The Dungeon Illusion (I)

The stone steps of Hogwarts Castle seemed never-ending.

Su Yu followed in the middle of the group, inching upward one step at a time. The stairs beneath his feet had been worn smooth and gleaming by centuries of footsteps, while the torches along the walls swayed gently in the night wind, stretching everyone's shadows long and crooked. Right now, Su Yu only wanted to sit down as soon as possible, preferably in a soft chair with a backrest.

"We're almost there," Hermione said, turning around from two steps ahead of him. She lowered her voice, but she could not hide the excitement in her tone. "I read about it in a book. The castle's Great Hall is at the top of the hill, and after entering through the main gates, you have to—"

"Hermione," Su Yu interrupted weakly, "could you save some energy until we get into the Great Hall?"

Hermione opened her mouth as if she wanted to argue, but in the end, she merely huffed and turned back around to keep climbing.

The Nine-Tailed Fox gave a satisfied hum from within his soul space. "Finally, some peace and quiet. I suggest you carry a roll of tape with you from now on and seal that mouth of hers shut."

Su Yu did not respond.

At last, the group reached the stone platform before the castle's main entrance.

Su Yu followed the others into the entrance hall. Before he had the chance to properly take in his surroundings, he spotted a figure ahead.

Professor McGonagall stood before a huge oak door—the door leading to the Great Hall. She wore emerald-green robes, her black hair pulled tightly into a bun, and her stern expression looked as though it had been carved from stone. A roll of parchment rested in her hand as her gaze swept across every first-year's face, as though she were inventorying a newly delivered batch of goods.

"First," Professor McGonagall's voice echoed through the entrance hall, clear and firm, without a trace of unnecessary embellishment, "welcome to Hogwarts. The start-of-term feast will begin shortly, but before that, you will be sorted into your respective Houses."

She paused, her gaze slowly traveling over the crowd.

"Hogwarts has four Houses—Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. During your time at Hogwarts, outstanding conduct will earn points for your House, while any violation of school rules will cost your House points. At the end of the year, the House with the highest score will win the House Cup. It is a great honor. I hope every one of you will bring glory to your House."

"The Sorting Ceremony will begin shortly," Professor McGonagall said. "Please wait here for a moment. I need to enter the hall first and make sure the Sorting Hat is ready."

She turned and pushed open the huge oak doors. The instant they opened, Su Yu vaguely glimpsed the four long House tables inside the Great Hall and the hundreds of students seated beside them. Then Professor McGonagall walked inside, and the doors slowly closed behind her. The entrance hall fell quiet once more.

Su Yu leaned against a stone pillar in the entrance hall, his hands tucked into his pockets as he idly observed the other first-years. Nervousness was written across most of their faces—some bit their lips, some kept rubbing their hands together, and some muttered under their breath as if reciting spells. Hermione stood beside him, and the book in her hands had already been wrinkled by her grip.

Just then, a voice drifted from the crowd.

"There are only so many wizards in all of England, right?"

The voice carried an inborn arrogance, as though it had been snorted out through someone's nose. Following the sound, Su Yu saw a pale blond boy standing at the edge of the crowd. His chin was slightly raised, and a half-smile curled at his lips. Two broad, burly boys stood beside him, one on either side, like walls of flesh.

It was Draco Malfoy. The kind of person who wanted to slap a label reading "I'm important" right onto his forehead wherever he went.

Malfoy's gaze passed through the crowd and landed on Harry. He strode toward him, with Crabbe and Goyle following behind like two loyal hounds.

"Harry Potter," Malfoy said as he stopped in front of Harry. "I'm Draco Malfoy."

Ron stood beside Harry, his nose wrinkling slightly. He gave a soft cough, as though reminding Harry of something.

Malfoy's eyes immediately shifted toward Ron. They narrowed, and the curve of his lips sharpened into a line.

"Red hair. Hand-me-down robes." Malfoy's voice turned cold. "I don't think I even need to ask your name. My father told me all the Weasleys have red hair, freckles all over their faces, and so many children they can't afford to feed them."

Ron's face turned awkward. His fists clenched, and his lips pressed into a thin line.

Malfoy had already turned back toward Harry. The arrogance spread over his face again as he extended a hand.

"You'll soon find out," Malfoy told Harry, with an almost charitable sincerity in his voice, "that some wizarding families are far nobler than others. You wouldn't want to make friends with the wrong sort, would you? I can help you with that."

His eyes flicked toward Ron before returning, the curve of his mouth perfectly conveying everything he meant by "the wrong sort."

Harry looked at Malfoy. His expression was calm.

"I think," Harry replied coldly, "I can tell for myself who the wrong sort is. Thanks."

Malfoy's mouth twitched. He had clearly not expected that answer. But seeing Harry together with a Weasley shattered whatever image he had built up of Harry as a savior or Dark Lord. He snorted coldly, then turned and walked away with Crabbe and Goyle.

Leaning against the stone pillar, Su Yu watched the entire scene unfold. The corners of his mouth lifted slightly—not because Harry had rejected Malfoy, but because the whole thing struck him as oddly absurd. A young master had grown up listening to the story of some poor commoner, so when he met that commoner, he wanted to befriend him. He delivered a lofty speech full of pretty words, only for the commoner to remember the humiliation of being bullied by people just like that young master and refuse even to shake his hand. As for Malfoy insulting Hagrid and Ron—Su Yu figured that, in a young master's world, that probably did not even count as anything significant. He had mocked plenty of people. Who were Hagrid and Ron to him? To Malfoy, it was merely part of everyday social interaction, as natural as breathing.

At that thought, he chuckled.

It was not loud, but in the quiet entrance hall, it was clear enough.

Malfoy's head snapped around. His gray eyes pinned Su Yu like twin blades before swiftly sweeping over Hermione and Neville beside him.

"Never seen you before," Malfoy said softly, every word seemingly squeezed through clenched teeth. "Probably a Mudblood."

He lifted his chin higher, and the curve of his mouth became one of lofty contempt.

"A filthy Mudblood," Malfoy said slowly, as though afraid Su Yu would not understand, "dares to laugh at me?"

Hermione's expression changed. She might not have fully understood what "Mudblood" meant, but she understood "filthy," and she understood every bit of meaning in his tone. Her hand tightened, and her mouth opened. Like a kitten whose tail had been stepped on, all her fur bristled as she prepared to pounce.

Su Yu reached out before she could speak.

He wrapped one arm around Hermione's shoulders and pulled her into his embrace. Her body stiffened—she was in the middle of her anger, every muscle taut as a bowstring—but Su Yu's other hand gently patted her back, as if soothing the fur of an enraged kitten.

"Alright, alright," Su Yu said quietly, his voice lazy and coaxing, like he was pacifying a child. "Don't be angry. Don't be angry."

Hermione struggled in his arms, still muttering something—probably things like "How dare he?" and "I'll show him"—but Su Yu did not loosen his hold. He kept her enclosed in the crook of his arm, like an unhurried wall that kept her anger inside and Malfoy's gaze outside.

The Nine-Tailed Fox gave an unreadable hum in his soul space. "So your way of handling this is to pick her up and hold her?"

"If it works, it works," Su Yu replied inwardly.

"She isn't your cheesecake. You can't just hug her and expect her to calm down."

"Shut up."

Hermione's struggle slowly ceased. Her face was still red, but the reason seemed to have changed from anger into something else. She lowered her head, buried her face against the collar of Su Yu's robes, and said nothing more.

A hand landed on Malfoy's shoulder.

Malfoy turned around and saw Professor McGonagall's expressionless face. His complexion changed slightly, and he quickly took a step back, retreating to the edge of the crowd with Crabbe and Goyle.

Professor McGonagall said nothing. She merely gave Malfoy a glance before turning toward all the first-years.

"Follow me," she said. "The Sorting Ceremony is about to begin."

She pushed open the huge oak doors.

The Great Hall appeared before them all.

And the most astonishing thing was the Great Hall's ceiling.

It was a deep indigo night sky strewn with stars, some bright and some dim. Every now and then, a shooting star streaked past, leaving a silver trail across the heavens.

Hermione stood beside Su Yu with her mouth slightly open and her eyes wide.

"That's fake," she whispered near Su Yu's ear, unable to hide her urgency to share what she knew. "I read about it in a book. The hall's ceiling has been enchanted to reflect the sky outside. It's—"

"Really?" Su Yu lowered his head to look at her, putting on an exaggerated expression of surprise. "Miss Hermione? You're incredible! You even know details like that?"

Hermione's words caught in her throat.

Her face flushed bright red—this time, truly red.

"You—you already knew!" Hermione mumbled, embarrassed and annoyed. "You know everything, and you still—"

"I don't know anything," Su Yu said, dropping the exaggerated expression as a lazy smile tugged at his mouth. "You're the one who knows everything. I'm just someone who can't even tell left from right."

Hermione's face reddened further. She turned away and stopped looking at him, but she could not keep the corners of her mouth from rising.

Professor McGonagall placed a battered pointed hat on a stool. It was patched and grimy, utterly out of place amid the Great Hall's splendor. Then—a slit opened in the hat, as though an invisible pair of scissors had cut a mouth into its brim—and it began to sing.

Su Yu did not listen carefully to the song. He watched everyone else's expressions instead. Hermione listened with rapt attention, her lips moving slightly as though memorizing the lyrics. Neville stood beside him, gripping the hem of his robes tightly, his face full of nerves.

The Sorting Hat finished its song. Sparse applause rose through the Great Hall.

Professor McGonagall unrolled the parchment in her hand.

"When I call your name, you will come forward," her voice echoed through the Great Hall. "The Sorting Hat will tell you which House you belong to."

She cleared her throat.

"Hannah Abbott—"

A rosy-cheeked girl stepped out of the crowd and stumbled onto the stool. The Sorting Hat dropped onto her head, hesitated for a moment, then shouted, "HUFFLEPUFF!"

The Hufflepuff table erupted into enthusiastic applause. Hannah Abbott smiled and ran over.

One name after another was called. Su Yu stood amid the crowd with his hands in his pockets, waiting patiently. When Harry stepped forward, every gaze in the Great Hall focused on him.

"GRYFFINDOR!" the Sorting Hat shouted.

The Gryffindor table exploded. The Weasley twins leaped to their feet and cheered loudly, Percy Weasley clapped with restrained dignity, and Ron wore a relieved smile. Harry removed the Sorting Hat and walked toward the Gryffindor table, his steps much lighter than before.

The names continued. Su Yu watched one first-year after another step forward and get sorted into different Houses. Hermione was sorted into Gryffindor—she sat on the stool for a long time while the Sorting Hat hesitated over her head—and Neville was sorted into Gryffindor as well. He nearly forgot he was still wearing the hat, and when he ran toward the table, he almost tripped over his robes. But the Gryffindors welcomed him with warm applause.

Su Yu kept waiting.

Another name. Another. Another.

His had still not been called.

Su Yu frowned. He glanced at the parchment in Professor McGonagall's hand—it did not look short, and it was densely packed with names—but he had seen Harry, Hermione, Neville, even Ron and Malfoy. They had all been called already.

His frown deepened. Wasn't it sorted alphabetically?

Professor McGonagall finished calling the names.

She flipped the parchment to the front, then to the back, then back to the front again. Her brows furrowed—only slightly.

Then everyone's gaze turned toward Su Yu.

The Great Hall fell silent. Hundreds of eyes stared at him—some curious, some sympathetic, some gleeful at his misfortune, and some simply eager for a show. Surrounded by all those stares, Su Yu stood in the middle of the crowd without any change in expression.

He did not have some fearless social confidence. He was merely wondering whether these people could stop being so noisy.

"What?" Su Yu muttered inwardly. "On the first day of school, I've already been isolated by the entire school?"

The Nine-Tailed Fox laughed so hard in his soul space that she practically doubled over. Her nine tails swished wildly as her laughter echoed through Su Yu's mind.

"Oh dear," the Nine-Tailed Fox laughed so hard she could barely form complete sentences. "Oh dear, it looks like nobody wants you. Why don't you—why don't you let me out—I'll eat everyone here—and then this school will be yours—what do you think?"

A dark line appeared across Su Yu's face.

"Can you be serious for once?"

"I am serious," the Nine-Tailed Fox said. Her laughter finally eased somewhat, though her tone was still full of schadenfreude.

"Shut up."

"Every time you tell me to shut up is when you need me most."

Su Yu did not reply. His gaze shifted back toward the teachers' table.

At the teachers' table, Dumbledore rose to his feet.

He moved slowly, slowly enough for everyone to see the entire process of him standing. His silver beard shimmered faintly in the candlelight, and behind his half-moon spectacles, his blue eyes were calm and deep.

"Yu-Su-Fuli," Dumbledore's voice echoed through the Great Hall, warm and clear. "You have been sorted into Slytherin."

Su Yu froze for a moment.

"No need for the Sorting Hat," Dumbledore continued, a meaningful smile appearing at the corner of his mouth. "You may go directly to your table."

Su Yu looked at Dumbledore. Dumbledore looked at him. The two held each other's gaze for around two seconds.

Su Yu seemed to hear what Dumbledore was saying inwardly—I don't want that demon fox eating the Sorting Hat.

Su Yu shrugged. He stepped out from the crowd and headed toward the Slytherin table.

Hermione had been watching Su Yu from the Gryffindor table. Now that she saw he had a House, the worry on her face turned into relief. Neville, seated beside her, also let out a long breath.

As Su Yu reached the Slytherin table and was about to sit down, a hand stopped him.

"Wait."

The voice was icy, like water seeping from cracks in dungeon stones. Su Yu raised his head and saw an older boy—a seventh-year, judging from the prefect badge on his robes.

Cedrian Evanwood. Slytherin's seventh-year prefect.

Cedrian's voice was not loud, but it was enough for everyone at the Slytherin table to hear. "You're a half-blood. It isn't as though Slytherin has never accepted half-bloods, but one half is pure-blood, and the other half..." The corner of his mouth rose slightly, as though tasting food that was not quite fresh. "What is the other half? Who knows?"

He turned to look at the others seated at the Slytherin table. Slytherin had half-blood wizards, but that did not mean just any half-blood could come in.

"Slytherin," he said, his voice carrying the solemnity of a speech, "will not allow some mongrel half-blood of unknown origins to enter. This is our House's rule. This is our tradition. This is our—"

He did not finish. Because several others had stood up as well.

A fifth-year boy, a sixth-year girl, and another seventh-year girl—they were all prefects, as anyone could tell from their badges and the way they rose. They stood beside Cedrian, their faces sharing the same pride that had been carefully preserved for centuries.

"Professor," Cedrian said, turning toward the teachers' table. His tone was respectful but firm. "We find Professor Dumbledore's arrangement inappropriate. Slytherin's position as a pure-blood fortress has already fallen, though that was Salazar Slytherin's own wish. But we still cannot accept an Eastern mongrel coming into Slytherin."

"Our pride as pure-bloods," another prefect took over, her voice carrying an unquestionable resolve, "will never bow."

Low voices of agreement rose around the Slytherin table. Several younger students also stood up, their expressions a mixture of excitement and anxiety.

The atmosphere in the Great Hall instantly became tense.

Dumbledore sat at the teachers' table, his blue eyes calmly observing everything behind his half-moon spectacles. He did not speak. He merely looked at Cedrian, then at Su Yu, and then—the corners of his mouth lifted in an almost imperceptible smile.

"Yu-Su-Fuli," Dumbledore's voice rang out through the Great Hall, "don't you wish to defend yourself?"

All eyes turned back toward Su Yu.

Su Yu raised his head.

His expression was calm and indifferent. He looked at Dumbledore, then at Cedrian and the prefects standing beside him, the corner of his mouth rising slightly.

"Defend myself against what?" he asked lazily. "Tell them that where I come from, only dogs care about bloodlines?"

He smiled. It was a faint smile, but for some reason, several people by the Slytherin table changed expression.

"Heh," Su Yu's voice lowered, as though speaking to himself. "But I don't want to explain anything. Right now, I only want to kill—"

"Enough!"

Dumbledore's voice suddenly rose by a degree—only one, but enough to suppress every whisper in the Great Hall. The warm smile remained on his face, but his blue eyes held an unyielding firmness.

"This was decided after discussion by the Board of Governors," Dumbledore said, his voice returning to its unhurried rhythm. "Su Fuli's bloodline is not an issue. It is settled."

His gaze swept over Cedrian's face, then over the faces of the prefects who had stood, before finally falling across the entire Slytherin table. His gaze was not harsh, yet everyone he looked at unconsciously sat back down.

Cedrian stood there with his lips pressed into a thin line. His fists clenched, loosened, then clenched again. He wanted to say something—Su Yu could see it, whatever he wanted to say went around in his throat several times—but in the end, he merely nodded slightly and sat down.

Su Yu sat beside a girl.

The atmosphere in the Great Hall gradually returned to normal. Su Yu sat at the Slytherin table, idly watching everything before him. At the Gryffindor table, Hermione was looking his way with concern written all over her face. Neville was looking too, though his expression held more confusion. Harry and Ron were talking with their heads lowered, not noticing him.

Su Yu gave Hermione a slight nod. Her expression relaxed a little, and she turned back around.

Dumbledore stood up. The buzzing in the Great Hall gradually quieted.

"Before we all enjoy the feast," Dumbledore's voice echoed through the Great Hall, carrying both an elder's composure and a childlike mischief, "I have a few words to say."

He cleared his throat.

"And they are—Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!"

"Dig in!"

He sat down.

Laughter and applause rose in the Great Hall. Su Yu heard Hermione let out a helpless yet amused sigh at the Gryffindor table, while Ron beside her laughed so hard he nearly doubled over.

Dinner began. Food appeared out of thin air on golden plates—roast beef, fried chicken legs, shepherd's pie, peppermint humbugs, buttery mashed potatoes. The aroma filled the Great Hall. Su Yu put a piece of beef onto his plate and took a bite. The Nine-Tailed Fox critically commented on every dish in his soul space before reaching her conclusion: none of it was as good as cheesecake.

The girl beside Su Yu introduced herself as well. "Daphne Greengrass, same year as you. Su Yu, you need to be careful. Those prefects definitely won't let this go. If they really make a move, I'll hurry and report it to the professors so they can save you. Don't worry." Su Yu did not take it to heart. He thanked her and continued eating. Seeing that Su Yu was distracted, Daphne said nothing more. When they returned to the dormitory later, she could only keep an eye out herself and quickly fetch a professor if things looked bad.

After dinner, Dumbledore stood again and said a few more things—students were not permitted to enter the Forbidden Forest, the right-hand side of the fourth-floor corridor was also forbidden ("unless you wished to die a very painful death, though that was merely my advice"), and Quidditch tryouts would begin in the second week. Then he cleared his throat once more.

"Finally, before everyone returns to their common rooms, let us sing the school song together."

Su Yu's mouth twitched.

Dumbledore waved his wand, and a golden ribbon floated from its tip, twisting through the air into lines of words. Everyone began singing. Some chose one tune, while others chose another, turning the entire Great Hall into a pot of thoroughly mangled porridge. The Weasley twins sang the entire song at the pace of a funeral march, while Su Yu kept his mouth shut the whole time and pretended to be a statue.

The Nine-Tailed Fox laughed so hard in his soul space that she nearly rolled off her chakra.

"Your school song," she said between broken bursts of laughter, "your school song is even harder to swallow than your pepper soup—"

The school song ended. Dumbledore waved his wand, and the golden ribbons dissolved into the air. Students from every House began to rise and follow their prefects back to their common rooms.

"Slytherin, follow me." Cedrian's voice came from up ahead. He stood, did not so much as glance at Su Yu, and turned toward a small door on the right side of the Great Hall. The Slytherin students rose one after another and followed behind him.

Su Yu got to his feet, brushed nonexistent breadcrumbs from his robes, and leisurely joined the line.

Hermione turned back from within the Gryffindor line and waved at him. Su Yu waved back, then followed the Slytherins through the small door.

Beyond the door lay a stone staircase that descended, growing narrower and darker the farther it went. There were fewer and fewer torches along the walls, while the air became damper and colder. At the bottom of the stairs was a corridor with rough stone walls.

Su Yu walked at the very back of the group.

"We're here." Cedrian stopped in front of a damp stone wall.

"The password for the next two weeks is—'Mudblood'! Remember it!"

He turned toward the stone wall and spoke the password. A crack silently opened in the wall, which then slowly slid apart to reveal a spacious, low-ceilinged underground chamber.

The Slytherin common room.

Su Yu walked inside and looked around. The ceiling was low, but the room was vast, bathed in an eerie green glow—the light filtering through a huge window on one side of the common room from the waters of the Black Lake. The water drifted slowly past outside, and the occasional fish swam by, casting a blurred shadow against the window. Dark green tapestries and silver ornaments adorned the walls, while the fire in the fireplace burned brightly.

"First-years," Cedrian stood in the center of the common room, his voice especially loud beneath the low ceiling, "come with me. I'll assign your rooms."

Su Yu followed the group across the common room and into an even narrower corridor. Closed doors lined both sides, each bearing a differently colored plaque with the names of students from different years.

Cedrian assigned rooms one by one. Each time he called a name, a first-year was directed to a door and pushed it open to enter. Su Yu stood at the end of the corridor, watching as fewer and fewer people remained around him.

In the end, he was the only one left.

Cedrian turned around and looked at Su Yu. His face was expressionless, but there was an icy gleam in his eyes.

"You." He pointed toward the deepest part of the corridor. "That room."

Su Yu followed his finger. At the very end of the corridor stood a door smaller and older than all the others. Most of its paint had peeled away, its handle was covered in rust, and a damp, moldy smell seeped through the gap beneath it.

Su Yu raised an eyebrow.

"It's a four-person room," Cedrian said unhurriedly, as though announcing something entirely ordinary. "You get it all to yourself. Shouldn't you thank me?"

He paused, the corner of his lips curling slightly upward.

"If you don't want to get beaten up every day from now on," he lowered his voice until only Su Yu and the few older students beside him could hear, "you'll wash our socks. And our underwear."

A low burst of laughter rose through the corridor.

Su Yu stood there, looking at Cedrian, then at the older students behind him. They were all fifth-years or above. Their expressions ranged from arrogance to contempt, from contempt to cold cruelty, but they shared the same underlying sentiment: they found this very entertaining.

Su Yu smiled.

His laughter was not loud, but in the silent corridor, it rang as clearly as a stone tossed into a still lake.

"You lot," Su Yu said lazily, as if speaking to a group of children, "whoever has a problem with me, step forward. Let's settle it tonight, once and for all. We'll do it in the common room. Stop acting like children picking fights every day. I don't have time to play with you."

The corridor fell silent for a second.

Every Slytherin came out of their rooms and gathered in the common room. Those who did not intend to participate came to watch, while those who did stepped forward one by one.