Ethan sat down at the Gryffindor table.
Opposite him was Hermione Granger, diagonally across was a green-eyed boy with round glasses, and on his other side was Neville Longbottom.
Next to him sat a red-haired Weasley.
Hermione pointed at him and said very happily, “This is Ethan White!
His mother makes the most delicious cream rolls!” Hermione seemed to have taken on the role of introducer, happily gesturing to the boy beside her.
“And this is Harry Potter!” Ethan glanced at him; he really was very small and skinny.
“And then there’s Ron Weasley, George Weasley, Fred Weasley…
and our prefect, Percy Weasley!
They are the four Weasley brothers!” A whole nest of Weasleys…
Ethan stood up and shook hands with each of them in turn.
Harry watched him with curiosity and a probing look, though without any awkwardness.
In fact, ever since leaving Gringotts, he had suddenly realized he no longer had to live under anyone else’s thumb, and much of the timidity in his heart had vanished.
When the tattered hat finished sorting the last young wizard, the headmaster—whose beard hung almost to the floor—stood up, spread his arms wide, and called out, “Let the feast begin!” The moment the words left his mouth, the tables were suddenly piled high with food: salt-baked chicken legs, boiled corn, roast beef, roast chicken, pork chops, lamb chops, sausages, steaks…
Cheers instantly echoed through the Great Hall.
With delicious food in his mouth, Ethan’s gloomy, damp mood finally brightened a little.
Beside him, Hermione cleared her throat slightly and held out a small hand.
“Ethan White.” Ethan looked at her, then at his own greasy hand, and said with some confusion, “We already know each other, Miss Granger.” Hermione tossed her hair in mild annoyance.
“But you shook hands with everyone else you met.
You can’t just skip Neville and me.” Neville, who had his head down eating, looked up blankly and whispered, “It’s fine, Granger.” Ethan had no choice but to wipe his hand clean and give hers a brief shake before extending his hand to Neville.
Neville eagerly grasped it, a wide grin spreading across his face.
And with that, the circle was complete.
Ethan reached out to grab a chicken leg, but suddenly, a patch of translucent gray-white brushed against his hand, and immediately after, a prompt floated into his mind.
[You have touched a Ghost.] [Unlocked Rare Attribute: Spirit.
Initial Value: 3] [Unlocked Attribute: Spirit Resistance.
Initial Value: 2] [Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington] [Exchange Value: 3 (Spirit, Spirit Resistance)] “Exchange!” Ethan didn’t know what was happening, but that didn’t stop him from shouting it in his mind.
[Spirit +1] [Spirit Resistance +2] A faint sound of panic arose from beneath the table.
The illusory figure under his hand wobbled slightly and vanished with a *whoosh*.
With an expression as calm as ever, Ethan picked up a large chicken leg.
Low gasps erupted all around as countless ghosts drifted and floated through the air, greeting the newly arrived young wizards.
“Oh my goodness!
Ghosts!
White, look up!” Hermione cried out in excitement as well.
Ethan took a sip of juice while swallowing his watering saliva.
He squinted at the drifting ghosts, feeling a tickle in his heart like a feather brushing against it.
*If only I could touch every single one of them…
Tsk, it really makes my mouth water.* Hogwarts’ ghosts came and went quickly, seemingly just to show their faces to the first-years.
Sir Nicholas, whom Ethan had touched, reappeared as well.
He scanned the first-years at every table with deep suspicion, trying to find the culprit who had just “assaulted” him.
Ethan noticed that he was slightly more translucent than the other ghosts.
Once everyone had eaten their fill, the remaining food vanished from the plates.
A moment later, puddings, ice creams of every flavor, apple tarts, fruit pies, strawberries, and jellies appeared on the table…
It looked incredibly sweet.
Ethan only took some strawberries, eating them while listening to the other young wizards introduce themselves.
There was Neville, raised by his grandmother.
Seamus, who was of half-blood descent.
Hermione had wanted to chat with Ethan about Transfiguration, but seeing him focused on his strawberries, she could only strike up a conversation with Percy instead.
It was a very lively evening, making Ethan, who was used to studying alone, feel a little out of his element.
“Percy, who’s that professor talking to Professor Quirrell?” “That’s Professor Snape.
He teaches Potions and is the Head of Slytherin House…” Listening to the conversation between Harry and Percy, Ethan glanced back as well.
A dark-faced Snape was murmuring something to a stuttering, timid Professor Quirrell, whose head was wrapped in a turban.
After a long while, the desserts vanished too.
Headmaster Dumbledore stood up, and the eyes of every wizard instantly focused on him.
He emphasized the school rules: the Forbidden Forest was strictly off-limits to students, wandering the corridors at night was forbidden, casting spells in the corridors between classes was not allowed, and the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side was strictly forbidden…
Ethan listened very calmly, but a faint, dark glint flickered in the depths of his eyes.
“And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!” Ethan looked up blankly, only then noticing lines of wriggling text appearing in the air above the tables.
Then, under the headmaster’s conducting, the entire school burst into song.
But because they hadn’t rehearsed, everyone’s tune and rhythm were completely out of sync.
It was like a bomb going off, producing a chaotic, buzzing roar that made it impossible to hear anything clearly.
Ethan covered his ears in sheer agony.
Hermione, Harry, and Ron all shared similar expressions, while Dumbledore seemed to be the only one thoroughly enjoying it.
After the song, the houses were led in an orderly fashion back to their respective dormitories by the fifth-year prefects.
The dorms slept five to a room.
In this life, Ethan, both fortunately and unfortunately, had taken Dean’s place, becoming roommates with Harry, Ron, Neville, and Seamus.
Lying in bed, Ethan kept his eyes open, his gaze deep and quiet.
Now that things had come to this, the only thing he could do was use every possible means to increase his strength.
Only then could he minimize the chances of biting the dust halfway through.
Just as the Defense Against the Dark Arts logic went—as long as you kill the enemy before they kill you, that’s the best Defense Against the Dark Arts!
Still, that tattered hat…
how dare it claim he wasn’t upright?
He would settle that score with it sooner or later…
The next morning, just past six o’clock, Ethan woke up right on time.
The sky was still a quiet, dark blue.
Ethan grabbed his Transfiguration textbook and his wand, quietly slipping out of the dormitory.
The Fat Lady in the portrait guarding the entrance mumbled a few words at him.
Ethan studied her for a moment, then reached out and touched her.
[The Fat Lady’s Portrait] [Exchange Value: 1 (Spirit Resistance)] Ethan pulled his hand back, gave her a deep look, and walked toward the first-floor Transfiguration classroom under the Fat Lady’s bewildered stare.
The Transfiguration classroom was completely empty.
Unsurprised, Ethan lit a candle, opened his textbook, and began reading with deep concentration.
As the sky gradually brightened.
A tabby cat leaped gracefully into the classroom, bounded across a few desks, and landed silently on Ethan’s desk.
Ethan didn’t pay it any attention, his brow furrowed as he repeatedly studied the first transfiguration spell.
Previously, due to concerns about safety, he had forced himself not to delve too deeply into Transfiguration, merely reading and memorizing the contents of the textbook.
This was a foolish, rote-memorization method, something he had been forced to master through the spoon-fed education system of his past life.
“Transfiguration must first comply with Gamp’s Law of Elemental Transfiguration, which has five principal exceptions: you cannot produce food from nothing, you cannot create intelligent life from nothing, nor can you give a soul to an inanimate object…” “How to turn a match into a needle…” Ethan waved his wand absentmindedly as he pondered.
The tabby cat on his desk lightly jumped away.
Suddenly, a gentle voice sounded from behind him.
“Good morning, Mr.
White.
You are up very early.” Ethan snapped out of his thoughts and quickly stood up.
Turning to face Professor McGonagall, he said, “Good morning, Professor.
Knowing that our first class would be the fascinating subject of Transfiguration, I simply couldn’t stay in bed.” Professor McGonagall looked at Ethan with surprise, a hint of a smile appearing on her face.
Changing the subject, she asked, “Mr.
White, how do you view Transfiguration?”