Hogwarts: I am the White Demon King

Soon, the swaying carriage stopped beside the stone steps outside Hogwarts' oaken doors. Everyone stepped down from the carriage in turn, following the crowd into the entrance hall of the castle.

Walking at the rear, Harry frequently looked back, his face etched with obvious worry.

"What's wrong, Harry?" Ron noticed his unusual behavior and couldn't help but ask.

"Hagrid didn't come. He always comes to greet the new students every year. I wonder how he's doing, and when he'll finish his business?" Harry replied, frowning with a low voice.

After joining the Order of the Phoenix, some news was no longer deliberately kept from them, so they all knew that Hagrid was not at school this time, but had gone to the giant tribe to carry out the dangerous task assigned by Dumbledore—trying to persuade the giants to support the Order of the Phoenix.

Sirius had revealed that this mission was not only difficult but also full of danger because Voldemort was also vying for the allegiance of the giant tribe, making conflict unavoidable.

Hermione's expression was equally solemn. She had also heard at the Order of the Phoenix meeting that Fudge was trying to interfere in Hogwarts affairs and had even sent his Undersecretary, Umbridge, to reside at the school.

She was very worried because contacting the giant tribe was strictly forbidden by the Ministry of Magic. Once Umbridge suspected something, that assertive Undersecretary might target Hagrid with various reasons, expel him from Hogwarts, or even send him to Azkaban.

The group vaguely discussed Hagrid's situation, passing through the entrance hall and stepping into the golden-lit Great Hall.

It was only at this moment that Harry realized that he hadn't felt it while staying at the Swan Manor, but his situation was actually much worse than he had expected.

The eyes of the entire Great Hall almost instantly focused on him, making him feel a suffocating sense of oppression.

Many younger wizards and their friends whispered, pointing at him with an excited yet contemptuous look.

Harry didn't even need to guess to know that those words wouldn't be anything good—liar, attention-seeker, or even harsher terms.

Whenever he passed by those people, they would pretend to shut up, but the disgust in their eyes was undisguised, as if they were looking at a piece of broken dung.

Harry kept his eyes straight ahead, following Ron along the Gryffindor table to the seats that Fred and George had saved in advance.

After Harry sat down, the students once again pointed and whispered about Harry.

"Harry, don't mind what those people think. Don't get angry," Hermione couldn't help but softly comfort him after sitting down.

Harry shrugged and waved his hand, pretending to be relaxed: "Oh, why should I be angry?"

"I only feel sorry for those people," he sneered, with a hint of disdain in his tone, "They don't have their own thoughts and will only blindly believe what's in the *Daily Prophet*, like puppets on a string."

"Even though there's news from Swan Media to compare, they still don't want to think about it. They're just simpletons."

"Besides, the *Daily Prophet* has long since fallen into being a second-rate tabloid, only using exaggerated reports to attract attention every day so that their newspapers can be sold. Believing it too much will directly turn you into an idiot, even worse than a simpleton."

"Mate," Ron was amused by Harry, "I think you're saying that more than half of the wizarding world are idiots."

"They are, they only want to believe what the Ministry of Magic wants them to see," Harry said indifferently, "If they weren't idiots, they could find the problem with a little bit of thought."

"Harry," Colin Creevey ran to Harry's side and shouted loudly, "I believe everything you say is true. Those media are slandering you. I will lead the Harry Potter Fan Club to support you as always."

Just then, Professor McGonagall led the first-year students into the Great Hall. Colin quickly ran back to his seat, waiting for the Sorting Ceremony to begin.

The first-year students were pale, seemingly worried about the upcoming test.

Looking at the shivering little ones in the line, Harry couldn't help but smile, instantly remembering when he was like this. Moreover, because he believed Sebastian's ghost story about fighting a giant octopus when crossing the Black Lake, he was even more awkward than these little ones back then.

Although recalling these past events is still a bit awkward now, Harry felt warm in his heart, and inadvertently, even the oppressive mood caused by everyone's discussion became brighter.

Amidst the anticipation of the entire school, the Sorting Hat moved and opened its mouth to sing loudly.

"Long ago, I was still a new hat..."

The Sorting Hat's song was completely different from previous years, no longer a humorous and lively tune, but a deep and magnetic tone. It娓娓道来told the story of the four founders of Hogwarts and used these past events to warn the wizards present to unite and face the challenges of the future together.

The Sorting Hat's voice stopped, and sparse applause rang out in the Great Hall. The students lowered their voices in twos and threes, discussing the Sorting Hat's meaningful warning. However, after feeling Professor McGonagall's stern gaze, the young wizards obediently closed their mouths, and the hall became quiet again.

Then, under the guidance of Professor McGonagall, the Sorting Ceremony proceeded in an orderly manner. She called out the names of the new students one after another, and the Sorting Hat announced their belonging based on the students' personalities.

After the Sorting Ceremony ended, Dumbledore stood up. He spread his arms and welcomed everyone with a warm and firm tone, and then announced the start of the feast.

"Look, that's Umbridge that Sirius told us about, the Undersecretary of the Ministry of Magic, our Defense Against the Dark Arts professor," Hermione whispered to everyone, "We also saw her in our third year. She suppressed the Dementors at the time, which led to the riot."

Following Hermione's gaze, Harry recognized her. He had also seen this person during the trial. She was sitting behind Fudge at the time, but she didn't say anything the entire time.

So this is Umbridge!

Today, she was wearing a pink cardigan, her gray-brown curly short hair clinging to her round face, her figure short and plump, and her face always had a sweet smile that made people uncomfortable.

The surrounding professors showed a slight look of disgust or discomfort when they saw this witch.

George cut his steak, glancing sideways at Umbridge, who was also cutting her steak: "I don't like her. She looks like a toad, a pink one at that."

"It's quite unappetizing," Ginny echoed, "Has no one ever told her that her pink taste has a big problem?"

The few lowered their voices and whispered.

"She's so old, but she still thinks she's a little girl who's not even ten years old."

"Sirius said that she's not married yet, and these kinds of old women are the scariest."

"Why?"

"Psychologically twisted, they can't stand seeing others happy."

"By the way, Harry," Fred winked at Harry, "Sirius speculated that this guy is Fudge's brain trust and often comes up with disgusting ideas."

"Yes," George nodded, "Dumbledore and your tragic experience must have her behind it, so we're going to help you get some simple revenge first and collect some interest from her."

Fred and George looked at each other, smiled evilly at the same time, and then signaled everyone to look towards the professor's table.

Just then, Umbridge, who had just taken a sip of wine, froze. She felt a warm stream flowing out of her nose.

She reached out and touched it, finding her hand red.

This is... a nosebleed?