The Evil Thoughts of Hogwarts and the Genie

Chapter 184 "The Leader"

This kind of extreme thinking is beyond what Minerva McGonagall, a professor of transfiguration, can control.

If Edmund were present, he might applaud this scene and offer the following comment:

What a perfect vicious cycle! It's practically a microcosm of the social contradictions in the magical world.

Everyone thinks they are doing the "right" thing, but in the end, who is right and who is wrong depends on the level of magic.

Perhaps only when the numbers of one side are reduced to a level where they need to be protected will such conflicts cease.

However, those who view this matter with the same detached, spectacle-seeking attitude as Edmund are still in the minority.

Minerva McGonagall, in any case, is not included.

The old witch looked at James, who was bowing his head and refusing to meet her gaze, but whose hair was silently conveying his defiance.

From an angle unseen by the young wizard, Minerva's lips turned down, revealing a worried and sad expression.

But the next second, she silently took a deep breath, and her expression turned stern again.

"There must be no next time, Potter."

She said solemnly that she hoped to use her accumulated authority to prevent this stubborn boy from making the same mistake again.

However, this is destined to be in vain.

James Porter remained silent, accepting the consequences of his earlier attack.

The dean's disappointed look and reprimand, and a minor injury that was still bearable.

He nodded, and when he looked up, he even suppressed his resentment.

"I see."

This means that he will no longer be discovered by the professor.

Professor McGonagall glared at him for a while, but in the end she could only swallow a sigh.

The old witch's departing figure seemed to have lost its former majesty, instead exuding a powerlessness befitting her age but not her status.

No matter how much James Potter broke Professor McGonagall's heart, Snape, who had apparently broken one of his ribs, had just returned to the Slytherin common room and was met with praise and applause.

Several older students whistled twice and smiled at him with their chins tilted back; Avery and Moorselber were waiting for him, and their tone was more affectionate than usual.

What a joyful and harmonious scene!

If Severus Snape had been a little more emotionally intelligent, or rather, if he had been a little more thick-skinned, he could have acted flattered and said some nice things about his abilities to reinforce the impression that he was "very useful" in the eyes of others.

But he didn't do it, whether out of disdain or unwillingness, I don't know.

Snape simply smiled smugly, surveying the Slytherin common room with his dark eyes, which was more welcoming than ever before.

On the one hand, he seemed to breathe a sigh of relief.

Without a doubt, after Christmas, he became more eager to fit in with the group and with Slytherin.

This was, of course, because of his despicable father, whom he hated to the extreme, making Snape have no attachment to his "home" or Muggle life whatsoever.

On the other hand, it was because he had also vaguely lost hope in his mother.

The reason behind this is not complicated. Professor Flitwick's words awakened Severus, making him realize that his mother was even willing to give up magic to be with that dirty and stupid Muggle.

Severus found it hard to accept this.

The more he despised Muggles, the more he felt that the doctrine most favored by the Academy resonated with him.

Therefore, I feel a greater sense of belonging.

Clearly, with enough patience, every young wizard can find their place at Hogwarts.

"I've really underestimated you." Avery chuckled, patting his chest. "I always thought you were so skinny and stubborn, completely useless except for showing off in Potions class!"

Avery clearly hadn't considered how the other person would respond. Fortunately, the smooth-talking Moorselber immediately changed the subject, making up for it.

"Your leg-locking spell is truly excellent!" Mulceber sounded genuinely sincere. "But where did you learn it? Ah, did your father teach you?"

Snape glanced at Mulce, whose expression remained perfectly calm, as if he had simply mentioned it casually and had no intention of probing into Snape's family background.

Snape wasn't angry. He almost arrogantly curled the corners of his mouth:

"Oh, you don't remember?" His tone was rather strange. "Before Christmas, Blake played this trick on you. He thought it was his unique skill—ha."

Severus spoke slowly, noticing that Mursab pursed his lips unhappily.

"As it turns out, this spell isn't that difficult; otherwise, how come I could have learned it at a glance?"

"You guys just haven't realized it yet, have you?"

"These kinds of tricks don't need to be taught—but if you ask me, those scholars who compile textbooks are far too conservative in their definitions of spells. I find it ridiculous that some sources classify leg-locking spells as malevolent curses!"

These words attracted the attention of several older students, some of whom nodded in agreement, clearly thinking that Snape was right.

Moorselber was not convinced, and the reason was simple: he had not learned the spells used by Sirius Black without even watching.

But if he were to admit it like that, he would also have to admit that Snape had a great talent for spells;

But if he nodded in agreement at this moment, what if Snape insisted that he also show off? Wouldn't he embarrass himself in front of everyone?

However, he was overthinking it. Genova was also influenced by his almost psychopathic father, developing a fanatical obsession with power and strength that was unnecessary for his age.

He was the happiest when he learned about the changes in the Soman family. Because deep down, he had always wanted to be the leader among the first-grade boys.

Damon's talent is undeniable; he's ambitious, not brainless—but asking him to admit he's inferior to Snape is asking too much.

This kid may not have much else, but he certainly has a lot of bad intentions. He immediately thought of a terrible topic that would allow him to save face.

"You're right, Severus! You're amazing!" Mulceber smiled. "But I dare say you're the best at mastering the Lieutenant General's Spells among us!"

"Because you've only just started school, and you've already found yourself a long-term sparring partner, right?"

"What was her name again? The red-haired Gryffindor?"

Seeing the smile disappear from Snape's lips, Genova Mullerseber chuckled instead.

"That green-eyed mud-breed—oh, I remember now!"

"Lily Evans, I can never remember her name. You see, what decent person would give their daughter such a simple, house-elf-like name?"