Chapter 57: School Opens! The First Class!

Soon.

The raindrops fell like a deluge.

Cascading down the castle's towering spires and winding ramparts, the night sky was torn apart as if by an invisible hand, dazzling streaks of lightning slicing through the dark.

Accompanied by deafening peals of thunder overhead, the flashes of lightning alternately illuminated and obscured the entire castle, while a bizarre creature remained concealed beneath the eaves in the driving rain.

It simply stared quietly at Ian inside the dormitory.

Restless.

Poised for action.

The fragile window of the Ravenclaw dormitory clearly could not hope to bar its entry.

However.

At that exact moment.

"Clang!"

A crisp, resounding cry pierced the air, and a fiery red figure burst forth amidst the lightning, resembling a ray of dawn breaking through the darkness. The strange creature suddenly beat its wings, as though sensing a threat.

It hovered up and down like a flying manta ray, pursued relentlessly by the fiery red silhouette. In the blink of an eye, the two magical creatures vanished entirely into the shroud of night.

Everything fell silent.

As if nothing had happened at all.

The rain continued to pour.

Until the following morning.

As the depth of night and the fury of the storm gradually receded, the sky began to slowly pull back its heavy black curtain.

The raindrops transitioned from rapid and fierce to sparse, finally ceasing altogether, leaving only the pleasant patter of water droplets sliding gently from eaves and leaves.

On the horizon, a tender blue-purple hue quietly spread, signaling that a new day had begun.

"Why are you still asleep!"

William, with his green hair, had gone to bed the latest, yet he was also the first to wake up in the dormitory—rising even earlier than Ian's strictly disciplined biological clock.

"It's the first day of term! Do you want to be late? I've heard that Hogwarts doesn't let young wizards who are late enter the library!"

William's voice could not wake the deeply sleeping Ian, but the way he grabbed Ian's shoulders and shook him certainly could. When Ian wrenched himself free from the dream realm and opened his eyes, he was greeted by a sea of vibrant green hair.

"Where did this green meadow come from..."

Ian pushed William's head away.

He sat up, still half-asleep.

"That's my hair! Hair!"

William muttered to himself as he turned around to shake Michael, though the effect was far less noticeable; the big fellow's sleep quality had always been much better than that of any other race.

"Perhaps you should slap him."

Ian sat up before his bed and yawned.

He stared thoughtfully at William's hair.

Since the color green provides almost no shielding against ultraviolet rays, and mammals lack the ability to synthesize green pigments, humans would almost certainly never have natural green hair.

Therefore.

Clearly, William's ancestors must have undergone extremely dangerous magical transfigurations, much like the nose-less Voldemort, blending in bloodlines belonging to non-mammalian creatures.

Reptilian or perhaps amphibian—the kind that either hatches eggs or lays them.

"Good idea!"

William did not realize that Ian was currently tracing his ancestry. He took Ian's advice and brought his hand down in a fierce slap directly against Michael's chest.

"Thud!"

Michael's eyes popped wide open as he sat straight up.

"I told you to slap his face, not crush his ribs!" Ian was dumbfounded, feeling that his green-haired roommate belonged in Gryffindor rather than Ravenclaw.

"I just thought it would be more efficient that way, and perhaps more polite too," William replied with an awkward smile, looking rather embarrassed as he reached out to rub Michael's chest.

"I don't want politeness, I just want my life!" Michael scrambled backward in terror. He was more awake than anyone, looking entirely too alert and energized.

Adrenaline truly was a wonder.

"I'm sorry."

William's deeply sincere apology made Michael's expression—well, let's just say it made his expression look a bit better.

"Next time, please slap my face. My mom always woke me up that way—please don't worry about being impolite." Seeing Ian dart into the bathroom like a puff of smoke to hijack the facilities, Michael rubbed his aching chest and repeatedly instructed William.

The minor interlude passed.

The three young wizards quickly washed up one after another and headed down to the Great Hall for breakfast.

Porridge, bread rolls, orange juice, kippers, eggs and bacon, toast, buttered jam toast, cornflakes... these were the quintessential Hogwarts breakfasts.

Nutritious.

And delicious.

Most importantly, there was Ian's favorite wake-up lemonade. With a single cup downed, he felt instantly refreshed and began competing with his two roommates in breakfast consumption.

Unsurprisingly.

The solidly built Michael won the contest, Ian came in second, and William placed last. The defiant green-haired boy blamed his poor ranking on the chicken drumstick he had eaten the night before.

"My friend, the chicken drumstick is innocent."

Michael seemed to still be savoring the deliciousness of the previous night.

Well-fed and satisfied.

Ian and the other two sprinted up to the seventh floor of the castle—their first class of the term was Professor McGonagall's Transfiguration lesson, shared between Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff students.

Every class paired two houses together, with no fixed combinations.

This arrangement was designed to foster friendly competition and a drive to excel between the two houses, while also reflecting the reality that the number of new students at Hogwarts each year was truly not very large.

Even when the freshmen of two houses gathered in what seemed like a bustling classroom, the total number of students was only around thirty.

"There's actually a cat in the classroom!"

As soon as the three of them entered, they spotted a tabby cat resting on the teacher's desk.

When such a legendary scene unfolded right before his eyes, Ian, who had been eagerly anticipating it for over a week, immediately pulled out his pre-prepared freeze-dried raw meat.

However.

His action was a step too slow.

"Kitty cat, so fluffy, such a good kitty! This must be the professor's pet cat!"

Michael hummed a little tune, unleashed his mysterious athletic advantage, flashed forward, and darted past Ian to pet the cat first.

"Good morning, Professor McGonagall." Seeing Michael about to reach out with lightning speed and realizing he had lost his chance, Ian made an immediate decision.

As he bowed slightly toward the little cat, he smoothly slipped the freeze-dried meat back into the folds of his robes.

"What!"

Before Michael could react.

Professor McGonagall transformed back into her human form.

Looking at the stern-faced elderly cat-lady before him, the little black boy froze with his hand half-raised in the air, visibly and utterly at a loss.

"Good eyesight, Mr. Prince."

Ignoring Michael, whose face was beginning to flush red, Professor McGonagall cast a peculiar glance at Ian. Hesitating for a moment, she offered him a word of advice.

"While the classroom doesn't strictly forbid bringing food, food that has already begun to spoil will harm your health. I wouldn't advise you to be overly frugal in this regard."

As she spoke.

Professor McGonagall's gaze grew even more peculiar.

She had a nagging feeling that Ian's earlier demeanor hadn't looked like someone about to eat a snack.

[PS: The protagonist will get his own phoenix in the middle of this semester; it will be somewhat special.]