Sean passed by the third-year compartment and arrived at the second-year one. The moment he opened the door, ten second-year students turned to look at him in unison.
As Slytherin's pride, Sean held an almost legendary status among the younger students. To them, he was even more authoritative than the seventh-years.
The moment he entered, whispers broke out. They excitedly discussed his achievements, recounting his feats in hushed voices.
Only Draco seemed uninterested, sitting to the side, playing with his ferret, Andrew.
Sean walked over with Jerry in his arms. He carefully examined Andrew.
The ferret's fur was smooth and glossy, its appearance undeniably cute.
But after what had happened last term—with Voldemort possessing a rat—Sean couldn't help but stay cautious about this pet that shouldn't have existed.
"Draco, I brought Jerry to make a new friend," Sean said.
Jerry lazily glanced at Andrew, clearly uninterested. Andrew, on the other hand, curiously leaned forward, sniffing at Jerry.
Seeing Jerry show no reaction, Sean grew even more puzzled.
"Is it really just a normal ferret?"
But then—
Lucius and Narcissa's strange behavior didn't make sense.
"How long are you planning to stay? Your cat's already dozing off," Draco said.
"Looks like he's tired. I'll introduce them properly at school," Sean replied calmly.
He turned and walked back toward his compartment, glancing back at Andrew with lingering suspicion.
In the Gryffindor carriage, Harry and Ron sat chatting happily with other students. Everything seemed perfectly normal.
Meanwhile, at Malfoy Manor—
Narcissa clung to Lucius, sobbing uncontrollably, on the verge of collapse.
Lucius held her, forcing himself to remain calm as he patted her back.
"It'll be alright… it has to be."
After a six-hour journey, the students finally arrived at Hogsmeade Station as the sun set.
The first-years followed Hagrid to the boats, heading across the lake toward the Great Hall.
The older students rode carriages pulled by Thestrals, traveling along the castle walls to the main entrance.
"Sean, I spotted a really cute girl among the first-years," Cassius said excitedly during the ride.
Chris shot him a look of disdain.
Already a fourth-year, and still checking out first-year girls.
"Really? Point her out later," Sean replied casually.
"Hmph," Chris snorted.
Sean already knew two standout girls among this year's first-years—Ginny Weasley and Luna Lovegood, both future core members of Harry's group.
The Thestral carriages arrived earlier than the boats.
The older students entered the Great Hall first, dressed neatly in their robes, taking their seats at their respective house tables.
Outside the hall, Professor McGonagall gave her usual opening speech to the first-years.
More than forty young faces stared eagerly at the doors.
When they finally entered under the gaze of hundreds of older students, their nervousness and curiosity were written all over their faces.
"That one—blonde curls, long eyelashes, dimples," Cassius whispered, nudging Sean.
Sean scanned the crowd and quickly spotted her.
"She is pretty… but why do you look so creepy? Don't tell me you're eyeing a first-year," Sean said with disgust.
"Am I that kind of person? …Well, maybe I'll wait a few years," Cassius grinned.
"Hopeless," Chris sighed.
At the Gryffindor table, Ginny was welcomed warmly by her four brothers, along with Harry and Hermione. Among all the first-years, she had the strongest "support group" by far.
After Dumbledore's speech, the Sorting Ceremony began.
McGonagall called out names one by one.
"Luna Lovegood."
She was the fourth to be called.
"Hey, she's pretty too," Cassius whispered.
"I bet she'll be in Ravenclaw," Sean said.
"Oh, a mind full of curiosity… Ravenclaw suits you," the Sorting Hat declared almost instantly.
"Nice," Cassius said, impressed.
Penelope, Ravenclaw's fifth-year prefect, was the first to applaud, welcoming Luna.
"Next, Astoria Greengrass."
The blonde girl stepped forward.
As she sat on the stool, the Sorting Hat hesitated for a moment.
"So that's Draco's future wife," Sean suddenly recalled.
The Greengrass family was one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. Her older sister, Daphne Greengrass, was Draco's classmate.
During school, Draco would grow close to Pansy Parkinson—but in the end, he would marry Astoria.
"Another Greengrass… Slytherin would suit you, though Ravenclaw isn't a bad choice either," the Sorting Hat said thoughtfully.
Penelope looked hopeful.
Several Ravenclaw boys leaned forward eagerly.
At the Slytherin table, Daphne stared nervously.
"Slytherin… please be Slytherin…"
"It'd be a shame if your sister didn't join us," Pansy said.
"Pure-bloods belong in Slytherin," Draco added confidently.
Raised in a pure-blood family, Draco firmly believed in blood purity—but that belief would one day change.
"I want to be in the same house as my sister," Astoria murmured.
"Then Slytherin it is," the Sorting Hat declared.
"Yes!" Daphne let out a relieved breath.
"Well, well—another beauty for Slytherin," Cassius grinned.
"Behave yourself," Sean said, smacking him lightly on the head.
Astoria joined the Slytherin table, greeted with applause.
A few more names were called.
Then—
"Ginny Weasley."
Her brothers straightened immediately.
There was no doubt.
The moment the Sorting Hat touched her head, it said, "Another Weasley? Then Gryffindor, of course."
Cheers erupted from the Gryffindor table.
With a few more students sorted, the ceremony came to an end.
"Students, allow me to introduce this year's Defense Against the Dark Arts professor—Gilderoy Lockhart," Dumbledore announced.
Lockhart stood up, flashing a dazzling smile as he began introducing himself.
The students, however, whispered among themselves.
"I saw him the moment we came in! I can't believe he's our professor!" Hermione said excitedly to Harry and Ron.
At the Slytherin table, Cassius glanced at Lockhart.
"I don't like him. He looks like a playboy."
"Neither do I," Sean replied.
At the book signing, Sean had already observed Lockhart using his Magic vision.
He hadn't witnessed his actual spellcasting—but one thing was obvious.
His magical power was shockingly low.
Among adult wizards, Lockhart was near the bottom.
Magical power grew slowly with age—but more importantly, it required constant practice.
And Lockhart clearly hadn't practiced.
Compared to the previous three Defense Against the Dark Arts professors—
He was weaker than Morrissey.
Inferior to Jovic.
He wasn't even on Quirrell's level.
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