No One Can Bully Me

Zabini and Nott secretly cursed, So you've decided to just give up and let it all burn? We're truly cursed for eight lifetimes to be mixed up with you!

Rosier, Zabini, and the third boy deliberated for a long time before finally deciding to snitch.

This method was low-cost and highly effective; as long as Snape didn't take the matter to their families or the rest of the student body, they could save face.

The three whispered in a corner of the common room for a while before setting off to intercept Snape.

They were so preoccupied with their plotting that they didn't notice Daphne listening to every word not far away.

The young girl frowned, her face full of worry, as she fretted to herself: What if Tom gets severely punished by Snape?

By nearly eight o'clock, Tom had finally slept his fill. He crawled out of bed, sluggishly washed up, and shuffled into the common room in his slippers.

It had been dark last night, so he hadn't clearly seen the only view the Slytherin dormitory had to offer: the depths of the Black Lake.

He drifted over to the floor-to-ceiling window. Morning light filtered through the water, leaving only a few faint rays, and he could see several fish aimlessly darting between the seaweed. Their carefree, mindless leisure made his teeth itch.

Suddenly, a massive shadow loomed over them. Once the shadow shifted away, the fish were nowhere to be seen.

Based on the thick tentacle that had swept past, Tom instantly concluded it was the Giant Squid. He curled his lip and muttered to himself, Being mindless isn't a good thing. You're about to die and you can't even be bothered to pose for a struggle. What a waste of such a large size.

"Isn't it breathtaking?" Daphne appeared at his side, looking up at the window. "I'd heard that the underwater view in Slytherin was incredible, but seeing it for myself, the books really undersold it."

"It's alright," Tom nodded, his tone carrying a perfunctory satisfaction. "It gives the illusion of living in a luxury lake-view room every day."

He thought to himself, It's just okay. This scenery was the only advantage of the Slytherin common room; the rest of the place was nothing but flaws—dark, damp, sunless, and the dark green color scheme felt downright gloomy.

Anyone forced to stifle here for seven years would end up twisted—though, of course, that excluded a sunny boy like him.

What broke Tom the most was the dampness. When he woke up in the morning, the quilt was heavy enough to crush a person; if he wrung it out hard enough, it might actually drip water.

England was already damp enough, and the wind and rain of the Scottish Highlands were even more ridiculous. Add to that the fact that the dungeons were right next to the Black Lake, and it was a place no human should be living in.

The castle dungeons were usually used to lock up prisoners. He really couldn't understand why Salazar Slytherin had chosen this spot, unless he was afraid his students wouldn't go insane.

On the way to the Great Hall, Daphne quietly told Tom what she had overheard.

Tom waved his hand dismissively, thanked the little witch for her concern, and didn't give the trio a second thought: "Three clowns, and they think they're worth my time?"

"Aren't you worried, Tom?" Daphne glanced surreptitiously at Snape at the teachers' table and quickly lowered her voice to whisper in his ear. "I heard Professor Snape is very strict, and you hit them yesterday."

"Even the strictest person has to be reasonable, right?" Tom chewed on the Muggle gum he'd smuggled in, looking perfectly calm.

"Yesterday, those three—Zabini and his lot—were the ones who came looking for trouble. I was just defending myself. As long as Snape is fair, he'll know who to punish."

"Really?" Daphne was still a bit worried, but seeing Tom's confident, infuriatingly smug look, she had no choice but to set her mind at ease.

At the long table, besides breakfast, the first-years found their class schedules laid out before them.

Tom glanced at his and nearly laughed out loud: "This is too easy! It's even less than what I had in my old Muggle primary school!"

The first year focused on foundations, with no electives, and the few core subjects were all "minor classes."

There was one Transfiguration class with Gryffindor in the morning and one Herbology class with Ravenclaw in the afternoon. That was a grand total of one hundred minutes, and once they were done, they were free for the rest of the day.

The rest of the schedule was much the same, with only two or three classes a day. This life was practically heavenly, and the time saved would be perfect for spending in the Study Space.

"Let's go explore the castle after we eat," Tom patted Daphne's arm. "I heard the stairs at Hogwarts run around on their own like naughty children. If you aren't careful, you'll get lost, so let's go scout the place."

The little witch nodded repeatedly. The two finished their breakfast quickly; Tom, fearing he might get hungry later, grabbed two pieces of bread and butter before sauntering away from the table.

Over at the Gryffindor table, Hermione watched their retreating figures, wanting to follow. After all, they were both Muggle-born, and it would be nice to have company.

But her roommate, Lavender Brown, kept chatting her up, rambling on and on, so she had to give up, secretly hoping she could talk to Tom next time.

As soon as Tom left, the trio of Zabini exchanged looks, waiting like thieves.

When Snape rose to leave the table, the three immediately chased after him like lapdogs, intercepting him outside the entrance hall.

"Rosier, is there something?" Snape frowned. His expression was already unpleasant, and being blocked by these three made his tone even colder.

Of the three students, he only really remembered Rosier; Rosier's parents were Death Eaters, making them "old colleagues" of a sort.

"Professor! You have to stand up for us!" Zabini's brain short-circuited in his anxiety.

Under Snape's gaze, which was so shocked his pupils dilated, he "swished" open his robes, revealing his scrawny chest, still marked with the whip welts from last night.

"Eek!" A witch who happened to be coming in for a meal caught the scene and screamed on the spot, her eyes full of gossip.

It was the peak of mealtime, and the area outside the entrance hall was bustling. Everyone instantly swarmed over, their eyes gleaming with the hunger for drama, and they began whispering to one another.

"Idiots! Follow me!" Snape's face turned green under the weight of so many strange and suggestive stares. He let out a low growl and practically fled toward the stairs leading down.

If he stayed any longer, who knew what ridiculous rumors would be circulating through Hogwarts by tomorrow? This was Great Britain, after all—gossip traveled faster than magic!

The three were terrified by Snape's intensity and stumbled after him in a panic.

Once inside the office, Snape slammed the door shut, turned around, and fixed his cold, black eyes on Zabini.

His rage was practically overflowing: "If you don't explain exactly what you're trying to do, even if you are my student, I will still put you in detention and have you scrubbing chamber pots in the Forbidden Forest!"

"Professor! Look at these whip marks! Riddle did this!" Zabini hurriedly pointed to his chest.

His voice trembled, and he was so aggrieved he was on the verge of tears. "I've grown up this long, and even my mother and her six stepfathers have never beaten me this hard! This is an absolute humiliation!"

Nott and Rosier also crowded forward, adding their own embellished accounts, painting themselves as the poor, bullied victims and Tom as a heinous villain.

Snape's expression grew darker and darker, his brow furrowed so tightly it could have crushed a fly. Only one thought remained in his mind: The audacity! This Muggle-born brat actually dared to strike pure-blood students on Slytherin turf—he's gone too far!