Hogwarts: I Obtained the Paternal System

The night before, she had coldly informed all the students that they had to gather in the Common Room at six-thirty.

Today, two students had arrived late.

She had harshly punished them with her wand.

The first-years were so frightened that they did not dare make a sound.

They had originally thought that since Darren had arrived so late, Miss Vole would definitely teach him a lesson.

The two of them might even get into a fight.

Who would have thought that she would simply change the gathering time from now on?

Although they could sleep in a little later in the future, everyone felt a surge of displeasure toward Darren.

Even if he was strong, he could not be this overbearing!

He got to take all the good things for himself.

He could have a dormitory all to himself, and he could even make the aloof Cassandra change the wake-up time. It was so unfair!

Darren immediately noticed the expressions of the students around him.

Huh?

Why did he feel that Miss Cassandra Vole was targeting him a little?

He did not believe that every Slytherin student was so disciplined that they had all risen this early and waited quietly here.

Unless someone had informed them the night before.

That was why Darren had seen such a shocking scene the moment he came out.

So the question was—

Why had no one informed him last night?

Even if the others were afraid of him, he did not think Miss Cassandra Vole was afraid of him.

So why had she not told him?

Even if he had gone to sleep early last night and Miss Cassandra had received no response when she knocked on his door, she could have knocked and woken him this morning. Why had she still not done so?

Miss Vole had deliberately made so many people wait for him to wake up, then changed the future wake-up time after he got up late.

She was practically inviting trouble for him!

However.

For a Paternal Saint like him, this was exactly the kind of trouble he wanted.

Last night, he had worried that after becoming stronger, no one would dare provoke him. Now, he felt unbelievably happy.

Of course, he needed to give Cassandra a small lesson.

[Ding, a situation where the Paternal System was in action has been detected near the host. A mission is now being issued:

Walk in front of everyone and say in a guilty tone: Sorry, it was my fault. Please do not change the time because of me. Next time, I will definitely keep up!]

[Ding, upon completing the mission, Spell Talent +2. Will the host accept the mission?]

[Accept!]

Although the reward this time was only talent points, it was just a few sentences. Darren did not find it difficult at all.

He blinked, walked before all the Slytherin first-years, lowered his head sincerely, and said in a guilty tone:

"Sorry, I didn't know everyone got up so early. I thought... I'm sorry.

Worey does not need to change the wake-up time because of me either. Next time, I will definitely keep up with the other students.

I feel deeply sorry for wasting everyone's time!"

The more he spoke, the sadder he became. His eyes gradually reddened, but he raised his head slightly and quietly forced the tears back.

Only the faint tremble in his voice revealed his unsettled emotions.

[Ding, mission completed. Congratulations to the host for obtaining Spell Talent +2.]

Darren lowered his head and happily accepted the reward.

On the surface, he still looked guilty, as though he could not bear having made such a terrible mistake.

This slightly eased the displeasure of the students who had resented him just moments ago.

They were not fools.

The Pure-blood families of Slytherin, even though they were still young, understood hidden meanings better than students from the other Houses.

This Potter seemed to have been set up.

Judging from Darren Potter's apology, the prefect had likely not informed him the night before.

But why had she not told him?

Could it have been just to make a fool of Potter?

Or was she targeting Darren Potter?

But no matter how she targeted him, how could she use them?

At that moment, every Slytherin present felt a trace of displeasure toward Cassandra.

This matter would not end so easily.

They would write home and tell their parents, hoping that this young prefect would not make such childish moves again!

Cassandra's Little Thought

Cassandra Vole did not know what kind of person she was.

Perhaps she herself was the most wicked person in the world?

Since childhood, she had enjoyed making others fall into arguments because of her. If they could start fighting, that would be even more of an achievement for her.

She liked it this way.

Before coming to Hogwarts, her reputation had already spread a little.

It stemmed from when she had been too young, when one or two unsuccessful acts of malice had made some people aware of her.

However, thanks to her family, even those who knew what kind of person she was did not dare say a single word against her.

An ancient family, beautiful looks, immense power—was she, Cassandra, not a cut above everyone else?

It was just that there were fewer and fewer interesting things in this world.

Cassandra always found it too boring.

She began to enjoy sleeping.

She would sleep alone in a corner, and as she slept, time would pass.

It had been the same on the way to school.

Until she heard a boy's voice on the Hogwarts Express.

"How about... I get off first?"

She had been a little annoyed. If he wanted to get off, then get off. Why did he have to raise his voice?

He had woken her up!

She had originally wanted to get up and throw a tantrum.

Who would have thought pretending to sleep had such benefits?

She heard a whole bunch of amusing topics.

Something about Malfoy's revenge.

Something about teaching that boy a lesson for shielding someone from a spell.

It had almost made her laugh herself to death.

What kind of idiotic behavior was that?

She let it go and forgave that idiot for waking her from her sleep.

Just as she was about to continue sleeping, she suddenly heard that stupid boy shout, "Senior, get down!"

The shout startled her.

Her body even trembled.

Then she opened her eyes and saw a red-haired boy covered in blood, collapsed on Becky.

She reflexively left the compartment. Only after reaching a safe place did she think back on what the boy had done.

Ah, had he shielded someone from a spell again?

No, it seemed he had blocked a bullet. It was a Muggle gun; she had played with one before.

He was not dead, was he?

She found the fellow strangely interesting.