," Tom said helplessly, having no choice but to agree.

As the saying went, many hands made light work. Since they'd just arrived at Hogwarts, it was useful to have a few allies around. They'd be able to make a lot of things easier in the future.

"Brilliant, Brother Ron! From now on, you can take the fourth seat. Dudley'll be thrilled to have a fourth little brother!" Harry grinned and clasped his hands in salute.

"Over the Christmas holidays in first year, you have to introduce me to Third Brother," Ron said, immediately copying Harry and returning the salute.

Meanwhile...

The Sorting Ceremony had finally come to an official end.

"Welcome, new and returning students, to another year of learning at Hogwarts. But remember, there are a few places you mustn't go, such as the Forbidden Forest and the Fourth Floor..."

After briefly listing a series of rules, Dumbledore added one last thing: "Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you!"

He bowed slightly and returned to his seat.

A thunderous round of applause broke out below. Tom joined in.

Hogwarts really was straight out of a fairy tale. The headmaster's speech was short and to the point. Whether or not anyone understood the headmaster's coded words, the fact that he didn't drag things out was worthy of a hearty round of applause.

Then, before the applause had even died down, food appeared out of thin air on the long tables in front of them.

Roast mutton, lamb chops, sausages, mashed potatoes... Each dish came with its own sauce. All sorts of tempting aromas filled the Great Hall in an instant, rousing the appetites of every young wizard.

The feast was dazzling.

"Big Brother, isn't Great Britain supposed to be a food desert? How come the school food's so lavish?" Harry tugged at Tom's sleeve.

Everything before him—the colors, the aroma, the taste—was a hundred times better than what he'd had in his primary school cafeteria. He'd thought he was seeing things.

"I heard Hogwarts' menu was drawn up a thousand years ago by Helga Hufflepuff, one of the Founders. She was extremely skilled at food charms," Tom explained.

He'd read all this in Hogwarts: A History. It was one of the books students needed before starting school.

"No wonder." Harry couldn't resist grabbing a piece of beef and stuffing it straight into his mouth.

There was one thing Tom hadn't mentioned about the menu.

The fact that an old menu from a thousand years ago was still up to date was further proof that Great Britain really was a food desert. After all, this was the place that could come up with stargazy pie...

How terrifying.