"Slytherin!"
The Sorting Hat shouted.
A sparse round of applause came from one of the long tables.
Clearly, they weren't very interested in a young wizard who didn't come from one of the 28 Pure-blood families.
Devero just froze.
Wait.
I haven't even put it on yet!
Isn't the Sorting Hat going to deliberate a little?
I'm a one-of-a-kind super genius in the Wizarding World!
Am I not brave? Not loyal?
Uh.
I guess I really am not very loyal.
But it could at least consider what the student wants, right?
I don't want to sleep in the dungeons for seven years!!
Professor McGonagall took off the Sorting Hat.
She gently pushed Devero on the back.
The push jolted him out of his despair.
Devero stiffly stood up from the tall stool.
His legs felt as heavy as lead.
He took hesitant steps.
Slowly, he walked toward the Slytherin table.
At the Slytherin table,
the students watched him expressionlessly.
There was curiosity in their eyes,
but mostly indifference.
As if they were waiting for a new student to join them,
but didn't expect much.
Devero didn't care about their indifference.
His heart was simply full of despair about his future life at the school.
"Hey, welcome to Slytherin. I'm Marcus Flint, the Prefect."
Devero was suddenly spoken to.
He turned his head.
A tall, muscular boy stood there,
with short, dark brown hair and sharp blue eyes.
A confident, slightly arrogant smile played on his face.
"Uh, hello. My name is Devero Alexander."
Devero nodded, somewhat hesitantly.
Marcus smiled and leaned down.
"You could use the Disarming Charm so skillfully before even starting school. That's impressive, Devero."
"Even in Slytherin, your command of spells is excellent! I bet plenty of third-years wouldn't stand a chance against you in a duel."
Surprisingly,
Marcus didn't seem to hold Devero's actions at the station against him.
On the contrary, he was quite friendly toward him.
He was very different from the other Slytherins.
"Um, thanks. I'm not that good, really. I'm definitely not as good with spells as the third-year students."
Devero wasn't so flattered that he lost his wits.
He remained quite modest.
He also copied Marcus's blue trait.
"Don't be modest. Modesty isn't a good quality if you want to earn respect in Slytherin, especially when it comes to... Well, you know."
Marcus spoke cryptically.
Devero understood at once.
Marcus was obviously talking about bloodlines and families.
Indeed.
Judging by the Slytherins' attitude just now,
it was clear
they had probably also heard that Devero had defeated Malfoy with Expelliarmus.
But they still didn't think much of him.
Some of them might even deliberately snub him because of Malfoy.
In that case,
if Devero wanted to avoid being picked on by all sorts of people in the future,
he'd have to show them what he could do.
Devero's sharp gaze swept over every Slytherin.
Most of them looked indifferent.
Only Marcus seemed fairly friendly.
And then there was Malfoy, who was openly hostile toward him.
"Is this what dealing with the nobility is like? Hah. Looks like before I can study Transfiguration further, I'll have to sort out my relationships with people."
A cold glint flashed in Devero's eyes.
"So what should I do? Can we duel within Slytherin?"
Devero asked Marcus, brimming with fighting spirit.
Marcus was stumped by the question.
"Duel? What kind of duel?"
Devero froze.
Uh.
In all those fanfics from my previous life,
didn't they say the Slytherin Prefects were chosen through duels between students in different years?
"We don't judge someone's worth in Slytherin by dueling. What era do you think this is? The war ended a long time ago."
Devero felt like smacking his forehead.
He'd just exposed his natural urge to charge headfirst into a fight.
Fanfiction really is harmful!!
Marcus gave him a peculiar look.
"When I said not to be modest, I meant you should work hard and achieve something in your studies. You have a good foundation in spells, so put some effort into that. If you can get the highest overall marks in your year, Slytherin will reward you."
A reward?
Devero's ears perked up at that.
"May I ask what this so-called reward is?"
Devero pressed him for an answer.
"It lets first-years go to places in Hogwarts that they normally can't visit."
A mysterious smile crossed Marcus's face.
Places they weren't allowed to go!?
Then Devero absolutely had to go!
This was a big deal for his exploration progress!
Devero was immediately fired up.
"Fine, Prefect. Then I'll be top of the year!"
Devero thumped his chest as he made the promise.
Pfft.
At his words,
Malfoy, sitting across from him, burst out laughing.
Quite a few other Slytherins joined in.
"Oh, wow, Alexander the Frenchman wants to be top of the year? That's really possible—if he can recognize all the letters in the English alphabet."
Malfoy spoke in an extremely exaggerated tone.
His two lackeys laughed along with him.
Quite a few Slytherins joined in as well.
Even though they probably didn't think the joke was funny.
"A bunch of bootlickers."
Devero glanced at those people, who were laughing along.
He silently added them to his blacklist.
Of course, Devero didn't care about the joke at all.
He didn't think of himself as French.
So this tasteless joke couldn't hurt him in the slightest.
Seeing that Devero's expression hadn't changed,
Malfoy's laughter gradually faltered.
His gaze grew increasingly hostile.
"By the way, Devero, your surname sounds French, doesn't it? Why aren't you studying at Beauxbatons?"
Marcus hadn't laughed either.
To change the subject,
he casually pretended to ask Devero about something else.
"Well, actually, my mother entrusted me to..."
"Woohoo!"
"We've got Potter!!"
Clatter, clatter!!
Before Devero could explain that he was Snape's Potions apprentice,
a sudden cheer erupted from another long table.
It was accompanied by loud slaps on the table and stamping feet.
Harry Potter had been sorted into Gryffindor.
Devero didn't bring it up again.
Marcus didn't seem very interested in the matter either.
So they continued talking about other things.
For example, the layout of Hogwarts, which Devero was most curious about.
Just then, the last Beauxbatons student, Blaise Zabini, was sorted into Slytherin.
Professor McGonagall rolled up the parchment,
picked up the Sorting Hat, and left.
At that moment,
the most powerful figure in the original story,
the most inscrutable and flamboyantly smiling man,
stood up.
Albus Dumbledore!
He spread his arms and said,
"Welcome to Hogwarts for a new school year! Before the feast begins, I'd like to say a few words. And here they are: 'Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!' Thank you!"
He sat down again.
Everyone applauded and cheered,
including the Slytherin students.
It was clear that they respected powerful wizards.
Next came the opening feast, which Devero had been eagerly anticipating!
He dared say it was the best dinner he'd ever had...
If Snape hadn't dragged him away halfway through.
Before you continue