Inside the Slytherin Common Room, many curious students had gathered, waiting to watch the show.
“Isn’t that Ivan Selwyn?” some students mocked.
Being pure-bloods, they weren’t afraid of Selwyn coming to bother them.
Ivan Selwyn’s reputation was already quite well-known; after all, not everyone spent their first night at Hogwarts hanging from a common room chandelier.
This made Ivan Selwyn and Obern Nott’s faces flush red.
They were “nobles” who cared deeply about their reputation.
“It looks like they’ve gathered such a large group to deal with that Ravenclaw infiltrator,” someone immediately recognized the situation.
Malfoy, with Crabbe and Goyle behind him, stood among the crowd, curiously observing Will.
He had long heard about Will, who hung his classmates from the chandelier, but his interest in Will wasn’t particularly strong.
In his opinion, among the heroes of the world, only Harry and Draco mattered; everyone else was just a passerby to highlight them.
However, Harry Potter seemed somewhat unwilling to accept his favor, and he had been busy observing Harry these past two days.
Seeing so many people, led by Yaxley, ganging up on Will, Malfoy curled his lip in disdain: “Bullying the weak with numbers, it disgraces noble conduct.”
If it were him, he’d take care of the kid alone, without even needing Goyle or Crabbe.
“Hmph, their family’s reputation was already disgraced when that Muggle-born kid hung them from the chandelier,” someone heard Malfoy’s words, their tone equally filled with disdain.
“This is good too, let those Muggle-borns know that nobles are not to be trespassed upon.”
“That looks like Yaxley from third year, doesn’t it? As a third-year student, getting involved in first-year freshmen’s matters, isn’t he ashamed of bullying the younger ones?”
“Hey, the Yaxley family and the Selwyn family are close. It’s harmless for him to stand up for Selwyn.”
“Selwyn is also a waste; he actually lost to that Muggle-born freshman.”
Most of these speakers were children from Wizarding families or pure-blood families.
Among Slytherin, Muggle-born young Wizards had little say and were mostly ostracized; who could blame them when their background and strength were lacking, and their numbers were small?
Listening to the surrounding discussions, Yaxley’s face turned ugly.
“Kid, magic isn’t something you just talk about. I’m only giving you this chance because you managed to beat them,” Yaxley said with a grim face, already pulling out his wand.
“Since you don’t know what’s good for you, don’t blame me for being ruthless.”
Will doubted this guy had ever seriously fought in a real battle.
What was the point of all that nonsense?
In the end, whoever was left standing had the right to speak.
He simply raised his hand, his wand pointed at Yaxley, and in his silver-gray eyes, there was no fear, no tension; Yaxley actually read a hint of mockery in them.
“It seems I have to teach you, you mudblood, a lesson! Stupefy!”
Yaxley waved his wand, and a spell shot towards Will.
Will did not dodge, and Stupefy came straight for him.
“Yaxley is a third-year student; that kid is asking for death!”
“Let this mudblood realize his place!” the Selwyn group shouted.
Sylvia anxiously urged Will to dodge: “Get out of the way, Will!”
“Protego!” A faint magical shield appeared on Will’s body.
“It’s useless. With his first-year magical power level, Protego is no different from paper. It’s wishful thinking to block Yaxley’s Stupefy,” some older students commented.
Stupefy hit Will directly, and everyone watching thought Will would be defeated instantly—
But Will merely swayed his body, then grinned at Yaxley and commented, “A decent attack.”
[You personally experienced a spell’s attack. Due to being blocked, your perception is incomplete. Charms experience +2]
Was Will stupid for not dodging?
Of course not, he was experimenting.
He had tried casting Stupefy on himself before, but the effect was terrible; he later recalled one of the world’s operating rules—the power of a spell is related to the caster’s magic, emotions, psychology, and thoughts.
Professor Moody, impersonated by Barty Crouch Jr., once said in class that casting the Killing Curse requires magical support; when casting Dark Arts, the Wizard’s extreme emotions affect the power of those spells; when casting the Patronus Charm, one must possess happy memories.
Hogwarts Professors emphasize how their thoughts should be when teaching spells in class; Dumbledore has repeatedly stressed “the magic of love.”
It was difficult for him to generate excessive hostility towards himself; that wasn’t genius, that was schizophrenia.
So he indeed needed others to help him complete his experiments, and Yaxley at this moment was a very good tool.
As for the Shield Charm, it could be said that this spell was one of his most familiar spells.
He knew the importance of defensive spells like the Shield Charm when he first encountered magic, so he spent several years practicing.
A spell level of LV4, a considerable portion of that experience was gained from grinding the Shield Charm; so much so that now, reading literature or continuously casting the Shield Charm, it’s difficult for him to gain any more experience.
Getting back to the main point, everyone watched as Will took a Stupefy head-on without any apparent effect, and they couldn’t help but be greatly surprised.
Will’s skill far exceeded their imagination.
The mocking smile on Will’s face made Yaxley’s face twitch.
Being humiliated like this by a first-year Muggle-born young Wizard made him somewhat angry.
“Avifors! Expelliarmus!” Yaxley cast two spells in quick succession.
This time, Will didn’t rigidly defend; he quickly jumped sideways, dodging the Expelliarmus mixed in with the birds, then pointed his wand: “Incendio!”
Large flames cleared away the birds, and the common room became hot; Will didn’t stop: “Expelliarmus! Stupefy! Petrificus Totalus!”
Three consecutive spells struck.
Caught off guard, he fell to the ground and was hit squarely by the Petrificus Totalus, which was clearly aimed downwards; he instantly froze in place.
In just a few tens of seconds, Yaxley was defeated by Will, which left Ivan Selwyn and Obern Nott looking panicked; they hadn’t expected their reinforcements to be so easily taken down by Will.
“All together, don’t be afraid of him, he’s only one!” Selwyn gritted his teeth, and seven or eight people raised their wands together.
Will narrowed his eyes slightly: “Confringo!”
“Boom!” A violent explosion occurred in the middle of the crowd.
The powerful shockwave caused a piercing pain in the ears of the young Wizards, and seven or eight people were instantly knocked down, some of their wands having flown several meters away.
The surrounding students gasped, covering their ears; Draco Malfoy’s jaw had dropped.
He now admitted that this Muggle-born fellow was very strong, and he would need to bring Crabbe and Goyle to match him.
Many people’s gazes towards Will changed.
As a first-year freshman, Will’s skill level was absolutely monstrous.
Not to mention first-year freshmen, even many third-year students would find it difficult to use those spells so smoothly, let alone Will simultaneously casting spells and using Transfiguration; finally, he even used a dangerous advanced spell like Confringo.
Everyone quickly distanced themselves from Will; it was simply too dangerous.
One must know that Peter Pettigrew, recipient of the Order of Merlin, First Class, died under Confringo, along with twelve Muggles!
What kind of talent is this?!
[You have used spells multiple times. You are more proficient in a certain spell. Charms experience +1]
[You have used spells multiple times. You are more proficient in a certain spell. Charms experience +1]
[You have used spells multiple times. You are more proficient in a certain spell. Charms experience +1]
Will frowned slightly; he had only gained five experience points, which was a loss.
However, looking at the reactions of the people around him, he should have achieved his goal.
They should no longer bother him, and now he should be able to enjoy a peaceful campus life, right?
And just then.
“Will Behrens! What have you done?” From the common room entrance, an angry roar came.
Will turned his head and saw the grim-faced, greasy-haired bat.
The Slytherin students immediately scattered like birds.
“This isn’t Will’s fault, Professor, they started it—” Sylvia tried to explain, but Snape interrupted her directly.
“Miss Lestrange, this has nothing to do with you! Why don’t you step back and let me question Behrens?” Snape said with a dark, ill-tempered face.
“Otherwise, indulge your inexplicable kindness and have someone send these poor wretches to Madam Pomfrey.”
Snape’s black robes swept across the floor, leaving a cold, hard shadow: “As for you, Mr. Behrens, the great Wizard.”
He turned and walked towards the corridor, his black robes tracing a dark arc behind him.
“My office is the third room in the West Tower of the Castle.”