A Cruciatus Curse as a greeting?

  Or maybe a fiery death by Fiendfyre?

  Just thinking about the possible tragic fates awaiting him made Ivan shudder. He desperately tried to retrieve the original owner’s memories, but no matter how hard he racked his brain, nothing surfaced.

  Maybe it was because of the transmigration, but his memories felt fragmented, hidden deep within his mind. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t grasp them.

  “Damn it. If only I could recall more,” Ivan muttered, rubbing his temple in frustration. It seemed inevitable that he would have to master Legilimency before the end of the semester. Then, he could find a way to use the Pensieve in the Headmaster’s office to sort through his memories. Otherwise, he’d risk exposing himself.

  Speaking of which… he didn’t even know where his house was.

  A transmigrator reaching this level of cluelessness? That had to be a new record.

  “Harry Potter!”

  Just as Ivan was plotting how to sneak into the Restricted Section to learn Legilimency, Professor McGonagall’s sharp voice snapped him back to the Sorting Ceremony.

  It wasn’t just Ivan—every student and professor in the hall turned their attention to the stage. It was almost a repeat of when he had been called up, though naturally, his significance paled in comparison to the Boy Who Lived.

  A thin, bespectacled boy with messy hair stepped forward hesitantly. The hall erupted into thunderous appuse. The second-year Gryffindors sitting near Ivan cpped so enthusiastically their hands turned red. Their eyes fixated on Harry’s forehead, as if hoping to catch a glimpse of the legendary lightning-shaped scar.

  “Harry Potter? She means the Harry Potter?”

  “My mum told me he defeated You-Know-Who as a baby!”

  “I really hope he gets sorted into Gryffindor!”

  Ivan joined in the appuse, not wanting to stand out too much.

  Besides, he genuinely thought Harry deserved the recognition. The boy’s miserable childhood had been the price of his parents’ sacrifice.

  If not for Lily Potter giving her life to cast that powerful protective magic, Voldemort wouldn’t have lost his strength, and the wizarding world would have suffered far more casualties.

  When the Sorting Hat finally decred Harry a Gryffindor, the entire house erupted in cheers. The Weasley twins even hugged each other, shouting, “Potter! We got Potter!” Meanwhile, over at the Slytherin table, the appuse was noticeably subdued.

  Particurly among the Slytherin prefects in the front row. When the Sorting Hat mentioned that Harry had actually considered Slytherin before refusing, their expressions darkened.

  Ivan smirked to himself, watching it all unfold. Of course, this was just the halo of the Boy Who Lived at work. Once people realized that beyond his fame, Harry was just an ordinary eleven-year-old wizard, their enthusiasm would probably cool down.

  Still, when Ivan’s gaze swept over Dumbledore, who was watching Harry with an amused twinkle in his eyes, he suddenly understood why the Slytherin prefects looked so put out. With the Headmaster personally guiding the so-called Chosen One, Slytherin could pretty much kiss the House Cup goodbye for the next few years.

  As Harry stepped down from the stage, Gryffindor prefect Percy Weasley rushed forward to shake his hand, brimming with enthusiasm. Many students eagerly made space for him, hoping to chat with the famous Boy Who Lived.

  Even the Weasley twins ran over to join the excitement, leaving the seats beside Ivan completely empty.

  Not that he minded. Ivan had no intention of squeezing into the crowd. Instead, he focused on enjoying the feast before him. British cuisine was infamous for being, well… questionable, but the food at Hogwarts was surprisingly good. He figured that was thanks to the house-elves rather than the cooking skills of British wizards.

  Halfway through devouring a particurly rich piece of cake, Ivan suddenly felt a gaze on him. He looked up—and met the piercing silver-blue eyes of Albus Dumbledore.

  Ivan didn’t flinch. Instead, he put on an innocent, slightly shy smile, then casually stuffed another rge bite of cake into his mouth, swallowing it in a few quick chews.

  Perhaps it was Ivan’s sheer dedication to his food, or maybe Dumbledore’s interest had only been fleeting. Whatever the case, after returning his smile, the old wizard shifted his attention elsewhere.

  By the time the Sorting Ceremony ended, the students had been given ample time to eat. Ivan didn’t stop until he was absolutely stuffed. Only then did Dumbledore flick his wand, causing the remaining food to vanish as suddenly as it had appeared.

  While this was nothing new to the older students, Ivan, witnessing it for the first time, still found it quite magical.

  As the hall quieted, Dumbledore slowly rose to his feet. At once, all eyes turned to him.

  “Well, now that we’ve all had our fill, I have just a few words,” the Headmaster began, his voice echoing through the hall. He gnced at the new students, then let his eyes linger briefly on the Weasley twins.

  “A few start-of-term notices: First-years should note that the forest on the school grounds is strictly off-limits. This rule also applies to our older students, who, I might add, should already know better.”

  “Our caretaker, Mr. Filch, has asked me to remind you all that magic is not to be used in the corridors between csses.”

  “Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of term.”

  After rattling off the usual announcements, Dumbledore paused, then raised his voice slightly.

  “And finally, I must give you all a very serious warning: Anyone who does not wish to die a most painful death should stay away from the corridor on the right-hand side of the third floor this year!”

  Ivan nearly choked on air.

  What kind of btant bait was that?

  Saying something was dangerous but not expining why? Not even hinting at what made it so deadly? That was practically an open invitation for curious students to check it out.

  Sure enough, a few first-years chuckled under their breath. The older students, on the other hand, wore more serious expressions.

  Well, except for the Weasley twins, who were whispering to each other with matching mischievous grins. Ivan had a strong feeling they were already pnning a trip to the forbidden corridor.

  Of course, he doubted they’d get far. Either Dumbledore would have a friendly little chat with them beforehand, or Filch would be ordered to keep a very close eye on them.

  Wouldn’t want the pranksters triggering a catastrophe, after all.

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