Checking in from the army! I only got my phone for one night, so please excuse any potential errors in the text. If you notice anything, don't hesitate to let me know.
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In the Slytherin first-years' dormitory, the air had condensed into a thick, icy silence. The stone walls seemed to absorb the rising threat, and the greenish light filtering through the windows beneath the lake only accentuated the ominous atmosphere. Viktor's sudden, utterly out-of-place laughter struck a dissonant chord, breaking the oppressive quiet, its echo bouncing off the walls, making some students involuntarily shiver.
Draco Malfoy stepped forward, emerging from the dense circle of Slytherins. His face, usually pale and arrogant, was now contorted with fury and contempt. A cold, serpentine resolve burned in his eyes.
"Listen, Mudblood!" Malfoy spat sharply, his voice harsh and full of hatred, almost a snarl. "Today I'll show you what a real wizard means! Even if you beg for mercy, tonight it won't help! Tonight you'll understand your place, and tomorrow, when we wake up, you'll be waiting on your knees and fulfilling our every request!"
Crabbe and Goyle, standing on either side of Malfoy, burst into laughter, their rough, raspy chuckles filling the room. The other Slytherins, forming a circle, smirked in anticipation of the spectacle, their eyes gleaming in the gloom.
Viktor's expression didn't change. His sunny, slightly mad smile only widened, transforming into something eerie. He unhurriedly looked around, his gaze sweeping over each of the thirteen young wizards surrounding him. Then he looked back at Malfoy and suddenly burst into wild, piercing laughter. This laugh was completely abnormal, so loud and unexpected, so devoid of humor, that some of the Slytherins, including even the older students standing by the door, involuntarily began to back away, as if from an invisible, irrational threat. The sound of his laughter was like an omen of chaos; it made them instinctively feel a chill in their stomachs.
And suddenly, Viktor's wand slipped from his sleeve. It instantly settled into his palm as if it had always been there, an extension of himself. Without a second's hesitation, Viktor waved it. Multi-colored flashes of light erupted from the tip of the wand, and with dull thuds and clangs, all the students' wands, aimed at him, flew off to the sides, hitting the walls and floor, some even breaking.
Then Viktor said clearly and loudly, with a theatrical pause: "Levicorpus!"
And at that very moment, to the Slytherins' horror, all thirteen students, including Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle, suddenly shot into the air. They hung upside down from the dormitory ceiling, their robes dangling, their faces contorted with panic. Genuine terror, mixed with utter bewilderment, was evident in their eyes. They desperately thrashed their legs, tried to say something, but only incoherent mooing sounds, like death rattles, escaped their mouths.
Finally, having finished laughing, Viktor waved his hand, and Malfoy flew towards him like a puppet on strings. He twitched helplessly in the air, trying to regain his balance, his platinum hair comically disheveled.
"What are you doing?!" Malfoy shrieked, his voice full of fury and fear, almost a squeal. "Let me go! Do you know who my father is?! He'll—"
Viktor didn't let him finish. He waved his wand again, his movement sharp and precise, and pronounced: "Silencio!"
Malfoy instantly fell silent. His mouth opened in a soundless scream, but no sound escaped. Pure panic was in his eyes; he couldn't utter a word, his mute, agonizing scream hung in the air like a cloud of invisible despair.
Viktor surveyed everyone with his gaze, his smile now a little colder, more predatory.
"Now listen to me," he said, his voice calm, but with a steel that brooked no argument. "From now on, everyone listens to me. If I speak, you do. Did everyone hear me?" He paused, allowing his words to sink into each of them.
Some of the dangling Slytherins, who had already felt his power and were truly terrified, immediately agreed with trembling nods of their heads. It was in their blood – Slytherins always obeyed whoever was stronger and more dominant. Seeing his absolute and brutal power, they had already begun to accept him as their leader, even if it was against their will and pride. But there were also those who remained silent, their eyes expressing stubborn defiance despite the fear, their jaws tightly clenched.
Viktor, unhurriedly waving his wand, released those who had agreed. They fell to the floor with dull thuds, landing heavily on their knees and hands, but immediately began to hastily get up, their movements showing subservience and a desire to please.
"And now," Viktor continued, addressing those who stood on their feet, his voice sounding like a command. "Move all the beds away from the window. Leave only one. I need my personal space."
One of the girls stammered in fear, muttering, "We have private rooms... they're meant for children from the Twenty-Eight Families..."
Viktor raised an eyebrow in surprise, as if she had told him something extraordinary. "Stop. Rearrangement... And you," he pointed his wand at the girl, his eyes narrowed. "Remember that thought. We'll continue later." The girl nodded fearfully, her face pale as a sheet, her gaze glazed with terror.
Viktor looked at the remaining four people who still hung from the ceiling like puppets on invisible strings: Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle, and Daphne Greengrass.
"So, you're the proudest among us, are you?" he asked with a slight, cutting mockery.
Daphne, despite her humiliating position, gathered all her Slytherin pride. Her face, though pale, was resolute, and a spark of defiance flashed in her eyes. She smiled slightly, her voice trembling with tension, but she said, "Viktor, let me go. I won't obey you, but I won't hinder you anymore. This is my honor."
Viktor pondered. His smile widened slightly, turning into something sinister. "I think my answer is no." He waved his wand, his movement quick and sharp, pointing it at Daphne.
From one of the beds, like a trap sprung, a snow-white sheet flew towards her. Like a living, predatory snake, it instantly wrapped around her neck, and then, with alarming speed, wound around her entire body, pinning her arms to her sides, preventing movement. Then Daphne's body was released downwards, hanging by the sheet, which formed a tight, suffocating noose around her throat. Daphne began to choke, her face turning red, then blue, the veins in her neck bulging. She thrashed helplessly, gasping for air, trying to free herself, but the sheet held her in a death grip, relentlessly tightening.
The other students, standing on the floor, cowered in horror. Some even covered their mouths with their hands to stifle screams. Crabbe and Goyle exchanged glances, a realization dawning in their eyes that the same fate awaited them if they didn't comply. And Malfoy, still mute, just hung silently, his eyes wide with pain and despair, tears streaming down his cheeks, mixing with dirt.
When Daphne was almost completely blue and her convulsions began to subside, her body going limp, Viktor waved his hand. The sheet instantly loosened its grip, and Daphne fell to the ground with a dull thud. The sheet, as if by magic, immediately wrapped around her again, tying her to the floor, leaving Daphne lying bound, gasping for air, tears in her eyes, trembling all over.
Viktor turned to the others, who stood in a row behind him, pale and trembling, even afraid to utter a sound.
"Bring me a chair, I feel like it's going to be a long night," he said with a slight, ominous smile.
One of the boys, pale and scared, immediately rushed to obey and brought him a chair. Viktor placed it next to Daphne, sat down, leaned back, and casually crossed his leg over the other, as if he were on a picnic, enjoying the spectacle.
Daphne finally caught her breath, her voice hoarse and full of indignation, but she tried to maintain a shred of dignity. "Are you insane?!" she croaked, her eyes flashing. "I almost died!"
Viktor looked at her with a predatory smile, his eyes gleaming with mad fire. "Yes, I even have a certificate," he said, his voice full of sinister amusement.
Daphne trembled, her eyes wide. She murmured, barely audible, "My family won't let you get away with this so easily..."
Viktor chuckled, his laugh low, guttural, and menacing, like the growl of a wild beast. He looked at the three who were still fearfully hanging from the ceiling, helplessly thrashing their legs.
"And what should I do with you?" he asked, his voice mocking, as if he were choosing between toys.
At this, Crabbe and Goyle, their faces distorted with fear and humiliation, began to beg him to leave them alone, promising that they would serve him faithfully, anything if he would just let them go.
Viktor smirked, his smile cold and calculating. He waved his wand, and both of them fell to the floor with a dull thud. They immediately began to thank him hysterically, as if he had done them the greatest favor, and rushed to the others, hiding behind their backs, trembling with fear.
Viktor extended his hand, and Malfoy, trembling all over, was pulled towards him. He hung directly in front of Viktor, his eyes full of pure, animal terror, tears streaming down his cheeks.
"You turned out to be quite tough, didn't you?" Viktor said, carefully examining Malfoy's tear-swollen face, his voice almost caressing, which made it even more terrifying. "Well, if magic doesn't help, we'll go another way."
And he delivered a loud, resounding slap. The sound of the blow echoed through the room, making everyone present flinch. But Malfoy said nothing, continuing to hang silently, only his body twitching from the impact.
Viktor was truly surprised. He remembered Draco from the movies and thought he would immediately give up and cry as soon as he felt physical pain. But he held on. And Viktor continued to hit him, one slap after another, the sound echoing through the room in the silence.
After a few minutes, Malfoy's face was completely swollen, crimson, disfigured with bruises, and tears streamed down his cheeks, mixing with dirt. But he remained silent, his eyes full of pain and despair, but not a sound, not a moan escaped his mouth. He didn't make a single noise.
"My God, Malfoy," Viktor said, his tone slightly changing, something akin to respect, even admiration, flickering in his voice. "You're a fighter, aren't you! I'm even starting to think about letting you go. Alright..."
He stood up, began to roll up the sleeves of his robe, as if preparing for hard, bloody work. Then he summoned a glass, and with his wand, with a sharp sound of transformation, turned it into a shiny, metallic knuckle duster. He slowly, demonstratively, put it on his fist, and the metal gleamed coldly in the dim light, foreshadowing pain.
"If you still say nothing after this, then so be it, I'll let you go," he pronounced, his voice low and threatening, promising unbearable torment.
Viktor raised his fist, preparing to strike, his movements slow and methodical. Pure, animal terror was in Malfoy's eyes; he knew this was the end. And then, at this critical moment, Daphne, lying bound on the floor, spoke, her voice hoarse but clear.
"The spell..." she whispered softly, trying to help.
Viktor stopped, his fist frozen an inch from Malfoy's face. He looked at her questioningly, narrowing his eyes slightly.
"What spell?" he asked, his tone calm, but with a barely perceptible irritation at being interrupted.
And Daphne, breathing with difficulty, replied, her voice trembling with weakness: "Not 'what'... but your spell! He can't talk! Your Silencio!"
Viktor froze. A second, two... Then his eyes widened, and he burst into loud, booming laughter. His laughter filled the room, the laughter of a man who had just realized his incredible, foolish mistake.
"Right! I forgot!" he exclaimed, continuing to laugh, his voice full of self-satisfaction. He took his wand and, with a wave, canceled his spell.
At that very moment, Malfoy, freed from his muteness, immediately began to cry, sobbing loudly and uncontrollably. He begged Viktor to stop, trembling all over, and began to babble incoherently about telling his father everything, complaining, demanding punishment, cursing Viktor and promising him a thousand misfortunes.
Viktor, hearing his words, demonstratively began to slowly, deliberately slowly, put the knuckle duster back on his fist, his movements heavy and threatening.
"I see you didn't understand anything," he pronounced, his voice cold as ice, with no trace of his previous amusement.
Malfoy, seeing this, immediately cut short his threats, his eyes wide with terror. He began to scream, sobbing: "I understand! I understand! Sorry! I understand everything!"
Viktor gently patted his swollen cheek. "My clever boy. Why didn't you say so right away?" he said, his voice soft, almost affectionate, which made him even more terrifying.
Malfoy, despite the pain and humiliation, looked at him with fury and hatred, but bitter, agonizing understanding was also in his eyes.
Viktor looked him straight in the eyes, his gaze piercing and demanding: "Yes, I think you've understood everything for today. But let's not rule out further training." He waved his wand, and Malfoy, freed from the spell, immediately fell to the ground, breathing heavily.
Crabbe and Goyle, with their broad, clumsy movements, immediately rushed over, grabbed the exhausted Malfoy, who had just been through hell, and, apologizing to Viktor, muttering something incoherent, carried him out of the room like a sack of potatoes.
Viktor sighed, as if after a long and tiresome task. He walked around the room, surveying the havoc. "How good it is..." he muttered to himself, a satisfied smile appearing on his face. Then he looked at Daphne, who was still lying tied on the floor, trying to catch her breath.
Daphne, seeing his gaze, closed her eyes, took a deep breath as if resigning herself to the inevitable, and said, her voice calmer now, but with a hidden threat: "Alright, have it your way, Moss. But just so you know, maybe you're safe at school, but when you leave here, you'll regret everything. My family... they won't forgive this."
Viktor knelt beside her and, stroking her head like a puppy, which made her blush deeply and flinch, said, his voice soft but ringing with unwavering confidence: "I am not afraid of the future. I live in the present, and future problems will be solved by future Viktor. And for now... you should learn to accept defeat. It's good for growth."
On his face, that sunny, slightly mad smile reappeared, which seemed to say, "I'm enjoying every minute of this chaos, and you'll all be part of my show." At that moment, the Slytherins remaining in the room looked at him with horror and, at the same time, with a nascent, chilling reverence. They understood: this Muggle-born hadn't just gotten into Slytherin – he was going to lead it.