After all, a single Galleon failed to pry open The Handmaiden Parkinson’s rigid and arrogant Pure-blood rules; that little scheme of using heavy money to buy a neighboring bed was directly blocked by her cold profile.
Isolde clicked her tongue inwardly, complaining silently in her heart.
Slytherin’s Pure-blood little snakes.
Compared to this group of young masters and The Handmaidens who wore Pure-blood filters and looked down their noses at everyone, Rodolphus, who was tongue-tied and bristling on the train, seemed much simpler and easier to fool instead.
At least, she lifted her chin and said what she gave was too little to look down upon, then threw two Galleons at her with a dark face.
“I’ll give you two Galleons, don’t look for me.”
“Alright.”
The thought of changing dormitories completely fell through, but Isolde wasn’t depressed either, calmly accepting her new bed.
The three-person dormitory wasn’t crowded; the stone walls shimmered with a slightly cool luster, and the chandelier dropped fine light and shadows, exuding an elegant yet aloof style everywhere.
It’s just that the surrounding atmosphere was overly desolate, and the other two roommates were reticent the entire time.
The gazes occasionally cast over carried undisguised alienation and scrutiny.
Merlin, didn’t they have any curiosity about the new roommate at all?
The number of little snakes in this year’s Slytherin was not very large, so some dormitories only had 2 to 3 people.
But this also made it convenient for everyone to recognize their classmates.
Probably by the 3rd day, there were more freshmen in the Common Room than usual.
Afterwards, they basically became familiar with each other.
Mostly Pure-bloods, they had seen each other since childhood.
As for Isolde—the freakish genius who actively raised her hand to answer every single question posed by professors upon starting school and could answer them completely correctly— they were somewhat curious.
“I really don’t understand… As a wizard, why would someone fancy a Muggle.”
Isolde sat in the corner; she vaguely heard it, and they were discussing her.
Bellatrix sat in the center of the crowd; Isolde actually wanted to go over and strike up a conversation.
By the way, she missed the little eagles of her past life a bit; wherever they went to chat, they would bring her along to make friends.
Words rolled away the moment they reached her lips, and she didn’t know what to say.
Hello, You are very beautiful, how are you?
Forget it…
Certain Slytherin students didn’t think much of Isolde sitting in the corner of the Common Room; arrogance and prejudice had already sown the seeds of trouble at a young age.
Those whispering voices made one feel somewhat suffocated to some extent.
However, as a reliable transmigrator, Isolde would wear a smile to invite those sarcastic, gossiping, and mocking guys.
Someone made sarcastic remarks that her Muggle mother was unworthy of her wizard father.
Someone ridiculed Isolde for flowing with half-breed blood.
Isolde: “Merlin, I feel that the blood on your body is very noble, hey, would you like to go to the Dueling Arena with me to have a look?”
Agreeing meant going to the Dueling Arena to be ruthlessly crushed and beaten up.
Disagreeing?
Isolde would viciously curse and revile:
“hhh, it seems you’re not that great either? You talk worse than a nundu’s breath, this Pure-blood young master (or The Handmaiden), are you too cowardly to fight me? So timid…”
[Profanities omitted…]
After inviting people everywhere to duel, Bellatrix actually took the initiative to come and duel her once.
Rodolphus chimed in sarcastically from the side: “Wow~ Winnier is so amazing~ You’ll definitely accept, right~”
He had dueled Bellatrix some time ago and suffered a narrow defeat.
However, he was already quite formidable among his peers.
Isolde frowned.
She really disliked listening to Rodolphus’s pinched voice—androgynous and reeking of sarcasm.
Although she knew this was a spoof, she was still thoroughly disgusted.
She had learned a phrase in her past life: “The Internet has no memory.”
Now she felt that campus life had no memory either.
Isolde suspected that Rodolphus’s brain had short-circuited.
She had cast spells like Expecto Patronum right on the train before school started.
After school started, she looked for people to duel and had never lost.
Do I look that easy to beat?
Or did they think she definitely couldn’t beat the current young version of Bellatrix?
Therefore, Isolde didn’t directly agree at first: “Let me think about it, Bellatrix.”
The latter sneered: “I think we’re not close enough yet to address each other by our first names.”
“Oh, I think your name sounds very nice, so I blurted it out subconsciously.”
“…”
Then Bellatrix stopped talking and turned her head away; Isolde couldn’t notice whether her expression was happy or sad.
However, Isolde finally agreed to the duel with Bellatrix.
Surprisingly.
Her current physical fitness was still too poor; she couldn’t withstand high-intensity magical bombardment.
Bellatrix’s spell-casting speed was simply too fast, and the dense attacks smashed over like cannonballs.
In the end, Bellatrix fell to the ground.
Isolde couldn’t quite hold back; she was standing, leaning down to look at Bellatrix’s expression, which was probably annoyance.
After thinking for a moment.
She gave up the idea of throwing in another “Petrificus Totalus”.
After confirming it was over, Bellatrix stood up angrily and grabbed Isolde’s tie.
Their heights were almost identical.
She glared aggressively at Isolde.
“…Damn mixed-blood little mongrel… We’ll have a next time.”
On the 2nd day, inside the Common Room, there was one more thing for everyone to talk about.
Black didn’t beat that half-blood either.
Rodolphus cursed from the side:
“Mongrels are just different, thick-skinned! It doesn’t hurt no matter how you hit her.”
Isolde completely took it as him talking nonsense, rolled her eyes, and walked away.
“If you want to find me for a duel next time, I’ll accompany you anytime.”
“After all, I’m a bit different from you guys; I’m a born genius~”
Such a pretentious remark finally became her turn to say.
A light sentence fell, carrying the swagger unique to youth, with a complacent ending tone.
The Slytherin Common Room fell silent for half a second instantly.
The Pure-blood young masters and The Handmaidens who gathered around whispering and waiting to see Isolde make a fool of herself.
The discussion and mockery on their faces stuck stubbornly at the corners of their mouths, their expressions turning green and white alternately.
No one expected that this half-blood whose background was criticized by them in every possible way would still dare to be so high-profile, swaggering, and spouting wild words after beating Black.
A born genius.
These five words were like a light slap, fiercely hitting the faces of all those who considered themselves of noble Pure-blood and looked down upon her.
Rodolphus’s face instantly darkened completely, the disgust and reluctance in the depths of his eyes almost overflowing, staring fixedly at Isolde’s carefree departing back while gnashing his teeth.
“Arrogant and conceited! It’s merely a lucky win!”