There was a burst of cheers from the long table belonging to Gryffindor.

"We have Potter!"

"We have Potter!"

The fact that the savior is going to school has always attracted the attention of the young wizards at Hogwarts - each of them has a different idea of ​​the savior.

But without exception, Harry should not be like this now - thin and pitiful, only his aura, set against the backdrop of those cat-like eyes, makes him stand out from the crowd.

A savior should be somewhat legendary.

Outstanding students from every college have tried to find the inheritance of the Big Four.

Slytherin's Chamber of Secrets, Ravenclaw's Diadem, Hufflepuff's Cup...

The Lions Court is no exception.

They are most keen on finding the legendary Sword of Gryffindor, but have never heard of anyone finding Gryffindor's secret treasure.

Until today——

Who would have thought that the Sword of Gryffindor was hidden in the Sorting Hat.

No matter how daring the little lion is, he would not go to the principal's office at night and give himself up for nothing.

Harry nodded his thanks to them and walked towards the table, silver sword in hand.

The hat hurriedly called out to him, "You rude little lion, give me back my sword."

McGonagall chimed in: "Yes, Mr. Potter, the Sword of Gryffindor does not belong to you."

"I'm just borrowing it to admire it." Harry remained calm and made up a lie. "The Sorting Hat said that it can only be pulled out when needed, which proves that I need it now."

Professor McGonagall was startled.

It seems... that's the truth.

The Sorting Hat clucked twice. "That just proves your Gryffindor identity, my dear little sir. Put it back quickly. It's empty inside. I'm not used to it."

"I can help you find a stick of similar size." Harry tried to bargain. It was hard to find a blacksmith in this world, and he didn't want to let go of a master-level weapon that would also be excellent in the witcher world.

The Sorting Hat wanted to jump up and hit Harry on the head: "Can a stick be the same as a sword? You haven't passed the test yet. This sword does not belong to you now."

Harry wanted to struggle a few more times.

"All right, Harry," said Headmaster Dumbledore, pushing up his glasses with a brilliant look in his eyes. "Return the sword to the poor old hat. It's the only friend it has left."

The Hat muttered, "Albus, you are an old friend of mine too."

"I still remember the scene when you presided over the sorting."

"You still have seven years, which is enough for you to find a way to truly own the sword." Dumbledore smiled, "Isn't it, Mr. Gryffindor?"

There was a louder and more undisguised sneer from the teachers' seats.

Harry looked over.

The man in a black robe, with slicked-back hair and kelp-like hair, was staring at him with disgust in his eyes.

When he looked into his own eyes, the disgust he felt became even stronger, almost tangibly overflowing.

"Mr. Potter?" Dumbledore took a look at the greasy hair, then he calmed down and turned his head away.

Harry nodded, "Oh, okay, for your sake."

He lifted the Sorting Hat and thrust his sword in reluctantly.

The Sorting Hat breathed a sigh of relief: "That's much better now. When you're ready, you can come find me."

Harry looked back every few steps as he reached the Gryffindor table.

Professor McGonagall coughed twice: "Okay, let's continue with the sorting. Next one... let me see..."

"You're awesome!" Harry was warmly welcomed as soon as he sat down.

The two twin boys, who had red hair and pockmarked faces like Ron, winked at Harry and said, "You're making such a big splash at the Sorting Ceremony."

“We never thought about it!”

"Oh, a natural Gryffindor."

"You are the great lion king."

"Thank you for the compliment." Harry's face changed, and his tone was as emotionless as before. "Forget about the Lion King. I have no interest in that."

"A king never reveals his ambitions." The twins sang in unison.

"Unless the time comes to ascend the throne."

"He is just a lion cub now..."

With a bang.

A fist came down hard.

"Don't act like a bitch." The boy, who also had red hair, looked more serious than the twins. "They are the most mischievous troublemakers in the entire Hogwarts. There's no need to take their words too seriously."

"Hello, Potter, I'm Percy Weasley, the Gryffindor prefect."

Harry raised his hand and rubbed his temple: "Okay, Prefect Weasley, I have a question for you."

The word "Prefect Weasley" made Percy a little lost.

He raised his head and said, "Of course, helping junior students solve their problems is what a prefect should do."

"Who is that greasy-haired guy?" Harry raised his head and looked towards the teachers' seats, just in time to meet Snape's disgusted gaze.

Oolong Hatter Koep?

Is there a professor at Hogwarts with this name?

He followed Harry's gaze and met Snape's gaze.

"Oil-Headed Kelp!" The twins' eyes brightened, "What an excellent name."

"You're so talented, Harry, come hang out with us."

"We will definitely be able to make a big splash again and again."

Percy lowered his head and lowered his voice, fearing that it would be heard by the teachers: "That professor is the head of Slytherin College, responsible for teaching Potions, and he has always disliked us Gryffindors."

Harry nodded, still looking at Snape.

Ron muttered, "It seems that Professor Snape doesn't like you very much, Harry?"

Snape snorted, looked away first and started talking to the professor next to him.

"You're right." Harry said with a smile, "He doesn't like me, and he hates..."

He raised his hand and touched his face, "I hate my appearance, especially my eyes."

"Oh? You have such handsome eyes." Ron shook his head.

Fred continued: "That's right, a lion king should have a pair of lion eyes!"

"So, this is also the symbol of the Lion King!" Brother George followed his brother and chanted, "Your Majesty, the great Lion King, you will ascend the throne tonight and sit on the throne!"

Harry fished a flask from his robes and placed it on the table. "If you two keep talking, I'm going to pour this down your throats."

"Potion?"

"Has our Lion King started to make potions to reward his warriors?"

The twins are still playing around.

Percy was a good student, he recognized what kind of potion it was immediately: "Potion of Oblivion, Harry did you try to make it yourself?"

"Well, I tried it before school started, and it worked pretty well." Harry nodded.

Fred wanted to continue his antics, but Ron pulled his brother's hair and - with a hint of revenge - began to tell people about Harry's achievements on the train.

One punch kills one kid.

Fred and George stuck their heads out and looked at Crabbe and Goyle at the Slytherin table from afar, compared their own body shapes, and then remained quiet and obedient.

The forgetfulness potion is not a good thing.

Harry was just about to put the potion away with satisfaction when he felt a sudden pain on the scar on his forehead. He quickly raised his head and met the gaze of Snape and... the professor next to Snape.

He frowned.

Do scars hurt?

This is the first time.

For so long in the Demon Hunter world, the scar has been peaceful. Several powerful sorcerers, such as Yennefer, Triss, and even Keira who is good at alchemy, have examined it for him. Apart from its special shape, there is nothing special about it.

So, something irritated my scar?

Snape?

A malicious look cannot hurt anyone, and I didn't feel any magical power attacking me just now.

And he and Snape had looked into each other's eyes many times.

Is it the professor next to you?

"Who is the one talking to Professor Snape?" After knowing that Snape was the professor of Potions, Harry had a better impression of him - even though his eyes were filled with malice. When Vesemir taught him, the malice was much greater than just a glance.

"Professor Quirrell," Percy introduced. "He was the professor of Muggle Studies last year, and he became the professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts this year."

Harry nodded and smiled. "Oh, he's really interesting."

Percy gave Harry a surprised look.

What's interesting about that professor who wraps his head with a turban and looks like an Indian?

The sorting was over and dinner was finished.

Dumbledore stood up and finished telling us what to be careful of - don't enter the Forbidden Forest, don't cast spells in the corridor, and don't enter the corridor on the right on the fourth floor.

Leading the students to sing the school song.

The magical aura finally settled down, sank into the body, and became closely connected with the castle.

Percy held up his hand, "First years, follow me. I'll take you to your dormitories."

Harry leaned over: "Prefect Weasley, I have to leave for a while."

"You won't be able to find your way this way." Another call from the prefect softened Percy's attitude. "You've just started school, what can you do?"

Harry said softly, with a firm tone: "Don't worry, I will find you."

"I have to go see Headmaster Dumbledore. I have something to tell him."

Every demon hunter is a good tracker.

He can even follow the scent from East London to West London. Even the best hound is no match for a witcher.

"Oh, Headmaster Dumbledore." Percy suddenly realized, nodded, and agreed, "Okay, then remember, the password to the dormitory is Dragon Scum."

"There's a portrait of the Fat Lady at the door. Just say the command to her."

Harry took note of it and turned to chase after Dumbledore.

Next to this old man is Professor Snape with a greasy hair.

"Oh, Harry." Dumbledore looked at him cheerfully, "Why don't you go to the dormitory and come to see me?"

"Yes, I have something I want to talk to you about." Harry nodded and gave Snape a smile that he thought was quite kind.

Snape grinned, almost gritting his teeth.

Dumbledore nodded thoughtfully: "Well, I also have something I want to talk to you about."

"Severus, do you want to come with me?"

Snape sneered. Harry was not imagining this. He was really gritting his teeth and said, "I won't disturb your gathering. Dumbledore, remember, you have to give me an explanation!"