"You mean you aren't from a wizarding family?"
Hermione spoke with surprise. She had previously assumed Lynn came from some knowledgeable wizarding family, so his admission left her quite shocked.
"That's right. While family environment has a significant impact on the acquisition of knowledge, if you are willing to study seriously to gain it, it is never too late."
"Hermione, you really don't need to compare yourself to Lynn," Harley chimed in with a smile, repeating to Hermione what Cho had told her earlier. "Lynn is a monster; he can memorize a book just by reading it once. I barely managed to finish the textbooks over the holiday, but Lynn read at least twenty or thirty books this thick."
Harley gestured with her fingers. Ollivander had given Lynn a total of fifty-seven introductory books on wandlore; stacked up, they were taller than she was.
Hermione, suddenly at a loss for words, nodded with difficulty. She had been feeling quite pleased with herself for nearly memorizing the first-year textbooks over the break. However, faced with this comparison, she immediately realized the chasm between them. Memory was a talent, an innate gift. Some people were just monsters like that, and she had actually met such a person in reality.
"Lynn, your grades must have been very good, right? I feel like if you went to Eton College, your future achievements would definitely be high."
"I've never been to school. The orphanage only taught basic literacy. I learned a lot of words by reading on my own. I spent over a year wandering near Oxford University. Whenever I didn't understand something, I'd ask people there. Most of them were very nice, whether they were students or professors; they were quite willing to teach me."
"But later, a new security guard arrived and chased me away, thinking I was a beggar. By then, though, I had pretty much overcome being semi-illiterate, so I continued wandering around to see the world—to see the world that books record but words cannot fully describe."
"How could there be someone like that!"
Hermione spoke indignantly, hands on her hips, fuming with anger.
"He was just doing his duty. After all, his job is to maintain security within the college grounds and prevent suspicious outsiders from bothering the students and professors. I had entered a private area of the college at the time, so being chased away was normal. You don't need to blame him."
Lynn wasn't angry about it; having responsible security was actually a good thing for a school.
"But what did you learn there?" Hermione asked curiously.
"Mostly literature, history, and languages. I can spell in twelve languages, and for spoken communication, I learned six foreign languages. Actually, it wasn't difficult because there were students from all over the world at the school. Chatting with them was great practice for speaking. A professor who looked out for me taught that subject specifically."
"That... that's amazing..."
"It's really just a good memory. I'm still weak in other areas, like spells. In that regard, I'm not as good as Harley. Even though I know the correct incantations and wand movements for many spells, actually casting them is difficult. I guess my talent is a bit lacking there; I'm actually quite troubled by magic spells."
Lynn scratched his head; he truly felt helpless about this. "Fortunately, I really like Wandlore, which doesn't have high requirements for casting ability. Maybe I'll lean more towards studying Ancient Runes at school. After all, spells originally evolved from the runic system to make casting easier for wizards."
"In the initial and early stages of magical development, wizards cast spells through combinations of runes. That's why we have those runic scripts, which frequently appear in Muggle archaeological discoveries. They are often considered religious ciphers and are widely distributed around the world."
Lynn's erudition on these matters made Hermione nod repeatedly, and the young wizards nearby who heard Lynn's words couldn't help but cast admiring glances his way.
Many of them were from wizarding families, but they realized that this was the first time they were hearing about the things Lynn was discussing.
"Phony show-off."
A cold snort came from the side. A blond boy with a sour expression, presumably unable to stand Lynn's "posturing," deliberately bumped into Lynn's shoulder as he walked by. His brows and eyes were filled with haughty arrogance.
"Why are you like this! You have no manners at all!"
Harley and Hermione both glared at the boy. Hearing this, the boy stopped and turned around. His gaze fell on Hermione with a trace of malice, and he sneered, "Filthy Mudblood."
"And you are too, right?" He smiled contemptuously, his gaze sweeping over Harley and Lynn.
There was a slight commotion among the group of young wizards. Those from wizarding families clearly understood what kind of word "Mudblood" was.
Just as someone was about to stand up for Harley and Hermione, Lynn spoke abruptly. "Trouble you to pull your pants up before talking to others, thanks."
People's eyes shifted downward and saw that the boy's trousers had, at some unknown point, slid down to the hem of his robes.
A burst of snickering rose and fell. The boy, whose face had originally been pale and bloodless, instantly flushed red. After hurriedly pulling up his pants, he elbowed the henchmen standing beside him, signaling them to teach this guy a lesson right now.
But before they could make a move, Hagrid, who was leading the way at the front, stopped and knocked on the front doors of Hogwarts Castle.
The young wizards' attention was drawn away. They saw the doors open to reveal a stern-faced female professor who looked very difficult to deal with.
"The first-year students, Professor McGonagall." Hagrid's voice ensured everyone heard the stern professor's name. The crowd immediately fell silent; Professor McGonagall's name was on every one of their acceptance letters.
"Thank you, Hagrid," Professor McGonagall nodded. "I will take them from here."
Hagrid went inside through the main doors, but the young wizards followed Professor McGonagall in a different direction.
Ascending the luxurious marble staircase of Hogwarts Castle, they entered a quaint stone corridor. Torches burned brightly on the walls as the students, shoulder to shoulder, followed Professor McGonagall into a small, empty chamber.
"Welcome to Hogwarts," Professor McGonagall said loudly, standing in front of the crowd. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend free time in your house common room."
"The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rule-breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the House Cup, a great honor."
"I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours."
"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting."
Professor McGonagall's gaze swept over the students, lingering for a moment on certain individuals. "I shall return when we are ready for you," she said, and then turned to leave.
"Lynn, do you know how they sort us?"
Hermione asked Lynn nervously. Although she had made every preparation, she was still anxious. Beside her, Neville also looked at Lynn eagerly, clutching the corner of his robe.
"Put on a hat."
Lynn didn't tell them anything scary out of bad taste; he was a good kid.
"Put on a hat?" Hermione couldn't quite comprehend it and repeated the phrase in confusion.
"You bastard!"
After Professor McGonagall left, the boy who had been humiliated earlier squeezed his way over furiously, bringing his two hulking henchmen with him.
"Do you know who I am?!" he said viciously, though since he was slightly shorter than Lynn, his imposing manner was lacking.
"Your pants—"
As soon as Lynn opened his mouth, the boy immediately grabbed his waistband tight, terrified they would inexplicably fall down again.
"—your pants didn't fall."
Seeing this awkward display, the nearby young wizards laughed again. Most of them had seen the comical scene outside the doors earlier and were now reminded of it.
Seeing this situation, the boy's face, originally flushed red, turned somewhat livid. He ground his teeth, looking like he wanted to tear Lynn apart alive.
"Let me perform a magic trick for you."
Lynn maintained that smiling appearance, without a hint of anger visible.
As he spoke, he fished out a steel pipe about a foot long from his pocket. Just as people thought the blond boy opposite him was about to get his skull cracked, Lynn gripped both ends of the steel pipe. Then, with extreme ease, he bent it downwards and subsequently tied it into a knot.
He gently tossed the steel pipe, now balled up into a knot, over to them. But the boy didn't dare catch it. There was a clang as metal struck the floor with a crisp sound.
"Is there a possibility that even if the three of you were tied together, you wouldn't be enough for me to beat with one hand?"
Telekinesis strong enough to flip a car could not only tie a knot in a steel pipe but could probably knit it into a sweater without issue. As the first superpower Lynn had learned, he had trained this ability quite well.
Now, not only did the boy lose all color in his face, but even the two hulking henchmen beside him went pale, attempting to hide behind the boy.
"Just kidding."
Lynn beckoned, and the knotted steel pipe on the floor flew back into his hand. "This is just a magic trick prop. I'm teasing you."
The young wizards nearby let out a sigh of relief. They really thought they had met a giant in human skin.
Although Lynn said it was a joke, the blond boy, feeling creeped out inside, made no further moves. Maintaining his posture, he let out a cold snort, muttered something nasty, and turned to leave.
"Who is that guy? He's so annoying."
"It's Malfoy," Neville whispered. "Draco Malfoy. Gran says the Malfoys aren't good people; they worked for You-Know-Who back in the day."
Before Harley could ask for details, ghosts passing through the wall startled the young wizards. After the ghosts left the room, Professor McGonagall returned.
"Now, form a line and follow me."
Professor McGonagall spoke concisely, leading the young wizards through the doors of the chamber and into the bustling Great Hall.
The magnificent Great Hall drew curious gazes from hundreds of eyes. Students sat on either side of four long tables, above which floated thousands of candles. Golden goblets reflected the candlelight, filling the room with brilliance.
The ceiling was a clear night sky, with countless stars twinkling overhead, gathering into a beautiful Milky Way.
Professor McGonagall walked to the front and placed a dirty, patched old hat on a four-legged stool. Just as the young wizards were examining it curiously, the hat ripped open at the brim like a mouth and sang in a peculiar tone:
(Here are the lyrics)
When the Sorting Hat's song ended, the old hat bowed its tip to the cheering and applauding room, then went still.
"When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted," Professor McGonagall said.
The moment her voice rang out, the entire hall fell silent. She was indeed a teacher with great presence, respected and revered by all students.
"Hannah Abbott!"
A young girl with two blonde pigtails stumbled out of the line, went up, and put on the hat.
"It's the niece of the Leaky Cauldron's owner!"
Harley immediately remembered the girl. It was her first time in the wizarding world, so all her memories were very distinct.
"HUFFLEPUFF!"
The Sorting Hat shouted out the house she was to go to.
All the new students craned their necks anxiously, waiting for their names to be called.
After a while, Professor McGonagall called out: "Hermione Granger!"
"Good luck, Hermione," Harley whispered.
"Mm!"
Hermione nodded and walked quickly out of the line.
"GRYFFINDOR!"
After the Sorting Hat shouted Hermione's house, she waved to Lynn and Harley, then happily walked quickly to the Gryffindor table.
After Neville, who had lost his toad, was sorted into Gryffindor, Professor McGonagall called Lynn's name.
"Lynn."
Lynn had no "surname"; Lynn was his full name.
Walking up unhurriedly, Lynn picked up the old Sorting Hat and gently placed it on his head. He was actually quite looking forward to seeing which house he would go to.
"Oh, look what I see here," the Sorting Hat's voice echoed in Lynn's mind. "A very clever child, and with a warm heart. You like helping others. Ravenclaw, Gryffindor, and Hufflepuff would all suit you well. You have a heart that thirsts for knowledge, the courage to help others, and sincerity toward friends."
"So where do you think I should go?"
Lynn spoke curiously to the Sorting Hat. "Or can I decide for myself?"
"I see in your heart the calmness to face difficulties and danger, and the courage to persist in the face of them. Therefore, I believe Gryffindor will allow you to display your talents to the fullest. There are many clever wizards, but not many who possess enough courage in their hearts to fight against adversity."
"Clever wizards don't necessarily all come from Ravenclaw. Just like Albus—he graduated from Gryffindor, ho ho ho."
The Sorting Hat spoke softly in Lynn's mind, like a gentle and kind elder. "Go to Gryffindor. Your future is destined to be wonderfully exciting."
"GRYFFINDOR!"
The Sorting Hat shouted loudly. Lynn took off the hat and stood up; Hermione was already waving to him from the table.
After waiting a while, Professor McGonagall called out: "Draco Malfoy."
The blond boy swaggered out of the crowd, but just as he stepped out of the line, his foot suddenly snagged on something, and he fell forward onto the floor.
Laughter erupted immediately. He got up somewhat disheveled, the haughty look on his face vanishing instantly.
Face black with rage, Draco scrambled up and quickened his pace. But perhaps because he was walking too fast, as he prepared to step up onto the dais, he suddenly stepped on empty air and slammed his forehead hard against the floor, practically performing a grand kowtow to Professor McGonagall.
Professor McGonagall's eyebrow twitched slightly as she bent down and reached out to pull Draco up, thinking to herself: What an unlucky child.
After enduring these setbacks, Draco finally got his wish and sat on the four-legged stool. The Sorting Hat had barely touched his head when it immediately shouted: "SLYTHERIN!"
Applause rang out from the Slytherin table, though laughter could be heard from the other houses, especially Gryffindor's long table.
Inexplicably, Draco felt a gaze that annoyed him particularly. He turned his head and met Lynn's smiling eyes. Subconsciously, Draco glared at him and mouthed, "You just wait."
Just as he turned his head, he suddenly felt a chill below his waist and stumbled. His pants, which had inexplicably slid down again, tripped him hard. As he fell, the hem of his robe flipped up, exposing two bare legs to the air—along with his dark green underwear.
The laughter exploded like a bomb at that moment. Students laughed until they were out of breath and hiccuping. Draco, wishing he could die right there in the Great Hall, frantically pulled up his pants. Clutching his waistband for dear life, he fled in defeat, though he stumbled again near the Slytherin table and nearly knocked someone over.
Lynn, with eyes pure and clear, had looked away early on. He certainly wouldn't harbor any mischievous thoughts of pranking a spoiled brat. He possessed a mature soul that was far removed from such low-brow humor.
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