“Tsk, tsk, tsk.
I never imagined that Slytherins were people who lacked faith in the safety of the wizarding world—and in Hogwarts itself,” Professor Parvacina said, his voice rising and falling dramatically as he shook his head with feigned regret.
“To think that your glorious and noble ancestor was one of the founders of Hogwarts, whose school rules and motto endure to this day!
Slytherin House has produced not only countless powerful and successful witches and wizards, but also several Headmasters who contributed immensely to building this institution.”
“Alas,” he added, letting out a melodramatic sigh, “it seems today’s Slytherin is no longer what it once was.
To think they would actually be afraid of Muggles…”
As that last affected sigh faded, Auden Slav turned deathly pale, swaying on his feet.
Not a trace of his earlier arrogance or mockery remained.
He looked around at the first-years of his own house, only to find that far from speaking up for him, they were all glaring at him with burning hatred.
Even the young wizard who seemed to be the leader of the first-years had a chest heaving with rage, looking as though he wanted to reduce Auden to ashes on the spot.
Even though these words were a malicious twist intended by the professor to provoke Slytherin, Auden Slav did not dare deny them lightly.
Because every word was a direct counter to what he had just said.
As long as anyone had heard it, it would spread like wildfire.
Who would care whether he had truly meant it that way?
People only ever believed what they wanted to hear.
Auden Slav did not dare utter another word.
The first-year leader turned around to face Professor Parvacina.
Forcing a smile, he slowly bowed his head and said, “Professor, Slytherin has never feared Muggles, nor will we ever forget Slytherin’s glory.
Slav was out of his mind and spoke foolishly.
On his behalf, I apologize to you.”
As he lowered his head, all the Slytherin students behind him silently did the same in a gesture of apology.
Seeing someone step forward to admit the fault, Professor Parvacina had no desire to cling to a child’s blunder.
He hummed in acknowledgment and handed down the punishment.
“For insulting Hogwarts and Slytherin: ten points from Slytherin, two weeks of detention, and copying the Hogwarts school rules ten times.
I will hand the detention and copying over to Professor Snape.
As for your internal Slytherin matters, handle them yourselves.”
Auden Slav collapsed straight onto the floor, fainting on the spot, while the first-year leader nearly ground his teeth to dust.
*Now* you say it’s an internal Slytherin matter—then what right did you have to punish us?
What was truly terrifying was that this matter would be reported to the Head of Slytherin House.
Even if they looked down on Snape for being a half-blood, they had no choice but to recognize his power, his brilliance, and his position as their leader.
Otherwise, the whole of Slytherin would refuse to tolerate them.
He cast a venomous glare at Auden Slav.
You can’t even handle a simple task.
Just wait until we get back.*
Looking up, he saw Jerael offering him an arrogant smile, which nearly made him cough blood in fury.
He turned around indignantly and went back to his seat.
The bell rang for the end of class, instantly breaking the tense, suffocating atmosphere.
Professor Parvacina clapped his hands and dismissed them.
“Alright, that brings today’s lesson to a close.
I believe you have all learned a great deal.
Now, your assignment: an essay, no word count limit.
The topic is how to evade danger or retaliate if attacked by a magical creature—restricted only to low-danger creatures such as Nifflers, Gnomes, or Bowtruckles.”
Many of the young witches and wizards groaned, their faces falling in dismay.
Professor Parvacina had cruelly assigned homework, and it was only the second day of term.
Noticing that a few students looked unconcerned, Professor Parvacina warned, “Children, do not think low danger means no threat at all.
If these cute little creatures are angered, you won’t be able to shake them off so easily.
Even a Hogwarts owl might suddenly nip at you out of nowhere.
What would you do then?”
Jerael thought Professor Parvacina made a very good point.
The more harmless something seemed, the more likely it was to pose a threat.
Just like that rat in the Weasley family—chubby, foolish, thinking of nothing but food all day—yet it was the culprit behind the deaths of the Potters and the imprisonment of Black.
Thinking of this, Jerael hesitated.
By now, Peter Pettigrew had likely already entered the Weasley household, and Black was already in prison.
Should he warn Bill that Black was innocent?
After long consideration, Jerael decided against it.
Coming to this world with memories of his past life was already bound to cause ripples in the timeline.
The less the future changed, the safer he would be.
If his interference caused drastic shifts, he truly couldn’t guarantee that Professor Dumbledore’s side would ultimately win.
It was better to keep a low profile and focus on breaking the Caged Bird seal first.
There would still be time to make plans once Harry Potter entered Hogwarts.
When the class ended, neither the Ravenclaws nor the Slytherins stood up immediately.
Instead, after packing their books, they quietly stared at each other, sparks practically flying between them.
The Ravenclaws were no fools; they simply didn’t like dwelling on certain things.
The only person in the classroom with close ties to the Muggle world who had drawn Slytherin’s attention was Jerael—after all, he was the one who had earned Professor Snape’s praise and points.
Slytherin wasn’t the only house that understood solidarity.
The young Ravenclaws glared fiercely across the room.
He stood up first, pulling Jack along as he walked toward the door.
With his departure, the Ravenclaws loosened their tension and filed out after him.
As Jerael passed the Slytherins, the first-year leader gave him a cold, mocking smile.
“Don’t get cocky.
You won’t stay ahead of us forever, you little Muggle-world white-eyes.”
Jerael tilted his head slightly and walked past without giving him a single glance, leaving the Slytherin muttering curses behind his back.
In Charms class, Professor Flitwick didn’t start right off by teaching the Levitation Charm.
Instead, he reviewed the fundamentals of spellcasting, emphasizing the importance of pronunciation, movement, and intent.
Jerael listened attentively.
His mastery of magic directly bore on whether he could resolve the Caged Bird seal.
He even activated his Byakugan, closely observing the subtle shifts in magic as Professor Flitwick cast his spells.
Gryffindor shared this class with them, but their rowdiness was giving Professor Flitwick a bit of a headache.
Professor Flitwick was delighted that the Ravenclaw first-years were as fond of learning as ever.
When he saw Jerael studying so intently without even blinking, he grew even more thrilled.
“Ten points to Ravenclaw for Mr.
Prent’s passion for learning!” Professor Flitwick squeaked.
Seeing Jerael freeze in surprise and look slightly embarrassed, Professor Flitwick said reassuringly, “Don’t worry, child.
Your dedication will surely bear fruit.
Magic favors those who work hard.
Keep at it, and your problem will be resolved.”
Seeing Flitwick wink at him and hearing his suggestive words, Jerael realized the professor likely misunderstood—assuming he was self-conscious about his unusual eyes and hoped to use magic to undo some past magical accident.
He didn’t offer any explanation.
Instead, he looked back at Professor Flitwick with gratitude and returned his full attention to the lesson.
As Jerael practiced the hand movements for the Levitation Charm, he felt the flow of chakra within his body and pondered the relationship between incantations, hand movements, and magic.
The existence of nonverbal and wandless magic proved that hand movements and spoken incantations were not strictly necessary.
Under what conditions, then, could one cast without voice or wand?
Was it achievable through practice alone, or did it require a certain level of control over one’s own magic?
Jerael inclined toward the latter.
Hand movements could channel the body’s internal magic to flow in a specific order and speed, while a wand guided the release of magic, keeping the pathway open.
Combined, casting a spell became a simple matter.
Jerael’s mind began to race with new ideas…