Hogwarts 1991

Chapter 61 The Slytherin Travel Guide
dear father:

(Dear Hogwarts board member, Sir Lucius of the famous pure-blood Malfoy family,...).
Just like you pictured me when I was a kid.

The Slytherin common room, this is the real Hogwarts.

It is different from Hufflepuff who is stupid, cowardly and inferior, nor is it Ravenclaw who is short-sighted and thinks he is smart, and it is not Gryffindor whose mind is full of mud.

Every breath here smells of magic.

But such a wonderful and magical place is called Slytherin's dungeon by those ignorant and stupid people in other colleges. (How could they know? After all, no outsiders have been in our Slytherin common room for 700 years)

Unlike other college common rooms (round, square, no fun, creative shapes).

Our place in Slytherin is divided up by several wide corridors - allowing all the different year groups to come together and form their own small groups. (We have a well-ordered place here, a real place to explore the mysteries of magic.)
There is also the biggest reason why those arrogant and stupid people think our college is a dungeon. They must think that they live underground, and the common room is a corridor, so it must be low and narrow.

What ignorant mudbloods, mongrels, they're a disgrace to wizards. (If Hogwarts is only worthy of learning magic from Slytherin House.)
Those people, especially Gryffindors.

How can you appreciate every bit of ingenuity, every ingenious workmanship in the Slytherin lounge.

A round green glowing magic lamp was hung from the ceiling on a black chain.

The soft lighting is set against the crystal glass windows that occupy half of the wall.

Not to mention looking through the glass to observe the wonderful changes of the green lake bottom outside, as well as the view of the sparkling lake above.

I can sit on the exquisitely carved coral chair like a work of art, and watch the mermaids singing heavenly songs and swim past the window; I can see the tentacles of giant squids sliding in the water and passing by the glass window; I can see all kinds of aquatic monsters and animals preying on them;

Everything around the lounge is made of rough, dark gray marble.

All kinds of snake-shaped brass sculptures, the whole body of a great pure-blood wizard, bust statues, and of course the exquisite fireplace with burning green magic flames, all these artistic decorations incomparably show the characteristics of our Slytherin house-eternal noble and powerful, cold and mysterious.

Not to mention the skulls that occasionally appear as decorations in the lounge, which further embellishes and deepens our Slytherin style.

I guess this must be left behind by the Muggles who wanted to break into Hogwarts back then.

Thinking of this makes me very happy.

Praise the great Slytherin!
Tonight, I will definitely sleep peacefully listening to the soft sound of the waves on the bottom of the lake outside the window beating against the window.

Father,

I am writing this letter specifically to tell you a good rest. I will face a Mudblood on Christmas Eve, which is the end of our first term in mid-December, under the guidance of your honorable friend, Head of Slytherin, Professor Snape.

It was the last time I wrote a letter, and I had to tell you in shame that I was accidentally attacked by a mad Muggle on the train and humiliated.

This is what you taught me - the shame of the Malfoy family must be washed away with blood.

Yes, you are absolutely right, Father!
I will once again prove the glory of the Malfoy family!The Mudblood was humiliated by the winner of the Duel Tournament.

I'll make that crazy Mudblood pay what he deserves, the price.

It's a pity that the half-breed Harry Potter couldn't participate in this competition because he was specially invited to participate in Quidditch.

otherwise……

……

Malfoy gradually became emotional, and the black quill 'rustled' on the parchment, but the writing left was getting weaker and weaker.

He had to dip his pen into the ink bottle next to him.

It's a pity that because the hands were too hard, they couldn't help trembling when they passed the parchment.

The ink stuck to the quill gradually dripped and spread on the parchment.

He cursed secretly, re-examined the large block of text he wrote just now, then let out a long breath, crumpled the parchment into a ball, and threw it into the fireplace.

Malfoy's mind was blank, since the last time he brought the letter from his father Lucius scolded him, he didn't know how to start writing to face his father now.

After thinking about it for a long time, my head was still as sticky as if it was full of slugs, without any thoughts.

——I didn't know how to speak just now, and the contents of the letter almost became a tourism brochure for Slytherin College.

Had to throw it away first.

Malfoy looked up.

It was late now, and there was hardly anyone else in the Slytherin common room.

He had no choice but to prepare to go back to his dormitory, and passed the bulletin board, on which were posted the notices about [Duel Competition] and [Duel Club] that he got from Professor Snape today.

(The bulletin board is supported by two arm-thick brass columns, from which four different kinds of long snakes start, intertwined and intertwined with each other to form a circular plate-shaped metal creation. The middle one is completely black and made of nail-thin stone walls. There are some parchment notices on it, most of which are secret language notices for recruiting newcomers in small group clubs in Slytherin.)

——As the sorting hat raps, the Slytherins here will make sincere friends, and the common ambition will make the members of each society unite secretly and make every effort to achieve its purpose.

Back in the dormitory Malfoy lay on the bed.

(The bed is a traditional four-poster bed with green silk draperies, and the silver thread embroidery on the bed cover is a giant snake biting its tail, its body endlessly looping and entangled)
The two guys, Gore and Krall, had already fallen asleep, snoring one after another.

Malfoy couldn't fall asleep for a long time even listening to the soft sound of the water from the bottom of the lake beating against the window outside the window.

For some reason, he always recalled what happened this afternoon in his mind, but it was not a scene that made him very happy.

Instead - the scene where Professor Snape threatened to question Quirrell.

But now what occupies his mind is the purple scarf on that Quirrell's head that emits a strange smell.

……

In the afternoon, after receiving the list of designated Slytherin personnel for the duel contest from Professor Snape himself.

Discover what Professor Snape wants to write about Professor Quirrell?
This got Malfoy's attention.

Is Quirrell, a timid fellow, teaching the MacGuffin a little lesson?

He couldn't help pricking up his ears, and deliberately slowed down a few steps.

I vaguely heard the two of them discussing something.

Trolls...levels in the underground corridors, Dumbledore's treasure...forbidden forest and other words.

Before he got closer to hear some clues, he felt a penetrating chill, and when he looked up, he saw the big purple scarf exuding a strong smell, but for some reason, his heart, eyes, and head were filled with that scarf, and he was deeply trapped in it, full of fear, but he couldn't get away.

It wasn't until Professor Snape kicked him out that he returned to the Slytherin common room with trembling legs and a pale face.

Originally, Malfoy planned to write this matter in a letter to tell his father, but for some reason, as soon as he had this plan, there was a dangerous feeling in his mind reminding himself that he must not write like this.

He didn't write for a long time. He knew something was wrong, but he could only comfort himself that Professor Snape was a powerful wizard. If something happened, he would definitely find out and tell his father Lucius.

And Dumbledore is there, even if they are as noble as their family, they have to admit that Dumbledore is from a noble family and is almost the most powerful wizard in the world.

It's just that Quirrell's purple scarf always appeared in his mind for some reason, and he couldn't forget it for a long time, and now he seemed to be able to smell the rotten garlic-like smell from his mouth and nose.

Malfoy turned around, and saw the chandelier hanging from the ceiling and connected to the chain, emitting a faint silver-white fluorescence.

The medieval tapestry hanging on the wall is constantly changing the picture, telling the great adventures of the famous Slytherin. Through the translucent crystal glass not far away, he looks out at the silent and dark lake.

——Shoals of fish, aquatic plants, squid's huge tentacles full of suckers float and swim in the dark green.

(End of this chapter)