Bab 18: Azkaban
"If I were a wizard, I think I should send you to Azkaban. Trust me, child, Azkaban is your final destination," the Sorting Hat's words were serious, devoid of any jest.
"But I'm just a hat, Godric Gryffindor told me to cherish every student," the Sorting Hat fell silent, its voice resonating in Artel's ear.
"I think you'll do a lot in Slytherin, maybe when people want to send you to Azkaban, they can't," the Sorting Hat made its decision, and its voice echoed throughout the auditorium.
"Slytherin!" Cheers erupted, and Artel calmly placed the Sorting Hat down. In the last moment, he had used his knowledge of the Lord of the Rings to influence the Sorting Hat. It wouldn't reveal the truth about him to Dumbledore.
Artel left his seat, catching a glimpse of loss in Professor McGonagall's eyes but more concern. Hermione wore a slightly annoyed expression, her lips sealed, clearly unhappy about not being in the same house.
Walking over to the Slytherin table, Artel took a seat. Some older students and fellow Slytherins greeted him.
Draco moved closer to Artel and introduced himself, "My name is Draco Malfoy. You've probably heard my name, or at least heard of the Malfoy family. You go by the name Shelby, right? I don't recall any wizarding family with that name."
"I'm a Muggle-born wizard. As for what you said about Malfoy, sorry, never heard of it," Artel replied, looking at Draco without much interest.
This guy was a staunch advocate of pure-blood supremacy and exhibited strong prejudice against Muggles and half-bloods. Artel had no desire to be friendly with him.
Malfoy's expression soured, but considering they were in the Great Hall, he couldn't do much. He merely snorted in response.
Artel ignored him. If Malfoy wanted to apply his pure-blood supremacy nonsense to him, Artel wouldn't mind enlightening him about the Shelby family's history.
From the rise of the Shelby family to the present, they had spilled enemy blood, paved their way with the bones of adversaries, and forged their glory through unwavering determination. Artel knew the true strength of the Shelby name.
Voldemort had ruthlessly murdered tens of thousands of Muggles to build his Inferi army during his early years of power. Now, these Inferi were still guarding the Slytherin locket in the Inferi Lake. They will be of use in the future.
Artel pretended to be engrossed in the sorting ceremony but had his mind focused on the system.
****
[Ding!]
[The host has successfully joined Slytherin, completed the current main quest, and received a reward of 100 plot points.]
[Main quest updated!]
[Current Mission: Rise to Fame]
[Mission Objective: The Dark Lord's reputation will start from Slytherin. You must add at least 150 points to Slytherin this semester and win the Academy Cup!]
[Quest reward: Gandalf's spell notes, 1500 plot points.]
[Note: When the mission is completed, for every 1 point the host adds to Slytherin, you will receive 10 plot points as a reward. If you fail to get 150 points, the mission will fail, and there will be no reward!]
****
"So, if I can add 1,000 points, I can directly get 10,000 plot points?" Artel pondered but found it unlikely.
Even if he defeated Voldemort, Dumbledore probably wouldn't award him a thousand points.
"And according to the original plot, Gryffindor won this year's Academy Cup. When the term ends, Dumbledore will definitely find an excuse to give Gryffindor extra points. I need to find a way to deduct more points from Harry and Ron's house. Gotta turn those Grands into loosers."
Artel looked sympathetically at Harry and the others and then at Hermione, feeling a bit guilty.
I'm sorry, dear Hermione, but I'm going to betray your house, Gryffindor.
I just hope that Hermione, who worked so hard at the end, doesn't end up in tears.
The sorting ceremony concluded quickly, and Lavender Brown, who had been on the same boat with them, also joined Gryffindor. She was one of the few girls sorted into Gryffindor and would likely be Hermione's roommate.
As Artel realized this, he remembered that this familiar little wizard was Ron's ex-girlfriend, which had caused some jealousy in Hermione.
Hermione was indeed giving Artel a rather stern look, and she pursed her lips, appearing somewhat aggrieved.
Artel smiled faintly and winked at her.
Hermione pouted, slumped onto the table, and turned her head away.
To be honest, Artel couldn't recall having such a deep relationship with Hermione. After thinking about it, it might be because of the short time they spent together on the train, and Hogwarts was still a strange place for Hermione.
Most people tend to cling to the familiar in unfamiliar surroundings.
After the sorting ceremony, Dumbledore offered some guidance to the young wizards and provided various warnings. He spoke at length, and then, with a clap of his hands, the four long tables suddenly filled with food.
"The feast begins!"
Artel wiped his hands with a napkin, elegantly cut a piece of steak, and savored it slowly.
Hermione, sitting across from him, gazed at him, not entirely pleased. However, after being hungry all afternoon, she picked up a creamy pudding and started eating.
Beside her, Ron held a chicken leg in one hand, devouring it with gusto, his mouth filled with grease and emitting appreciative sounds. Hermione looked at him with a hint of annoyance and then glanced at the composed Artel, savoring his steak. She sighed softly.
"I should have joined Slytherin!"
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