Chapter 16

During breakfast the following day, Hermione hastened towards the long Slytherin table. She brushed off the hostile gazes from the Slytherins and walked directly up to Salim.

"Salim, I need to tell you about last night, we were..." Hermione was cut off before she could finish her sentence. Naturally, she would be interrupted. A Gryffindor Muggle wizard wandering into the heavily affected area, where the blood theory was rampant, might end up with Hermione being pointed at by a wand if a professor wasn't watching the scene at that moment.

"Hmph, a..."

"Hold on," Salim's smile reached Zabini across the table, "are you really going to use that word?"

Zabini was about to retort when Draco kicked him under the table. Salim exchanged a smile with the two and then turned his gaze back to Hermione. "You haven't had breakfast yet, go and eat before discussing anything else."

After Hermione walked away, Salim addressed Zabini and Draco while attending to his meal. "There's nothing wrong with taking pride in your bloodline. However, using it to harm others," Salim lifted his eyebrows and gave a pointed look to Zabini, "that's a childish, low-level approach. Blaise, I'm quite curious about your final grades."

"Final grades?" Zabini sneered, "What do those written grades really mean?"

"Although written results aren't all-encompassing, they can reveal quite a bit." Salim wiped his mouth and turned to Draco. "Would you like to listen along?"

Salim also encountered a Gryffindor welcome as he led Draco to the Gryffindor table—certainly not a pleasant one. Salim found himself impervious to Gryffindor's taunts, finding them rather juvenile and unworthy of his attention. However, Draco, who followed him, was different. Despite the significant changes Draco had undergone due to Salim's influence, Slytherin's ingrained hostility toward Gryffindor couldn't be erased in just a day or two. Fortunately, Draco understood that they were now in someone else's territory and thus emulated Salim by keeping silent.

"Hermione, the usual spot. I'll bring the bag there later, and don't forget to bring the book." Before Hermione finished her meal, Salim instructed Draco and left the Gryffindor table after a brief explanation.

"Hermione, did you inform him?" Harry quietly inquired of Hermione.

"Planning to."

"Why? It's really none of his business." Ronald's words were barely decipherable, his mouth stuffed with food.

"Even if I hadn't told him, Neville would have." Hermione firmly shifted the blame to Neville.

"What's this? A Slytherin spy infiltrating Gryffindor?" Ronald finally managed to swallow his food, his gaze shifting between Neville and Hermione. "Maybe two spies."

"I'm not going to waste my breath arguing with you. Neville, let's go." Hermione gave Ronald an exasperated look, gesturing for Neville to follow.

"Wait, Hermione. We're involved in this too. If there's something... you know? I think Harry and I should be in the loop."

"That's up to you, but I'll remind you to keep your mouths shut." Without looking back, Hermione led Neville away.

By the time Hermione and Neville reached the small classroom where the two were waiting, Salim and Draco had already arrived. Hermione had taken a detour to her dormitory to retrieve a book she had borrowed from Salim, wasting some time, as the Gryffindor common room was on the eighth floor.

"Alright, let's hear it. What's so urgent that you had to skip breakfast to tell me?" Only once everyone was seated did Salim turn his attention to Hermione.

"Salim, do you recall the fourth-floor corridor that Headmaster Dumbledore mentioned during the opening feast, the one students are forbidden from approaching? We found a large three-headed dog there last night." Hermione briefly recounted the events of the previous night to the group.

"A three-headed dog? You mean a Cerberus?" Salim rubbed his chin, feigning contemplation. "It must be restrained, otherwise you wouldn't have returned last night."

A three-headed dog was a highly dangerous magical creature, classified as a five-star threat. Confronting it head-on without proper strategy would likely lead to disaster. Even if both teams of attackers worked together, victory wasn't guaranteed. After all, most spells had little effect on creatures with a five-star danger rating.

"That's not the issue! It's guarding something—a large trapdoor. The dog was standing right over it." Hermione's tone was impassioned.

"So? What does that have to do with you?" Salim's response was chilly.

The others fell silent. Indeed, regardless of what the three-headed dog was guarding, what did a few first-year students have to do with it?

"Your curiosity is understandable, but have you considered your capabilities?" Salim crossed his arms, surveying the group. "Wanting to know is one thing, but understanding your limitations is crucial."

Curiosity is natural, but self-awareness is equally important—knowing what you can approach and what you should avoid.

Gryffindor's little lions are noticeably lagging behind the other three houses in this aspect. The young snakes of Slytherin tend to be more mature. They might be curious about what the three-headed dog guards, but they won't put themselves in harm's way. The eagles of Ravenclaw, well, they're probably more intrigued by the three-headed dog itself rather than what it's guarding. As for the little badgers of Hufflepuff, uh... they're hardly ever out and about at night. Even if they venture out during curfew hours, they'll likely just head to the nearby kitchen for food and not wander around the castle.

"If you're curious about the three-headed dog, you could read Casmander's writings. But if you're curious about the trapdoor, hehe, you might want to write your own suicide note first." Salim's words were clearly directed at Harry and Ronald. None of this interested Neville much. Hermione was equally pragmatic.

"Listening to you, it almost feels like you know something." Although Hermione was still quite young, her natural aptitude as a woman was well evident.

Glancing at Hermione, Salim contemplated for a moment before responding, "Seems like you guys want to play this adventure game, huh? I won't stop you, but you'll have to face the consequences on your own."

Before Salim arrived at Hogwarts, he grappled with whether he should involve himself in Harry Potter's affairs. If he didn't participate, then why attend Hogwarts at all? But diving in would inevitably lead to unexpected changes. Nonetheless, being at Hogwarts signaled that Salim was inclined to stir things up. After all, observing and participating in a story would offer different perspectives, with the scenery varying between the two paths.

"You might want to guess who's taking care of that dog. Let me give you a hint: I'm not interested in this matter, and I'm happy to leave the adventure to you." Salim felt like an NPC, waiting for the protagonist to accept quests and learn skills.

"Hagrid!" Harry and the others were instantly intrigued, but Hermione and Neville remained composed

.

"Now that you're all in the loop, are you still in the mood to keep me company?" Salim wanted to wrap up the conversation and get on with his own tasks. He needed to find Snape and even Filch. Despite it being a Sunday, it was typically Salim's busiest day.

Hermione watched Salim's hesitation to speak and felt a bit conflicted herself. Her rational side told her to steer clear of potentially dangerous matters, but her heart was eager to take risks and explore the unknown.

"Salim... do you think this is the right path for us?" Hermione finally managed to voice her concerns, albeit hesitantly.

Observing Hermione's internal conflict, Salim found it quite amusing. He had good reason to be amused; the clash between instinct and reason was a hallmark human phenomenon. However, he currently didn't feel like discussing this with Hermione.

"Ask your heart for guidance." Salim tapped his chest. "We can talk about returning books and such when you're back. I'll be here tonight."

After the three had left, Salim turned his attention to Neville, who remained behind. "Aren't you going?"

Neville shook his head. "I'm planning to practice the Disarming Charm today." Don't mistake Neville for someone as dull as Salim's second brother; he knew what he needed to do and had clear goals. Such individuals, even if not exceptionally gifted, often achieve significant accomplishments.

"How about Draco? Are you joining Neville or not?" Salim asked. Typically, on a Sunday, first-year students either slept in, caught up on their assignments, or wandered around the castle. First-years with a clear plan were a rarity.

"I'll go with Neville. It's fine for me." Draco shrugged.

Arching an eyebrow, Salim took a few trunks of blue potions from the trunk he'd brought and handed them to the two. "These are Energizing Potions. Since your magical power levels aren't quite there yet, these potions can save you a lot of time."

Energizing Potions were concoctions that restored magical power. They had minimal side effects on the body. The only drawback was that with repeated usage, a tolerance would develop, rendering the potions ineffective in the long run.

"Energizing Potions aren't exactly cheap. I recall a single trunk costing nearly five Galleons." Draco accepted the potion, looking at Salim. "And what about you?"

"I have other matters to attend to. Use these wisely, and don't hesitate. They won't be of any use to me." These potions and others were handed down by Salim's grandfather when he was at school. Salim consumed Energizing Potions like water and practiced spellcasting whenever he could spare time. The magical power of a young wizard like him naturally couldn't keep up, and waiting for it to replenish naturally would be a waste of time, especially in Schuyler—a place teeming with potential threats. The Energizing Potion had saved Salim a substantial amount of time.

"Alright, practice well on your own. I'm heading off." Salim waved his hand. "I'll see you at lunch."

After exiting the room, Salim made his way directly to Snape's office in the basement. He had a full agenda for the day and a lot to accomplish.

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