HP: Hogwart's Journey

Robert was momentarily stunned. His first reaction wasn't to deal with the fox-like creatures, but rather to wonder—Professor Stan had clearly entered with a birdcage, so why didn't these creatures try to escape from the bottom of the cage? 

Though he was confused, his hands were still in motion. First, he used three repelling spells to trap the three creatures around the podium. Then, using a levitation charm, he controlled the birdcage to float above their heads. After adjusting its position, he released the spell. 

The fox-like creatures were once again trapped inside. 

Stan smiled in satisfaction. "Good job with the repelling charm. It's clear that Mr. Leslie is very fond of Quidditch and has even read *Quidditch Through the Ages*. This spell was quite popular in the 13th century when people used it to prevent the Golden Snitch from escaping the pitch." 

Stan turned to the young wizards in the class and said, "I know some of you think that being pure-blooded makes you inherently noble and grants you access to more knowledge." Several Slytherins raised their heads proudly, but Stan quickly changed his tone. "But does knowledge only reside in *The Standard Book of Spells*, hmm?" 

The Slytherins snickered. 

Stan shot them a glance and continued, "Ladies and gentlemen, you are wizards. You gain knowledge from books, but only the clever ones gain power. Magic will ultimately return to the world, and this world will be more dangerous than you think. As your Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, my job is to improve your ability to resist the darkness." 

The Hufflepuffs were puzzled, while the Slytherins looked somewhat alarmed. 

"Looks like even the pure-bloods have left a few notes behind. Well done," Stan sneered. "Books are for learning, not for worshiping on shelves. If you don't understand that, then being pure-blooded doesn't mean much." 

The Slytherins stirred, their tempers flaring. "Professor, take back your insult to pure-bloods!" 

"Oh?" Stan laughed lightly. "Perhaps I should ask your father how I should apologize. What do you think?" 

Just as his words hung in the air, a snowy owl appeared in the classroom, dropped off a letter, and flew away. 

The Slytherins eyed the envelope in their hands with suspicion. 

Stan sneered, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "What, not planning to read what your father wrote?" 

The Slytherin looked at Stan, then at the letter in his hand, before finally tearing it open. After reading it, his face turned pale. He quickly apologized to Stan and sat down, trembling. No matter how much the other Slytherins questioned him, he remained silent. 

Stan turned his gaze back to Robert. "Mr. Leslie, thank you for your demonstration. You may return to your seat. Due to your outstanding performance, Hufflepuff gains 20 points." 

The Hufflepuffs immediately showed their joy, cheering loudly. 

"Meanwhile, due to a certain student disrupting the class and contradicting the professor, Slytherin loses 20 points." 

The Slytherins glared at Robert, clearly blaming him for their lost points. 

As a result, the Slytherin students followed the traditional wizard way of resolving conflicts—dueling. 

For the Hufflepuff badgers, this wasn't a pleasant term. Most of them came from ordinary Muggle families and were poor at spellcasting, unable to be much help. 

Yet, none of them left. Instead, they stood quietly behind Robert, blocking the door, their wands trembling in their hands. 

Stan observed all of this with great interest, even clearing a large space in the room for the duel. 

The first to charge forward was the Slytherin who had lost points during the Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson. He raised his wand high and shouted, "You mudblood! You're the reason I…" 

Robert wasn't polite. A stunning spell shot out and knocked the insolent student unconscious, sending him straight to the hospital wing. Robert then leisurely said, "Apologies. Both my parents are wizards, and at least three generations of my family are as well… So, you might want to clean up that filthy mouth of yours." 

"Next!" Robert smirked, "Or should I say, is this all the pure-blooded Slytherins are capable of?" 

The Slytherins, enraged, ignored the rules of dueling and rushed in all at once, shouting "For the honor of pure-bloods!" as they swung their wands. Unknown curses flew toward Robert. 

The Hufflepuff badgers were displeased. What was this? They had agreed to a one-on-one duel, and now they were ganging up on him?! It wasn't fair to bully the honest ones! 

Unfortunately, only a few of them were able to cast spells correctly, and many of them accidentally blasted themselves. Eventually, one of the badgers discovered that books and desks could block the spells. 

The Slytherins, now venting their anger, threw curses without care. 

The concept of "pure-blood" generally referred to wizards whose parents and grandparents were all magical, with no Muggles in the family. In other words, three generations of wizards. 

In fact, given the decreasing number of wizards today, it was very hard to meet this standard. 

As Robert discovered that his ancestors included many wizards, most of whom were also his Hogwarts alumni, he couldn't help but mutter, "Hogwarts truly is a cradle for wizards." 

The Leslie family was ancient. They had migrated from Flower Country to the UK, intermarried with Muggles, but every generation had produced a wizard. After surviving the darkest period for wizards, they had started interacting with the wizarding world and sent their children to Hogwarts. 

One flaw that had always been pointed out about their family was their low reproductive capacity. They were mostly a single line with one heir per generation, yet they had always managed to carry on the family. It was truly a strange phenomenon. 

According to records from a very distant ancestor, their branch of the family hailed from a mystical family in Flower Country. After World War I, they had kept in touch—until ten years ago. Perhaps it was time to reconnect and explore Eastern magic, or perhaps they called it "art" instead, with magic users being referred to as "Xuanshi." 

While Robert idly mused over this, he picked up a heavy book with his left hand and threw it at a Slytherin who had been about to cast a dark spell at him. 

The thick textbook hit the Slytherin's nose, causing his head to snap back and making his spell miss its mark. A nearby Slytherin was struck by the curse, and his nostrils expanded to an absurd size. Black bats flew out from them and clung to his face, licking it. 

He screamed in horror and dashed toward the door, but was quickly blocked by the Hufflepuffs. 

Then, things took a turn for the worse. The badgers, grinning innocently, lifted their books, desks, and chairs, happily aiming them at the Slytherins' heads. 

Duang! 

(End of Chapter)