Hogwarts: Wizards Supreme

"Slytherin!"

A loud voice screamed above his head, waking him up from his confusion.

He closed his eyes tightly, still immersed in the pain that was like being torn apart when his body was hit by a big truck a second ago. What was frozen in front of him was a copy of "Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows", with his own blood splattered on the cover. Get blood red.

"Slytherin?"

Instinctively, he murmured a question.

"That's right, I never make mistakes, you are a born Slytherin!" A small voice said confidently in his ear, like a whisper between friends.

"Besides, this is what you expect, isn't it?" The thin voice continued to chatter, with a hint of pride in his tone.

Only then did he feel that this scene was a bit scary. What was talking above his head?

He opened his eyes suddenly, and at the same time instinctively raised his hand to grab the top of his head, and touched something slippery and still twisting.

He jumped up from his seat with a swish, pulled the thing off his head, and threw it to the ground, barely stepping forward.

In shock, he took a closer look and realized that it was a hat.

A tattered and dirty peaked hat.

At this time, the hat was twisting on the ground, with a wide slit like a mouth opening on it, and it started to scream.

"Oh, I swear, you are the first brat to throw me to the ground since the founding of Hogwarts!"

"You are so reckless, if I hadn't never made a mistake, I should have sorted you into Gryffindor!" it shouted.

He looked at the unknown object squirming on the ground, twitched the corner of his mouth, suppressed the urge from his heart to throw it into the lake and wash it thoroughly, and looked away.

Only then did he realize that he was in an extremely luxurious auditorium. Directly across from him were four long tables covered with tablecloths of different colors. They were filled with boys and girls in black robes. At this time, they were staring at him and talking noisily.

"Mr. Foley, how long are you going to stand here? Hurry up and sit at the table that belongs to you." A serious female voice sounded beside him.

He turned around and saw a tall woman wearing an emerald green robe. She wore square-rimmed glasses, a serious expression, and her black hair was tied into a tight bun.

She was stooping to pick up the chattering hat from the ground.

No need for her to remind him, he also realized that his behavior was very inappropriate and he had stayed here for too long.

"Oh, okay. I'm sorry for causing you any trouble, ma'am." He said sincerely, while bowing gracefully and slightly, like an instinct engraved in his genes.

The black-haired lady nodded reservedly and pointed to him at the long table covered with green tablecloth.

He walked away quickly, his steps were quick, but his back was straight, making his movements look urgent yet elegant.

But this is not his habit.

"Harry Potter!"

The black-haired lady shouted after him, attracting the attention of everyone at the long table.

He stiffened slightly, then continued walking, finding an empty seat at the long green table and sitting down.

Fortunately, not many people paid attention to him at this time. Everyone's eyes were attracted to the boy who was sitting on the chair waiting to be sorted.

He turned around and looked over. The boy on the chair was thin and his face was mostly covered by a dirty hat. Only a few strands of messy black hair stuck out from under the hat brim.

"Harry Potter," he murmured.

"I traveled through time," he said in his heart, "I traveled through time to the world of Harry Potter."

He closed his eyes and suddenly sighed deeply.

"Gryffindor!"

shouted the Hat, sorting the Boy-Who-Lived into Gryffindor.

Amidst the deafening cheers of the little lions, he heard the boy sitting next to him snort heavily and drawl: "Oh, he will always regret it!"

He turned around and saw that sitting next to him was a boy with light blond hair. He had a pointed chin, pale face, and a cute face, but he looked arrogant. At this time, his gray eyes were full of displeasure.

At this time, the boy turned his head and said in a slow voice: "Brian, what's wrong with you? You just acted like a fool!"

He didn't pay attention to the boy's words, but thought thoughtfully: "My name is Brian? Brian Foley?"

"I think that any qualified pure-blood family should not be too nervous during the sorting ceremony. We are born to belong to the noble Slytherin."

Seeing that Brian didn't reply, the boy continued to speak in a slow tone, completely no longer paying attention to the sorting ceremony that was still going on.

"Except for some of the scum, of course, especially the red-haired Weasleys," the boy added. "They have simply tarnished the honor of the purebloods."

"By the way, what's wrong with you? You look strange." The boy's gray eyes looked at him and asked doubtfully.

"Oh, it's nothing, Draco, I just have a headache." Brian said, covering his forehead. He guessed the boy's identity, Draco Malfoy.

Draco nodded arrogantly and said, "Yes, this sorting ceremony was very long and smelly, and it didn't show the noble character of our Slytherins at all."

"If you ask me, there should be a wizard duel to distinguish us from those reckless and arrogant fools, clumsy idiots and rigid-thinking nerds." Draco glanced in the direction of Gryffindor in disgust. He said, "Of course, the most important thing is to let those stinky mudbloods go back to their hometown!"

"That's enough, Draco, I feel a little uncomfortable..." Brian reluctantly interrupted the boy's gushing bragging.

He obviously didn't have the time to deal with the boy in front of him who was clearly in the second stage of middle school.

"Perhaps, I can write to my father about this idea. I'm sure he will approve of it..." Draco said this, looked at Brian's pale face, and then closed his mouth.

Brian breathed a sigh of relief, put one hand on the table, and rubbed his brows fiercely. He hasn't had time to sort out the situation at this time.

In his opinion, he had just been in a car accident. The car he was driving was hit hard by a large truck, and his body was squeezed to pieces. This was definitely not a situation in which he could survive.

When I looked back, I was filled with unwillingness, and then the world fell into a rich but short-lived darkness. When I opened my eyes, I found myself in Hogwarts.

"This body seems to come from a pure-blood family and is familiar with Malfoy, but Foley? It seems that he has never heard of it."

In his previous life, he was just an ordinary Harry Potter fan. He had only read the original books a few times, and had never delved into the secrets hidden behind the stories or dug out the stories behind the scenes.

Brian rubbed his head with a splitting headache and discovered that all kinds of food appeared out of thin air on the table.

The sorting ceremony was over unconsciously.

Feeling the burning hunger in his stomach, Brian endured the headache and nausea, took a portion of potato chips and forced himself to eat them.

This is a habit I developed in my previous life. No matter how uncomfortable I feel, I still have to stuff food into my stomach, otherwise I will only suffer more later.

I chewed the potato chips slowly. They didn't taste very good. After all, they were British food.

However, even though this body felt uncomfortable and wanted to pass out, it still sat upright and made no sound during the meal. The table manners seemed to be infiltrated into instinct, and it was impeccably elegant.

In this era, aristocratic etiquette was followed, and he definitely came from an ancient family.

After chewing slowly and clearing the food on the plate, Brian looked around the table, and with some surprise, he picked up a mint candy and put it in his mouth.

The aroma of mint melted in his mouth, making Brian feel his head clear, and his head didn't seem to hurt so much anymore.

Next to him was Slytherin's ghost "Bloody Barrow", who was looking at him with dull eyes, his body covered in silver splatters of blood.

"Mr. Barrow, would you like one?" Brian smiled at him awkwardly.

Bloody Barrow stared at him for a long time. Just when Brian was about to turn his head away, a hoarse voice said: "No need."

Brian smiled and nodded to him, then turned to look at the teacher's seat at the top of the auditorium.

He immediately spotted the silver-haired and bearded grandfather Dumbledore, who was carefully tasting a plate of butter-covered pies. Under his half-moon glasses, his eyes were focused and calm.

Next to her was Professor McGonagall, who was in charge of the branch. She was meticulous even when eating.

The big man, Hagrid, with thick black hair and beard, as wide as three Dumbledores, was drinking heavily from a wine glass as big as a basin.

Professor Snape, who had greasy black hair and an eye-catching hooked nose, was staring gloomily in the direction of the Gryffindor table.

Finally, Brian looked at Professor Quirrell. He was pale and trembling slightly. He had a huge purple scarf wrapped around his head, which made his head a whole circle bigger.

Brian's eyes stayed on the scarf on the back of his head for a long time. When Quirrell looked at him keenly, he turned away.