HP: She married Malfoy after becoming an exchange student.

In September, Hogwarts' Great Hall was brightly lit by thousands of floating candles. New students stood in long lines at the front of the hall, anxiously awaiting their sorting. Four long tables were filled with students, their buzzing conversations echoing between the ancient stone walls.

At the middle of the Slytherin table, Draco Malfoy sat ramrod straight. His gaze swept casually over the group of first-year students, a subtle sense of superiority in his grey eyes typical of second-year students—he wasn't the most bewildered one this year!

"Porter and Weasley aren't here," he whispered to Elias beside him, a hint of schadenfreude in his voice. "I bet they've gotten themselves into trouble again."

Elias nodded slightly, his silver hair cascading smoothly over his shoulders, his back relaxed—in short, he appeared very dignified.

Seeing his lukewarm reaction, Draco started to explode: "Elijas! Are you even listening to me?!" Such a spoiled aristocratic air, huh!

Of course, Draco didn't say the second half of the sentence.

"Of course I heard you say that Potter and Weasley are in trouble."

"Hmph!"

Draco crossed his arms, his gray eyes darting around.

"Professor McGonagall didn't look too good just now," Elias whispered, leaning closer to Draco. Draco, however, looked at him with obvious disgust and pushed him away: "Don't get so close to me, you're breathing into my ear!"

Elias: ...

The silver-haired boy sat up straight and stopped talking.

Hermione Granger sat alone at the Gryffindor table, glancing anxiously towards the Great Hall doors every now and then. Two empty seats sat beside her—presumably reserved for Harry and Ron. Neville Longbottom sat on her other side, whispering reassuringly, "They'll be alright, Hermione…"

Just then, Professor McGonagall called out a name.

"Flint, Evan!"

A boy walked out from the group of new students.

The boy's short, light flaxen hair lay softly against his forehead, his skin was fair, and his eyes were innocent. His school uniform collar was embroidered with silver, and he exuded an air of pampered arrogance, as if he had never suffered any hardship.

The Sorting Hat touched his hair and shrieked, "Slytherin!"

Applause erupted from the Slytherin table.

Evan Flint walked briskly yet gracefully to the long table decorated in green and silver. He didn't choose the empty seat near the head of the table, but instead sat down next to several boys of his grade—a spot from which he could clearly see Draco and Elias in the middle of the table.

As soon as he sat down, a boy next to him took the pumpkin juice pitcher and pushed it over to him.

Evan turned his head, his eyelashes fluttering slightly, revealing a sweet smile: "Thank you, Miles." He took the cup handed to him, his fingers seemingly brushing against the other's hand unintentionally before quickly withdrawing them, a faint blush rising on his cheeks, making him look charming and adorable.

While the Bletches family may not be as wealthy as the Malfoys, their status as one of the "Holy Twenty-Eight" in Britain is still quite respectable.

Miles Blatch is the second son of the current head of the Blatch family. Although he has no right to inherit the family business, the name "Blatch" is enough for him to flaunt his power. Therefore, he is usually arrogant and ignores people.

Faced with Evan's current demeanor, Miles's arrogant exterior vanished instantly, and his tone became incredibly gentle: "You're welcome. Due to limited resources, I'll have to make do with Ivy (Evan's nickname)."

The Bletch family and the Flint family also had connections and belonged to the same circle, but they never expected that the youngest son of the Flint family would not only have a good personality and a gentle temperament, but would even allow them to call him by his nickname.

The boy was so handsome, and when Miles looked into his bright, watery eyes, he felt dizzy and overwhelmed by an unprecedented flutter of emotion.