Còir Buaidh

Year 1 Part 3

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I moved forward slowly, intentionally staying near the back of the large group of students as we were led through the corridors of Hogwarts. The Welcoming Feast had ended about ten minutes ago, and the prefects of Slytherin, led by Head Girl Serena Rowle, were guiding the First Years to the Slytherin Chambers. While I had stayed near the back, wanting to keep Xeno from getting jostled, Amycus Carrow and Francis Bickerstaffe had rushed to the front; no doubt in an attempt to project that the crowd was following them in a rather vain attempt to seem more important than anyone else. Others, including my cousin Ruarc O’Conor and Damien Blackwood, had moved near the front as well, possibly in an attempt to follow the two heirs, but most seemed willing to let the crowd move as the prefects directed it.

Staying near the back allowed me to watch the movements of the figures ahead of me. At the feast, I’d talked a little with a few students including Angus MacLean and Lovell Selwyn, but generally, I’d kept to myself. There would be more than ample time in the next week to get to better know my housemates and for now, I was interested in matching faces to records Arcturus and Aunt Moire had provided on my yearmates. The issue there was that while there were faces for all the important boys in my years – meaning sons of Chiefs, Lords, and Heirs – information on the others, including the girls, was lacking.

Now, I understood why that had been done as it was expected I’d spend more time around my gender, with a focus on those who might be important allies in Hogwarts and beyond, but it still left me with little more than names for faces. Or at least those I’d seen sorted and that I’d seen move.

The most interesting of that group, beyond those who held names for Ancient or higher Clans and Houses, was that Vesta Malfoy was in my house. From various events in the last few years, I knew she was Lucius’ younger sister, but I hadn’t realised she would be in my year at Hogwarts.

In the other timeline, Lucius had been allied with Voldemort, but there was a chance that I could shift his allegiance to me. I just had to determine what motivated this version of Lucius and see how I could help with those goals without appearing to be subservient to the older boy.

Xenocrates shifted in my arms, taking my attention from the children around me. “Don’t think it’ll be much longer,” I said gently as my free hand – or at least the one that he wasn’t lying on – scratched him behind an ear. The raiju purred at the touch, drawing a few glances from others.

During the Welcoming Feast, Xeno had drawn a lot of attention, particularly from the girls. A few had asked to pet him, and after checking with Xeno and doing what I could to judge them, I allowed such gestures. At least until one boy, Weland Brinsop, attempted to touch Xeno without permission.

Beyond pushing past Barbara Bones, he had a scowl on his face as he moved that concerned me. Xeno had sensed that, and sparks had begun dancing around his eyes even as I’d moved to draw my wand. I wouldn’t have gotten it out before Weland grasped Xeno, but thankfully the boy never had the chance.

Bellatrix had been watching me, no doubt under orders from Arcturus, and had struck the boy with the knockback jinx. Interestingly, Finn Dalcassin had also reacted, striking Weland with a stunner. The boy had been knocked over the table, sending dishes flying. As they were covered in food by the tumbling boy, several of my housemates had snarled and screamed in shock, which had drawn the attention of a stern-looking professor.

The Professor spoke with the two prefects, getting details about the incident before asking me to confirm the report the prefects had given. When I gave that confirmation, Professor Morgan had turned to Weland and deducted twenty points from Slytherin for ‘failure to observe expected norms’ and thirty points for ‘causing an unacceptable ruckus’ at the Welcoming Feast.

Every prefect and many of the students had glared at Weland after Professor Morgan turned away, and the boy spent the rest of the Welcoming Feast at the far end of the table, ignored by our yearmates. Now, I wasn’t happy about Weland’s attempt to grasp Xeno, but his social exclusion might be something I could use to my advantage. Weland wasn’t from the main bloodline of House Brinsop, but he had enough potential even as a likely child of a cadet branch to attend Hogwarts, meaning he could be a useful associate: If he showed remorse for trying to grasp Xeno and humility to accept his mistake.

“Chief MacLeod.” The softly spoken use of my title had me shifting my focus from Xeno to see a boy had moved toward me. I already knew who this was, his face matching one in the files I’d been given before Hogwarts started, but I let him introduce himself formally. “I am Lasadh Astra of the Established House of Astra.” He lowered his head a fraction. Not as much as would be expected given the differences in our ranks and titles, but about as much as he could probably get away with inside Hogwarts. “If I might enquire, is your pet a raiju?”

Several people at the table had asked about Xeno, but none had seemingly realised he was anything but a cat. At least not before Weland’s mistake. After that, the others had, for whatever reason, kept back and left Xeno and me alone. Lasadh was the first to speak to me since then. At least about Xeno.

In front of us, I saw several students cranking their necks back, having caught Lasadh’s words, and the general volume of conversation between those students had lessened. While they did that, I considered Lasadh. He was the firstborn of the heir of House Astra, which was one of the few lower-end Clans and Houses to not be affiliated with an Ancient or older Clan or House. That, along with his position as second-in-line of his house, made him someone of interest.

The boy had pale blue eyes and hair that was so blond it appeared white when we passed by a torch. There was a spark of intellect in his eyes, and as there was nothing in his posture or tone suggesting anything else, I suspected he was curious about Xeno simply because the raiju was an unexpected ripple in how First Year was expected to go.

“Xenocrates is a raiju, yes. However, he is my familiar.” In front of us, someone stumbled, drawing a smirk from me. Learning I had a familiar was going to make the rounds very quickly in the house, if not the school, as it was uncommon for anyone below Sixth Year to have familiars. The Blacks might not have given Xenocrates to me with the intent that he would become my familiar, but that was what he was, and I was immensely glad for it. “Might I ask where your curiosity in him lies?” I added, remembering the way several Professors and Hagrid had reacted to his presence before we’d reached Hogwarts.

“Purely from an intellectual perspective, I assure you,” Lasah replied as we moved through a large area after descending another flight of stairs. On this landing, there was a large statue of a snake – a feature becoming more common the deeper we headed into Hogwarts’ lower levels – rising out of the water, intending to grasp at what appeared to be a lion. “According to what I have read of the species, they are known to have several interesting abilities and properties that, if harvested from them, can be used in several rare and expensive potions.”

“Xeno is too young to display his magic, or for his fur and shavings to be used in potions.” There were other parts of a raiju that could be used in potions and rituals, however, those required harvesting from a recently deceased creature. If Lasadh or anyone else wished for those parts, they would have a war on their hands to acquire them. “The extent of what he can currently do was witnessed by all in the Great Hall. I am, however, told that inside in the next half-year several of his other abilities will begin to appear.”

“As expected. And to clarify, I have no interest in him in anything more than an academic interest. When I was younger, I read about a great many magical beasts and hoped to see them once older. Discovering one linked to the Orient on my first day at Hogwarts has been a most unexpected but rewarding experience.” He smiled at Xeno who barely opened his eyes, preferring to stay still and enjoy my petting. “As he grows, would you be accepting if I helped you monitor and track his growth?”

“Perhaps,” I replied cautiously. There was potential for Lasah to be a useful ally, but it was far too early to be certain of anything. “Once we are better acquainted, then I may permit you to help me, but until then I’ll say no.”

Lasadh nodded, offering me a seemingly friendly smile. “But of course.” The conversation ended there, and we began following the rest of our housemates down another set of stairs.

What stood out here was that, along the points where the walls touched the ceiling, snakes had been carved into the stones. Looking closer, I saw that each snake had green gems – probably emeralds given the way the light seemed to flicker off them – as eyes, while the scales had been intricately added to the stonework. The torches along this set of stairs, unlike those before, burnt a dark green. Along with the stone snakes, and the strange rippling of magic one could feel in the air, it would likely concern those of weaker wills.

Before we reached the next chamber, the air itself grew heavy, charged with a chill that warned us we were nearing the Slytherin common room and dormitory. Our suspicions turned to certainty as we rounded the corner to see a throng of newly minted Slytherins clustered together, their eyes wide with wonder. Serena stood before them; her figure poised beside a seemingly unremarkable section of the wall. Emerald-tinted corridors stretched away on either side, their depths whispering secrets to those brave enough to explore them, but my gaze settled on Serena—and the way the wall before her began to ripple.

I inhaled sharply, my breath catching along with those of my housemates, as an enormous stone snake, easily five metres in length, materialised as if conjured from the stone itself. Its scales glistened like polished granite, and its eyes—cold, calculating—seemed to survey us all.

"§Welcome, new students. May your ambitions and drive lead you to the success you desire.§"

The words slithered from the snake's mouth in Parseltongue, a language so ancient it felt like a relic of magic itself. I bit down on my reaction, determined not to show my awe or apprehension. Around me, my classmates edged back, their unease a stark contrast to the smirk of a Sixth-Year prefect, who watched our reactions with a knowing gleam in his eyes. I couldn’t shake the feeling that perhaps he understood more than just the sound of the snake's hiss.

Parseltongue. A gift, some would call it. Others—a curse. Though I had spent years honing my skills in more practical branches of magic, such as fleshcarving, I’d not given the language of snakes its due diligence. The thought of conversing with this stone guardian stirred a new curiosity within me. Could it respond to commands in Parseltongue? And if so, what other powers might it—and others like it throughout the castle—yield to those capable of speaking its tongue? The implications were dizzying: an unseen network of stone guardians, monitoring and defending the very walls of Hogwarts. But that was a mystery for another day; for now, my focus remained on the stone serpent arching its body, marking the doorway to our new home.

Serena turned to face us; her expression unreadable save for the sliver of command that shone through her otherwise warm smile. "Welcome, new Slytherins, to what will be your home for the next seven years." She gestured toward the arch. "To enter Slytherin isn't about knowing a hidden mechanism or answering a riddle. Here, you prove yourself."

With a single word – “Virtus” – she summoned forth the enchantment. The wall pulsed as though struck by an invisible wave, each ripple reverberating back from the stone snake’s body, transforming the solid wall into a polished wooden door, carved with intricate serpents. Silver eyes gleamed from within the wood, scrutinising us with an uncanny intelligence.

"The passphrase I used will be changed tomorrow," Serena continued, her tone sharpening. "It will be displayed within the common room. Fail to remember it, and you’ll be at the mercy of your housemates for entry. But make no mistake: no student from another house can enter through this door, even if they learn the passphrase." Her voice dropped, and the air grew thick with warning. "The founder ensured it. Anyone foolish enough to try will find themselves detained, and every prefect will be alerted. Such a transgression carries a price—five hundred points from your house and a month in detention for both the offender and their accomplice."

The laughter from earlier died quickly, replaced by a collective solemnity as Serena’s words sank in. With one last meaningful look, she stepped through the doorway, disappearing into the darkened halls beyond.

The crowd surged forward, eager to follow, but I lingered at the rear. There was power in not being first—in controlling one’s own timing. Lasadh slowed his pace to glance back at me, but I offered only a smirk in reply, sending him onward.

Once the others had passed, I stood alone, admiring the work that had gone into crafting this entrance. As I took a step toward the doorway, I heard a voice—a prefect, his eyes gleaming with recognition of a kindred spirit. "Is there a reason you’re taking your time, MacLeod?"

I turned, meeting the gaze of Finn Dalcassin, who stood with an older prefect by his side. "Just because much of my time here will be controlled by others, doesn’t mean all of it must be," I replied evenly.

The older prefect, Asmodeus Wessex, extended a hand, his voice rich with humour. "Heir Cerdicing,” he greeted me with my family’s ancient name, a nod to shared traditions. “It’s rare for a First Year to understand the value of patience."

I accepted his handshake with a nod, before slipping through the archway. A tingling hum of ancient magic greeted me as I crossed the threshold, a reminder of the journey I’d begun. The landing I arrived on was bathed in a green glow, the marble walls adorned with intricate, shifting tiles that gave the illusion of a serpent writhing through tall grass. Torches lit the stairwell, their emerald flames casting eerie shadows that danced as if alive.

Descending, I reached a chamber so vast it defied the limits of the castle above. High above, a mural depicted a basilisk coiled protectively around Hogwarts, as though daring any threat to approach. The room’s grandeur was emphasised by the dark mahogany tables and silver-accented chairs scattered throughout, each piece a testament to the opulence and strength of Slytherin.

Professor Morgan waited at the far end, flanked by four others. Their expressions ranged from impassive to mildly intrigued as they observed our arrival. Around them, the senior prefects had taken their places, a silent acknowledgement of the power and hierarchy woven through every brick of this chamber. Behind the Professors, a curtain of shimmering magic obscured a doorway, hinting at the promised view of the Black Lake and, perhaps, a new world awaiting those bold enough to claim it.

As I took my place, I noticed Professor Morgan's gaze flicker my way, a mix of curiosity and approval. He knew I was the last to arrive, that I had chosen to set my own pace. And in that shared glance, I felt the first stirrings of understanding that my place here was not just as a student, but perhaps something more.

“Now that everyone is here, I shall begin. I am Professor Octavius Morgan; Charms Grandmaster, Senior Charms Professor, and most importantly for now, Head of Slytherin House. At my sides are Professors Slughorn, Churchward, Hunt, and O’Leary.” Each Professor nodded in turn making clear which name went with which face. “Like myself, they were either once students who passed this chamber, or have embraced the values Salazar Slytherin sought in potential apprentices, and we all serve as the Professors in charge of this great house. Professors Churchward and Hunt shall be your points of contact until you enter Third Year.”

Given the number of students in Hogwarts, it made sense that different professors handled different age groups. That also explained why there was such a large number of prefects – I’d counted enough to suspect there were around ten per year per house. With just one professor and two prefects per house per year, it would be impossible to control and monitor the students. Not without a dedicated security force of some form.

“On behalf of the other Professors, your prefects, it is my honour to welcome you to Slytherin,” I noted he made no mention of Dumbledore, but I wasn’t sure if I should read too much into that. “In Slytherin, we strive for excellence. Not just in achieving your ambitions, but in doing so in intelligent and meaningful ways.”

“Ravenclaws believe that knowledge is all that matters, yet without the wisdom and dedication to use that knowledge, it is nothing but a blunt instrument to bash over the heads of others. Much as muggles did before wizards showed them better ways.

“Hufflepuffs believe in loyalty and support for others. However, one should not grant your support to those unworthy of it. Offering your help and protection to many leaves you vulnerable both by spreading yourself too thin and to those you have offered to ally with without first having studied them carefully for any hint of deception.

“Gryffindor, believe in being brave.” Several of the professors and prefects had subtle reactions to the mention of that house, suggesting there were issues between them and us. All I could hope was that they weren’t as severe as they’d been during Harry’s time in the other timeline. “While there are times when it is preferable to head into danger, doing so rashly and without thought of your safety, that of those with you, or the consequences of such actions, is a failure of intelligence,” I smirked, agreeing that it was a fault the trio had displayed on occasion.

“In Slytherin, while all those traits are accepted and even encouraged, they must be used cautiously. Precision, planning, and preparation matter. Knowledge used correctly grants wisdom. Loyalty to those worthy of it helps us advance our ideals while facing and overcoming dangers is to be expected when it will bring rewards worth the risk.

“I expect all of you to excel in your studies, however, you are not simply at Hogwarts to learn and improve your magic, nor do I expect everyone to become masters of every field. To attempt that is a path even figures like Headmaster Dumbledore and Gellert Grindelwald chose not to travel down.

“What I, and my fellow Professors, expect from you is that while you are within these halls, you learn the skills necessary to lead and shape our world. It does us little good as a people if those of other houses are allowed to decide the direction of our world, as none have the drive and purpose to know how to do so bar true Slytherins.”

I nodded along, agreeing with his words. Now, that wasn’t to say that students from other houses couldn’t display the values that Slytherin desired, but from my study of former Ministers, Chief Warlocks, and Supreme Mugwumps, it was clear that, in general, those that had the most influence on our country were those who had formerly been Slytherin students. Or had allied or married someone from our house.

“Moving onto the rules. This is a relatively simple matter. Prefects will handle intra- and inter-house discipline. They, unlike prefects from elsewhere, will not show favouritism to those in our house, or unfairly target students in other houses. If, by some failing on your part, your actions require more punishment than a prefect can dispense, they will take you to one of my fellow Professors. That should be the end of any matter, and I assure you that the punishments my fellow Professors will place upon you will have you deeply regretting your actions.

“If, by some act of magic that I cannot begin to fathom, your actions are severe enough that they require my attention, I assure you that the punishment will be one you shall remember for the rest of your life. No matter how long or short it might be.”

Any amusement that might have been left over from Professor Morgan’s description of the other houses and their failings was gone as the Professor finished explaining how issues would be resolved. There was a cold certainty in his words that made clear he was sincere in the severity of what punishments he would use if we were brought before him.

One thing that stood out about his speech was how easily he commanded the room. There was none of the grace or class I’d seen from Arcturus. No, this was a man who demanded attention because he deserved it. Beyond the titles he held, he was someone who had earned his position through skill and dedication. The way he carried himself was another interesting thing as while he didn’t seemingly demand attention, he got it simply by being present.

“Regarding rules specific to our house, it is simple. Any issues that might develop between yourselves and another in Slytherin will remain in Slytherin. Any hint of dissension out of these chambers will be handled harshly by the prefects, the other Professors and myself. Unlike the other houses, we will not conduct ourselves like a group of wild nifflers fighting over a Galleon.

“For issues between house members, they can be handled through a variety of methods. The simplest and most efficient is within a duelling chamber. That corridor,” he gestured to a corridor to his left – my right – where Alihandra waved to draw our attention to the corridor she stood next to, “leads to such chambers. However, none of you are allowed to enter a duelling chamber until after the Winter Break, and even after duels must be arranged with the Prefect Council. If I am forced to write to your parents detailing your engagement in unauthorised duels with another member of the house, you will not like the punishment I enforce. Perhaps you might even prefer to transfer to another school for those unable to handle the rigours of Hogwarts.” The threat of writing to my parents was a mute one, but the idea of transferring was effective.

“The other corridors to my left contain chambers to help with improving yourself; be that academically or in other ways. These corridors will be explained to you during your first week in Slytherin, until then you are not permitted to enter.”

Since he worked in Hogwarts it was highly likely Professor Morgan was loyal to Dumbledore, which could be a problem in the future. A man that commanded respect and servitude so easily was one I would kill to have in the forces I hoped to have one day if I wished to challenge Dumbledore and Voldemort. Merlin, the fact Dumbledore could command Professor Morgan’s loyalty – along with that of probably every other Professor in Hogwarts – was a clear sign of the magical power the Headmaster had.

“Lasadh Astra, Francis Bickerstaffe, Amycus Carrow, Dòmhnall MacLeod, and Godwine Suthsax, step forward.” Hearing my name called caught me unaware, but I was quickly moving through the crowd. Most of the students slipped to one side or the other, letting me pass as they watched me carefully. However, one girl, who I recognized as Vesta Malfoy, waited until I was almost on her toes before shifting.

The way her pale grey eyes locked on mine, tracking my movement while completely unconcerned by Xeno’s hissing at her presence was interesting. As was the whispered comment of “useful” as I passed her. I would have to determine her connection to Lucius, both to see if she was a threat and if she might grant me an opening to establish relations with the heir to House Malfoy.

Once I joined the other four in front of Professor Morgan, he instructed us to turn around and face the rest of our year. “Enya Delaney, Lauren Hungerford, Vesta Malfoy, Aline Munro, and Adilene Pontius, please join us.”

As the girls summoned moved forward, my mind wandered. Francis and Amycus were both heirs to their house, while Godwine and Lasadh were firstborns of heirs. Along with myself, that must mean we held the five top positions via status in the year. The girls must therefore be firstborn daughters of Chiefs, Lords, and heirs, meaning their hands were worth more than the others. It was unfortunate that this was how they were regarded, but outside the Irish and Scottish Clans, no lady could assume a seat in the Wizengamot, and thus be regarded as head of their Clan or house.

Based on all that, it was obvious to me that Professor Morgan was setting us up as the top of the year, the question was why, but I knew that would be answered soon.

“Status matters, both in this house and outside of the walls of Hogwarts,” Morgan continued once the girls had joined us, Vesta standing closer to me than anyone else. “However, how we define that status is different. Outside these walls, these ten students would be regarded as having the highest status. Inside, however, that is not the case.

“Merit, skill, and performance matter, and from Third Year the best ten students will be rewarded for that status. For the first semester, these ten will be regarded as the top of your year. Their challenge is to prove the position is deserved. Your challenge is to prove you are more deserving.

“From after the Winter break, a ranking of the top twenty males and females will be displayed near your dormitories. That list will change day to day depending on a variety of factors that you will have to discover for yourselves. At the end of Second Year, the top five of each gender will be rewarded for their efforts.

“Most students stay in rooms with four others. The top male and female students from Third Year onward will have private accommodation. The others in the top five will share rooms. This is but the first of many benefits of proving yourself greater than your peers. The rest will be discovered only if you end the year at the top of the lists.”

All that explained why I and the others had been singled out, and I could already see many in the crowd eying us as a challenge to overcome. I understood why the Professor was doing this, but I would have preferred to avoid having to watch my back from the first moment I entered Slytherin.

“In an unusual situation, instead of simply having a handful of heirs or firstborns of heirs, this year we are joined by Chief MacLeod.” I felt hands come to rest on my shoulders. I stayed as calm as I could as Professor Morgan stood behind me, however, Xenocrates hissed loudly at the action. “The creature in his arms is not, as many of you suspect, a simple pet. It is his familiar and classed as a Four-X creature by the ICW. I expect that you are aware of the concept of familiars. If not, I expect you to educate yourselves quickly.

“No student can be targeted by a spell designed to, or with the intent to kill. That is an automatic expulsion from Hogwarts. In Chief MacLeod’s case, at least until he has passed his OWLs, an attempt on his life will not only see you expelled, but brought before the Wizengamot under charges of attempting to exterminate an Ancient House. The minimum sentence for such an action is life in Azkaban. The maximum is a Dementor’s kiss for you and imprisonment for every first-degree relation.”

That had several of the crowd inhaling sharply while for others, their eyes widened so much it was clear they feared the punishment. I understood why Professor Morgan was stating this, but at the same time, I wished he hadn’t as it now made me an even bigger target for others to challenge and surpass. Then again, I would not deny I looked forward to the attempts as it would give me a reason to push myself until the end of Second Year.

“I and my fellow Professors of Slytherin now turn you over to your prefects.”

There was some shuffling behind me, and I felt Professor Morgan move away before Serena spoke. “If everyone would turn to face me.” I, along with the nine others called to the front, did as she asked, and I saw her standing there with the other Sixth- and Seventh-Year prefects. The Fifth-Year prefects were aligned along the walls. “To my left, there are three corridors. These lead to the various dormitories. The corridor nearest the entrance is for First and Second Years. The middle corridor is for those in Third to Fifth Year while the final corridor is for Sixth and Seventh Years.

“While you have free reign to enter the passageways contained within for First- and Second-Year students, you are not permitted to enter the corridors for the higher years. At least not without permission from someone in those years. If you have an elder sibling or cousin in such a year, they must meet you at the entrance of the corridor to permit you access, and that shall only remain valid for twenty-four hours. If you are caught attempting to enter those corridors, or the dormitory of others without their express permission, you shall be brought before the Prefect Council.

“As we have our OWLs and NEWTs, among other matters, to concentrate on, we dislike having to waste precious time dealing with misbehaving and unruly students.” Behind her, several of the prefects offered smiles that ranged from concerning to downright threatening to sell her words. The odds were good that the punishments the Prefect Council enacted would be unenjoyable without being outright dangerous. That said, I did notice that her words, much like those of Professor Morgan, hinted that one would only be punished if they were caught, which left some wiggle room regarding what I could and couldn’t do.

“Follow me.”

She moved toward the first corridor, the one she had just indicated contained our dorms. I and those at the front with me, moved to follow while the rest of the year tagged along behind, several of the prefects gesturing for us to head down the corridor.

My eyes glanced toward the other corridors, and I saw several older students moving around in them including Andromeda. She didn’t give any reaction when I spotted her, remaining in quiet conversation with who I assumed were her friends. However, their eyes, along with those of many other students, were upon us. While I expected they would do that with each new group of Firsties, I wondered if there was a touch more interest because of my unique situation.

Before I reached the corridor, Amycus had moved ahead of me, ensuring he would be the first to enter behind the Head Girl. There was an urge to roll my eyes at his behaviour as Professor Morgan had already stated we were at the top of the year, and his entering first wouldn’t change anything. Not when, whichever room we were assigned to, would already have my chest in it, and if Kadic had done as I’d asked, placed it on the bed behind the door.

Yes, that door meant I wouldn’t be the first anyone saw when they entered – or even if the door were open to the corridor, but by being behind the door I had the greatest protection. I didn’t expect anyone to attempt anything lethal against me, at least not for a few more years, but the potential to try and embarrass me and the others in my room was great. Not only would it make us appear weak to the others, but the ones responsible for such actions would gain power and influence within the house.

Perhaps I was overthinking the issue, but if the positions were reversed, I would certainly consider ways to gain the position of top of the year. Merlin, I had spent time over the last month doing just that – be they academic, political, or underhanded – and now that I was starting from a position of elevation among my peers, I had to convert those plans into methods for defending from such actions.

“Bit full of himself isn’t he?” I glanced to my right, seeing it was Godwine who had whispered the comment. Amycus slowed for a step, suggesting the words had reached him, but he didn’t turn back. Doing so could be seen by others as a sign that he wasn’t confident in his position of importance.

“He is the heir to a Most Ancient House,” I replied just as quietly. “It’s hardly a surprise he believes the world thinks better of him than it truly does,” Godwine smirked as Amycus slowed again. Ahead of him, Serena entered the corridor.

“Based on what my father has suggested, I cannot say it is unsurprising. Still, I shall enjoy teaching him that power comes from oneself and not one’s title.”

“Does that apply to me as well?” I asked, my hand running down Xeon’s spine as I unintentionally channelled a muggle movie villain.

“These first four passageways are for the Second-Year students,” Serena said loudly, preventing Godwine from responding to my challenge. “Those on my right are for the girls, those to my left for the boys. The first dormitory in the first passageway is where those marked out by Professor Morgan shall be situated.”

I glanced to my right, seeing Lucius Malfoy standing there along with a few others. None of them were heirs – as the files I’d been given about my schoolmates had focused on them for the upper years – but it was clear that they were already under Lucius’ influence. Not unexpected, but something I was going to have to consider when I approached him.

“Unlike the corridors for the upper years, nothing is stopping a First Year from entering the passageways for a Second Year, or vice versa,” Serena continued. “However, the rules regarding entering dormitories without permission still apply, not least as many choose to add to the protective charms of the room with ones of their choosing.” She didn’t add anything else, but I expected the warning earlier regarding entering the dormitories of students in the other passageways applied to the Second Years as well.

Serena pivoted, gliding down the corridor with a fluidity that spoke to years of practised authority. I fell in step, observing the walls as they came alive around us. Carved serpents lined each side, their eyes glinting in the flickering light, and as we approached, their mouths opened to emit a soft, eerie glow. An impressive feature, certainly, but the serpents’ omnipresence hinted at something deeper—a web of enchantments woven into the very stones of this place. I resolved to investigate these serpents further; their secrets might be far more valuable than the simple illumination they provided.

As Serena reached the end of the corridor, my attention shifted to the statue that loomed there—a figure unmistakably meant to represent Salazar Slytherin himself. The details were immaculate, from the severe expression etched into his stone face to the flowing robes carved with meticulous precision. Yet, as my gaze travelled down, a small marking caught my eye: a serpent devouring its own tail, nestled inconspicuously near the base of one sleeve. It was a subtle detail, almost hidden, but the mark’s placement set it apart.

The symbol resonated with me—a snake consuming itself, the Ouroboros—a nod to eternity, cycles, and, perhaps, secrets buried within secrets. My thoughts drifted to Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom and the rumoured entrance to the Chamber of Secrets. In my timeline, a carved snake adorned a simple tap, but the possibility of altered entrances in this iteration of Hogwarts intrigued me. If this statue marked another entrance, it would likely require more than just a Parseltongue command to yield its secrets. Perhaps Salazar’s enchantments demanded a price for entry, as rumours suggested—a Torture Curse, cast without hesitation. Such a demand would ensure only the truly devoted—or ruthless—would uncover his hidden sanctums.

As my mind spun with these possibilities, Serena’s voice broke through, anchoring me to the present. “These passageways,” she announced, gesturing with a sweep of her hand, “lead to your dormitories. The first door of the initial passage on each side will house those selected by Professor Morgan. Your belongings are already waiting for you. For the rest of you, the house elves will deliver your chests, pets, and anything else you brought.”

No sooner had she finished speaking than Amycus darted forward, a gleam of ambition in his eyes as he hurried toward the first room on the right. I exchanged a knowing look with Godwine, one that Lasadh caught as well, and we followed in silence, letting the boy claim his moment of triumph. Serena watched Amycus’s hasty retreat with narrowed eyes, the slightest hint of disapproval slipping through her composed facade. Whether it was annoyance or something deeper, her gaze lingered just long enough to suggest she valued patience and control—a lesson lost, perhaps, on Amycus but not on me.

As I moved forward, the mysteries of Slytherin house seemed to deepen around me, each shadowed corner, each carved snake promising revelations—at a cost. This place was as much a test as it was a sanctuary, and I intended to master every secret it held.

Amycus slipped into the room, yet as I reached the door I heard a loud bang from the room. My torc warmed, signalling a threat, and as Xeno leapt from my arms, sparks dancing along his fur, I pulled my wand and stepped to the doorway. Looking inside cautiously, I saw Amycus lying on the floor, a chest he’d struck tipped over but thankfully not opened.

“In Merlin’s name!” Serena stated as she appeared at my side, her wand drawn and the tip glowing. “What is going on here?” She demanded as she moved past me and entered the room.

I followed her in, Xeno at my feet, as Amycus brushed himself off. “I was moving to claim a bed, however, that chest dared to attack me.” He glared at me as he spoke, suggesting it was my fault.

Looking at where he had come from, I saw my Lord’s Chest resting on the bed behind the door. “That is my chest,” I said calmly, my wand pointed down but ready to use if Amycus attempted anything. “My elf would have placed it there on my orders.”

“Move it now!” Amycus demanded, his hand flicking to his wrist. Before he could do anything, he froze in place.

“Professor Morgan was clear about duels before Winter Break,” Serena said calmly as I processed that she’d silently cast an Immobilisation Charm without any effort. That was a clear sign of not only her power but that she’d unlocked most if not all of her considerable potential. “MacLeod, holster your wand!”

I did as she asked, which Xenocrates took as a sign to move to my side. As I reached down to collect him, Serena’s wand flicked and Amycus stumbled forward. “Do not draw your wand, Carrow!”

The boy glared at her for a moment. Even without seeing her face, I knew his attempt to intimidate her was about as effective as a mouse challenging a Nemean Lion. Still, it seemed Serena wasn’t prepared to let the pathetic attempt at a challenge go unanswered, and around us, the air grew thick. I knew this wasn’t close to what a full witch or wizard could do, having been trained to endure such attempts to dominate magic around me by Arcturus and Aunt Morie. However, it was enough to make clear that even if Amycus and I worked together, we didn’t stand a chance against Serena.

To his credit, Amycus understood that, and took a step back, hands moving away from each other in a display of deference. That calmed Serena and as she holstered her wand, the air returned to normal. “Now,” she said slowly, “explain clearly what happened here, Carrow.”

“I entered the room first, wishing to lay claim to the bed of my choice. However, I saw this chest,” he gestured at it absently, as if offended by its very existence, “was already there. I attempted to levitate it away, however it reacted by attacking me.”

“For Merlin’s sake,” Serena muttered before shaking her head in annoyance. “Carrow, unless you missed or failed to understand several lessons your father would have given you, that chest is a Lord’s Chest. The fact it bears the crest of Clan MacLeod, which I would expect a child half your age to know, indicates who its owner is. That you chose to ignore that and attempted to move it, shows either wilful intent to cause trouble or a severe lack of education.”

While Serena didn’t have the presence of Professor Morgan, her speech carried enough gravitas that Amycus understood he’d fucked up. Yet, as he looked down at the ground, and I heard whispered comments from behind me, I saw a way to turn this further to my advantage.

“With respect, Lady Rowle, it does not matter which of your offered suggestions is the cause of Heir Carrow’s mistake. The fact remains that he willingly chose to attack a Lord’s Chest. That is, from the lessons I have received, a basis for the foundation of a feud between us, or a challenge to a duel.”

“Have you forgotten Professor Morgan’s statement on the rules?” Serena asked bluntly.

“I have not. However, the law regarding a Lord’s Chest is very clear. Attempting to interfere with it is considered an offence toward the Lord, or in my case the Chief, and their Family.” While I responded, I turned my full attention to her. The action showed both that I considered her important, and that Amycus was beneath me. There was a small chance he might attempt something while my attention was elsewhere, but I doubted he would commit such a grievous faux pax to further compound his existing mistake.

What I hadn’t mentioned to Serena, but I knew she understood, was that in matters where issues developed between Clans and Houses, the Headmaster was to be consulted. Serena would not want that, as it would cause her issues with the rest of her year and the staff. I knew she wouldn’t permit a duel between us, but I wondered how she would handle the issue without causing issues. Now, challenging the Head Girl was a dangerous game, but it was one I had to take. To do otherwise would be a sign of weakness. Not only as a student but as Chief.

As the air around us grew thick as she pushed her magic into it, attempting to intimidate me, I stood my ground. Xeno lifted his head, catching sight of the crackles in the air. However, a moment later his head lowered again, dismissing Serena’s display. After being forced to endure such displays of power from Arcturus and Aunt Moire, Serena’s – while impressive for her age – wasn’t anything to write home about.

I held her gaze, not bothering to break it otherwise I might be seen to be weak, and as her eye twitched I smirked. She knew I wasn’t going to back down. To help her shift her focus, I looked away without lowering my gaze, taking in the students outside. The closest ones were the other boys who would be sharing this room with myself and Amycus, though none indicated their feelings on the matter. What I did find interesting was the way Vesta Malfoy was watching with an amused – if not malicious – smirk on her face.

“I…” Amycus’ weak comment drew my attention back to him. As I turned, I saw that Serena had shifted her gaze to him, and as he was looking anywhere but at her, it seemed he understood his mistake and was seeking a way out of it without appearing weak. “I apologise to Chief MacLeod. The… excitement of being in Hogwarts and Slytherin clouded my thoughts enough that I mistook the Lord’s Chest for something far more common.”

Serena turned to me, the air pressure lessening as she pulled back on her power. I stayed silent for a few moments as if pondering Amycus’ apology. The three of us knew I would accept it, but by delaying I made clear my displeasure with his actions, and it granted me a moment to see how I could further shift the balance of power between myself and Amycus to my benefit.

Taking a step forward, I extended my free arm.” I accept your apology, Heir Carrow. Our first day at Hogwarts is indeed a momentous day, and one that can often cause mistakes that would otherwise not occur.” His eye twitched, catching the subtle insult in my words. “I do hope that, as we move forward from this unfortunate incident, we might turn the potential for a rivalry into something more useful to both of us. Perhaps even a fruitful and stable friendship.”

Amycus met my gaze, a flicker in his eyes showing that he wasn’t happy about losing even a fraction of the status his position as Heir Carrow granted him. However, he had no choice but to accept my gesture and words. Oh, I knew he would seek methods, in class, in the house, and in duelling arenas, to prove his superiority to me, but for today victory was mine. As would, if I had any say in the matter, be the case every day from now on.

“As do I, Chief MacLeod,” Amycus said as calmly as he could as we shook.

“Right,” Serena muttered as we broke the handshake, “this matter is resolved. That bed, by virtue of his chest, belongs to MacLeod. The rest of you can determine who sleeps elsewhere among yourselves.” She turned and moved toward the door, Lasadh, Godwine, and Francis all moving out of her way. “Show’s over! Get to a room and pick your bed!” She called out to the others.

I moved deeper into the room, taking it in properly. The room was designed as a heptagon. One wall held another door which I suspected led to private washrooms and toilets, while the other four each had a four-poster bed pushed against the wall. To the left of each bed was a large dresser while on the right was a desk that doubled as a nightstand with a chair pushed underneath. All were made of wood which was the same deep mahogany as the other wood in the Slytherin chambers.

On each desk was a lamp while in the centre of the ceiling, above where the four other chests were gathered, was a candle-filled chandelier. The lamps and chandelier would need magic to ignite, which was a subtle way to test new students without actively doing so.

Moving closer to my bed, I took in sheets. As expected, they were dark green with silver edging; the colours of Slytherin. The pillows were white and appeared fluffy.

“I’m taking that bed,” I turned around at Amycus’s words, seeing him pointing to the bed next to mine. “Is that a problem?” There was a challenging edge to his tone, which I took to be an attempt to regain whatever position he felt he had lost with the incident with my chest.

“Might I ask what grants you the right to demand anything?” Godwine responded, making clear he disliked Amycus’ attempts to assume control of the room. I knew little of him or House Suthsax beyond that they were seen as Traditionalist Builders. Indeed, most of the children that had been sorted into Slytherin had come from Traditionalist Clans and Houses, which while not unexpected was concerning as it meant there was a chance the idea of differing viewpoints wasn’t as common as they perhaps should be. Yes, I could use that to my advantage, but developing a position separate from Voldemort’s without instantly appearing as a challenger or threat to the rising Dark Lord was going to take more work than I would have preferred.

“Shall we duel for it?” I rolled my eyes at the challenge Amycus sent back, and as his hand moved to where I expected his wand to be holstered, I readied myself for him to do something. As much as I might enjoy slamming him into the wall, if he caused another issue, I had to remain uninvolved else I would be labelled a troublemaker along with him.

“I believe the Professor and Head Girl were clear about the rules for duelling,” Lasadh cut in even as I moved to sit on my bed. I could have said something similar, but I refrained from doing so as it could be interrupted as me causing trouble; or at the very least, seeking to incite Amycus into doing something rash. “Perhaps there is another way we can determine who gets the next pick of bed.”

As Godwine and Francis nodded their agreement, forcing Amycus to back down, I turned to my chest. As much as I wanted to open it and begin unpacking, I was reluctant to do so until the matter of who was sleeping where was resolved. A quick observation of the chest revealed no damage from Amycus’ attempt to move it. “Thank you Kadic,” I whispered, knowing the elf would be able to hear me.

While he wasn’t present, his orders were to remain in or near Hogwarts from evening until morning. While I was in class, I should, in theory, be relatively safe, so he was free to return to Dunscaith, maintain the castle with Aien, and then return at tea. He would also take care of my space, ensuring that no one would trap them while I was out of my quarters and protect the Lord’s Chest.

In future, I hoped to find the time to enter it and use the private areas inside for study that I’d rather others didn’t know what I was doing. However, for now, the chest would be treated as nothing more than a regular chest. The longer I went before indicating there was more to it than others realised, the less chance there was of someone attempting to access what I held within. While the tome on fleshcarving and the family grimoire weren’t linked to the chest, almost every other book in the castle was, and some of those were rare and technically illegal books.

While Kadic was around Hogwarts, it would be easy to summon him, but when he returned to Dunscaith I couldn’t simply call out for his services. Instead, I would need to push magic into the torc and speak his name. As he was the Head Elf, he would sense my summons and come as quickly as he could manage. I didn’t intend to draw on that ability often, but having it in reserve would no doubt be useful at some point in the following seven years.

Hearing rustling behind me, I turned and saw the others had each pulled a wrapped chocolate frog from a larger bag. I smirked, suspecting they planned to use the rarity of a given card to determine the order for who selected an area. In future, a better method would be needed, but for now, it was an effective, and slightly amusing, way to overcome the issue.

Turning back to my bed, I moved to sit on the mattress. Once I was there, I saw a collection of runes carved into the posters of the bed. They were arranged in simple arrays, designed to protect anyone sleeping in the bed. While those were effective, I had already learnt a handful of methods to override and take down such arrays from the outside. As such, while I doubted I could add new arrays to the wood – as the odds that other students before me hadn’t done so were remote as there was nothing in the wood to suggest that was so – I had a few extras in my chest for added protection.

Like the arrays carved into the bed, those items required me to activate them with my magic once inside their area, but so long as I remembered to do so, I should be safe from most issues. Kadic would also be nearby to watch over me during the nights as extra security. Most of the threats I expected to face in the first year or two would be designed as pranks, as any serious attempt against another witch or wizard would see the culprit brought before Professor Morgan and after his speech, it should be clear that no one wanted that.

Groans drew my attention to my dormmates. Seeing Lasadh holding up a gold-rimmed card and seeing the wide smile he wore suggested he had won the right to choose next. Plus, going by the glare Amycus was giving both Lasadh and his card, I wondered if he’d finished last in the impromptu challenge. Chocolate frogs, beyond them being chocolate, had never held much appeal to me, nor had the collection of their card. That didn’t mean I had tossed the cards away, or at least the rarer ones. Someone might place importance on collecting them, and having a card they might need could be used for a favour or exchange that I wanted, so like many other things, they were stored in my chest for possible use over the next few years.

As Lasadh, as I expected, pointed to the bed next to mine, I tapped my wand against the lock of my chest. A series of extensive clicks and the sound of metal grinding against metal reached my ears as the various mechanisms to secure the chest disengaged. While most of my items would remain in the chest, I would keep spare clothes and books in the wardrobe and desk respectfully, or at least some of them would be. Spares would remain in the chest, as my clothes were an easy target for pranking while damaging my textbooks could get me in trouble with Professors and cost me standing within Slytherin. I would have to transfer any notes I made in my books to the spares each night, but it was a minor inconvenience to minimise the chance someone might attempt to destroy the primary books.

Slytherin was considered a snake pit, and there was no way I was going to allow anyone to push me down into the pit as they attempted to rise to the top and escape. Not unless it served a purpose for me to do so.

… …

… …

I looked at the envelope being held out to me. It was in the hand of Finn Dalcassin, the Sixth-Year prefect who had asked to speak to me privately about two hours after I’d settled into Slytherin. Currently, we were in the quarters he shared with one other down the passageway for the Sixth-Year boys.

As we’d approached the corridor to the elder years, he had placed his wand against a snakehead on the right of the corridor. After speaking his name and then mine, I learnt that was how the twenty-four-hour pass was granted for younger years to enter. When he had first approached me, I had wondered why he wished to talk and assumed it had to do with our brief interaction on the Express, and as I looked at the envelope in his hand, I had been proven correct.

The envelope contained a letter from his father, Chief Ruarcc Dalcassin; something the wax seal on the back of the envelope proved. According to Finn, his father simply wished to establish a line of communication with me as, while I was a Chief, I wasn’t present in the political circles of the Wizengamot due to my age, and kept back from public events as much as I could. Since I knew that Chief Ruarcc and Arcturus were rivals within the Traditionalist and Builder factions of the Wizengamot, I suspected this greeting was a gentle attempt to see if there was a way to pull me from Arcturus’ side. Add in the fact my dormmates had already given me similar letters, and I suspected this was going to be a semi-common event from those in the Traditionalist camp for my first week with Finn was simply the first to speak with me outside of my dormmates.

For those in Slytherin, it would be a relatively easy matter to pass me such letters, but for those in other houses, if any wished to extend such letters, they’d have to do so subtly. Politics between houses were expected to be kept out of sight for all students, though I suspected those in Sixth and Seventh Year had more leeway on the matter as they would soon be joining the wider magical world.

“I will peruse the contents and then reply when I have a suitable response ready,” I said politely as I took the envelope. Finn had assured me that the letter was clean of any hex or curse, doing so on the ring he had signified him as heir to Clan Dalcassin. However, I had still asked if I might cast some detection charms to confirm that.

After explaining my concerns – mainly that my Clan was severely weakened and consisted of only three children with close ties to recent Chiefs – he accepted my doing so. Normally, checking a letter with the seal of a Chief or Lord for hexes and curses would be considered insulting; perhaps even generating bad blood between the families. Thankfully, Finn understood my reluctance to accept the word of anyone I didn’t know and assured me he didn’t hold it against me for doing so.

“That is all my father asks,” Finn replied as I slipped the envelope into my robes. “He understands that your focus for the near future will be on your education. However, he hopes to, at the very least, develop a potential friendship between you and me so that, when we both sit in the Wizengamot we can work toward shared ideals.”

“I have heard words to those effects four times already today.”

Finn chuckled. “Your dormmates?” I nodded. “As expected, and there will be more to come over the next few days. However, unlike your dormmates, and potentially many of the other heirs and firstborns who speak with you, my father has asked me to extend another offer. How aware are you of the concepts of mentorship between students?”

“I am aware.” Arcturus and Moire had both gone over the concept in detail in the months leading up to my boarding the Express. The education I had gained from both of them, along with a handful of others such as Herr Durchdenwald, could be classed as Mentorships, however, none were set up that way.

Generally, a mentorship was when an older witch or wizard signed an agreement with one younger than themselves to, as the name suggested, mentor the younger magical while also developing bonds of friendship between the pair. Mentorships were generally only seen among witches and wizards who weren’t Chiefs or Lords, as any agreement there was often referred to as a sponsorship, or even vassalisation depending on the circumstances.

For those at Hogwarts and similar institutions, a Mentorship lasted until the older student graduated. Beyond helping their mentee with schoolwork, a mentor is also expected to help their mentee with understanding politics – with a focus on it within the context of Hogwarts. Often a Mentorship was arranged before the younger student arrived at Hogwarts by the Chiefs and Lords involved as a way to foster bonds of friendship between Clans and Houses, and even to determine if the pair, if the genders were opposed, would be suitable for betrothal.

This was the case for Bellatrix and Rodolphus Lestrange, or at least it was until Bellatrix had thoroughly embarrassed him during a duel as part of the senior wand-duelling tournament at the end of the last school year. As Rodolphus was the older student and Mentor, and in theory, was better skilled and with greater access to his potential, it was an embarrassment to lose to Bellatrix and granted her a way to end the Mentorship.

Unfortunately for Bellatrix, while her defeating Rodolphus had ended their Mentorship, it did nothing for their betrothal. That decision lay with Lord Black, and unless a better option came along, I expected he would be highly reluctant to break the betrothal. While the dowry wouldn’t damage House Black's finances, Lord Lestrange was an ally of Arcturus’; one I felt he was reluctant to lose.

“Have you received any offers before arriving at school?”

“Perhaps.” My non-committal response drew an amused smirk from Finn. Arcturus had suggested Bellatrix become one of my mentors, but I had chosen to wait on the matter until I was settled at Hogwarts. Arcturus saw nothing wrong with that but left the offer open. It would be up to myself and Bellatrix to determine the details if we were both interested in the setup.

“There is no expectation of you accepting it, but I would be willing to extend an offer of Mentorship to you. Both in the hope that it will help you with your schoolwork and to foster bonds of friendship between our Clans.”

“The offer is intriguing, not least because of the influence your Clan has, and the fact based on our location, that you are a skilled wizard. However, I would like time to consider the offer.”

I had expected Finn to make such an offer, but not so quickly. From what I had been told, Mentorships weren’t settled on until near the end of September as that allowed older students to mark out those who showed early promise. Yes, many Mentorship had political ramifications, but just as many didn’t.

Because of that, I intended to do what I could to offer Mentorships to Bradley, Lily Evans, and Severus Snape. For the first, that was more to ensure his continual evolution into someone who might well become useful. Yes, offering Mentorship to someone in my year, and a muggleborn at that, carried risk, but as someone taught by Arcturus Black, it was unlikely many would believe I was a muggle-lover.

Amycus and a few others might well try to portray me as such, but from the time I’d spent with Bradley, it was clear he had some potential to be a very useful member of our world. Helping that come to fruition while still maintaining that magicals were superior to muggles would set my position apart from Dumbledore, and then when he arrived, Voldemort. There was also the fact that offering Mentorship to him now would both grant me the chance to test how well a muggleborn could be brought into our world, and prepare me for gaining Lily Evans’ loyalty.

Doing that was going to be a challenge, as I was very limited regarding the time I could spend with her and Severus while at Hogwarts, but Kadic had deployed a ward near Lily’s house that would alert him to the arrival of any magical mail. From there, I had to ensure I was present in Diagon Alley when she went for her wand to start the first moves to ensure she moved toward my influence instead of Dumbledore’s.

Severus would be a slightly easier challenge as he was bound for Slytherin, but it would still help to have a tentative friendship with him before he arrived at Hogwarts to ensure I could gain some influence over a bastard of House Prince.

“Perfectly reasonable,” Finn replied as he leaned back in the chair he was sitting in. “By the end of my first week, I had five such offers.” His wand flicked out toward a nearby table, and I watched as a tray there, containing a bottle of butterbeer and two mugs. “I received more as the month passed, and by the end of September had accepted four of the offers. One of which came from my betrothed, Alihandra Montague.”

I chuckled at hearing that name come up. “That does explain why she led me to you on the Express,” I said as the tray came to rest on the table in front of us. “While I am uncertain if what issues exist between her and Prefect Black, nor do I frankly wish to intervene, I did enjoy how she handled Prefect Bronson.”

“While a competent wizard, as a muggleborn Bronson has still to understand that the rules of our society differ from those of muggles and that we will not be changing to suit a minority.”

“I suspect that is a common issue for many muggleborns,” I commented as the bottle rose into the air and poured some of its contents into each mug. “I cannot understand why there isn’t a greater emphasis placed on educating those new to our world on the way it works, and that they need to conform to be accepted.” As the bottle moved away, I reached out and took one of the mugs. “I know many born into our world dislike muggleborns for this very reason, but perhaps there is potential in them if we could but teach them the benefits of our world over the muggles.”

“My father has spoken to me a little about the matter,” Finn started after taking a sip of his butterbeer. “As you say, there are many who dislike, even hate muggleborns. Some claim that muggleborns are stealing magic from us, while others believe that they are trying to force us to adapt to their world while, as you say, failing to comprehend that they are living in our world.”

I nodded in agreement as I sipped slowly at the butterbeer, preferring the taste of something stronger but I’d take it over pumpkin juice. That was something that while popular within magical Britain I didn’t enjoy. As I did so, I wondered which way Finn leaned regarding muggleborns. I didn’t expect him to reveal that today, but getting a read on how others felt on the matter, and other topics, would go some way to helping me determine who would be potential allies, and who were already clearly committed to the ideals Voldemort would use for his rise.

“How exactly would a mentorship between us be arranged?” I asked, shifting the conversation back to the relevant topic even as part of my mind started creating a file on Finn. I wasn’t going to get anything else out of him today regarding muggleborns, not unless it slipped in elsewhere, so I figured I should discover what he was proposing, at least beyond the base offer.

“Normally the offer would be considered by your Chief to ensure there were no traps contained in the language. However, in your case, that is not technically possible.”

“I have people I trust who are willing to help with that,” I replied. I wasn’t going to mention that one of them was Arcturus, but I suspected Finn and his father had already figured out he would be one of those I’d ask for advice.

“Good. The last thing I wish for you to feel pressured into taking a Mentorship. That is often how flawed agreements, ones designed to trap the mentee in ways they shouldn’t be, are created. While such practices are forbidden, the mentee is often the one at fault for failing to consider carefully the contract put before them.” I nodded agreeing with that assessment. It was harsh, but it worked.

Now, it was normally muggleborns or half-bloods raised in the muggle world who ended up with such contracts, but to me, it was another sign that they needed to be educated before and then while at Hogwarts on how this world worked. Choosing to not research the matter, or seek help if offered such a proposition, was a failure on their part. Yes, they were children, but they should by now have some semblance of common sense.

“The mentorship, if you agree to it, would end on my final day as a student of Hogwarts. Or, if you can defeat me in whatever disciplines I would be mentoring you in. There are rumours that some students attempt to add clauses to Mentorship agreements so that they extend beyond the graduation of the mentor, however, I have yet to have any such rumour confirmed. Also, if they were discovered, the student in question would be expelled and given letters of sanction from every professor in the school.”

I winced at hearing that, as even a single letter of sanction could cause someone issues with finding employment. Even if they were a Chief or Lord, the stigma of such a letter could, in theory, lead to others challenging them for their title.

“If it’s allowed to ask, what are your strengths?” No one was amazing at everything, and thanks to the choices I’d made before my merging, I knew where my strengths lay. While I would be seeking Mentors for my weaker subjects, the idea of finding someone able to advance me faster in something I was inclined toward was appealing. The only offer of Mentorship I had received so far had come from Arcturus and Aunt Katrina.

For Arcturus, he offered Bellatrix as a Mentor while my aunt suggested my cousin, Fergus, who was Heir to House Lambert. The issue with the former was that taking the offer would see me as fully aligned with Hose Black, and with my cousin was that he was in Gryffindor and as I’d not seen him as a prefect, I suspected he wasn’t one of the more powerful students in his year. There was an upside to taking Fergus as a Mentor, in that he would still be here next year, meaning I would have a small in with Gryffindor that might be of use with gaining Lily’s allegiance.

Thankfully, for both those offers and for Finn’s, I had time to consider them for at least a month to decide. While taking many seemed ideal, finding time to spend with mentors while doing my schoolwork, exploring the castle, and pushing my private research meant it was unlikely to be feasible.

As Finn began to detail his strengths, making sure I assumed to not over or undersell himself, I leaned back in the chair and took another sip of the butterbeer. He wouldn’t be the only student making an offer, but as he was the first at Hogwarts to do so, it made me more willing to accept his offer.

… …

… …