Hogwarts: Atypical Slytherin

People's lives are full of constant choices, forward or backward? Left or right? There is no definite answer. Each direction has a different ending.

People can't say for sure, oh yes, this direction is good. During this process, it is difficult for others to make any decision for the parties involved, because good decisions must also be intertwined with bad events.

Philip is not a gambler, although business is always full of uncertainty. It requires estimation, planning, and investment. But he never imagined such a day.

If this thing hadn't happened, he might still be able to lie on his soft mattress and peek into a more wonderful world through the light from Malfoy or anyone else.

"Squibs cannot appear in front of others."

"Squibs are shameful, cursed, and unfavored by God. They are vicious, jealous, always stirring up trouble and being irrational."

"Squibs are psychologically twisted."

People say this all the time. So he can no longer openly participate in any topics that interest him, because he is a freak and should not be born in the world. How dare a "fake" who has usurped the glorious position of other people with outstanding talents dare to have it? Have the courage to engage in topics that don’t belong to him?

The number of Squibs is so rare that maybe one appears among hundreds of people. Their power is so weak. Compared with what wizards can do by waving their wands, they need to use their hands and feet to do it themselves.

If a squib appears at this time, raise your arms and shout: "This is not right!"

Then what awaits them must be the atonement table pointed by thousands of magic wands!

When people are not further oppressed, they always think that the status quo can be maintained.

Philip believed that he was just an ordinary person. He could not resist those things, let alone use his own future possibilities that were enough to maintain a bleak life to gamble on an almost impossible way out.

That's stupid. Only a fool would choose such a path.

But now, this strange thought actually appeared in his cold head again.

This day came early, just like the unreasonable wizards who bluntly said to him when faced with any feasible plan at any moment: "It's just a squib, I don't care about you."

Such words, such words. Their attitude said it all, Philip.

This day will come sooner or later.

And he didn't think about fighting, no, no, maybe he did, but as he was being belittled day after day, that kind of shouting voice gradually disappeared in his head.

Why should it be me?

He is inherently inferior to others, he has arms and legs and an eloquent tongue, and just because he doesn't have those, vague abilities, he can't do anything?

Some people have low magic power and are so stupid that they cannot even understand the magic circle that they can understand at a glance, but they can escape such a bad situation just because they have the so-called "magic power". Parents will lament their children's bad luck, but they won't hate their magical children as much as they would a squib.

It's so weird.

Maybe it's because I thought of something exciting. Phillip felt his body starting to heat up. After walking in a certain direction for who knows how long, the wind and snow froze his eyelashes, and he felt cold and heat intertwined in his body.

"Forward or retreat...?" he asked himself. "Stay where you are or look for a way out?"

He seemed to be asking himself, but his steps never stopped for a moment.

"Maybe they just want me to die." He wanted to laugh, but his face was frozen. "This is not something I can choose."

He collapsed quickly.

Then, something as hot as burning fire covered his face, covering up the white burning light that could not be eliminated even if he closed his eyes.

Darkness arrives as expected, and the brain stops functioning.

When he woke up again, he was in a simple house filled with the smell of mold.

The house here has only four walls, and the cold wind is howling outside the dilapidated courtyard. The strange thing is that there is no chill inside.

He was warm, not a weird hot feeling, but really warm.

After changing clothes, there were small sounds of quarreling beside them.

He closed his eyes tightly, his ears gradually woke up from the buzzing, and the sounds around him became clear.

Like an old radio picking up frequencies again, he gradually began to understand the words that popped out of the voices.

Even so, it took him a while to listen, and no one could pat him on the head to get the messed up parts to work again.

"Raggedy, renovated, dirty!"

"The lowest price!"

Phillip turned his head to look, and the person making the deep voice was a cunning and ugly goblin. The goblin was dressed luxuriously, and his overly long robe hung down from the high chair, reflecting the dark light of the gold and silver threads. From time to time, he lifted his feet on the high stool in disgust, hoping not to contaminate even a single bit of the ground.

His hand was impatiently turning a familiar shining object that Philip could not see clearly.

"I have just emerged from the tiger's den and entered the wolf's den." He thought helplessly.

Goblins are truly beast-like creatures. Just like their rude personalities, their reflexes are also first-class. At least this one is like that.

The ugly adult male goblin awoken his gaze from in front of him as he was the first to notice his awakening. The goblin pointed at Philip with his long nails and made a malicious smile.

The quarrel stopped, and people threw Diffraction over him because he briefly stopped for a moment.

The goblin put the thing into his pocket.

"All in all." said a vague, yellow figure on the opposite side, "the price of such repairs has exceeded the budget we had previously negotiated."

"Miss," said the cunning creature, "it is not easy to find such a shabby house. If it weren't for the difficulty of repairing it, how could the Muggles sell it to us at such a ridiculously low price?"

"It would be cheaper if we packed it up."

"I need a construction team." Another female voice replied, mixed with the hum of the wind and snow, "Using your internal prices, the commission you drew for these two orders has exceeded the original value."

"Don't try to deceive me, sir, I have far better information than you." The female voice sounded very cold, mixed with displeasure, and in the end it turned into a sincere persuasion, "I can do it myself. I am doing this kind of thing, but I am willing to give you the opportunity because our cooperation has been very pleasant before, and I am willing to let you earn a little more."

"This is really..." said the creature. "This is really special."

"The gold galleons will be in your hands." The woman's hand gently stroked the smooth black fur between her arms. "And how much money you will give to others depends on what you want. How do you like it?"

"Okay." The goblin replied pleasantly.

The two parties pressed their fingerprints in the simple and dilapidated room: "Although it is rare to see such a game, if you still have needs in this regard, please feel free to come to me, ladies."