Chapter 43: Grudges of the Previous Generation

"Gryffindor House……"

Dali murmured softly to himself, smiling as he greeted the classmates around him; he was already seated on the Gryffindor side, so he didn't need to change his seat.

"Great, we're probably going to be in the same house." Luoen said happily, "Everyone in my family is in Gryffindor, I'm sure I won't be an exception."

"I don't know which house I'll be sorted into." Harry said somewhat nervously.

"It would be best to be in Gryffindor; of course, the other houses aren't bad either, but it's best not to go to Slytherin. Those dark wizards basically all come from Slytherin, that mysterious person is one of them." Luoen said.

"Slytherin." Dali glanced at the Slytherin table and saw Malfoy glaring at him angrily.

"I feel like the Sorting Hat seemed to want to put me in Slytherin, but in the end I was placed in Gryffindor—was that the Hat's choice, or did someone else make the choice for it?"

Dali withdrew his gaze, glanced at the podium, and especially took a look at Professor Dengbulido.

Professor Dengbulido happened to look over at that moment and gave Dali a faint smile.

Next, the Sorting Ceremony continued.

Soon it was Luoen's turn; as expected, he was sorted into Gryffindor.

Then came Hermione, who was also sorted into Gryffindor.

Finally, it was Harry's turn.

When Harry Potter's name appeared, the entire hall fell silent, and everyone's eyes were fixed on him.

Many people, even though they knew Harry Potter had come to Hogwarts, felt it unreal because they hadn't seen him in person.

Only now did Professor McGonagall finally call out his name.

"I wonder which house he'll be sorted into." Dali chuckled.

Harry's sorting seemed to take a bit longer than others', but nothing unexpected happened; after about half a minute, the Sorting Hat loudly announced its decision—Gryffindor.

Warm applause swept through the hall; not only Gryffindor students clapped, but many from the other houses also applauded Harry—except for Slytherin.

Harry sat down beside Dali and let out a long sigh of relief.

"Congratulations, we're now housemates." Dali patted Harry's shoulder and said.

"Well, as long as you don't bully me, being your classmate isn't a bad thing." Harry laughed.

"Er..." Dali pressed his lips together, momentarily unsure what to say.

"What are you talking about?"

Luoen had a pumpkin pastry stuffed in his mouth and asked in a muffled voice.

"Nothing." Harry shook his head with a smile.

With the sorting finally settled, his unease greatly lessened, and Harry began to truly take in the whole hall and the people around him.

At this point, he really felt like he belonged here.

"Ah……"

Suddenly, Harry let out a soft gasp and reached up to cover the scar on his forehead.

"What's wrong?"

Dali asked immediately.

"My scar just sent a wave of burning pain when I saw that teacher." Harry frowned, pointing at a teacher on the podium.

He was a middle-aged man with oily black hair, a hooked nose, and a sallow complexion.

"He……"

Dali furrowed his brow.

Dali had noticed this teacher before, because his gaze had swept over them more than once.

Although the action was unintentional, it still aroused Dali's vigilance.

And now, Harry merely glancing at him caused his forehead scar to throb with pain—certainly not a good omen.

He knew very well that Harry's scar hid a highly malevolent aura, something even he found troublesome.

"Who is that teacher and what does he teach?" Dali asked Percy nearby.

This is Ron's brother; they had already chatted before and were familiar with each other.

"He's Professor Sineipu, head of Slytherin House, the professor who teaches Magic Pill class, though he seems unwilling to teach that subject and would rather teach Defense Against the Dark Arts—unfortunately, that class already has a teacher."

Percy said.

"Did you see the empty seat next to Professor Sineipu? That should have been Professor Quirrell's spot for teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts, but I heard he had an accident while traveling in Romania, got injured, and thus missed this Sorting Ceremony; I don't know when he'll be back."

"Oh, I see."

Dali nodded, his eyes blinking slightly as spiritual power flowed into them, and he gave a barely perceptible sideways glance toward the podium.

Under Spiritual Sight, Sineipu showed nothing special; as for whether he exuded an evil aura, Dali's current strength wasn't enough to sense it from this distance—he would have to wait until they were close enough to feel it properly.

"Oh, poor Professor Quirrell—he's always been a bit nervous and stammers when he speaks; he got injured in Romania this time, I don't know if he'll recover; if he doesn't, Professor Sineipu might very well end up teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts." Percy continued.

"I hope poor Professor Quirrell is alright."

Dali echoed the sentiment.

Harry leaned in, lowering his voice: "I feel Professor Sineipu doesn't like my appearance; what did I do to offend him?"

Dali pondered for a moment, then suddenly laughed: "There's no such thing as unfounded like or dislike; when this happens, it often represents a grudge from the previous generation."

"Huh? A grudge from the previous generation?"

Dali shrugged and continued: "That's how it's usually written in novels; also, judging by Sineipu's age, he's probably about the same age as your aunt and uncle, meaning they were likely classmates back then."

"Maybe Professor Sineipu even chased after your mother; of course, that also means he was your father's rival."

"It's only natural he'd bear you ill will, after all you resemble your aunt in only your eyes."

"Besides, you probably take after your uncle-in-law; if so, seeing his old rival, Sineipu would surely not give you a pleasant look."

"……" Harry.

Originally he had been carefully listening to Dali's analysis, but by the end he thought it was utterly absurd.

"By the way, there's still another possibility."

"Our British Empire's tradition, you say—could it be that your dad and Sineipu were actually a pair, and your aunt split them up? That's why he bears a grudge."

Dali said thoughtfully.

"Stop! Cut it out, you're getting more and more outrageous."

Harry was utterly Speechless.

"Hahaha, just a bold guess."

Dali laughed.

"I'd rather believe pigs can fly than believe your outrageous guess," Harry said.