Chatting with the Weasley brothers turned out to be quite an entertaining experience, and the three of them hurried their goodbyes only when lunchtime was drawing near.
The Weasley brothers headed off to the Great Hall, while Shuxin went downstairs back to the dormitory.
"Shall we eat in the Great Hall, or go to the kitchens nearby? The kitchens are just a bit noisier." Shuxin still preferred the kitchen; it was closer, and you could just pack your food to go.
People from England basically wrapped up lunch in no time, usually settling for a few sandwiches, with baked potatoes running a close second in popularity.
Susan and the others disagreed, arguing that mealtime was the best occasion for making friends.
The four of them arrived quite early, and only a scattering of students sat in the Great Hall. The Hufflepuff long table had the largest crowd, so they found spots and sat down.
The dishes did not differ much from the previous evening's spread, save for the addition of some chocolate sweets.
Hannah was a social butterfly, and she brought Shuxin and the others along to meet quite a few fellow Hufflepuffs.
"Ah, it's him, it really is him."
"Right next to that red-headed boy."
"Did you catch a glimpse of the scar?"
A commotion rippled through the Great Hall, with many students buzzing with excitement. Shuxin followed everyone's gaze over to Harry Potter.
He looked rather ill at ease surrounded by the crowd, yet the Weasley beside him wore an air of reflected glory.
Shuxin felt no interest in this, turned her head back, and resumed eating her lunch. Yesterday she had thought the beef wasn't up to much, but today the steak tasted quite acceptable.
English food always offered a very limited variety, and Shuxin favored all sorts of fried fare: pan-steamed steaks, pork cutlets, fried chicken fillets, and seared ham.
"Let's eat a bit faster," Shuxin said. "We have Charms class at two o'clock, and I'd like to go back and flip through the books beforehand."
Her words pulled Susan and the others back from their wandering thoughts. The Savior could be looked at anytime; the first class of the afternoon mattered more.
Shuxin and her group arrived relatively early, took seats in the second row, greeted Terry, and met his companion, Carl Dupin.
Shuxin introduced her own companions as well, and they all sat together in a row.
The professor for Charms was the tiny wizard from Shuxin's memory, named Filius Flitwick, sporting snow-white hair and a bald pate, yet on the whole, quite endearing.
"Children, Charms is a most fascinating subject," Professor Flitwick explained at length.
Shuxin understood the point: in other words, everything in the world possesses magic, and among these, language and gestures serve as the most direct mediums.
Young wizards who had yet to master the utilization of the power within their own bodies needed to borrow the power of a wand, alongside spoken words and hand gestures.
Powerful wizards, such as Dumbledore, could perform spellcasting without speaking or using wands.
"Today we shall learn two spells," Professor Flitwick announced.
"Lumos (The Lighting Charm): Lumos. Lu～mo↗s↘." He accompanied it with an upward and downward hand gesture.
"Scourgify (The Scouring Charm): Scourgify. S-cou～r-gi↗fy⊙." This time there was not only an up-and-down motion and a drawn-out sound, but also a final looping arc.
Professor Flitwick provided a meticulous explanation before setting everyone to practice on their own.
The classroom buzzed with activity as students practiced with one another, offering pointers and passing on techniques.
Students from both houses achieved varying degrees of success—everyone except Shuxin.
Not only Susan, Terry, and the others, but many other students as well crowded around to share their experience, which naturally drew Professor Flitwick's attention.
After watching Shuxin's demonstration, he concluded: "Your gestures are fine, but your pronunciation is off. Are you by any chance not from England?"
"Ah, yes, Professor, I'm from Hua Guo, and I've only been in England for a little over four months," Shuxin replied.
Professor Flitwick looked thoroughly startled. "That explains it! You usually speak with a slight accent as well, though it doesn't hinder anyone from understanding you. But magic is a most rigorous discipline."
"Your non-standard pronunciation is hindering the manifestation of the magic," Professor Flitwick continued. "Remember to practice more with your classmates after class. It will get better gradually; what you need is time."
Professor Flitwick was a professional; he spotted the cause the moment he heard her, though the realization was rather devastating.
Susan and the two others were equally crushed, wishing they could beat themselves up for beating their chests in confidence the night before.
Before dismissing the class, Professor Flitwick assigned three rolls of parchment.
Since Shuxin wanted to seek out Professor Snape that evening, and given that the term had just begun and students' enthusiasm had not yet faded, the six of them agreed to go to the library together to write their essays.
With a future Ravenclaw top student in their midst, Shuxin and the others completed their assignments without a hitch.
As soon as they finished, they headed to the dining hall together for dinner.
Gossip always travels fast.
Midway through their meal, the very same students from earlier came over to ask Shuxin how her studies were going, gradually drawing the attention of other older senior students.
Hearing that Shuxin couldn't cast a spell, everyone began whispering among themselves.
"Then isn't she just a Squib? Hahaha." His remark drew raucous laughter from a cluster of onlookers.
The mocking tone carried far, and since the word "Squib" was a sensitive topic, everyone looked over. The speaker was a Gryffindor.
Shuxin was already somewhat displeased at hearing unfamiliar people gossiping about her, and now her irritation erupted into a full-scale cosmic explosion.
Yet it remained a fact that she could not currently cast a spell; she simply brought her fork down heavily, producing a harsh, grating sound.
Realizing the atmosphere had turned sour, the crowd slowly dispersed.
The Great Hall filled up by degrees, and the staff table was nearly full. Shuxin stood up and walked toward Dumbledore.
By this point, Shuxin was already the center of everyone's conversation, and now she became the absolute focus of attention.
Only the Gryffindor boy who had just spoken turned pale as death.
"Professor Dumbledore," Shuxin said.
Dumbledore looked at the girl before him with a hint of bewilderment and laid down his fork. "What is it, child?"
The other professors turned their gazes toward them in curiosity.
"When I originally refused your admission letter, you came to my home in person to persuade my parents and convince me to come to Hogwarts," Shuxin said.
"My parents also asked you in their letters to take care of me. Is that correct?"
The first part was a fact Dumbledore could not deny, and as for the second part, even if Shuxin were fabricating it, he could hardly refute it.
Generally speaking, when someone writes to tell you that their child is coming to study at your school, wouldn't you expect them to add a polite request to look after them? It was simply human nature.
"That is indeed so, child."
"Very well, I wish to withdraw from the school. Would you trouble yourself to send me back? You know the situation at my home." Shuxin's expression remained blank, her attitude resolute.
"It hasn't come to that, child. I will teach you properly," Professor Flitwick said, looking quite flustered.
Professor Flitwick felt deeply distressed; was this student actually going to drop out simply because of a single class of his?
"It has nothing to do with you, Professor Flitwick. You teach very well, and I am very fond of you," Shuxin explained to Professor Flitwick before turning back to Dumbledore.
"Mr. Dumbledore, I am a Squib. How could I possibly be worthy of studying at such an exceptional magic school as Hogwarts?"
"That is not true!" Professor Flitwick waved his hands at Dumbledore in denial. "Miss Field's pronunciation is simply not standard; she is not a Squib. She merely needs time."
"Filius, do not distress yourself. I shall not permit Miss Field to withdraw," Dumbledore comforted gently.
Ignoring Dumbledore, Shuxin turned and walked toward the Gryffindor table.
Shuxin failed to notice that behind her, Professor McGonagall's face had turned iron-gray.
"Did you hear that? I am not a Squib," Shuxin said. "Besides, even if I were a Squib, it is none of your business. What, is your father the Minister for Magic? Or is Hogwarts run by your family?"
"And as for the rest of you, do you find this amusing? A crowd that only knows how to bully the weak—are you even worthy of being called Gryffindor braves?"
Shuxin hadn't actually intended to ask Dumbledore to let her quit.
Rather than letting people whisper behind her back in the future, she preferred to flip the table right then and make a scene so big no one would ever dare speak of it again.
After venting all at once, Shuxin felt considerably better. She bade Susan goodbye, stated where she was heading next, and left the Great Hall.
Terry made to chase after her, but Carl stopped him. Seeing that Susan and the others remained seated in their places, Terry sat back down as well.
Shuxin did not return to her dormitory. Instead, she headed toward the Slytherin dungeons—or to be precise, went to squat right outside Professor Snape's door and put on a pitiful act.
After me, the deluge.
Once Shuxin left, Professor McGonagall docked the ringleader 20 points for insulting a fellow student, imposed a semester of detention, deducted 10 points from the others with two months of detention, and warned them that they must apologize to Shuxin.
Professor Snape, who had always detested Gryffindor, seized upon the excuse of them causing a disturbance in the Great Hall and docked every last one of them another 5 points.
Poor Gryffindor found themselves over a hundred points in the negative on their very first day.