285: Any Dementor who sets foot in Hogwarts will be killed.

"Any Dementor who steps into Hogwarts—kill them," Rhys said with a smile, glancing at Helga seated beside him.

Helga couldn't help but laugh—now that was the Salazar she knew!

Just a moment ago, that whole "strictly by the book, no overstepping boundaries" act had made her wonder if the old snake had actually changed. But now it was clear—though his temper might appear softer on the surface, deep down, he was still the same Slytherin.

"Alright, we'll go with your approach," Hufflepuff gave her vote of approval to Rhys's stance.

Allowing Dementors to appear outside of Hogwarts was their way of respecting the current headmaster. But destroying any that dared to cross into the castle grounds—that was their principle as wizards.

"Although… I don't think we ever told the Dementors they weren't allowed to enter Hogwarts."

"What's that got to do with us?"

"True enough."

The carriage picked up speed, rolling all the way to the front of the castle. When it finally came to a shaky stop, Rhys and Helga stepped out.

Gazing at the grand and majestic castle before her, and the warm lights glowing from the windows, Helga stood still, captivated—this place hadn't changed much in a thousand years. The lights were more numerous, brighter than before… but the people were already long—

Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of Salazar standing nearby, looking slightly impatient as he waited. She shook her head helplessly—people didn't really change that much after all.

Aside from that golden Gryffin, the old snake and the old raven were both still here. With them around, that was enough.

With that thought, the melancholy that had just started to rise in Helga's heart quickly dissipated. But just as she was about to stride confidently into the castle, Rhys tugged on her robes.

"Rein it in a little, or Dumbledore might notice something strange," Rhys reminded her kindly.

The Hogwarts castle was layered with countless enchantments cast by the four of them and generations of their successors. Its very existence was a miracle. Only a recognized and legitimate Headmaster could possess full access to the castle's authority.

But the four of them—as the Founders—each carried complete authority by default. If they walked in just like this, it would create a conflict. After all, there can't be two suns in the sky—how could there be multiple people with highest-level access?

A conflict of control was inevitable. It might even trigger strange and unpredictable magical reactions. One way or another, it would definitely alert the current Headmaster, Dumbledore.

Helga immediately understood and retracted a portion of her permissions.

She and Rhys made the same decision—scaling back their access—so Dumbledore wouldn't sense anything unusual.

Passing through the massive oak doors, the two of them stepped into the castle's entrance hall. The torches along the walls lit the space brightly, and directly in front of them stood the grand marble staircase leading up.

Helga: !!!

"Damn..?! What's going on?" Her eyes widened to perfect circles, utterly stunned by the magnificent sight before her.

"This is… Hogwarts?" she couldn't help blurting out in disbelief.

You couldn't blame Helga for not recognizing the castle she had once helped build with her own hands. Compared to the Hogwarts of a thousand years ago, today's Hogwarts was like comparing a mud hut to a luxury mansion.

Over the past millennium, headmasters, professors, and alumni had developed the tradition of donating treasures to the school—if they had no precious heirlooms to offer, even gifting their armor or portrait after death was considered meaningful.

Who didn't want to leave behind a portrait at their alma mater after they died?

After a thousand years of accumulation, Hogwarts had essentially become a colossal treasure vault.

"They lit so many lights," Helga said, finally recovering from the shock of all the lavish decorations, her attention shifting to the countless flames flickering around them.

"They did!" Rhys responded with resonance. He, too, had been overwhelmed by the castle's lighting on his first day.

just how many candles did they burn in one night?!

"The school's gotten really rich!" Helga said with heartfelt amazement.

"Yeah, it really has!" Rhys nodded eagerly—without mentioning the price the school paid to get that rich.

If Helga ever found out how much control the current Board of Governors had over the school, Merlin only knew what she might do.

But thinking about it carefully… the board members did fund the school. If their managerial rights were completely stripped away, it might not be easy to keep those gold Galleons flowing.

Just because they—the Founders—could handle things didn't mean their successors would always be able to do the same.

Stepping into Hogwarts Castle once more, Hufflepuff looked around like a country girl visiting the city for the first time, eager to see and touch everything.

"You must be the new Ms. White?" a voice suddenly called out—it was Professor McGonagall.

Rhys and Helga turned their heads at the same time and saw Professor McGonagall striding toward them, followed closely by Hermione, who wore a bright and cheerful expression.

"Yes, I'm Smith White," Hufflepuff replied, sizing up the competent-looking witch in front of her and silently giving her a nod of approval.

Her first impression of Professor McGonagall was very good.

"My name is Minerva McGonagall. I'm the Head of Gryffindor House, the Transfiguration Professor, and also the Deputy Headmistress," McGonagall said as she walked up and shook Helga's hand.

Hearing that McGonagall held so many positions, Hufflepuff instantly felt a deep respect: This woman is formidable.

So many roles at once—did she even have time to rest?

If she knew that Dumbledore usually didn't handle many day-to-day affairs, she'd probably start to wonder just how many hours Professor McGonagall had in a day.

The two women exchanged pleasantries, leaving the "little wizard" at their side behind. Rhys, happy for the break, walked off with Hermione toward the Great Hall.

"What did Professor McGonagall want with you?"

"Something about the class schedule," Hermione answered vaguely.

Rhys simply gave an "Oh," and didn't press further. His full attention had already shifted to the upcoming feast.

The ceremony proceeded the same way it did every year. The Sorting Hat placed one new student after another into the house most suited to them.

Rhys sat below the staff table, clapping along with the other students for each new Slytherin, sincerely hoping they would grow to embody the ideals he once held.

After the Sorting Ceremony, Dumbledore stood up and said, "Welcome, everyone, to a new school year at Hogwarts! I have a few words to say—one matter in particular is very serious… the Dementors! As you may already know, they searched the Hogwarts Express. They will be stationed around the school as they carry out duties for the Ministry of Magic.

"While they remain here, no one is permitted to leave the school grounds without explicit permission. Dementors cannot be fooled by tricks or disguises—not even Invisibility Cloaks. Dementors do not understand pleading or excuses. Therefore, I warn every one of you: do not give them the chance to harm you."

Upon hearing Dumbledore's words, Rhys raised an eyebrow. He was someone who followed rules. He respected the authority of the current headmaster. And he certainly had no intention of giving a Dementor the chance to harm him.

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