Unity of Slytherin

After Hermione left, Tom led the Greengrass sisters toward the Slytherin Common Room.

The Slytherin Common Room was noisy, with most of the students gathered around discussing Tom beating Lockhart.

As soon as he pushed the door open and came in, everyone immediately stood up, and their voices surged forth.

"Tom, did Albus Dumbledore give you a hard time?"

"I told you the dean would be fine if he went with you; they can't really punish you!"

"Lockhart is a piece of trash, he deserved to be beaten up. Does he really think Slytherin is easy to bully?"

"Five thousand Galleon to buy Usachi? He must have got his head stuck in a door!"

Tom raised his hand to quiet the room, and once the lounge was completely silent, he glanced around at everyone and gave instructions to a few familiar young wizards in the front row.

"Go and fetch Carrow, Frye, and Marcus Flint. They'll wait for me here. I'll be right back after I take care of something." With that, he turned and went into the dormitory.

Zabini and his two companions were still joining in the fun in the lounge, while the dormitory room remained empty.

"Parla!" Tom called out, House-elf Parla appeared before him in an instant, accompanied by a soft popping sound.

"Young Master Riddle." Parla bowed slightly, extremely respectful.

Tom took out two pieces of parchment, tapped his wand, and magic flowed rapidly across the paper, quickly writing two letters.

One envelope was stuffed into an envelope bearing the Greengrass family crest, another into a gold-rimmed envelope, along with a "IChat" notebook, and finally sealed with an anti-tamper spell.

"This one is for Mrs. Greengrass, and ask her to send the other one to France. The magical aura on the envelopes will guide the owl to the right place."

"Yes, Master Riddle." Parla carefully took the envelope and vanished in an Apparition.

Tom sat on the bed for a moment, making sure he hadn't overlooked anything, before slowly returning to the lounge.

There were even more people in the lounge now than before, and all the people he had called out were present, their eyes gleaming with excitement, waiting for him to speak.

"Enough with the small talk, you all know what happened just now." Tom strode to his seat and sat down.

"Albus Dumbledore deducted 100 points from Slytherin. I'll earn those back sooner or later, but that's not the point."

"The point is, I've had enough of that old liar Lockhart."

He glanced at the crowd, a playful smile playing on his lips.

"Your families are either among the twenty-eight Pure-blood noble families, or your elders are top elites in the Wizarding World."

"To put it bluntly, the wealth of Slytherin is even greater than the Hogwarts treasury."

These words struck a nerve with everyone's pride, and many people subconsciously straightened their backs and raised their heads, putting on a reserved yet smug expression.

That's no exaggeration; Slytherin is like a top-tier conglomerate in the Muggle World.

Although few of their clansmen hold positions in the Ministry of Magic, they wield vast resources and can cause the Ministry of Magic considerable trouble with a mere whim.

Lucius Malfoy is the best example, except that others weren't as flamboyant as him.

"You've all seen Lockhart's performance this week; he's a complete waste of space."

Tom suddenly looked at Carrow, a fourth-grade boy, who was the Prefect brother of the seventh-grade prefect last year.

"Carrow, I heard you were forced to play the snowman in his class last week? How did it feel?"

Carrow shrugged, looking both helpless and amused. "I feel like I'm playing a troll, not a Troll."

"Otherwise, I wouldn't have just stood there dumbfounded, letting him chant the spell for fifteen seconds before finally hitting me."

The lounge erupted in laughter, and even the usually aloof Malfoy couldn't help but smirk.

"And you, Avery," Tom asked, looking at another boy and suppressing a laugh.

"I heard that on your Lockhart hobby test, you only guessed two questions correctly, and he publicly criticized you and deducted five points?"

Avery grinned menacingly, clenching his fists.

"Tom, you finally got my revenge today! I've been wanting to beat him up for days, but I never had the chance to be there!"

"It seems everyone harbors quite a grudge against Lockhart," Tom said, raising an eyebrow and his tone turning somber.

"Putting aside personal grudges, his teaching level is so bad that he's only ruining your future."

"Especially the fifth and seventh graders, you've had a really bad year."

"The exam administration doesn't care about your professors' level; they only set questions according to the Ministry of Magic's standards."

"Even if you fail the exam, no matter how strong your family connections are, you still need to have a respectable report card, right?"

Upon hearing this, the faces of the fifth and seventh graders instantly fell.

That's right. Even if your family can pull strings, if you don't have real talent and your grades aren't impressive, you won't be able to make a living in the Wizarding World.

It seems like Defense Against the Dark Arts is completely useless this year; I'll have to rely on my own hard work to overcome it.

"I'm not going to beat around the bush with you." Tom stood up, gripping the armrest of his chair, his eyes sharpening.

"I don't want to see this clown at Hogwarts anymore, for my own sake and for your studies. He has to get out."

He paused, his voice laced with incitement. "I've been a student for two years now, and look at the kind of people Albus Dumbledore has chosen as professors!"

"Quirrell is a dark wizard, Lockhart is a fraud, how have you managed to tolerate this until now?"

"Now, it's time for Albus Dumbledore and the Ministry of Magic to remember the power of Slytherin!"

"Anyone willing to work with me to take down Lockhart, write home now and have your elders put pressure on the Ministry of Magic."

"Just contacting the school won't work. Albus Dumbledore is best at playing both sides. He'll only take it seriously if the Ministry of Magic puts pressure on him."

A fleeting, dragon-shaped phantom, crackling with tiny arcs of electricity, flashed in Tom's pupils, and his tone turned cold.

"If you're unwilling, then we're enemies from now on. Don't give me any leverage over you. I may not be good at much else, but I have a great memory."

"Even ten or twenty years from now, I will remember clearly who helped me and who opposed me."

Several Slytherin students who secretly resented Tom felt a sudden tightness in their chests.

I felt like Tom's gaze had been fixed on me, and I didn't even dare to breathe.

"I'll go write a letter to my grandfather right now!" Rosier was the first to jump up, afraid of being a step too late.

"Me too!" Zabini and Malfoy said in unison, then glared at each other fiercely, neither willing to back down, afraid of being overshadowed.

Following suit, Nott, Avery, Marcus Flint, Carrow, Parkinson, and others all chimed in.

In an instant, voices of approval swept through the entire lounge.

Given the prevailing trend, even if some people were unhappy, they wouldn't dare to openly oppose Tom.

As for those who try to pull tricks behind the scenes, that's easy to handle. Just have Mrs. Greengrass investigate at the Ministry of Magic.

Let's see who hasn't sent a complaint letter. There are only so many people in Slytherin; it'll be a piece of cake to find out.