Hogwarts: I am Snape

Chapter 99 Uninvited Guest

The auditorium's ceiling was enchanted, allowing a direct view of the sky outside.

Snape looked up at the ceiling. The storm was unusually fierce tonight, with black and purple clouds churning overhead, and a forked bolt of lightning flashing across the ceiling, illuminating the entire Great Hall as if it were daytime.

Looking down, Professor McGonagall was standing in front of the faculty desk, preparing to begin this year's Sorting Ceremony as usual.

“Where is the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher?” Abbott asked. “My dad said the board sent a big shot this time.”

He had barely finished speaking when, with a deafening clap of thunder, the auditorium doors were slammed open.

A tall figure stood at the doorway, not a single raindrop on him.

The stranger's smooth blond hair shimmered in the candlelight, and a silver-green cloak billowed behind him.

The man's expression was filled with indescribable arrogance, making him look like a fiery dragon that disregarded everyone around him.

Everyone in the auditorium turned to look at the uninvited guest. Suddenly, a forked bolt of lightning flashed across the ceiling again, illuminating the area behind the stranger.

It turned out that a house-elf with two large, bat-like ears and green eyes was following behind him.

The elf's old pillowcase was completely soaked, and it was shivering as it used its magic to hold up a semi-transparent umbrella for its master.

The man took off his cloak and tossed it behind him casually: "Don't catch it with your hands."

The little elf quickly used magic to catch its master's clothes from a distance, so as not to let its own hand touch them.

Its exposed skin was covered with red scars.

“Dobby…” Snape thought, narrowing his eyes. “He’s not free yet… and his situation seems much worse than it will be more than a decade from now.”

"Click, click."

The man started walking towards the faculty desk.

With each step he took, a crisp sound echoed in the auditorium, accompanied by a subtle creaking. It was the distinctive sound of handcrafted, hard-soled leather shoes walking on the stone floor.

The pace was neither too fast nor too slow, as if announcing to everyone: Look, a true pure-blooded nobleman has arrived.

Judging from his pretentious manner, the identity of the newcomer is self-evident.

"Pah!" Snape spat. "What are you pretending for!"

The stranger walked past the row of terrified freshmen standing in front of the faculty desk—who hurriedly made way for him—and got to Dumbledore's side.

“Professor Dumbledore, it’s been a long time,” he said in a very smooth voice, his chin still held high, without reaching out to Dumbledore. “It seems I haven’t missed the Sorting Ceremony.”

“Good evening, Abraxas,” Dumbledore said calmly. “I thought you weren’t coming.”

“Really? How could I miss such an important moment?” Abraxas Malfoy turned to face all the students, his gaze sweeping over the long tables of the four houses, lingering a few seconds on the Slytherin table, a slight smile playing on his lips.

"Students," his voice suddenly became loud and resonated throughout the auditorium, "you may have received many wrong ideas and methods in your past school education."

This statement was clearly pointed, and the teachers exchanged glances.

"However, I—Abraxas Malfoy—as a member of the Board of Trustees of the glorious school of Hogwarts, and as your Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher for the new school year, will show you what a truly noble wizarding education is."

The auditorium was completely silent.

“This guy doesn’t seem friendly,” Snape thought. “Nine years ago, this Mr. Malfoy orchestrated the resignation of the first Muggle-born Minister of Magic. I wonder what he’s trying to achieve by coming to Hogwarts…”

"Can we continue the Sorting Ceremony?" Professor McGonagall's voice instantly shattered the atmosphere Malfoy had created.

Professor McGonagall was carrying a three-legged stool with a tattered wizard's hat on it. The hat was patched upon patched, and there was a wide tear next to the brim that was worn and frayed.

Malfoy seemed about to say something, but Dumbledore stood up, took his arm, and made him sit down.

“Sit down, Abraxas,” he said, his voice gentle yet authoritative. “Look at these expectant young faces.”

Malfoy's face showed a hint of embarrassment and anger, but after meeting Dumbledore's sharp gaze behind his glasses, he obediently sat down next to the headmaster.

Professor McGonagall placed the stool on the ground in front of the new students. Then, the slit near the brim of her hat opened like a mouth, and the hat suddenly began to sing…

After the Sorting Hat sang, Professor McGonagall unfurled a large roll of parchment, and the first-year students took turns being sorted into their respective houses.

Snape's attention was not on the Sorting Ceremony; his gaze kept drifting to Malfoy in the teachers' table and the house-elves standing in the corner.

The little elf looked as if he might faint at any moment, but he remained upright, ready to answer his master's call. Whenever Malfoy's gaze swept in that direction, the little elf would involuntarily tremble.

"Quirinas Quirrell—"

Upon hearing the name, Snape looked up.

The little boy he had rescued from the lake not long ago stepped forward, and it was clear that he was trembling from head to toe.

Quirrell picked up the Sorting Hat, put it on his head, and sat down on the stool.

His gaze met Snape's eyes, and a look of surprise appeared on his face.

“Raven—” the Sorting Hat called out, but then its voice suddenly stopped.

"Hmm?" A soft voice whispered in Quirrell's ear, "Don't you want to go to Ravenclaw? But it's perfect for you. You have a brilliant mind, and Ravenclaw will fully satisfy your thirst for knowledge."

Quirrell gripped the edge of the stool tightly, his knuckles turning white, thinking to himself, "I want to go to Slytherin, I want..." He didn't seem to understand what he wanted either.

Amidst his chaotic thoughts, only one clear idea remained: the dark-eyed senior had saved him, and he wanted to be in the same college as that senior.

“Slytherin?” the faint voice asked. “Have you made up your mind? You know, in a moment’s hesitation, Ravenclaw will help you explore the unknown—don’t want to? Fine, since you’ve made up your mind—then go to Slytherin!”

"Slytherin!" The Sorting Hat made the final decision.

"What?" Snape wondered, a strange sense of accomplishment rising in his chest. "Voldemort's 'young, foolish, and easily fooled' servant has been lured to Slytherin by me?"

Quirrell had already taken off his hat, and his legs trembled slightly as he stumbled toward the Slytherin table. Sparse applause rang out from the table, and Snape stood up and sat down beside Quirrell.

“Hello,” Quirrell stammered, “thank you for saving me.”

His voice was so soft it was almost inaudible, and his eyes were fixed on the empty plate on the table.

“Don’t mention it,” Snape patted him on the shoulder, deliberately raising his voice to those around him, “From now on, you’ll be with me. If anyone bullies you, come find me.”

The branch ceremony continued, and the line gradually shortened.

Finally, the Sorting Ceremony ended. Professor McGonagall put away her Sorting Hat and stool and returned to the faculty dining table.

Dumbledore stood up and looked at the students with a smile.

"Welcome!" he said. "Welcome everyone to begin a new school year at Hogwarts! Before the feast begins, I'd like to say a few words. These are: Idiots! Crybabies! Trash! Squeaks! Let's begin!"

As he finished speaking, a mountain of delicious food appeared on the long table in an instant. The students cheered and began to enjoy the meal, and the auditorium was filled with laughter and the clinking of knives and forks.

However, Mr. Malfoy was not entirely satisfied with this.

He sat in the teachers' section, critically examining the gold plate in front of him. He picked up a piece of roast beef with his fork, smelled it, and then put it back on the plate with disgust.

“Professor Dumbledore,” Malfoy’s voice was not loud, but loud enough for the other professors nearby to hear, “I must say that the food at Hogwarts is… disappointing. The food is rather unpalatable and does not match the quality of my usual meals.”

Professor Slughorn nearly choked on his wine, while Professor Sprout glared angrily, and Dumbledore simply smiled and wiped his glasses.

“Abraxas,” he said, “I noticed you brought a house-elf. Hogwarts could share the kitchen with him, don’t you think?”

Malfoy sighed, nodded somewhat reluctantly, and put down his knife and fork.

He snapped his fingers, and Dobby immediately appeared beside him, his big ears trembling with fear.

“Go to the kitchen,” Malfoy commanded coldly. “Prepare my usual dinner. Remember, use the ingredients we brought.”

"Yes, Master, Dobby will go right away." The little elf bowed and disappeared with a snap.

A few minutes later, Dobby returned. His pillowcase was covered in flour and sauce, but he still carefully carried a silver tray with delicate dishes on it using magic.

“Master, your dinner…” Dobby’s voice was barely audible.

Malfoy didn't even glance at him, but simply waved his hand to signal him to put it down.

The little elf trembled as it placed the tray on the table, then quickly retreated to a corner.

After the banquet, Dumbledore stood up and smiled as he looked around the hall.

"Now, in case you didn't hear me clearly, please allow me to introduce you again, our new year's Defense Against the Dark Arts professor—Mr. Abraxas Malfoy. He is from Hogwarts—"

Before Dumbledore could finish speaking, Malfoy had already stood up and raised his hand to signal for quiet.

Dumbledore showed surprise for only a moment, then sat down naturally, looking calmly at Mr. Malfoy, as if he couldn't wait to hear him speak.

Some of the teachers made no attempt to hide their astonishment. Professor Flitwick swayed his short legs under the table in annoyance, while Professor McGonagall pursed her lips into a thin line. No teacher or student had ever interrupted Dumbledore before.

Many upperclassmen were secretly laughing: this new professor clearly didn't know the rules of Hogwarts.

“Thank you, Professor Dumbledore,” Malfoy said with a forced smile, his tone dismissive, as if the headmaster’s introduction was merely a formality. He adjusted his cuffs and slowly scanned the Great Hall.

"Gentlemen," he began, "the future of the wizarding world depends on how we raise the next generation. The Board of Directors takes this very seriously, and I—as the current head of the Malfoy family—cannot stand idly by."

Snape noticed that several upperclassmen in Slytherin sat up straight, their eyes gleaming with excitement. But many more were already quietly yawning or rolling their eyes.

“Hogwarts needs a true elite education, it needs to make young wizards understand that power is just as important as bloodline. And I will make sure that what you learn is worthy of your status.”

“The old methods of education—” Malfoy continued, a slight smile playing on his lips, “forgive my bluntness, but they were a complete waste of wizarding talent and blood. But no matter, starting this school year, I will personally teach you what truly noble wizards should know…”

His speech was short, but enough to distract most students.

When he finished speaking, there was only a few scattered applause in the hall—Dumbledore clapped first with a polite smile on his face, and a few professors also clapped symbolically a couple of times, but quickly stopped.

Before the students could even decide whether they should continue clapping, Dumbledore had already stood up.

“Thank you very much, Mr. Malfoy, your words… were very insightful.” He said cheerfully, as if his speech had been a brilliant performance. “Well then, I think we’ll conclude the dinner here. Everyone, please return to your dormitories in an orderly fashion to prepare for tomorrow’s classes.”

The students immediately became noisy and got up to leave their seats.

Mr. Malfoy stood there, watching them leave with a cold gaze. His eyes lingered on the Muggle-born students for a moment, a hint of contempt flashing in them.

“See you later,” Snape said to Abbott and the others. “You guys go to the dorms first, take Quirrell with you. I’ll go keep order and give directions to the first-years and stuff.”

As he spoke, he turned around: "First-year students—please follow your prefect—"

After the students and teachers had all left, Dumbledore also prepared to leave.

“Professor,” Snape called to him, walking quickly to his side, “where will you place that house-elf who just came with Mr. Malfoy?”

Dumbledore stopped in his tracks.

“He’ll be with Mr. Malfoy,” he said, seemingly puzzled as to why Snape was asking, “but I don’t think Mr. Malfoy will have him constantly around. Why are you asking, Severus?”

“Oh, I was just curious,” Snape replied casually. “It might be a little inappropriate for a foreign house-elf to be allowed to roam freely around the school.”

He paused for a moment, then said, “By the way, Professor, my mother has accepted the position at the school. As we discussed before, she will be Professor Sprout’s assistant in herbalism. What do you think? If possible, she will come to the school as soon as possible.”

“No problem,” Dumbledore said. “I’ve already told Pomona that she would be happy to have a good assistant.”

“Thank you, Professor,” Snape said, bowing slightly.

　Thank you to Yagami Suigetsu, EVA Lone Wolf, Yuebing, and Origin Supreme for the monthly tickets.

　　
　
(End of this chapter)