Lycos stared blankly at the professor in the purple turban—only to meet a pair of piercing, icy eyes that starkly contradicted his trembling demeanor.
"S-S-Professor Snape, I'm terribly s-s-sorry…"
The moment their eyes met, the professor instantly reverted to a submissive posture, nervously bowing and apologizing repeatedly to the man beside him.
"Silence." The hook-nosed man with greasy hair raised his wand impatiently. With a wave, the spilled liquid vanished instantly.
Without so much as a glance at the stammering professor, he turned back to the line of first-years, his complex gaze locked onto a skinny boy with round glasses and bright green eyes…
Lycos quietly averted his own gaze.
A stuttering man in a turban, and a hook-nosed man with greasy black hair—those two features were all he needed to recognize the professors in front of him.
They were Professor Quirinus Quirrell, teacher of Defense Against the Dark Arts, and Professor Severus Snape, the Potions Master.
That realization set off alarm bells in Lycos's head.
Because he knew exactly who Quirrell was—a Death Eater working undercover.
In fact, Lord Voldemort himself was currently parasitically attached to the back of that very turban!
And now, this extremely dangerous man… had summoned Lycos to his office?
That couldn't be good.
With his mind in chaos, Lycos sat down stiffly at the far end of the Slytherin table. He forced a rigid smile as he exchanged greetings with a few upper-year students, then stared blankly at the empty plate in front of him, completely out of sync with the lively buzz in the hall.
He was starting to realize… this so-called "transmigration" wasn't going to be as simple as just avoiding the Golden Trio.
"I heard the kid who held us up for ten minutes is sitting over here?"
Lost in thought, Lycos suddenly heard a slow, drawling voice next to his ear.
He turned his head and saw a pale-faced boy with slick, platinum-blond hair.
Even though the boy was standing while Lycos sat, his chin was tilted so high it nearly pointed at the ceiling. His grey eyes had to roll downward—exaggeratedly so—to meet Lycos's.
He ended up showing the whites of his eyes, making the whole pose look somewhat ridiculous.
On either side of him stood two bulky boys, big enough that Lycos wouldn't have believed they were eleven if he hadn't seen them himself.
It didn't take long for Lycos to realize this trio could only be Draco Malfoy and his two infamous sidekicks.
"Something you need?" Lycos asked flatly.
His mind was still preoccupied with Quirrell and Voldemort. He had no time to entertain a spoiled rich kid.
"I'm just curious," Malfoy sneered, chin still raised. "Why did it take the Hat over ten minutes to sort you into Slytherin? It didn't even need to touch my head to know I belonged here."
A smug grin spread across his face, and his two cronies clapped like trained seals.
"Maybe because I had traits suited to other Houses too," Lycos replied nonchalantly, glancing at him without interest.
"Exactly what I thought," Malfoy sniffed. "Never heard of any pure-blood family named 'Hayden.' No wonder the Hat had such a hard time with you."
He raised his eyebrows arrogantly. "Still, consider yourself lucky. For a half-blood, getting into the best House at Hogwarts is no small feat."
"These are Crabbe and Goyle," he said, patting the arms of his oversized flunkies. "I'm Malfoy. Draco Malfoy. My father's a school governor."
"If you ever run into trouble, just drop my name. I've got your back."
Malfoy stood with his hands on his hips, making no effort to hide his sense of superiority—born and bred into him.
"How generous of you," Lycos replied with an exaggerated, clearly fake smile. "I'm Lycos Hayden. Pleasure."
He gave the briefest of introductions with the name he had only just learned minutes ago.
Malfoy, however, basked in his own arrogance, completely unaware of how disinterested Lycos was. He seemed to think Lycos was overwhelmed by his nobility and couldn't even respond properly.
"If you're going to stand there, could you not block the aisle?"
Malfoy's moment was cut short by a cold, level voice from behind.
He spun around furiously, clearly annoyed at being interrupted in the middle of his grand performance.
"You—"
The words caught in his throat.
Standing calmly in the aisle between the Slytherin and Ravenclaw tables was a girl who looked like she belonged on a porcelain doll stand. Her long, glossy blonde hair shimmered like strands of gold under the floating candlelight.
Her jade-green eyes were cool and unreadable. Though her words were directed at Malfoy and his crew, her expression made it clear she barely acknowledged their presence.
She couldn't have been more than eleven, but the frosty aura around her was more fitting for an ice queen than a first-year.
"Is there a problem? If not, move aside so others can be seated."
Malfoy and his two henchmen instinctively shuffled to the sides, leaving a wide-enough path.
"Thank you."
The blonde girl nodded curtly, brushing right past them without hesitation, and took a seat at the Slytherin table.
Several other first-years who had been blocked by the trio trailed in after her, quickly grabbing seats—though all of them deliberately avoided sitting too close to her.
"Wait a second… why did I even move aside for her?"
Only then did Malfoy realize how humiliating that had looked. He stomped his foot in frustration.
"Crabbe! Goyle! Why did you move aside?!" he snapped.
"I saw you move, so I moved too," Crabbe replied earnestly.
"I saw Crabbe move, so I moved too," said Goyle with equal sincerity.
Malfoy: "...You two are absolute idiots."
If not for the white-bearded old man rising to his feet at that moment, the three of them might have kept arguing for quite a while.
"Welcome!"
Professor Albus Dumbledore, with his long silver beard and twinkling eyes, spread his arms wide with a warm smile.
"Welcome to Hogwarts! Let the new school year begin!"
The headmaster had begun his speech.
Even Malfoy didn't dare cause trouble during the welcome feast, so he reluctantly pulled his two followers down beside Lycos.
But even after sitting, he couldn't help muttering:
"I didn't back off because I was scared of her, alright? I just didn't want anyone to be left standing when the Headmaster started speaking."
"Sure, sure. I believe you," Lycos replied with the fakest smile he could muster—showing all eight front teeth.