Hogwarts: From Little Wizard to White Lord

Over the next few days, Peter's life at Hogwarts gradually settled into a steady rhythm.

He attended classes each day, answered questions from the professors, and received direct feedback that satisfied his constant thirst for knowledge.

On the very first day of Charms class, he earned high praise from Professor Flitwick for his precise execution of the Levitation Charm. The tiny professor, rumored to have goblin heritage, even took a moment to review Peter's detailed notes.

However, he did not extend an invitation to any special magic club.

"Your magical foundation is still developing, Mr. Peter Weasley," Professor Flitwick said in his high-pitched voice. "At your age, it's more important to master the basics thoroughly. Advanced research can wait."

He then added with a knowing smile, "But I promise, when you reach your third year, I'll personally invite you to join my Charms Club—if you still have the time, of course. I imagine the Transfiguration Club will be keeping you quite busy."

As a gesture of recognition for Peter's strong performance, Professor Flitwick awarded Slytherin twenty house points.

That alone put Peter in a great mood.

He didn't want to miss any opportunity to earn extra points, because the moment the previous mission had ended, the system had issued a new one.

Main Mission ②: Help Slytherin win the House Cup by the end of the school yearReward: 1 Talent Point, 50 Scale Magic

At first glance, it seemed simple. But anyone who knew what the future held understood just how punishing this task really was...

After all, the greatest white wizard alive was already preparing to raise his savior—and he wouldn't even hesitate to shamelessly toss points around to do it.

Although it would only be this year and the next few that truly mattered, the system's task now directly clashed with that timeline.

Peter hadn't yet figured out a perfect strategy to win the House Cup, but he wasn't about to give up easily. All he could do for now was to keep trying.

Two days later, after sitting through a painfully dull History of Magic class, Peter came to appreciate Professor Binns' remarkable ability—not in teaching, but in putting people to sleep. Halfway through the lecture, Peter had nodded off without even realizing it. For some inexplicable reason, he still received five house points.

Although, it was worth mentioning that Professor Binns had called him the wrong name.

He also endured a rather uninspiring Astronomy class. It was said that Astronomy was made a core subject mainly because it served as a foundation for Divination.

Respecting his own pitiful Divination talent score of "2," Peter had no shame in borrowing knowledge from his past life. He rattled off facts about constellations and planetary orbits, which visibly impressed Professor Sinistra. She seemed slightly puzzled by how fixated Peter was on whether the solar system had eight or nine planets.

There was also a small side note in his system panel reminding him: "Don't forget to share the update on 101kanshu.com"Peter blinked at it and ignored it. Some system quirks were better left unexplained.

Then came Herbology with Professor Sprout, which turned out to be far more interesting than expected.

First-years weren't given any hands-on practice during the first lesson. Instead, Professor Sprout led them through the Hogwarts greenhouse, giving a broad introduction to the magical plants cultivated there.

Strangely enough, it wasn't the plants that fascinated the students most—it was the greenhouse itself. Enchanted with an Undetectable Extension Charm, it held entire ecosystems within its walls, including forests, wetlands, plateaus, and deserts, all designed to mimic different natural environments.

It felt like stepping into a dream.

Peter and Hermione, armed with textbook knowledge, each earned twenty points during the lesson. But what caught Peter's attention most was Neville from Gryffindor. The usually timid boy lit up the moment they entered the greenhouse, and to everyone's surprise, he also earned ten points.

Fortunately, those points didn't last long.

That evening, Fred and George caused a commotion in the corridor with one of their pranks, and Gryffindor lost twenty points on the spot.

Thank God!

Peter found himself strangely thankful for the Defense Against the Dark Arts class that followed.

Their professor, a man named Quirrell, wore an enormous scarf wrapped tightly around his head and reeked of garlic. The rumor was that he used it to ward off vampires, but whatever the reason, it made him rather unpopular among the students.

His teaching ability left much to be desired. Most of the time, he simply read straight from the textbook in a trembling voice. When Seamus Finnigan from Gryffindor asked for more details about his supposed victory over a revenant, Professor Quirrell stumbled over his words and began rambling incoherently.

Peter stepped in and offered a brief explanation, quoting directly from the textbook to help steer the lesson back on track.

Professor Quirrell was clearly grateful. He awarded Slytherin ten points right then and there.

Then, after a short pause, he looked around with a dazed expression and added another ten points—seemingly forgetting he had already done so.

(Author's Note: Course scheduling in this story combines elements from both the film adaptations and the original novels.)

Later that day, Ron leaned across the table and whispered to Harry, "I bet a vampire sucked out his brains!"

Peter, however, knew the real reason behind it.

That second set of points likely wasn't awarded by Professor Quirrell at all—it was probably the doing of the thing living in the back of his head. The man who once loved Hogwarts and Slytherin more than anything.

At the height of his power, Voldemort's greatest wish had been to become a professor at Hogwarts. When Dumbledore denied him the position, he retaliated in the most Voldemort way possible.

He cursed the entire Defense Against the Dark Arts position.

If he couldn't have it, no one could.

Now that's true obsession.

Time passed quickly, and before anyone realized it, Friday had arrived.

Today marked the final class of the first week—Potions.

Harry and Ron had been groaning about it since early morning.

"I don't think Professor Snape likes me," Harry muttered as he pushed food around his plate. "The way he looked at me during the welcome feast... it was terrifying."

"Don't be silly, Harry," Ron said with a snort. "I think he looks at everyone like they owe him five hundred Galleons. Still, I've heard he favors Slytherin students. I bet Peter's loving this."

He glanced across the Great Hall with a bitter expression.

Sure enough, Peter was sitting at the Ravenclaw table that morning.

By the end of the week, the first-years had already uncovered the biggest mystery among them: Peter Weasley.

On the first day, when he sat with Gryffindor, most assumed it was because of his last name. A Weasley in Gryffindor—nothing unusual about that.

But on the very next day, that illusion was shattered.

Peter had gone to sit with the Hufflepuff students instead, chatting cheerfully and blending in as if he had always belonged. Word even spread that he visited the Hufflepuff common room that evening for a casual tour.

The other students were baffled.

Who was this boy, really? And which House did he belong to?

The "rumor" about Peter visiting the Hufflepuff common room had, in fact, started with Ron. He had told others that the Hogwarts kitchens were located right next to the Hufflepuff dormitories, and Peter had gone for a walk there out of curiosity.

And just like that, within a single week, Peter Weasley—the most unpredictable first-year—had managed to visit all four Houses.

Every morning at breakfast, students now glanced first at their own House table to see where the red-haired Slytherin would appear. It had become a strange new ritual, spreading quickly across the grades and turning into a daily spectacle.

The most astonishing part?

No matter where Peter sat, there was always someone talking to him animatedly.

In Slytherin, there was Draco Malfoy—though he didn't seem entirely willing. In Hufflepuff, it was Cedric Diggory, who appeared amused by Peter's conversation. Gryffindor needed no explanation, and now even Ravenclaw had joined the list.

As Penelope Clearwater, the Ravenclaw prefect, let out a bright, silvery laugh in response to something Peter had said, Ron scowled from the Gryffindor table.

"Hmph. He's always been like that—loves playing with little girls. Some things never change."

Before Harry could comment, Hermione snapped her book shut with a loud thud.

"As his brother, why don't you try talking to him instead of sitting here making snide remarks?"

Ron blinked in confusion. "What? Are you mad? What does this have to do with me?"

Hermione, however, looked startled for a moment. Then she quickly changed the subject, speaking in a rush.

"What else do you two even do besides gossip and complain behind my back? If you're so worried about Professor Snape being unfair, why not prepare better? We've already been in class for a full week..."

With that, she snapped her book shut again and marched off down the corridor, her ponytail swaying with every step.

Ron, still dazed from the scolding, rubbed his forehead and grumbled, "She's lost it. I didn't tell Peter to flirt with every girl at school, so why yell at me? Just watch—she'll be smiling and chatting with him again during Potions. Stupid girl..."

Unfortunately for Ron, that prediction turned out to be entirely accurate.

When Potions class began, Peter had once again taken a seat beside Hermione. With just a few casual words, he had her smiling and nodding, flipping through her textbook with renewed interest.

Ron and Harry exchanged glances. They had seen it coming, but it didn't make it easier to accept.

And sadly, their second prediction also came true.

"Oh, Harry—Potter!"

In the dimly lit dungeons of the castle, a deep voice echoed off the stone walls.

Professor Snape stood with part of his body cloaked in shadow, his black robes blending into the darkness behind him. His gaze locked onto Harry with sharp intensity, his dark eyes gleaming with suspicion and cold dislike.