Hogwarts: From Little Wizard to White Lord

Peter enjoyed a peaceful and satisfying end to his weekend.

He had successfully gained Snape's trust and would soon learn the Scarpin Apparition Charm he had coveted for so long, along with access to more advanced potions and spellwork. His years of quiet research and persistence had finally borne fruit.

For Peter, this was the reward of a long investment.

For most other first-years, however, the weekend passed far too quickly. One moment they were breathing fresh air by the Black Lake, and the next, they were dragging their feet to class again. From the start of the second week, the coursework began to pile up.

The professors started explaining concepts at a faster pace, and the homework kept increasing. No one warned them that Hogwarts would become this overwhelming so soon.

Even more stressful than the lessons was the social dynamic.

Now that they had spent over a week together, the first-years had begun to form clearer social circles. Friendships solidified, and cliques quietly emerged.

Of course, the most obvious rift was the one everyone expected: Gryffindor and Slytherin.

The two Houses shared many of the same classes, and whenever they had one together, the atmosphere soured instantly. Just seeing each other across the room was enough to prompt sighs, sneers, or muttered insults.

It wasn't just the rivalry that fueled the tension, but the personalities involved.

Harry, Ron, and Malfoy formed an almost legendary triangle of conflict.

Malfoy, although still wary of Peter, had grown bold in his own way. He quickly realized that as long as he didn't provoke Peter or Hermione, Peter would ignore him entirely.

And Peter's silence gave Malfoy a dangerous idea.

So he began focusing his provocations elsewhere specifically, on Harry and Ron.

Peter watched it unfold without intervening. He had warned them once before.

Unfortunately, Ron and Harry had a tendency to make mistakes. And when they did, Malfoy was always there to laugh.

And so their nightmare began.

Think about it… In every class, there was someone watching your every move. The moment you slipped up, they'd pounce, ready to laugh at you or make a sarcastic comment. And if you tried to argue back, you'd somehow end up in the wrong. No matter what you did, you couldn't win.

"I never thought there was anyone in the world more annoying than Dudley!" Harry muttered to Ron after a particularly frustrating Transfiguration lesson.

Ron nodded, equally irritated. "I never thought anyone could be worse than Fred, George, and Peter combined!"

Hermione shot him a disapproving glare. "They're your brothers, Ronald Weasley."

She wasn't any more fond of Malfoy than the boys were. Although Malfoy clearly avoided provoking her likely because of Peter he still acted like he was above her. Every time they crossed paths, he'd tilt his chin high and narrow his eyes like she wasn't even worth looking at properly.

It was obnoxious.

Still, things slowly returned to normal. Children rarely held grudges for long.

One day, Harry practically dragged Ron over and forced him to apologize to Hermione. The moment was awkward, with Ron mumbling and Hermione pretending to be deeply absorbed in her book.

But once the apology was made, the tension eased. Their little argument faded into memory.

That didn't mean everything was back to the way it was before. Hermione, for one, had quietly dropped Ron's nickname. She now called him "Ronald" with perfect politeness.

And for some reason, that drove Ron up the wall.

Ron later confided in Harry that he was still a little on edge around Hermione.

"It's Peter's fault," he grumbled. "Every time he teased me about something, he'd say 'Ronald' in that smug voice of his. Now whenever Hermione calls me that, I feel like I'm being set up."

Harry wasn't sure what to make of that, but he suspected Ron was reading a bit too much into things. Still, Ron remained a little wary, half-convinced that Hermione's forgiveness might come with strings attached.

Meanwhile, things between Gryffindor and Slytherin were growing colder by the day. Malfoy's snide remarks and arrogant attitude only fueled the rivalry, and Harry had no patience for it. Neither did Ron. Their dislike for Malfoy was open and mutual.

There was, however, one Slytherin who seemed immune to the feud: Peter Weasley.

Time passed, and Peter's presence across the different house common rooms especially with his cat in tow began to feel less strange and more like part of the school routine.

Everyone realized something surprising: Peter, despite being a Slytherin and a star student, wasn't hard to get along with.

He was polite, clever, and always seemed to have an answer to everything. And although he didn't seem interested in spending time with other boys, he was more than happy to chat with the girls. Especially the pretty ones.

And then there was the latest incident, which cemented his reputation as both eccentric and unforgettable.

Last weekend, Peter returned to the Slytherin common room after another long stay in Ravenclaw. He was reportedly in a foul mood not because of the company, but because of the word "dungeon" scrawled across the entrance to their house.

"It ruins my Ravenclaw image," he had said.

So he took out his wand and, with a flick and a muttered incantation, changed the signage from "dungeon" to "sea view room."

Peeves, of course, witnessed the entire thing and gleefully reported it to Filch. Within hours, the story had spread throughout Hogwarts.

Even Professor McGonagall was heard muttering something about "a sea view room underground" and rubbing her temples.

No one could quite explain why Professor Snape chose not to punish Peter for the spellwork. After all, the prefect who had previously tried to tamper with Peter's enchantments without permission was still recovering in the hospital wing under Madam Pomfrey's care. Since that incident, no senior dared to meddle with Peter's magic again.

As for Filch, the cantankerous Squib spent several days furiously scrubbing at the shimmering enchanted words outside the Slytherin common room. Nothing worked. Eventually, he gave up in bitter defeat.

And so, the infamous dungeon of Slytherin became a "sea view room."

Every time a Slytherin student passed under the glittering sign, they felt a strange sense of disorientation, as if the murky depths of the Black Lake had been transformed into a tropical paradise.

Fred and George, ever the opportunists, took it a step further.

Almost daily, the twins would sneak down near the Slytherin entrance with posters in hand scenes of sunny beaches and smiling Muggle models in bright swimsuits, which they'd borrowed from some poor unsuspecting Muggle-born student.

They'd hold the posters up on either side of the enchanted sign and shout enthusiastically to every Slytherin passing by:

"Dear customer, welcome to Weasley Real Estate Company!"

"Lake-bottom beaches! Beautiful mermaids! Sand, sun, and seaweed all included!"

It was chaos every time.

On Thursday, however, the laughter faded a bit in both the Gryffindor and Slytherin dormitories. A new challenge loomed.

Flying class.

For the first time, the first-years would be learning how to ride a broomstick.

The announcement had come on Monday, and excitement had built up all week. Students were either thrilled, terrified, or desperately pretending to be experts.

Seamus Finnigan was one of the loudest of the bunch. According to him, he'd been flying since before he could walk. Anyone listening would think he'd grown up eating breakfast on a broomstick.

Harry was stunned.

"What?" he blurted. "But you're so good at everything else! I thought you'd have been flying since you were little."

Peter raised his teacup and took a leisurely sip, reclining against the windowsill of the Ravenclaw common room where he'd come, as usual, for snacks and conversation.

"I never said I was good at flying," he said calmly. "I just never had the chance. My family is strict about safety. They think riding brooms before Hogwarts is reckless. I've read about it, of course, but theory and practice are two very different things."

Harry didn't know whether to feel comforted or even more nervous.

"You're saying you've never touched a broom?"

Peter tilted his head. "I've touched one. I polished one once. Does that count?"

Harry groaned.

"Don't worry," Peter added with a grin. "If Malfoy tries to show off, just smile and remember that flying fast doesn't mean flying smart. Oh and don't lean too far forward when you take off. You'll nosedive into the grass. It's embarrassing."

"Have you… seen someone do that?"

"Yes," Peter said with a knowing smirk. "And if you're lucky, it won't be you."

Harry stammered, pointing at Ron. "But Ron said he..."

"Yeah, how he almost hit a Muggle plane, right? That was a dream he had after I took him to see a Muggle movie," Peter said with a laugh. "Don't worry, Harry, they're all exaggerating. Even in wizarding families, most parents wouldn't let little kids touch a flying broom before school."

Harry wasn't sure if Peter was just trying to make him feel better, so he remained doubtful at least until the afternoon class.

The Gryffindor and Slytherin first-years stood in neat rows before their brooms. Madam Hooch, the flying instructor and Quidditch referee, paced in front of them and barked out her orders.

"I've explained all the safety rules already. What are you waiting for? Stretch out your right hand over the broom and say, 'Up!'"

"Up!" echoed the class.

Harry's broom jumped straight into his hand on the first try. He looked around, startled.

It turned out most of the loudest braggers had failed. On the Gryffindor side, only Hermione managed to get her broom to twitch.

Among the Slytherins, Peter was the only one whose broom responded instantly.

Among the Slytherins, only Peter's broom rose cleanly into his hand.

So much for all the boasting.

Peter was just as surprised as anyone. He had never been particularly interested in broom riding, and the system hadn't mentioned any talent related to flying.

Honestly, he thought he'd need a few tries to get it right.

Still, discovering a hidden talent wasn't a bad thing.

When Madam Hooch finally gave the command for them to lift off, it was Peter and Harry who rose smoothly into the air.

The crowd of first-years watching from below stared in awe and envy.