“Hey.” Just as Tris was marveling at the fact that Slytherin had such an imposing female Prefect, a girl beside him gave him a gentle nudge.
Tris looked over and saw a very pretty girl with dark hair.
If Hermione and Pansy were merely delicate-featured, the girl standing before him was a true beauty in the making.
Tris remembered her; she had lined up with them earlier for the Sorting Ceremony, another first-year.
As for her name…
Information flashed through his Memory Palace.
Daphne Greengrass.
Aside from the Indian Patil twins, Tris reckoned she was probably the prettiest girl in their year.
“Need something?” Tris asked in a neutral tone, not giving her any special treatment just because she was a pretty girl.
“What’s your relationship with Mr. Arthur Weasley?” Daphne asked.
“Are you a distant relative of the Weasley family?”
“Why do you ask?” Tris replied, puzzled.
“Can’t I be from the main line?”
Daphne looked at Tris with a don’t-try-to-fool-me expression.
“How could that be? Mr. Arthur’s family already has a child starting school this year—that Ron boy, right? He looks just like the two brothers who welcomed him. They’re clearly direct family.”
“Hmm… See that guy over there?” Tris pointed next to Fred at the dark-faced Percy.
“The red-head next to Fred… well, next to the Weasley twins.”
Across the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables, Daphne shifted angles a few times before getting a clear view, then nodded.
“That Prefect? I see him. What about him?”
“He’s a Weasley too, but he doesn’t look much like Fred or Ron, does he? Boys take after their mothers sometimes,” Tris said.
“Well, put that way…” Daphne looked at Percy again, then back at Tris.
She seemed to realize there really was a facial resemblance between the two, though Tris was noticeably handsomer.
“You do look quite a bit like that Prefect. But doesn’t the Weasley family already have a first-year this year?”
“You mean Ron?” Tris glanced over at Ron, who was staring in his direction alongside Harry with an incredulous look.
Tris flashed a smile and answered, “He’s my twin brother.”
“T-Twins?” Daphne’s face filled with astonishment, just like almost everyone else who heard that Tris and Ron were twins.
She wasn’t the only one; several students nearby were listening in.
Almost all the current Slytherin students came from wizarding families and knew a thing or two about the Weasleys.
They also knew that every single member of the family for the past two hundred years had been sorted into Gryffindor.
A sudden Slytherin naturally drew attention.
But compared to a Weasley joining Slytherin, the fact that Tris and Ron were twins was clearly even harder to swallow.
“You… and that Ron… twins?” Daphne looked between Tris and the distant Ron in disbelief, trying to find a single shred of resemblance between their faces.
However, there was none.
They didn’t even have the same eye color.
If she had to name similarities, it was probably the red hair, fair skin, and freckles.
Though even Tris’s freckles were far fewer than the standard Weasley amount.
Seeing everyone’s suspicious glances, Tris had no choice but to explain the concept of fraternal twins.
“That’s actually a thing?” marveled a slender, blonde boy who, like Tris, had been sorted into Slytherin this year.
Tris remembered his name: Theodore Nott.
Yet he couldn’t recall him appearing in the movies at all—maybe he had, but Tris couldn’t put a face to the name…
“Alright.” Accepting the explanation of fraternal twins, Daphne voiced another question.
“If you’re a direct Weasley, how did you end up in Slytherin?”
“How should I know? Blame that scam of a Sorting Hat.” Speaking of this, Tris felt a wave of frustration. This chapter is updated first at g.com.
Slytherin was a villain hub; he hadn’t wanted to be sorted here at all.
“I’m worried that when news gets back home, my parents will disown me.”
Daphne thought about it for a moment, understood what he meant by a “scam,” and couldn’t help giggling.
As they chatted, the last student finished being sorted.
The arrogant-looking Black boy was also sorted into Slytherin.
Blaise Zabini, that was his name.
Unfortunately, it was another name Tris had zero recollection of.
In his past life, he had watched the movies and scrolled through plenty of fan-made videos later on.
But short videos about side characters outside the core group were rare, and even when he stumbled across them, he didn’t necessarily watch them through.
*Sigh, if I’d known I’d get stabbed by a crazy barber and transmigrate here, I should’ve read the original books from cover to cover.*
Tris thought regretfully for the umpteenth time.
The Sorting Ceremony ended, and Albus Dumbledore gave his speech.
Tris had no idea what he was trying to say, and judging by the reactions around him, nobody else did either.
After the speech and the school song came the feast.
Once the feast ended, the Prefects led the first-years to the common rooms.
Leading the Slytherins was the dark-haired older girl from earlier—the one standing five feet tall with the presence of a ten-foot giant.
The Slytherin common room was underground, something he had caught a brief glimpse of in the second movie of the series.
Tris had actually been a little worried—given Britain’s rainfall, wouldn’t a basement be damp?
Fortunately, once they arrived, he felt relieved.
Probably magic?
Though underground, it was dry, comfortable, and pleasantly warm.
“Today’s password is ‘Glory,'” the female Prefect said to the young wizards following her after opening the entrance to the common room.
“The password usually changes once a week, but emergency changes are possible. Notices regarding password changes will be posted on the bulletin board in the common room. If you don’t want to be locked out, you’d better pay attention every day.”
The young wizards offered scattered nods and murmurings of agreement.
Entering the common room, the female Prefect turned around and gestured for the young wizards to halt.
Once every eye was on her, she spoke.
“Our Head of House isn’t particularly fond of these occasions, so I will briefly host the welcome ceremony on his behalf.
“My name is Jemma Farley. Sixth year, Prefect. That is enough for you to know for now; you will learn the rest in time. What I want to say now is this: others believe Slytherin’s selection criterion is pure blood. I am here to tell you that this is incorrect—or at least, not entirely true.”
Saying that, she surveyed the eleven first-year wizards.
“Pure blood is merely the surface. Ambition, cunning, restraint, honor, and pragmatism—these are the core traits of Slytherin.”
Half of the eleven young wizards showed expressions of dismissiveness.
Including Draco, who had talked back to her earlier.
Although intimidated by her presence earlier and keeping his mouth shut, that didn’t mean he was convinced.
He truly didn’t believe she would dare put him in detention once she found out who he and his father were.
She was definitely just posturing in front of everyone!
Whether Draco truly believed this or was simply trying hard to convince himself was hard to say.
“You may not understand this right now, and some of you might not even understand it by the time you graduate. That is normal; most people live mediocre lives. But I hope that those Slytherins who truly possess these traits do not squander these seven years.”
Jemma’s speech wasn’t particularly brilliant, nor was it especially inspiring.
At least, Tris didn’t feel much after listening to it.
Afterward, Jemma pointed out the directions to the boys’ and girls’ dormitories.
Having spent the afternoon on the train followed by the boat ride across the lake—though he hadn’t really exerted himself—Tris was feeling a bit worn out.
Entering the dormitory, he found himself sharing a room with Blaise, the arrogant Black boy, and Theodore, the slender boy.
*So the other room is Draco and his two chubby sidekicks?*
Not bad, way better than the eight-person room back in my college days,* Tris thought.
Their luggage had already been delivered.
Tris dug out his pajamas, planning to finish the remaining fifty push-ups of his daily workout routine before showering and heading to bed.
However, he noticed that his two roommates weren’t unpacking.
Instead, they stood by their beds, staring at him.
“Need something?” Tris raised an eyebrow at them.
“Do you know about Slytherin tradition?” Blaise asked coldly.
“Tradition?” Tris blinked, shaking his head.
“No idea. I think I’m the first Slytherin in my family.”
“Every year in Slytherin has a Year Representative,” Theodore said.
“Selection happens once a month. For the first-years, the first selection is one month after school starts. As for the other years…”
He cast a glance outside the room.
“Right now, they’re probably competing in the common room.”
“Oh,” Tris nodded.
“‘Oh’? What’s ‘oh’ supposed to mean?” Blaise was clearly displeased with Tris’s nonchalant attitude.
“‘Oh’ means ‘I got it.'” With that, Tris dropped to the floor and began doing push-ups right under Blaise and Theodore’s astonished gazes.
Fifty push-ups was something Tris could easily do in one go now, but he still preferred splitting them into two sets.
“W-What are you doing?” Blaise asked when Tris paused to take a break between sets.
His brows were furrowed, clearly baffled by Tris’s actions.
“Exercising.” Tris peeled off his t-shirt, revealing a build that was remarkably striking for a boy his age.
*Gasp!*
Blaise and Theodore drew in a sharp breath in unison.
While wizards didn’t particularly glorify muscular physiques, human appreciation for aesthetic beauty was universal.
The contours of Tris’s muscles were naturally striking to anyone with normal aesthetic sensibilities.
Blaise and Theodore’s reactions were well within the realm of normal human behavior.
“Y-You… how…” Theodore stared at Tris’s developed chest, defined shoulders and arms, and the faint outline of abs, unable to hide the envy on his face.
His fingers even twitched slightly.
*He wanted to touch them!*
“How did you get like this?”
“Just working out, like what I was doing just now.” Tris lightly rolled his shoulders, preparing for the next set.
“Wait a second.” Blaise forced his eyes away from Tris’s chest and back up to his face.
“What about the Year Representative matter we just talked about? Don’t you have anything to say?”
“What am I supposed to say?” Tris shrugged.
“Like you said, isn’t that something we don’t need to consider until a month from now? There’s nothing to say right now, is there?”
Having said that, ignoring their reaction, he dropped back down and started his second set of push-ups.
“Hey… you…” Blaise wanted to say more, but seeing Tris down on the floor again, he could only shut his mouth and wait for him to finish.
When Tris pushed himself up again, Blaise spoke immediately.
“The Slytherin Year Representative isn’t just about grades and personal ability—it’s a demonstration of leadership. Malfoy already has two lackeys. If you don’t want to end up having to take orders from him later, we should cooperate. I believe I’ll make a good leader.”
*Well, look at that…
an ambitious Slytherin indeed?*
Tris glanced at the Black kid in front of him—whom he couldn’t even remember seeing in the movies—and grinned.
“If you want to be a leader, you don’t do it like this!”