Afterwards, Dumbledore issued a plot task, emphasizing the danger on the right side of the fourth-floor corridor.
To this, John could only complain inwardly, "Isn't this just encouraging the curious Gryffindors to check it out?"
Then came the Sorting Ceremony, with the ever-consistent Hannah Abbott going first, who was sorted into Hufflepuff.
When it was John's turn, Hermione had already been sorted into Gryffindor and was eagerly watching him, hoping they wouldn't be separated.
"John Wick," Professor McGonagall called out his name, and John stepped forward.
With his smooth, black hair, exquisite features, and perfectly fitted wizard robes, the foreign girls, who mature earlier than those in China, blushed and whispered about the handsome boy.
Approaching the Sorting Hat, John noticed a spider working on its web on the hat's brim and almost recoiled in disgust. While he had a general impression of wizards being unkempt, this was too dirty.
Did Professor McGonagall not find it disgusting to hold?
The Sorting Hat was placed on his head, and a vexed voice echoed in his mind.
"What an impolite young wizard, as arrogant as a Slytherin!"
John was embarrassed; he hadn't expected the Sorting Hat to read his thoughts.
Curious, he asked, "Is this Legilimency?"
"Legilimency? It's impressive that a young wizard like you knows such advanced magic, but no, it's not."
As the hat of Godric Gryffindor, the Sorting Hat used a more advanced method than Legilimency.
"What a difficult choice... You have courage and an adventurous spirit, diligence and a compassionate heart, cunning and ambition, a thirst for honor... This aligns well with Slytherin," the Sorting Hat mused aloud, leaving John stunned.
Wait a minute, you didn't mention anything about wisdom—are you implying I'm stupid? That's too much!
But the main point was, how could he be aligned with Slytherin?
He wasn't a pureblood, and Slytherins were known for their pureblood obsession, which made them natural enemies for someone like him.
As for ambition, John felt it was unfair. He just wanted to become a wizard on Dumbledore's level. What's wrong with that?
It's like saying you never dreamed of becoming Superman as a kid. At most, he wanted to dominate a school house, which was just like becoming a class president. Hardly ambitious.
This was slander, absolute slander!
Despite his mental protests, the Sorting Hat eventually shouted out the answer after much hesitation.
"Slytherin!"
"What?" John was dumbfounded. A Muggle-born sorted into Slytherin?
Everyone knew Slytherin was obsessed with purebloods. As a Muggle-born, he'd be labeled a Mudblood and bullied.
The Sorting Hat replied calmly, "Don't worry, young wizard, your honor will win over the Slytherins."
"I suspect you're getting back at me for criticizing you," John muttered.
The Sorting Hat's decision was final, even Dumbledore couldn't change it.
Left with no choice, John trudged towards the Slytherin table. He received worried glances from Hermione and Neville at the Gryffindor table.
"Life isn't easy," John sighed, noticing the only empty seat was next to Malfoy.
As he sat down, Malfoy, mistaking him for a pureblood due to his good looks and manners, extended a proud hand.
"Draco Malfoy, of the noble House of Malfoy," Malfoy said, looking down his nose like a peacock displaying its feathers.
John shook his hand politely. "John Wick."
Malfoy appreciated John's respectful attitude, unlike that Harry Potter.
Though John wasn't from the Sacred Twenty-Eight, Malfoy decided to treat him well because of his demeanor.
"Are you a pureblood or a half-blood?" Malfoy asked proudly.
John glanced at Malfoy's proud expression and replied calmly, "Neither."
Malfoy's expression froze. Neither? That meant he was a Muggle-born.
"You're a Mudblood," Malfoy said instinctively.
The next moment, his jaw was hit, and he saw the scene around him blur.
Crabbe's shriek and Goyle's wail filled his ears, followed by commotion in the hall and Professor McGonagall's reprimand.
Malfoy spent his first night in the hospital wing.
...
The first Thursday of term.
"Ah, life is always full of surprises," John sighed, wiping a plaque in the trophy room with the elegance of a butler.
Filch, supervising him, turned away, unable to bear it.
John had attacked a school governor's son on the first day, and the fact that he was only cleaning trophies was already lenient.
Not to mention he had stabbed Goyle's hand with a fork and slammed a student's head into the table.
Though Malfoy had started it with his insult, John's reaction was considered excessive.
Slytherin lost a significant amount of points at the start of term, and Snape's face was so dark it could drip water.
If it weren't for Dumbledore's intervention, John might have been expelled.
As punishment, John had to clean trophies in the Trophy Room for two months.
Because of this, John's name became well-known throughout Hogwarts at the very beginning of the term. He was undoubtedly the most prominent student this year.
Filch's cat, Mrs. Norris, licked the fur on her paw. Despite being a large Maine Coon, she was painfully thin. John finished his work for the day and waved at Mrs. Norris.
"Goodbye, Mrs. Norris. I'll bring you some cat food tomorrow. Look how skinny you are."
Before Filch could get angry, John quickly left the Trophy Room.
Returning to the Slytherin common room, John's presence caused the talking to cease instantly. The young wizards inside were all fearful of his fierce behavior on the first day, and some even started calling him the "Boogeyman."
Because of his dark hair and the way he fought that day, he earned this nickname. The term held a similar meaning to a malevolent spirit, showing their fear of John.
John didn't mind. The fight had been part of his strategy. As a Muggle-born wizard, the best way to avoid being bullied in Slytherin was to establish his own reputation.
Clearly, he had succeeded. The downside was that he had no friends in Slytherin, but there were benefits. He had triggered a series of quests titled "Boogeyman," and upon completing 100 hours of night patrol, he would earn a "Boogeyman" blessing.
...
Back in his room, John appreciated the single room he had been given, as it was believed this would prevent further conflicts with others. This arrangement suited him well, as it allowed him to keep a dog and continue his training.
Three-month-old Tom was very active, leaping around the room and occasionally bothering the snowy owl, Basil. However, Basil usually responded with a flap of his wings, leaving Tom subdued for a while before he resumed his antics.
John's first task upon returning was to begin his training. This was a daily routine for him and also a method to accumulate magic.
[Physical Conditioning: Improve compatibility with magic through exercise, absorbing magic in the process.]
"Where's the promise of being a wizard apprentice? It feels like I'm becoming a berserker," John mused, touching his noticeably growing muscles. Was it really appropriate for a first-year student to have eight-pack abs?
Accumulating magic through physical training was unusual, but it was how he had always done it, and it had become a habit. After a shower, he ended his day.