Flying Over the British Isles

After saying that, Malfoy ran off excitedly, eager to share this good news with all the Slytherin.

"He's being way too gloating," Hermione said, frowning with a helpless expression.

But can we blame Malfoy? It's all because Harry and Ron were so useless, handing over their weaknesses.

"Alright, stop worrying about other people's troubles, it'll make you age faster." Tom reached out and ruffled her hair.

He joked, "If you have wrinkles and become a little old lady when you're thirty, I won't keep teasing you anymore."

"You're the one with wrinkles!" Hermione slapped his hand away, but wasn't really angry.

Tom smiled and took her hand, leading her through the Entrance Hall and into the brightly lit Great Hall.

Students poured into the Great Hall and took their seats, eagerly anticipating the Sorting Ceremony and the opening banquet.

After all, the craftsmanship of Hogwarts' House-elf is renowned throughout the entire Wizarding World.

Countless candles hung in mid-air, illuminating the golden plates and creating a romantic atmosphere that complemented the "starry sky" on the ceiling.

"Tom!" Zabini plopped down opposite Tom, nearly overturning the table with excitement. "I've missed you so much all summer!"

"Me too!" Nott followed closely behind, nodding vigorously.

Rosier, standing to the side, stammered, looking at Tom with the same respect and fear he felt for his boss.

Not only him, but also Steven Rosier (his cousin), a sixth-grader, was peeking from a distance, looking restless.

Unbeknownst to anyone, yesterday the patriarch of the Rosier family in Britain, their grandfather, summoned the two men and gave them a death order:

At school, you had to listen to Tom Riddle in everything. If he said east, and you two dared to say southeast, you'd be punished at home.

Steven was unconvinced. He was older than Tom, and even if Tom was powerful, he wasn't Pure-blood.

Without any connections, it's best to stay out of the way; why should you be a lackey?

As a result, Theodore Rosier witnessed firsthand just how ruthless his grandfather's family discipline was. It started with a hundred lashes, which only stopped when Steven passed out.

After waking up, Steven completely gave in, and only then did old Rosier relent: This was an order from the France family.

Despite the fact that Rosier 'Britain and France families separated early on, there was a clear distinction between master and servant, with the main family's strength far surpassing that of the branch family.

Rosier in Britain has only managed to survive this long thanks to support from his family; he has no right to refuse.

Moreover, old Rosier knew perfectly well that the person behind this order was no ordinary individual.

As for Tom's identity, he guessed as he pleased, but dared not utter a word about it to the two younger men.

The more you know, the easier it is to leak secrets; that old fox Albus Dumbledore is keeping a close eye on things.

That's why the two Rosier were behaving so strangely today; Steven felt a dull ache in his back whenever he caught a glimpse of Tom.

While Daphne went to see Professor McGonagall, Zabini quickly came over, pulled out his Potions notebook, and asked a few questions he had gotten stuck on during his summer self-study.

There are few truly stupid Slytherin; most are quite shrewd, Zabini knew his strength Potions.

With a powerful figure like Tom by his side, it would be foolish not to try and curry favor with him. His "Black Widow" mother also fully supports his efforts to get close to Tom.

Tom didn't hold back, patiently explaining things to him and even adding a few extra points, wanting to set a benchmark.

"Follow me, and you'll get to eat meat"—this tactic is exactly the same as Voldemort's back in the day.

Wasn't Voldemort able to gather a group of dark wizards simply by relying on his knowledge of Dark Magic?

Antonin Dolohov became Death Eater simply to learn more ruthless Dark Magic, and in the end, he even killed Lupin.

While Tom was explaining, the Slytherin around him didn't dare to breathe loudly, afraid of disturbing the two.

Zabini only shut up when Daphne ran back.

You can ask questions anytime, but if you offend "Sister-in-law," you'll never be able to stay in Slytherin again.

"What did Professor McGonagall say?" Tom asked with a smile, looking at Daphne's flushed face.

The little witch waved her hand, panting, and said, "It's nothing. Professor McGonagall told Astoria to wait over there for the new students to participate in the Sorting Ceremony, so she sent me back first."

As she spoke, her little face fell, looking miserable, "Astoria is fine, but I haven't finished my Transfiguration homework yet, so I have to stay up all night again tonight!"

"Tom, give me two more Wit-Sharpening Potion, or I definitely won't be able to hold on!"

"Okay, if all else fails, I'll have your roommate write something for you," Tom said casually.

Bodesi and two other girls standing nearby were almost in tears. They hadn't finished their homework either, and no one cared about them!

On the other side, at the Gryffindor table, several Weasley looked gloomy, each one like a wilted eggplant.

They had seen Harry and Ron driving that flying car from the train, and now they were not only worried about the two boys' safety, but also afraid of implicating their father.

Mr. Weasley is the head of the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office at the Ministry of Magic, yet his own son drives a modified Muggle car recklessly.

Being expelled is a minor matter; if you really investigate, they might even end up in Azkaban.

If Mr. Weasley goes in, their family will be devastated.

The group could only pray silently that no one saw the flying car and that it didn't cause Muggle riots.

Unbeknownst to them, the Daily Prophet had already published a supplement, and six or seven Muggle had reported it to the police.

The Ministry of Magic's emergency response team was already overwhelmed and cleaning up messes everywhere.

After a while, the professors entered one after another.

This year's Professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts Gilderoy Lockhart.

Wearing a flamboyant light green robe, he swayed as he sat down in the High Table, causing an instant uproar in the Great Hall.

Lockhart grinned broadly, waving at the four long tables and shouting, "You can line up for autographs after the dinner!"

They treated the opening ceremony like a fan meeting, and quite a few young wizards actually fell for it, their eyes shining and them squealing softly.

Professor McGonagall walked in with a stern face and a menacing air, carrying a high stool and the Sorting Hat.

The Great Hall fell silent instantly, the young wizards all trembling with fear.

Professor McGonagall was furious; in the past, it was always the students who caused trouble after the start of the semester.

Now look what's happened! They've already caused a huge mess before school even starts! Driving across the British Isles—how dare these two kids do that?!

She just wanted to finish the Sorting Ceremony as soon as possible, then go find Harry and Ron and let them taste the lion's wrath.

Seeing Professor McGonagall's expression, Tom felt a chill run down his spine.

He's not even that afraid of Albus Dumbledore anymore. Dumbledore is easy to control and tolerant; as long as you don't do anything too extreme, he won't really get angry.

But the head of the teaching department's authority was far more terrifying than the principal's; McGonagall was an absolutely qualified teacher.

She always had a reason for reprimanding students, and her intentions were always for the students' good. Anyone with a conscience would feel guilty.