The next morning, Evelyn woke up before anyone else. It was a habit from her old life—waking up early to get a few hours of gaming in before her soul-crushing job. In the eerie green light of the dorm room, she got dressed without a sound. The other girls were still just lumps under their velvet blankets. Perfect.
She slipped out into the common room. It was empty, except for a couple of older students passed out on the couches near the dying fire. She didn't head to the Great Hall just yet. Instead, she walked over to one of the large windows looking out into the lake.
Okay, first day, she thought, watching a grindylow bare its teeth at her through the thick glass. Time to set the tone.
Her plan wasn't to be a hero or a villain. It was to be... efficient. In Witchcraft: Legacy, the most successful playthroughs were the ones where you established a reputation for quiet competence right from the start. You didn't pick fights, but you made sure everyone knew you could finish them.
When the other first-years finally straggled out of their rooms, she was already waiting by the portrait hole, looking like she'd been ready for hours. Malfoy and his crew just sneered at her as they walked past. She didn't even blink.
Breakfast in the Great Hall was more of the same. She sat at the end of the Slytherin table, eating her toast in a bubble of silence. Across the hall, she could see the Gryffindor first-years talking and laughing. Ron Weasley was trying to talk with his mouth full, and Hermione was already reading a huge book propped up against a jug of pumpkin juice. Harry was just looking around, taking it all in. For a second, his eyes met Evelyn's. He gave a small, uncertain smile. She just gave a slight nod back before turning her attention to her schedule.
First up: Potions. Down in the dungeons. With the Gryffindors.
Oh, this is gonna be fun, she thought with a flicker of genuine excitement.
The potions classroom was just as cold and creepy as she remembered. Jars of pickled animals and slimy things lined the walls, and the air smelled like bitter herbs and failure. The Slytherins took the desks on one side of the room, the Gryffindors on the other. Evelyn chose a spot by herself in the back.
Then, the door slammed open, and Professor Snape swept in, his black robes billowing behind him like a storm cloud.
"There will be no foolish wand-waving or silly incantations in this class," he began, his voice barely a whisper but somehow filling the entire room. "As such, I don't expect many of you to appreciate the subtle science and exact art that is potion-making."
His eyes scanned the room, lingering on the Gryffindors with obvious disgust before finally landing on Harry.
"Potter!" Snape snapped. "Our new... celebrity."
Harry sat up straight.
"Tell me, what would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"
Hermione's hand shot into the air, but Harry just looked confused. Evelyn knew the answer instantly. It was the Draught of Living Death. It was also, according to the game's lore-codex, a symbolic message in Victorian flower language meaning, 'I bitterly regret Lily's death'. Snape was a drama queen.
"I don't know, sir," Harry said.
"Tut, tut. Fame clearly isn't everything," Snape sneered. He didn't even look at Hermione's frantically waving hand. "Let's try again. Where, Potter, would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"
"I don't know, sir."
"And what is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?"
"I don't know, sir."
Snape's lip curled. "Pity. Clearly, you have not opened a book before coming here." He finally turned his glare away from Harry. "Does anyone know the answer?"
Hermione looked like she was about to levitate out of her chair from sheer desperation. But Evelyn decided it was time. She slowly raised her hand.
Snape's eyes narrowed. He seemed surprised that a Slytherin, and one he didn't recognize, was volunteering. "Yes... you."
"A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat, and it will save you from most poisons," Evelyn said, her voice perfectly level and calm. "As for monkshood and wolfsbane, they're the same plant, which also goes by the name of aconite. And as for your first question, asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of Living Death."
The room was dead silent. Ron Weasley's jaw was hanging open. Harry was staring at her with wide eyes. Even Malfoy looked impressed, just for a second, before catching himself and smoothing his expression back into a sneer.
Hermione slowly lowered her hand, looking at Evelyn with a complex mix of frustration and awe.
But the best reaction was Snape's. He stared at her, his black eyes unreadable. He had expected to spend the next hour tormenting Potter. She had completely derailed his plan.
"...Correct," he finally clipped out. "Five points... to Slytherin."
He said it like the words physically pained him.
For the rest of the class, he didn't call on her again. But she could feel his eyes on her. And she could feel the other students' eyes on her, too. The silence around her wasn't just ignoring her anymore. It was different. It was wary. It was curious.
When the bell rang, she packed her bag and walked out, not looking at anyone. She'd done exactly what she'd set out to do.
Her optional quest log flashed in the corner of her vision.
[Objective Complete: Establish a foothold]
[Objective Complete: Identify key players]
She allowed herself a small, internal smile. Phase one was complete.