Having eaten and drunk his fill.
The food and plates all vanished.
Dumbledore stood up: "Before we disperse, I would like to say a few words."
The old wizard cleared his throat and began, "First, regardless of year, regardless of house, anyone, please note my wording, anyone! Is forbidden from entering the Forbidden Forest."
As he said this, Dumbledore clearly targeted the Gryffindor table.
Clark heard Fred and George muttering nearby:
"I'm not 'anyone', I'm Fred, so I can go there."
"Exactly right. I just arrived late, didn't even catch the banquet, and only heard the headmaster saying something about 'entering the Forbidden Forest'. What a coincidence."
After speaking, the brothers looked at each other and snickered mischievously.
On the stage, Dumbledore continued his speech: "Secondly, Mr. Filch has reminded me that he often sees people casting magic in the corridors... As everyone knows, this is a serious violation of school rules, you'd better take note."
Clark blinked.
He didn't know who 'Mr. Filch' was, but he understood Headmaster Dumbledore's subtext: Casting spells in the corridor? Okay. But be careful not to get caught.
"As for the third point, it is forbidden to approach the corridor on the right side of the fourth floor of the castle. If you do not wish to encounter an accident, it is best to stay away from that place." After stating all the new term notices, Dumbledore smiled kindly like an old neighbor: "Finally, let us sing the school song together. I'll start, Hogwarts, Hogwarts... sing together!"
Clark was somewhat at a loss.
Because he had no idea how to sing the school song.
So, he decisively chose to just open his mouth without making a sound.
After the chaotic chorus of the school song finished, the banquet ended.
Clark followed the Gryffindor prefect, the quiet Percy, out of the Great Hall.
Continuously going up the marble stairs, they arrived in front of a huge oil painting.
"This is the Fat Lady, who guards the entrance to the Gryffindor common room for us," Percy introduced to the new students, extending his hand.
In the frame, a plump woman wearing a floor-length dress and with curly hair giggled: "It is my honor to guard this place. Percy, are these little ones the new wizards joining Gryffindor?"
"Yes, my lady, these are all first-year students." Percy nodded slightly and clearly stated today's password: "Caput Draconis."
Hearing the password, the Fat Lady's portrait opened automatically, revealing a round hole behind it.
Crawling through the round hole, a comfortable circular room appeared before their eyes.
The room was filled with soft armchairs, and there were two spiral staircases leading to the boys' and girls' dormitories respectively.
"It's too late today, I won't ramble on. There are accommodation arrangements on the wall, go take a look, and hurry back to sleep," Percy waved to the new students, then yawned and walked up the spiral staircase on the left.
Surprisingly, Clark was assigned to the same dormitory as Harry and Ron. The last roommate was the round-faced boy Neville who lost his toad on the train.
"A four-person room! Haha! We lucked out!" After seeing the accommodation arrangement, Ron excitedly pumped his fist.
Clark was puzzled.
Ron explained specifically: "For houses with more people like Gryffindor and Hufflepuff, dormitories are mostly five-person rooms. Houses with relatively fewer people like Ravenclaw are four-person or three-person rooms. As for Slytherin... those gloomy snakes actually live in single rooms! There's no justice."
Just then, Harry suddenly said, "Maybe it's because Clark alone counts as two people, so the school arranged it this way."
Clark was stunned, staring wide-eyed as if re-evaluating Harry.
Harry reacted, waving his hands repeatedly: "No, no, no, I didn't mean that..."
"Oh, what are you panicking for? I'm not angry. I just didn't expect you, Harry, wearing glasses and looking honest, to have such a sharp tongue." Clark exerted a little force, hooked Harry's neck, and successfully performed a headlock: "Don't worry, I'm not someone who can't take a joke. Being a big silly guy is fine, anyway, I'm extremely satisfied with my current body."
Being 'rubbed' by Clark, Harry finally relaxed.
Half an hour later—
Clark and the others finished washing up, changed into pajamas, and lay on the four-poster beds hung with deep red velvet curtains.
"Goodnight Harry, goodnight Ron, goodnight Neville." Clark yawned, closing his eyes as he spoke.
"Goodnight Clark."
"Good... goodnight..."
"Actually, my name is Ronald... forget it... pretend I didn't say anything, goodnight."
Roommates responded from left and right.
The atmosphere gradually quieted down.
Unfortunately, this silence lasted less than three minutes before Ron's voice rang out in the darkness: "By the way, do you guys have any favorite Quidditch stars?"
Neville hesitated for a second, but still replied: "I like Jewel Philip of the Montrose Magpies."
"Oh! Philip! He is indeed an amazing player!" Ron agreed.
At this time, Harry hesitated and said: "I... I don't know what Quidditch is..."
"Quidditch is a wizard sport, like a soccer game played on broomsticks." Clark clasped his hands behind his head and pouted: "Anyway, I think it's pretty boring."
"Huh?"
"Huh?"
Ron and Neville instantly lost their sleepiness, turned over simultaneously, and locked their gazes on Clark.
"What nonsense are you talking about?"
"This is the greatest sport in the world!"
Ron and Neville formed an alliance and began to crusade against Clark, the 'heretic'.
Unexpectedly, Clark insisted on his opinion: "The rules of Quidditch are problematic, the Seeker's tactical status is too high..."
He yawned: "Guys, now is not the time to discuss Quidditch, it's time to sleep."
"Alright, sleep."
Hearing this, Ron turned over reluctantly.
Neville did the same.
Harry silently noted the word 'Quidditch' in his heart and planned to figure out this sport when he had time, otherwise he wouldn't be able to join the dormitory's internal topics like today.
The atmosphere quieted down again.
Clark was about to fall asleep in a daze when suddenly, Ron sat up from the bed: "No, how can Quidditch be boring?"
Clark didn't answer.
Harry and Neville remained motionless and didn't reply either.
Seeing this, Ron sighed and had to lie down honestly.
Nothing more was said that night.
Clark's first class at Hogwarts was Charms.
The professor for this class was Filius Flitwick—a short but highly skilled wizard.
According to upper-year students, Professor Flitwick in his youth was a champion of the 'Wizard Dueling Competition' and held a significant position in the field of dueling.
"Good, very good, excellent!" Professor Flitwick stood on a stack of books, waving his hands vigorously: "You are like blank sheets of paper, possessing infinite possibilities! So for the first lesson, I will teach you some of the most efficient wand movements. Come, take out your wands, learn from me."
Clark learned very seriously.
In the final stage demonstration, he even won five points for Gryffindor.
This made him very happy.
However, in the second class, Clark couldn't be happy.
'Defense Against the Dark Arts', this most anticipated class, turned into a disaster in the hands of Quirinus Quirrell.
"Everyone open your textbooks... page eight... Today we will learn the concept of curses, and the diff... difference between curses and ordinary spells."
Professor Quirrell wore deep purple robes, covering himself tightly.
He stood on the podium, not even raising his head, just reading the content from the textbook word for word.
It would be fine if he were articulate, but he happened to stutter, making the young wizards, including Clark, feel very uncomfortable listening.
Feeling bored, Clark couldn't help but activate his X-ray vision, scanning the surrounding walls.
Worthy of being Hogwarts?
Even the walls have so many secrets.
Look at Professor Quirrell again.
Oh.
Not simple!
There's actually a face on the back of his head; no wonder he wears a turban all day.
Clark scratched his eyebrow, not thinking there was anything wrong.
Wizards.
Magic.
It's normal to have two faces.
Like him, he can shoot rays from his eyes.
So what if Professor Quirrell has a face on the back of his head?
Headmaster Dumbledore told him a few months ago that the greatness of magic is beyond imagination, and not to be surprised no matter what happens.
Clark took these words to heart.
That's why he was incredibly calm at this moment.
After looking around randomly with X-ray vision for a while, Clark still found it boring, so he simply turned off the 'X-ray magic'.
Unexpectedly, Professor Quirrell on the stage actually called his name: "Mr. Cavill, could you please... please read the content on page eight?"
"Okay, Professor." Clark stood up.
Causing Professor Quirrell to exclaim: "My... my god, you are really tall."
His comical performance made the young wizards burst into laughter, and the classroom was instantly filled with a cheerful atmosphere.
Seeing the students laugh, Professor Quirrell also laughed awkwardly.
When the laughter gradually subsided, he raised his hand to signal: "Mr. Cavill... you... you can start reading..."
Clark took a deep breath, raised the textbook, and read the content seriously.
Five minutes later, he put down the textbook.
Professor Quirrell nodded: "Very good, Gryffindor... adds... adds five points."
OK.
Another five points in hand.
So far, Clark has won ten points for Gryffindor.
Such a commendable performance greatly changed the impression many Gryffindor freshmen had of Clark.
When Professor Quirrell let Clark sit down, many people cast friendly glances at Clark.
"Now... we know the difference between ordinary spells and curses... Next, I will demonstrate for everyone... the bi... biting hex..." Quirrell stammered, taking out a cage prepared in advance from the desk.
Inside the cage were a few white mice.
The little lions perked up.
Right!
Who cares about that outdated content in books.
Casting spells is what they are really interested in!
Professor Quirrell mysteriously held up the cage and said to the students below: "Before demonstrating the biting hex, I want to cast an extremely useful spell, its name is the Un... Unlocking Charm, because of its effect, this spell is also called the 'Thief's Friend'."
Perhaps the nickname of the Unlocking Charm was indeed funny, but coming from Professor Quirrell's mouth, it wasn't funny at all.
Professor Quirrell seemed to realize this too. To prevent the atmosphere from cooling down, he rolled his eyes and suddenly said: "How about this, just watching isn't interesting... why don't you experience the wonder of the Unlocking Charm yourselves... I will teach you this spell, and whoever can... can open this specially made cage of mine, I will give Gryffindor twenty points... how about it?"
Twenty points!
So generous?
The Gryffindor freshmen instantly got excited.
"Alohomora... repeat after me... Alohomora... mora..." Professor Quirrell stammered.
After teaching for a full half-hour, the Gryffindor young wizards finally understood the correct incantation for the Unlocking Charm.
Next was the practical session.
Many young wizards raised their hands enthusiastically and went up to try one by one.
Unfortunately.
Not a single person could open Professor Quirrell's specially made wire cage.
Among them, Hermione came closest to success.
She made the lock of the wire cage move slightly, but ultimately failed.
"Anyone else? Does anyone else want to tr... try?" Professor Quirrell revealed a smug smile, holding the wire cage high.
Ron, who returned in defeat, sat back next to Clark and nudged him: "Go on, mate, go try. That's twenty points, enough for us to lose for half a day."
Gryffindor, actually doesn't have many points.
Twenty points is a considerable 'wealth'.
Clark thought for a moment, didn't shy away, and strode onto the podium.
For a moment, all eyes were focused on Clark.
Clark shook his wrist and raised his poplar wand.
Professor Quirrell smiled: "Looking up close, Mr. Cavill, you seem even... taller... Come on, let me see your skills. Everyone has three chances, and you are no exception..."
"Alohomora!" Clark clearly recited the spell.
However, the lock on the wire cage didn't move at all.
Seeing this, Clark couldn't help but twitch the corner of his mouth and cast the spell again: "Alohomora!"
The lock remained the same, as if silently mocking him.
"There is one last chance, Mr. Cavill... you must... must grasp it." Professor Quirrell narrowed his eyes and deliberately handed the cage forward.
Clark was silent for a moment, then in front of Professor Quirrell and all the freshmen, he put his wand back into his robe pocket.
This is...
Giving up?
Just when everyone thought so, Clark grabbed the lock of the wire cage and yanked it violently: "Alohomora!"
Crack!
The lock with the special spell was yanked off by Clark.
Not only that, Professor Quirrell, who was holding the wire cage, was inevitably pulled into a somersault and fell flat on his face.
In the classroom, the atmosphere was dead silent.
The students looked at Clark in disbelief, their brains completely crashing.
Clark sniffed and calmly held up the broken lock in his hand:
"Look everyone, my spell worked."