Hogwarts: I, Tom, am really not Voldemort!

"First year students, first year students, come over here," Hagrid's massive form called out with a lantern in hand, just like every year.

Tom quietly mingled into the group of first years, but Hagrid saw through him at a glance.

"Tom, you're in the wrong place. Second years don't come this way, you should go the other way."

Caught red-handed, Tom had no choice but to regretfully leave the first year group and head to the other side.

Cassandra, who had been waiting for Tom, couldn't contain her curiosity and asked, "What are you planning this time?"

Tom said to Cassandra with a sigh, "Do you know what I regretted most last year during the start of the school year?"

Cassandra shook her head, "No idea."

"It's that on the way to the castle last year, I actually used Lumos Maxima instead of Fiendfyre to light the way.

This year, I wanted to perform a Fiendfyre light show for the first year students to illuminate their path, but unfortunately Hagrid wouldn't give me the chance."

"?"

Tom thought he had to find a way to get two of them.

One to taste, and one to use as a flying pet to show off.

Tom had even thought of a name for them in an instant: B'T-X.

"Tom, what are you looking at?" Draco asked, noticing that Tom was lingering and staring at the empty space in front of the carriage.

"Thestrals, a beautiful magical creature.

Only those who have seen death can see them," Tom said slowly as he boarded the carriage, casually educating Draco.

"No wonder you can see them, after all, you've witnessed too much death."

Draco's words brought a flamboyant smile to Tom's face.

"Yes, Draco, and I've not only witnessed death, I've even transcended it."

It must be said that 12 years old is the age of chuunibyou.

Sitting at the Slytherin table again after several months, Tom watched the crowd chatting freely in the magnificent hall.

Tom felt once again that entering the second year was really great.

The Thestral carriages took them directly there.

Thinking about those poor first year children still trekking through the mountains and rivers, he felt a sense of joy in his heart.

The lively atmosphere in the hall reached its peak as Professor McGonagall entered with the Sorting Hat.

"Hahahahaha, I can't take it anymore."

"What is this? Is this still the Sorting Hat?"

"This is hilarious, who did this? Can I say well done?"

Looking at the Sorting Hat that had been washed clean and adorned with a beautiful little red flower, placed on the high stool, the entire student body of Hogwarts burst into laughter.

Cassandra looked at Draco and the others who were laughing so hard they were doubled over, then glanced at Tom, who was as calm and expressionless as if he already knew, and asked curiously, "Did you do this to the Sorting Hat?"

"Of course, this is my masterpiece," Tom said with a proud face, after all, this was the result of his hard work.

Cassandra was silent for a moment before speaking, but the words she uttered almost made the originally calm Tom choke on his saliva.

"Your design sense is as terrible as ever.

Why don't I design it next year, and you can redecorate the Sorting Hat according to my design?"

Tom finally managed to catch his breath, looked at Cassandra with a complex expression, and finally turned into a soft sigh: "Cassandra, you've gone bad."

Meanwhile, the first year students waiting outside the hall were not in as good a mood as the older students inside the hall.

After all, after six or seven hours of comprehensive indoctrination by unscrupulous seniors on the train, the idea of fighting Dumbledore had been deeply ingrained in the hearts of these young wizards.

The laughter coming from the hall at this moment only intensified the nervousness of these young wizards.

When the doors of the hall opened and Professor McGonagall led the young wizards into the hall, the young wizards gripped their wands tightly, consciously forming the battle formation that they had been temporarily trained in by unscrupulous seniors on the train.

As they walked towards the teacher's table, Dumbledore, who was sitting in the center, was the first to catch their eye.

The immense pressure of the past few hours snapped the taut nerves of these 11-year-old wizards.

Someone, a brave young wizard, chose to follow the advice of the unscrupulous seniors and shouted, "Dumbledore, I'm going to fight you!"

With someone taking the lead, the first year wizards present all raised their wands and hurled the temporary curses they had learned at Dumbledore.

Professor McGonagall was stunned, the Hogwarts students present were stunned, the professors at the teacher's table were stunned, and Dumbledore was even more stunned.

Although these little curses couldn't cause any harm to Dumbledore, the lack of harm was made up for by the full insult.

This year's incoming young wizards' glorious feat of facing the final boss, the White Wizard, on the first day of school was destined to be passed down in the history of Hogwarts.

As for what the Sorting Hat was doing, it was still drooping its head in self-isolation.

The annual Sorting Song segment hadn't even started yet, so the newly enrolled wizards still hadn't figured out what the real Sorting process was all about.

In the end, it was Professor McGonagall who stepped forward to stop the farce, sternly asking, "Stop, what are you doing?"

"Professor, we really want to study at Hogwarts.

Every senior said that this year's Sorting theme is to face Headmaster Dumbledore's Fiendfyre path.

If, if we don't strike first, we will definitely, definitely be expelled."

As she spoke, a few sentimental young witches in the group secretly began to wipe away their tears.

Dumbledore was listening with a head full of black lines, and the veins on Professor McGonagall's forehead were twitching.

'Here we go again, these troublesome things never end, do they? I don't want to be this deputy headmistress anymore, whoever wants to do it can do it.'

The older cat lady was raging online.

Finally managing to calm down, Professor McGonagall, knowing that the fault didn't lie with the young wizards in front of her, tried her best to put on a kind smile and patiently explained, "No one will make you fight Dumbledore during Sorting.

Come here, children, line up, as long as you put this Sorting Hat on your head, it will help you choose the right house."

But when Professor McGonagall looked at the Sorting Hat, which still looked like it was dead, the anger surged up again uncontrollably.

The strength of her grip on the hat unconsciously increased, scaring the Sorting Hat.

'This professor is not easy to mess with.'

At this moment, the first year wizards reached a consensus, and quickly lined up tremblingly.

The real Sorting Ceremony, which had been delayed for so long, finally officially began.