Lucan sat at the Slytherin table, sandwiched between Darius Selwyn and a boy with long eyelashes and way too much cologne. Across the table, a girl with dark braids was whispering rapidly to another first-year who looked like he might cry.
The Great Hall was massive. Candles floated over their heads like lazy fireflies, casting a golden glow over everything. The ceiling above them was enchanted to look like the sky, it shimmered with stars and stretched far beyond what a roof ever should. Lucan caught himself staring up at it a little too long before quickly looking away.
"Still wish Cedric had made it," Darius muttered next to him, resting his chin on his hand. "Would've been better with the three of us."
Lucan glanced across the hall. Sure enough, Cedric was over at the Ravenclaw table, seated stiffly between two tall second-years.
"He fits in," Lucan said. "Sort of. I think."
Darius snorted. "He's probably memorizing potion ingredients already."
Lucan cracked a small smile. "You say that like it's a bad thing."
Just then, a soft voice to their right piped up. "They say Ravenclaws sleep in towers. Really high up. Imagine if you roll off the bed."
Both boys turned. It was the cologne kid. He didn't even look at them when he said it.
Before they could answer, the room began to hush. Dumbledore had stood up. His long silver beard shimmered, and his bright blue eyes twinkled behind half-moon spectacles.
"Welcome!" he said, arms open like he was hugging the entire room. "To old students, to new, to those who got here early and to those who got here on time. As you may have noticed, your ranks have grown a little. A whole new batch of curious minds. I encourage you all to be kind to one another."
"But before you all tuck in, I must introduce a new face among our staff…"
Heads turned toward the long staff table, where Dumbledore was gesturing towards the tall, middle-aged, bald, and green eyed man from earlier.
"This," Dumbledore continued, "is Professor Varius Thorn, our new Defense Against the Dark Arts instructor. Former curse-breaker, once spent three days stuck inside an upside-down pyramid, and fun fact, can recite twelve different anti-werewolf spells in his sleep."
Thorn gave a curt nod. No smile. Just a serious "don't mess around" kind of face.
"Now that we've all been properly introduced," Dumbledore said, clapping his hands once, "let the feast… BEGIN!"
With a sudden shimmer, food appeared on every plate. Roast chicken, golden potatoes, gravy boats, sausages, steaming vegetables, and dozens of things Lucan couldn't even name.
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Lucan sat in the middle of the Slytherin table, the last hints of dessert still fading from the silver plates before them. Candles floated high above, their light casting soft glows across the stone walls. He wasn't really listening to the hum of conversation anymore. His brown eyes wandered the long table, trying to memorize the faces of his new Housemates.
Some of them looked as nervous as he felt. Others already laughed together like they'd known each other for years.
Lucan was already wondering when they'd be allowed outside. He could almost feel the weight of his wand in his sleeve and the itching want to use it, even if he knew better than to try anything in the castle just yet. He had too much to prove and too little to mess up.
A tall, fifth-year student with a Slytherin prefect badge, snapped him out of his thoughts and approached their end of the table. She was elegant in a sharp sort of way, dark robes perfectly pressed, black hair tied back.
"First-years," she called, voice cool and clear, "this way. I'm Prefect Selina Rosier. I'll be taking you to the common room."
They stood quickly, scraping benches and gathering themselves. Lucan followed near the front, with Darius at his side. The corridor outside the Great Hall was quieter now, lit by fewer torches and more shadows. As they descended into the lower levels of the castle, the stones became darker, the air colder.
Lucan walked in silence for a while, stealing glances at the other first-years around him.
There was the boy from earlier just ahead with an unmistakable scent, something too sharp and musky, like overused cologne. He was tall, with shaggy dark hair slicked back as if he'd spent too much time in the mirror. He adjusted his collar again and again, clearly trying to stand straighter than everyone else.
"I'm Ewan Nott," he said noticing lucan starring. "You lot might as well remember that."
Behind Lucan, the girl from earlier, made a noise of disapproval.
She had sleek, glossy black hair and perfect posture, and wore her robes like she'd designed them herself. Her expression was constantly two shades away from a scowl. The flickering torchlight reflected in her pale blue eyes, which narrowed as she sniffed the air.
"Do you have to marinate in whatever that smell is?" she asked flatly, looking at Ewan.
"It's Basilisk Musk," Ewan said, lifting his chin. "Imported."
"Horrifying," she said, and gave Lucan a look that said, Can you believe him?
"I'm Livia Vane," she added, as if correcting the atmosphere.
Trailing beside her was a shorter boy, thin, dark-haired, and still red-eyed from what must've been crying earlier. His robes were a bit too large, and he kept nervously pulling at the sleeves.
"Gaius Vane," he said softly when Lucan gave him a small nod. "She's my cousin."
The group turned a corner and passed an enormous suit of armor that seemed to groan as they walked by. Somewhere deeper in the castle, the sound of dripping echoed like slow footsteps.
Soon, they came to a halt in front of a blank, damp-looking stretch of stone wall.
"This," said Selina Rosier, "is the entrance to the Slytherin common room. You will only be allowed in with the correct password."
She turned and faced them.
"For now, the password is Salazar. Remember it. You won't be let in without it."
She turned back and said the word clearly. "Salazar."
The wall shifted, grinding silently open to reveal a long, low tunnel lit by soft green flames.
They stepped inside.
Lucan felt the air change instantly, cooler, quieter, thicker. The common room was wide and low-ceilinged, with deep green and black stone archways and a soft flickering glow from enchanted lamps. Carved furniture, silver-trimmed couches, and dark wooden tables were scattered across the floor. The fireplace burned low, casting shadows along the tapestries of serpents and silver thread.
Along the far wall, long windows looked out, not to the grounds, but into murky green water. Shapes drifted past, slow and huge.
"Is that—?" Gaius started.
"The lake," Livia finished for him, tilting her head. "We're under it."
Lucan stared at the dark water, something moving just beyond the glass. The reflection of torchlight shimmered in its wake.
"Girls' dormitory to the left, boys' to the right. Your trunks have been delivered to your beds. Keep your voices down—it's late."
Lucan followed the other boys toward the right corridor, boots clicking on stone. Darius walked beside him.