Dungeon Illusion (I)

The stone steps of Hogwarts Castle seemed to go on forever.

Su Yu followed in the middle of the group, inching upward step by step. 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 twisted. At that moment, Su Yu wanted nothing more than to sit down, 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 her excitement. "I read about it in a book. The castle's Great Hall is at the top of the hill, and after you enter through the main doors, you have to—"

"Hermione," Su Yu cut her off weakly, "could you save some energy until we get into the hall?"

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

Kurama gave a satisfied grunt in the 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 reply.

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 time to properly look around, he spotted someone ahead.

Professor McGonagall stood before a massive oak door—the door leading to the Great Hall. She wore emerald-green robes, her black hair pulled tightly back, and her expression was as stern as if it had been carved from stone. A roll of parchment rested in her hand as her gaze passed over every first-year's face, as though she were taking stock of a fresh shipment.

"First," Professor McGonagall's voice rang through the entrance hall, crisp and forceful, without a trace of unnecessary flourish, "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 moving slowly 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 most prestigious 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 must enter the hall first and make sure the Sorting Hat is ready."

She turned and pushed open the massive oak door. The moment it opened, Su Yu caught a glimpse of four long House tables inside the Great Hall, with hundreds of students seated beside them. Then Professor McGonagall entered, and the door slowly closed behind her. The entrance hall fell silent again.

Su Yu leaned against a stone pillar in the entrance hall, hands tucked into his pockets as he idly observed the other first-years. Most of them looked nervous—some were biting their lips, some kept rubbing their hands together, and some muttered under their breath as if reciting spells. Hermione stood beside him, gripping her book so tightly that it had creased.

At that moment, a voice emerged from the crowd.

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

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

It was Draco Malfoy, the kind of person who wanted to stick a label reading "I'm Important" right on his forehead wherever he went.

Malfoy's gaze passed through the crowd and landed on Harry. He strode toward him, Crabbe and Goyle trailing after him like two faithful hunting dogs.

"Harry Potter," Malfoy said as he stopped before 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 to Ron. They narrowed, and the curve of his mouth sharpened into a blade.

"Red hair, old 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 raise them."

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

Malfoy had already turned back to Harry, the arrogance spreading across his face once more as he held out his hand.

"You'll soon find," Malfoy told Harry, with the sincere air of someone offering charity, "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 gaze slanted briefly toward Ron before withdrawing. The curve of his lips perfectly conveyed everything he meant by "the wrong sort."

Harry looked at Malfoy. His expression remained calm.

"I think," Harry responded coldly, "I can tell the wrong sort for myself. Thanks."

Malfoy's mouth twitched. He had clearly not expected that answer. But seeing Harry together with a Weasley, all his fantasies of Harry as a savior or Dark Lord shattered completely. With a cold snort, he turned and left with Crabbe and Goyle.

Leaning against the pillar, Su Yu watched the entire exchange. The corner of his mouth lifted—not because Harry had rejected Malfoy, but because the whole thing struck him as strangely absurd. A young master had grown up hearing stories about a pauper, so when he met that pauper, he wanted to befriend him. He pompously delivered a string of grand words, only for the pauper to remember the humiliation of being bullied by people like this young master and refuse even to shake his hand. As for Malfoy's insults toward Hagrid and Ron—Su Yu felt that in the young master's world, that probably did not count as anything remarkable. He had mocked countless people. Who were Hagrid and Ron to him? To Malfoy, this was simply part of everyday social interaction, as natural as breathing.

Thinking that, he chuckled.

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

Malfoy's head snapped around. His gray eyes pinned Su Yu like two knives, then swiftly swept over Hermione and Neville beside him.

"I don't recognize you," Malfoy said quietly, every word seemingly squeezed through his teeth. "You're probably a Mudblood."

His chin lifted higher, and the curve of his lips became one of lofty contempt.

"A lowly Mudblood," Malfoy drawled, as though afraid Su Yu had not understood, "dares laugh at me?"

Hermione's expression changed. She might not have fully understood what "Mudblood" meant, but she understood "lowly," and she understood every implication in his tone. Her hands clenched, and her mouth opened. Like a kitten whose tail had been stepped on, every hair on her body seemed to stand on end 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 furious, her muscles taut as a bowstring—but his other hand gently patted her back, like he was smoothing the fur of an angry little kitten.

"All right, all right," Su Yu said softly, his voice lazy and coaxing, as if soothing a child. "Don't be angry. Don't be angry."

Hermione struggled once 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 holding her anger in and blocking Malfoy's gaze out.

Kurama let out an unreadable grunt in the soul space. "So your way of handling this is to hug her?"

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

"She isn't your cheesecake. A hug won't make her stop being angry."

"Shut up."

Hermione's struggles gradually stopped. Her face was still red, though the cause seemed to have changed from anger into something else. She lowered her head, burying her face in the collar of Su Yu's robe without saying another word.

A hand landed on Malfoy's shoulder.

Malfoy turned his head and saw Professor McGonagall's utterly expressionless face. His expression shifted, and he promptly stepped back, retreating to the edge of the crowd with Crabbe and Goyle.

Professor McGonagall said nothing. She merely glanced at Malfoy before turning to all the first-years.

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

She pushed open the massive oak door.

The Great Hall unfolded before them all.

And the most breathtaking sight was its ceiling.

It was a deep indigo night sky, scattered with stars, some bright and some dim. Every so often, a shooting star streaked across it, leaving a silver trail against the heavens.

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

"It's fake," she whispered in his ear, unable to suppress her eagerness 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 astonishment. "Miss Hermione? You're incredible! You even know details like that?"

Hermione's words instantly caught in her throat.

Her face flushed scarlet—this time, truly scarlet.

"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 act, a lazy curve rising at his lips. "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, though she could not suppress the upward curve of her lips.

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 if an invisible pair of scissors had cut a mouth into its brim—and it began to sing.

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

The Sorting Hat finished its song. Scattered 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 from the crowd and stumbled onto the stool. The Sorting Hat dropped over her head, hesitated for a moment, then shouted, "HUFFLEPUFF!"

The Hufflepuff table erupted in enthusiastic applause. Hannah Abbott ran over with a smile.

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

"GRYFFINDOR!" the Sorting Hat shouted.

The Gryffindor table went wild. The Weasley twins stood and cheered loudly, Percy Weasley applauded with restraint, and a relieved smile appeared on Ron's face. Harry removed the Sorting Hat and headed toward the Gryffindor table, his steps far lighter than when he had arrived.

The names continued. Su Yu watched one first-year after another step forward and enter different Houses. Hermione was sorted into Gryffindor—she had sat on the stool for a long time, the Sorting Hat wavering over her head for ages. Neville was also sorted into Gryffindor—he nearly forgot he was still wearing the hat, and almost tripped over his own robes as he ran to the table, but the Gryffindors welcomed him with thunderous applause.

Su Yu continued waiting.

Another name. Another. Another.

His had still not been called.

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

His frown deepened. Wasn't it alphabetical?

Professor McGonagall finished reading the names.

She flipped the parchment to the front, then to the back, then to the front again. Her brow furrowed—only a slight movement.

Then everyone's gaze turned toward Su Yu.

The Great Hall fell silent. Hundreds of eyes stared at him—some curious, some sympathetic, some delighted by his misfortune, and some simply eager for a spectacle. Su Yu stood in the middle of the crowd, surrounded by those stares, his expression unchanged.

He did not have some overpowering 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 isolated the entire school, have I?"

Kurama laughed so hard in the soul space that she nearly doubled over. Her nine tails swished wildly as her laughter echoed through Su Yu's mind.

"Oh dear," Kurama laughed so hard she could barely form a complete sentence. "Oh dear, it seems nobody wants you. Why don't you—why don't you let me out—I'll eat everyone here—then this school will be yours—how about it?"

A black line appeared across Su Yu's face.

"Could you be serious for once?"

"I am serious," Kurama said. Her laughter finally eased a little, though her tone remained full of gloating.

"Shut up."

"Every time you tell me to shut up, it's when you need me most."

Su Yu did not answer. His gaze returned to the teachers' table.

At the teachers' table, Dumbledore stood up.

His movements were slow, slow enough for everyone to clearly see the entire process. His silver beard gleamed faintly in the candlelight, and behind his half-moon spectacles, his blue eyes were calm and profound.

"Yu-Su Fuli," Dumbledore's voice echoed warmly and clearly through the Great Hall. "You have been assigned to Slytherin."

Su Yu froze for a moment.

"No Sorting Hat necessary," Dumbledore continued, a meaningful smile appearing on his lips. "You may go directly to your table."

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

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

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

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

Su Yu reached the Slytherin table and was about to sit down when a hand blocked his way.

"Wait."

The voice was cold, like water seeping from the cracks between dungeon stones. Su Yu looked up and saw an older boy—a seventh-year, judging by the prefect badge on his robes.

Cedrian Evanwood, a seventh-year Slytherin 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 there have never been half-bloods in Slytherin, but one half is pure-blood, while the other half..." The corner of his mouth curled slightly, as if tasting something less than fresh. "What is the other half? Who knows?"

He turned to look at the others at the Slytherin table. Slytherin had half-blood wizards, but that did not mean every kind of half-blood was welcome.

"Slytherin," he said, with the solemnity of a speech, "will not admit a half-blood mongrel whose bloodline is not even known. This is our House's rule. This is our tradition. This is our—"

He did not finish, because several more people stood up.

A fifth-year boy, a sixth-year girl, and another seventh-year girl—they were all prefects, obvious 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 to the teachers' table, respectful but unyielding, "we find Professor Dumbledore's assignment inappropriate. Slytherin, the bastion of pure-bloods, has already fallen, although that was Salazar Slytherin's own wish. But we cannot accept a mongrel of Eastern blood entering Slytherin."

"As the pride of pure-bloods," another prefect continued, his voice firm beyond question, "we will never bow our heads."

Low murmurs of agreement rose from the Slytherin table. Several younger students stood up as well, their faces mixing excitement with nervousness.

The atmosphere in the Great Hall abruptly turned tense.

Dumbledore sat at the teachers' table, his blue eyes calmly watching it all behind his half-moon spectacles. He said nothing. He simply looked at Cedrian, then at Su Yu, and then—the corner of his mouth lifted in an almost imperceptible curve.

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

Everyone's attention shifted back to Su Yu.

Su Yu lifted his head.

His expression was calm and indifferent. He looked at Dumbledore, then at Cedrian and the prefects who had risen, and the corner of his mouth lifted slightly.

"Defend myself against what?" he asked lazily. "Tell them that at East University, only dogs care about bloodlines?"

He smiled. The smile was faint, but for some reason, several people at the Slytherin table changed color.

"Heh," Su Yu murmured, his voice lowering as if 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 a degree, but enough to suppress every whisper in the Great Hall. The gentle smile remained on his face, but there was now an unquestionable firmness in his blue eyes.

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

His gaze swept over Cedrian's face, then over the faces of the standing prefects, before finally settling on the entire Slytherin table. His gaze was not heavy, yet everyone he looked at unconsciously sat back down.

Cedrian remained standing there, lips pressed into a line. His fists clenched, loosened, then clenched again. He wanted to say something—Su Yu could see the words turning over in his throat several times—but in the end, he merely nodded faintly and sat down.

Su Yu took a seat beside a girl.

The atmosphere in the Great Hall gradually returned to normal. Su Yu sat at the Slytherin table, idly looking at everything before him. At the Gryffindor table, Hermione was looking his way, her face full of concern. Neville was watching too, though he looked more confused than worried. Harry and Ron were speaking quietly 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. The hum of the Great Hall gradually quieted.

"Before everyone enjoys the feast," Dumbledore's voice echoed through the Great Hall, carrying both an elder's calm and a mischievous child's cunning, "I have a few words to say."

He cleared his throat.

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

"Dig in!"

He sat back down.

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

Dinner began. Food appeared from thin air on golden platters—roast beef, fried chicken legs, shepherd's pie, peppermint hard candies, buttery mashed potatoes. Their aroma filled the Great Hall. Su Yu placed a piece of beef onto his plate and took a bite. Kurama critically judged every dish in the soul space before reaching the conclusion that none of it was as good as cheesecake.

The girl beside Su Yu introduced herself at last. "Daphne Greengrass, first-year like you. Su Yu, you need to be careful. Those prefects definitely won't let this go. If they really make a move, I'll report to the teachers right away and get you help. 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 on things herself and hurry to fetch a teacher if something went wrong.

After dinner, Dumbledore stood again and said a few things—students were forbidden from entering the Forbidden Forest, the right-hand side of the Third Floor Corridor was also off-limits ("unless you want to die a very painful death, though that is 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 drifted from its tip, twisting into lines of words in the air. Everyone began to sing. Some chose one tune, others chose another, and the entire Great Hall became a pot of thoroughly stirred mush. The Weasley twins sang the entire song at the pace of a funeral march, while Su Yu kept his mouth shut throughout, pretending to be a statue.

Kurama laughed so hard in the soul space that she nearly rolled off her chakra.

"Your school song," she said between bursts of laughter, her voice breaking up from how hard she was laughing, "your school song is even harder to swallow than your spicy pepper soup—"

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

"Slytherin, follow me." Cedrian's voice came from the front. He stood up without sparing Su Yu so much as a glance, then turned and headed for 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 unhurriedly joined the line.

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

Beyond it was a stone staircase that descended, growing narrower and darker the farther it went. There were fewer and fewer torches on the walls, while the air became damper and colder. At the end of the stairs lay 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 and spoke the password to the stone wall. Without a sound, the wall split open along a crack, then slowly slid apart to reveal a spacious, low-ceilinged underground chamber.

The Slytherin common room.

Su Yu walked in and looked around. The ceiling was low, but the room was vast, bathed in a strange green glow—the light filtering through the waters of the Black Lake beyond a huge window on one side of the room. The lake water drifted slowly past outside, and every so often, a fish swam by, casting a blurry shadow across the glass. Dark green tapestries and silver ornaments hung on the walls, while the fire in the hearth blazed brightly.

"First-years," Cedrian said from 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. Whenever he called a name, a first-year was directed to a door and went inside. Su Yu stood at the end of the corridor, watching as fewer and fewer people remained around him.

In the end, only he was left.

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

"You," he said, pointing toward the deepest end 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, the handle was covered in rust, and a damp, moldy smell seeped through the crack beneath it.

Su Yu raised an eyebrow.

"It's a four-person room," Cedrian said leisurely, as though he were announcing something completely ordinary. "You get it all to yourself. Shouldn't you be thanking me?"

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

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

Low laughter rose in 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 varied from arrogance to contempt, from contempt to cruelty, but they all shared the same underlying sentiment: they thought this was very entertaining.

Su Yu smiled.

His laugh was quiet, but in the silent corridor, it rang out as clearly as a stone thrown into a still lake.

"You lot," Su Yu said lazily, as if talking to a bunch of children, "whoever has a problem with me, step forward. Let's settle it tonight, right there in the common room. Stop acting like kids fighting 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 entered the common room. Those who did not intend to join came to watch, while those who did stepped forward one by one.