The Start-of-Term Feast

There were too many people here. Setting aside Hogwarts's other professors, at the very least, the Heads of House and Dumbledore were all powerful wizards.

Not to mention that noseless parasite was probably hiding behind someone's head, barely clinging to life.

Vaughn glanced at the staff table and immediately spotted the man with a purple turban wrapped around his head.

It wasn't the right time to claim the reward. He would wait until he was alone!

With a thought, he closed the system panel and ignored the pointing fingers and whispers throughout the Great Hall as he sauntered over to the Slytherin table.

Thud!

The loud sound silenced the Great Hall for a moment. It was Draco Malfoy. His already pale face had turned a sickly blue-white. He scrambled to his feet in embarrassment, not daring to look at Vaughn. His robes trembled as he tried to flee toward the other end of the table.

"Hi, Draco!"

Draco's back stiffened. He slowly turned around. "W-W-W-Weasley... sir..."

"You can call me Vaughn. We'll be in the same house from now on, so please take care of me."

Vaughn patted him on the shoulder, making him jolt. He tried to force a smile, but his facial muscles refused to cooperate. His expression twisted into something uglier than a cry.

Vaughn then looked at Crabbe and Goyle beside him. Those two stupid cowards had buried their heads in the table, their teeth chattering as they shook.

At that moment, seemingly unable to stand it any longer, an older student with a badge marked with a P on his chest leaned over and rebuked him in a low voice. "Hey, Weasley brat, get back to your seat. Don't make trouble for me!"

Vaughn gave his tall, burly frame and indescribable face a careful look, then replied with a smile, "All right, Prefect."

The prefect nodded in satisfaction. To reward Vaughn for his obedience, he took the lead in applauding as a welcome.

The other Slytherin students at the table exchanged looks, but they gave the prefect some face and clapped halfheartedly, "welcoming" this red-haired Weasley, a traitor to the pure-blood families!

Vaughn didn't care. Smiling, he sat down beside Malfoy.

The applause from the Slytherin table finally kept the atmosphere from growing any more awkward. Professor McGonagall cleared her throat and said:

"Ahem, silence! The Sorting Ceremony will continue!"

Nothing else unexpected happened after that. The Sorting Ceremony quickly came to an end. Dumbledore, who seemed entirely unaffected, rose to give a thoroughly incomprehensible speech before announcing the start of the feast.

In an instant, the long tables were piled high with food.

Of course, there wasn't actually much variety. The meat dishes were fairly plentiful, but the staples were painfully monotonous.

Potatoes, and more potatoes. After eating them for so many years, Vaughn felt sick just looking at them.

"Dear Draco, I think Professor McGonagall was right. Since we've been sorted into the same house, we should be like family."

Vaughn picked up a roasted lamb chop, something he had loved even in his previous life. Slowly gnawing on it, he said, "So I've decided to forgive your offense on the train. Let's get along happily from now on, all right?"

"..."

Was that really what had happened?

Malfoy's eyes went blank. For some reason, everything before him seemed to darken. Looking at the feast spread before him, he wanted to gorge himself until he forgot certain things—preferably until he was so stuffed he couldn't take it anymore, then go back to sleep and wake up to find that everything had been a nightmare!

Unfortunately...

"Draco, pass me the pudding."

"Mmm, authentic Yorkshire flavor. I like it. Draco, pass me the lamb chops."

"Huh? You're not eating? Potatoes can make you happy, Draco. Don't keep such a long face—smile!"

"Look, Draco, you're so popular that even the Slytherin ghost wants to sit beside you... Mr. Ghost, what should I call you?"

The newly arrived ghost was covered in blood, with a vacant expression and an icy, gloomy air. "Baron..."

It was only one short word, yet every bit of it seemed drenched in the stench of blood.

Malfoy, his stomach stuffed full of potatoes, could no longer hold it in. He clapped a hand over his mouth and sprinted for the side door of the Great Hall—the one leading to the washrooms.

By the time the feast ended, Malfoy returned looking utterly drained. His complexion was now nearly a match for the ghost's.

The male and female prefects of Slytherin were responsible for leading the new students to their dormitories. The male prefect was the same guy who had rebuked Vaughn earlier.

He had introduced himself, but Vaughn hadn't remembered his name.

Honestly, aside from Malfoy and Astoria Greengrass, who would not enroll until next year, Vaughn saw no need to remember any of the Slytherin students from the past few years.

Either there was something wrong with their brains, or they had been thoroughly brainwashed by their families, or their appearances were difficult to describe. Even in his previous life, when he read the novels, he had wondered what kind of crooked bunch Slytherin admitted!

That burly prefect with the unfortunate face led the first-years to the Slytherin common room—located underground, with the bottom of the Black Lake visible beyond its windows. It had a certain charm, though it also bore the nickname "the dungeon."

Perhaps because he had successfully stopped Vaughn at the feast earlier, the prefect felt rather pleased with himself. After routinely explaining the house rules in the common room, he gave Vaughn's shoulder a hard slap.

"Boy from the Weasley Family, I don't care what conflict you have with Malfoy, but in Slytherin, at Hogwarts, you must follow my rules. And I hope you'll show more respect to Malfoy. You're both pure-bloods, but the Weasley Family has long since—"

"Prefect."

Vaughn interrupted him with a smile. "Before you lecture me, I have a question I'd like to ask you. A question about a spell."

The prefect frowned. "Weasley, is this how your pauper parents taught you manners?"

"That spell is called—"

Vaughn raised his wand and looked at him coldly.

Only then did the prefect realize something was wrong and hurriedly drew his wand, just as the spell was about to leave his lips.

"Expelliarmus!"

Red light flashed!

The prefect's burly body was sent flying backward.

With a splat, he hit the enormous bay window that held back the lake water in the common room, then slowly slid down.

The first-year little snakes nearby, along with several upper-year students playing in the common room, stared in stunned disbelief.

They watched blankly as Vaughn followed up with a "Stupefy," completely knocking the prefect out, then nudged his head with his foot and searched his pockets for a piece of parchment.

Vaughn picked up the parchment listing the dormitory assignments and found his own name.

Then his calm gaze swept over the crowd before finally settling on Malfoy.

"Dear Draco, did you see what just happened?"

Malfoy shuddered violently and hurriedly said, "N-no?"

"No, that's not clever enough. You should say that this... whatever his name is, raised his wand and tried to attack me, and I was forced to fight back. Understand?"

Realization dawned on Malfoy, and he nodded repeatedly.

"Very good!" Vaughn's gaze swept over the crowd once more. His wand was still in his hand, and no one dared move recklessly.

He nodded in farewell. "That's it. Good night, gentlemen!"

With that, he left directly.