Chapter 20
"Slytherin!"
After the Sorting Hat announced loudly, sparse applause erupted from one of the long tables. Clearly, for a young wizard not belonging to one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight pure-blood families, they weren't particularly interested.
Devero was utterly shocked. No way. I haven't even worn it yet! Isn't the Sorting Hat supposed to take some time? I'm meant to be the unmatched super genius of the wizarding world! Am I not brave or loyal enough?
Uh.
Maybe I'm not *that* loyal. But at least consider the student's perspective, alright?! I don't want to spend seven years sleeping in a dungeon!!
Professor McGonagall took off the Sorting Hat. With a gentle nudge on Devero's back, she pulled him out of his breakdown.
Devero awkwardly stood up from the stool. His legs felt as heavy as if they were filled with lead. He took cautious steps, slowly making his way toward the Slytherin table.
At the Slytherin table, the students regarded him with blank expressions. There was curiosity in their eyes, but mostly indifference. As if they were waiting for a newcomer to arrive, yet without much anticipation.
Devero didn't mind their coldness. His heart was filled with despair about his future house life.
"Hey, hi, welcome to Slytherin. I'm the prefect, Marcus Flint." Devero was suddenly addressed. Turning his head, he saw a tall, muscular boy with short dark brown hair and sharp blue eyes.
A confident, slightly arrogant smile was on his face. "Uh, hi, I'm Devero Alexander." Devero nodded hesitantly.
Marcus leaned down with a smile. "Being able to skillfully use the Disarming Charm before even starting school—impressive, Devero."
"Even in Slytherin, your spell proficiency is quite remarkable! I bet some third-year students wouldn't stand a chance against you in a duel."
Surprisingly, Marcus didn't seem to hold any resentment toward Devero for what happened at the station.
In fact, he was rather enthusiastic, which contrasted sharply with the other Slytherins.
"Thanks, but I'm not *that* great. My spell knowledge definitely can't compare to the third-year seniors." Devero wasn't swayed by the compliments and remained modest. At the same time, he mentally noted Marcus's blue profile.
"Don't be so humble. If you want to earn respect in Slytherin, humility isn't a great trait, especially when it comes to… you know." Marcus spoke vaguely.
Devero immediately understood. He was definitely referring to the bloodline families. Indeed, from the attitudes of these Slytherins, it was evident.
They must have heard about Devero defeating Malfoy with *Expelliarmus* at the station. But they didn't take him seriously. Some might even be intentionally cold because of Malfoy.
In such a scenario, if Devero wanted to avoid being targeted by various individuals, he'd need to demonstrate his abilities.
Devero's sharp gaze scanned every Slytherin. Most of their eyes were cold. Only Marcus appeared relatively friendly.
Of course, there were also those like Malfoy, who openly glared at him with animosity.
"Noble politics, huh? Hmph. Looks like before delving deeper into Transfiguration, I'll need to address some interpersonal issues." A cold glint flashed in Devero's eyes.
"So what should I do? Are duels permitted within Slytherin?" Devero asked Marcus, filled with fighting spirit.
Marcus was completely taken aback by the question. "Duels? What duels?"
Devero froze.
Uh.
Didn't all those fanfics from his past life say that Slytherin prefects were selected through duels across different years?
"The worth of a person in Slytherin isn't determined by duels. What era do you think this is? The war's been over for ages."
Devero wanted to facepalm. He'd just revealed his battle-junkie nature.
Fanfics are such a trap!!
Marcus said with a strange expression.
"When I said don't be humble, I meant you should aim to achieve results in your studies. Your spell foundation is solid. Work hard in that area, and if you can secure first place in your year, Slytherin will reward you."
Rewards? Devero's ears perked up at that.
"What kind of rewards are we talking about?" Devero asked eagerly.
"New students could gain access to areas in Hogwarts they're not usually allowed to enter." Marcus gave a mysterious smile.
Forbidden places!?
Now Devero *had* to go!
This was crucial to his exploration progress! Devero was instantly filled with motivation.
"Alright, Prefect, this year's top spot is mine!" Devero patted his chest confidently.
*Pfft.*
Hearing this, Malfoy, sitting across from him, burst out laughing.
Several other Slytherins joined in.
"Oh, wow, the French guy Alexander wants to take first place? That's *so* likely—if he can even recognize the full English alphabet."
Malfoy said in an exaggerated tone. His two lackeys roared with laughter. Many Slytherins followed suit, though some clearly didn't find the joke amusing.
"A bunch of sycophants." Devero's gaze swept over those fake-laughing faces, mentally adding them to his blacklist. He didn't care about the joke itself.
He didn't even consider himself French, so such crude humor didn't bother him. Seeing Devero's unchanged expression, Malfoy's laughter gradually stiffened. His gaze grew even more hostile.
"By the way, Devero, your surname sounds French. Why didn't you attend Beauxbatons?" Marcus, not laughing, casually changed the subject.
"Well, actually, my mother entrusted me to—"
"Woo-hoo!"
"We've got Potter!!"
*Crash! Bang!*
Before Devero could mention that he was Snape's Potions apprentice, a wave of cheers erupted from another table, accompanied by loud table-banging and foot-stomping.
Harry Potter had been sorted into Gryffindor. Devero didn't continue the topic. Marcus didn't seem particularly interested either. They moved on to other subjects, like Devero's favorite: Hogwarts' structure.
At that moment, the last student, Blaise Zabini, was sorted into Slytherin. Professor McGonagall rolled up her parchment, took the Sorting Hat, and left.
Then, the most powerful and enigmatic figure from the original story stood up with a smug smile.
Albus Dumbledore!
He spread his arms and said, "Welcome to Hogwarts for a new school year! Before the feast begins, I have a few words: 'Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!' Thank you!" He sat back down.
Everyone clapped and cheered, including the Slytherins.
Clearly, they still respected powerful wizards. Next came the start-of-term feast, which Devero had been eagerly looking forward to!
He could confidently say it was the best dinner he'd ever had…If only Snape hadn't pulled him away halfway through.