0802 The Slytherins (LARGE CHAPTER)

Students from Slytherin participating in physical education class stood on the stairs, with Draco Malfoy positioned at the highest point. Beside him were Pansy and Astoria, Daphne and Millicent, while Nott, Blaise, and others stood below him. They had spotted Harry and Hermione, who had been missing from school for several days, and almost everyone’s expression carried a cold indifference.

Too bad those two idiots Crabbe and Goyle weren’t there, or the gang would have been complete.

Hermione’s breathing suddenly stopped for a moment, then returned to normal. She remained silent, her right hand’s five fingers unnaturally curved, ready to grasp her wand at any moment, while her brown eyes held hostility.

Apart from Professor Watson, who had experienced it firsthand, Hermione, Ron, and Professor Dumbledore were among the few who knew all the details of what happened that morning. Harry had told them all the names of the Death Eaters he had heard or seen at Voldemort’s resurrection ceremony.

During these past few days, Harry had discussed with the two of them whether Professor Dumbledore would directly track down those people based on the list he provided and send all those ruthless, stubborn Death Eaters to Azkaban.

Ron had confidently patted his chest, certain that Professor Dumbledore and Professor Watson would do exactly that. Hermione had also cautiously expressed agreement.

But now it seemed they had guessed wrong.

The two legendary wizards they had placed such hope in had taken no action at all. Otherwise, these Slytherin students could never have appeared so calm upon seeing them.

“Move aside—”

Harry said. His face showed no expression, yet he was amazed by his own calm state of mind.

Even though just days ago he had nearly died at the hands of this group’s parents and their master, Harry discovered that when facing Malfoy and his little gang, he didn’t seem as angry as he should be.

Pansy, who ‘adored’ Malfoy the most, twitched her nostrils, wanting to say something, but before the words came out, she glanced sideways at Malfoy and ultimately chose to remain silent.

“Congratulations on surviving death once again, Potter.”

Malfoy seemed different from usual too. He wasn’t wearing his customary mocking expression. Looking down at Harry from his higher position, though his words carried barbs, his tone was equally calm.

From Hermione’s surprised expression, she seemed completely puzzled by Malfoy’s behavior. Harry wasn’t as surprised; he vaguely understood why Malfoy was acting this way.

Harry certainly couldn’t apologize to Malfoy. He nodded and said without emotion, “I am indeed quite good at slipping away from Voldemort.”

Only a few people could be immune to those three words ‘Voldemort.’ Almost all children from magical families, in their innocent early years, had received near-hysterical scolding from their parents for carelessly speaking those words, thus establishing a fear of those three words.

All the Slytherins shuddered involuntarily, and Draco was no exception. He trembled twice, his expression becoming somewhat unpleasant. However, he said nothing, only pursed his lips, dropped a “Let’s go,” and led the Slytherins upstairs.

“What’s going on, Harry?”

Once they left sight, Hermione frowned tightly and couldn’t help asking, “Their behavior isn’t right. I thought… oh, I originally thought they would be more hostile toward you. You know, in Slytherin, You-Know-Who’s reputation isn’t that bad. In fact, many people worship him!”

“Call him by his name directly, Hermione. The three words ‘Voldemort’ aren’t frightening,” Harry shrugged. “Maybe they’ve changed their object of worship.”

One can imagine what a sensation Harry caused when he appeared in the physical education classroom.

Except for Slytherin, students from the other three houses surrounded them so tightly that not even water could leak through.

Many people were talking to him, asking questions they wanted to know, such as: How exactly did they disappear from the bottom of the lake? What did they experience during their disappearance?

Had Voldemort really been resurrected? If so, how did they escape back? How could the famous Head of International Magical Cooperation die? And what about the Headmaster of Durmstrang?

Harry had already explained these questions to the Ministry of Magic and Dumbledore. Faced with his classmates’ inquiries, some he couldn’t say, some he didn’t want to mention, and there were very few questions he could answer.

“It was the sportswear that Professor Watson prepared for us that played the crucial role, everyone. It was those clothes that saved everyone and brought us all back.”

Harry answered reluctantly. Another reason he didn’t want to respond too much was that, in his view, not many of these classmates were willing to believe that You-Know-Who had returned, even if Dumbledore himself told them about it.

“The Daily Prophet hasn’t mentioned a word about this in these past few days.”

After Harry clearly showed his impatience, the crowd gradually dispersed, leaving only their Gryffindor students surrounding him.

Neville said in a serious tone, “Perhaps you’ve noticed that most people don’t really believe this happened, Harry. People don’t want to see that terrible Dark Lord return to the wizarding world, and besides, the Ministry of Magic hasn’t issued an official statement. For the vast majority, the Ministry of Magic is the most authoritative.”

“But you believe it, don’t you, Neville?” Hermione asked, though her tone was certain.

“Oh, of course.” Neville said firmly. “I know you wouldn’t joke about this, neither would Dumbledore, and although Professor Watson hasn’t made a public statement, when people encountered him in the castle and asked, he also gave confirmation.”

Professor Watson arrived. He walked in as usual, wearing a gentle smile, and didn’t even pay much attention to Harry and Hermione appearing in his classroom.

It was a perfectly normal class. They continued practicing team breakouts in Professor Watson’s Spiritual world. Compared to the beginning, their performance had undoubtedly improved considerably. Whether attacking or breaking through, there were commendable aspects, and each carried a unique style.

A sense of contrast ran through the entire class, and both Harry and Hermione felt it.

They were young wizards who had personally witnessed Voldemort’s resurrection ceremony, knowing that the Dark Lord had indeed returned to the wizarding world and everything would change. But the problem lay precisely here, it seemed nothing had really changed.

In this strange feeling, today’s physical education class ended.

Ron was still waiting for them, so Harry and Hermione didn’t linger in the classroom. They had plenty of time to discuss Voldemort’s resurrection with these close friends.

“Professor Watson—”

When Bryan had packed up and was about to leave the classroom, Draco suddenly called out to him. He looked up at Draco and discovered that Draco wasn’t the only one with something to say, all these Slytherin students were looking at him with burning eyes, as if suppressing some emotion.

“What is it, Draco?”

Bryan set down his packed notes and asked with a smile, “Do you have any questions that need my clarification?”

“Um, it’s like this, Professor—”

Draco slowly approached Bryan. He looked somewhat nervous, his fists were half-hidden in his sleeves clenched tightly, while behind him, Millicent, Nott, and others were using intense and cold gazes to drive away the remaining students in the classroom.

After Millicent heavily shut the classroom door and hurried to Professor Watson, who was sitting on the podium with raised eyebrows and a seemingly amused smile watching them clear the room, she positioned herself in front of him.

It wasn’t just Draco who felt nervous. Bryan sensed solemnity and tension from every remaining Slytherin student’s expression, perhaps even tinged with a sacred sense of mission.

“The Dark Lord has really returned, hasn’t he, Professor Watson?”

This was Draco’s opening line.

“Professor Dumbledore has already told you this, hasn’t he? The Headmaster of Durmstrang, Barty Crouch from the Ministry of Magic used their lives to send warning signals to everyone. I believe you’re also very clear, Draco, that Potter wouldn’t use such matters to seek attention.”

Bryan said calmly.

“Then—”

Draco swallowed with a gulp, his nervous heart pounding. Professor Watson hadn’t shown impatience or directly turned cold, but Draco still felt tremendous pressure almost like suppression at the biological level of life.

Yet Draco still struggled to raise his head, looking into Professor Watson’s eyes. Under the gaze of those purple eyes, he stammered with infinite respect,

“Then would you be willing to accept our allegiance, Mr. Watson?”

After Draco’s words, the physical education classroom fell so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

Draco and every Slytherin student who had remained waited nervously for Professor Watson’s reaction, waiting for thunderous rage, calm refusal, or perhaps pleased agreement. They all believed that with Professor Watson’s wisdom, he would surely understand what they meant.

Bryan was struck speechless.

He looked at the young faces in front of him, faces that hadn’t yet lost their childish features. The youngest was Astoria, just a second-year student, while the others still had two or three years before reaching adulthood.

But it was precisely this group of children standing in front of him, looking nervous yet with excitement and an uplifting sense of mission visible in their eyes, as if participating in some great historical event.

Pursing his lips, Bryan didn’t speak.

He waved his wand, and the classroom curtains all drew shut with a whoosh, blocking out the dazzling white sunlight from outside. The torches on the walls lit up in succession but instead of the usual warm orange firelight, they emitted a somewhat sinister pale green glow.

The stacked desks by the walls hopped over in formation, transforming through rapidly spinning shadows into soft sofas arranged in a circle. One desk twisted and stretched its surface, then jumped over the circle of sofas and suddenly shortened its legs to become a large coffee table.

Bryan waved his wand again, summoning many gifts from fans in his office and fetching some food from the kitchen like pies, sausages, pumpkin juice, and such, along with a complete tea set.

Draco could barely contain his excitement, believing that Professor Watson’s current actions represented something significant.

“Come on, find yourselves seats…”

Bryan turned to look at the group of students and smiled, “Consider this my treat for lunch.”

The environment here resembled Slytherin’s common room, except the ceiling lacked those decorative chains and there was no shimmering black lake water outside the windows. Nevertheless, the familiar environment made these Slytherin students feel considerably more relaxed.

Bryan found himself a single armchair, and Draco and the others also followed instructions, each finding their own seats.

No one touched the food on the table; they were all waiting for Professor Watson’s response.

Draco looked intently at Professor Watson’s young yet imposing face, involuntarily recalling the first time he had seen Professor Watson: Professor Watson had quite coincidentally been assigned to the same dormitory as him, even in the exact same bed position.

He had hidden something by his bedside and assigned a terrifying Acromantula to guard it. Even now, Draco occasionally wondered what Professor Watson had placed there.

Bryan picked up his teacup, smiling as he observed these ambitious young ones. He understood Slytherin as he was Slytherin-born himself. When he attended Hogwarts, he was surrounded by people like this. He knew how students from this house were accustomed to thinking and what they yearned for in their hearts.

“Just you?”

Bryan looked at Draco and asked softly.

“Far from it, sir!”

Young Malfoy’s pale skin immediately turned red, and he lowered his voice, “We’ve held private meetings. You know, this is Slytherin tradition. We don’t care how that confused old fool Dumbledore views current events, nor should Professor Snape interfere with our own judgment. There are many people, many upper-year students who share the same views as us!”

Excitement filled Draco’s voice, “We’ve discussed the Dark Lord, discussed the remarkable deeds he accomplished. Oh, of course, some people think his era will soon come again, that we should follow our fathers’ path and continue serving the Dark Lord, thereby achieving great things, but… more people think we don’t need to go so far afield!”

“You are the greatest wizard after the Dark Lord, sir!”

It was rare to see the usually quiet Theodore become emotionally stirred. His tightly clenched fists rested on his knees, “You’ve already proven that your magical power is no less than the Dark Lord’s. You’re younger, more intelligent. Many people follow the Dark Lord, so if we joined, we wouldn’t receive much attention. But you are our professor, and we all believe that if we follow you, we can accomplish great things.”

The absurd feeling from before rose again from his heart. Bryan still smiled but sighed inwardly.

It was understandable, teenagers desperately wanting to accomplish something that would make their fathers and grandfathers take notice. But he was publicly opposed to the Dark Lord, yet these fellows were praising the Dark Lord right in front of him. He didn’t know whether to call them stupid or say they had complete trust in him.

Bryan pursed his lips, his gaze sweeping over these young faces, “You want to follow me… but you should know that I won’t be like Voldemort, promising his Death Eaters to lead them in reclaiming the glory that belongs to pure-blood wizards. In fact, the entire wizarding world probably knows I come from a Muggle background.”

“We’ve already considered this, sir!”

Generally, where Draco was present, Pansy wouldn’t actively voice opinions, but now she was expressing her views, also directing toward him the same worshipful gaze she usually reserved for Draco, “You’ve already proven to the wizarding world that power is more glorious than bloodline. We believe that as long as we follow in your footsteps, we can obtain glory in a simpler way.”

Pansy’s words sparked sounds of agreement, everyone nodding in accord, then looking eagerly at Professor Watson.

“Power… glory,” Bryan chuckled softly, “I understand.”

This was probably the most difficult situation to handle in his not-too-long teaching career. Using force to compel these children to restrain their behavior wouldn’t work, it would instead drive them to become more extreme.

 This was a group… even more than the brave and noble, they were fanatics unafraid to use their own lives to defend their naive ideals.

“You follow me hoping to gain power from me, is that it?”

Bryan took a deep breath, folded his arms, put away his smile, and his expression became calm.

Draco hesitated at this question, “We do indeed hope to learn more powerful magic, sir, but what we value more is your will. Your will is the direction of our efforts!”

Bryan glanced at Draco. This fellow still didn’t realize what kind of risk his father had taken to spare him from harm.

“May I assume that you wish to pledge allegiance to me the way Death Eaters pledge to the Dark Lord willing to sacrifice your own lives to fulfill my will?”

Bryan asked, and he received a chorus of generous and passionate assurances.

“Then there’s a problem now.”

In the span of rapid thought, Bryan decided to continue the conversation in the Slytherin way,

“If I wanted to become Headmaster of Hogwarts… oh, this actually isn’t difficult, it’s practically a done deal. After that, become Minister of Magic. Normally speaking, this isn’t impossible either.

After that, make the entire British wizarding world submit to our will. All wizards working to seize benefits for us in short, making people obey. If we want to accomplish all this, then we’ll have to face a powerful opponent.”

Many people spoke Dumbledore’s name, but Draco’s brow furrowed. He seemed to see an obstacle just as Professor Watson had said, a powerful obstacle.

“You’ve thought of it, haven’t you?”

Bryan looked at Draco gently, “In today’s wizarding world, we’re not the only ones hoping to achieve this goal. Obviously, this has always been the Dark Lord’s goal too. Can anyone think of a good idea to persuade the Dark Lord to abandon his goal and let us accomplish this great cause?”

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Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep