The grey heir

The descent into the dungeons was colder than expected.

The torches flickered against damp stone as the newly sorted Slytherins followed Prefect Gemma Farley through winding halls beneath the castle. The sound of footsteps echoed strangely underground, like whispers too quiet to hear.

They stopped before a stretch of wall carved with serpents and Latin script. Gemma tapped her wand once, and the stone melted away, revealing an arched doorway.

"Welcome to the House of Salazar," she said crisply, ushering them inside.

The Slytherin common room opened like a noble hall—vast and vaulted, its green-glass windows looking directly into the lake. Soft light filtered through water, casting moving shadows on black marble floors. The walls were dark stone etched with silver serpents, and velvet lounges circled a low-burning fire.

Professor Snape stood waiting.

He didn't smile. He didn't need to.

"You are here because you possess qualities the rest of the school fears," he said, voice as cool as the stone. "Ambition. Cleverness. Self-preservation."

He paced slowly before them.

"Slytherin House does not tolerate laziness or foolishness. You represent a legacy older than the castle itself. You are expected to uphold that legacy every day. Work hard. Watch each other. Learn how to succeed, and more importantly, how to do so without making enemies."

He paused to let the words sink in.

"If you bring disgrace to this House, you will answer to me. If you rise above the rest, you will be rewarded."

With that, he turned and disappeared into the shadows without another word.

Gemma clapped once, sharply. "Rooms are individual. That's one of our advantages. You'll find your keys on the silver tray by the hearth. Don't lose them. Stick to curfew and don't mess with the wards. They're meant to protect you—but they don't go easy on rulebreakers."

The first-years moved toward the tray, murmuring with nervous excitement. Harry stayed back for a moment, watching.

Eyes were already on him—curious, speculative, cautious. Blaise Zabini gave him a polite nod. Theodore Nott lingered a little, but kept his distance. Millicent Bulstrode raised an eyebrow as she passed. Crabbe and Goyle stared like they were trying to figure him out.

"Potter, right?" drawled a familiar voice.

Draco Malfoy stepped up beside him.

"Yes," Harry answered calmly.

"You didn't seem surprised when the hat sorted you here," Draco said.

"I wasn't," Harry replied simply.

Draco looked at him more closely. "Most people react. Slytherin's not exactly subtle."

"I'm not most people," Harry said.

Malfoy smirked, not insulted. "Clearly. So, where did you grow up? Pure-blood family?"

"I was raised in a quiet place. Away from the magical world, mostly."

Draco nodded slowly. "Makes sense. You don't talk like a Muggle-raised kid. You don't look nervous, either."

Harry gave a faint shrug. "I've had worse days."

Draco let out a short chuckle. "You'll do well here, I think. Most of the others are still getting used to things."

"Let them get used to it," Harry replied. "We all adapt at our own pace."

Draco looked like he wanted to say more, but then just nodded and motioned toward the keys. "You'll find your room key there. Mine's on the left wing. Maybe I'll see you at breakfast."

"Maybe," Harry said with a slight nod.

They separated with the sort of politeness that came not from friendship, but mutual understanding.

---

Harry's room was at the end of a stone hallway lined with flickering sconces that glowed a soft green.

He turned the silver key in the lock and stepped inside.

The room was elegant and private. The walls were smooth blackstone streaked with green veins. A four-poster bed with emerald curtains stood to the side, its bedding made of fine silk. A fireplace glowed with a low flame, and a sturdy desk sat in the corner, already stocked with writing materials.

He dropped his bag near the bed. Iskaris slithered from his sleeve and coiled contentedly near the warm hearth, flicking his tongue.

Harry cast a quiet Imperturbable Charm around his bed space, followed by a simple ward to shield sound. He wanted privacy—but not enough to raise suspicion.

Sitting at the desk, he opened a slim notebook and began writing in a firm, neat script.

Day One: Sorted. Slytherin expectations clear. Draco Malfoy approached early. Polite, guarded. No immediate hostility. Others curious but reserved. Snape delivered his message plainly. No surprises yet.

He paused for a moment, tapping the quill.

Keep a low profile. Blend in. Observe everyone.

He glanced at the fireplace, where Iskaris lifted his head slightly.

"Think they'll start asking more questions tomorrow?" Harry murmured.

The snake flicked his tongue. "They are humans. Of course they will."

Harry smirked.

The lake shadows danced along the stone floor. Outside the enchanted window, something large drifted past the glass—maybe the giant squid.

For now, Hogwarts was calm.

But not for long.

---

To be continued...