"Voldemort is back."
"..."
"..."
Draco's words made the air in the Slytherin common room turn crushingly heavy in an instant.
No one thought they'd misheard him—especially since Draco had even repeated himself with unsettling clarity.
Except for the small group who had already pledged themselves to Draco and seemed to know the truth in advance, every other Slytherin's face drained of color.
And no one believed Draco Malfoy would drag them out at night just to joke about something like this.
Not when hints of something wrong had already been trickling in from their families.
They simply never imagined it would be this—the return of the Dark Lord.
It was too shocking...
Once the initial panic quieted—whether thanks to Draco's prolonged silence or the unshaken composure of his followers like Goyle and Crabbe—the Slytherins slowly regained control of themselves.
Draco wasn't surprised by how quickly they accepted the news.
The Ministry leaking like a sieve, the interests entangled among pureblood families—together, these ensured that whenever the British wizarding world stirred, the families behind these Slytherins were the first to know.
No doubt they'd already caught wind of something.
The only differences were how much they knew and when they'd heard it...
But regardless—
This was still the Dark Lord who had once devastated the British wizarding world. The moment Draco spoke his name, whether they doubted the truth or were hearing it for the first time, every Slytherin fell silent.
Because no one understood Voldemort's terror more deeply than Slytherins did.
The Dark Lord was merciless to enemies—and even more merciless to his own followers...
...
The flickering candlelight cast shadows across Draco's form. His still, upright posture made the Slytherins instinctively quiet their breaths. Their movements softened, touched by a faint reverence.
They might not have followed Draco as early as Goyle and Crabbe, but faced with the wizard who had commanded Fiendfyre before their eyes, even these proud, defiant Slytherins lowered their heads...
This is... the power truly hidden within Slytherin.
As Draco scanned the students below, the gaze concealed behind the candlelight deepened.
Slytherin's strength wasn't the supposed Chamber of Secrets heir, nor the basilisk Draco had slain—it was the immense influence and authority held by the families behind these students.
In truth, Voldemort's actions had always shown what he valued most.
Beyond personal power and immortality, the Dark Lord's keenest interest likely lay in these very wizards.
And now, Draco seemed to be walking a similar path.
But unlike Voldemort, Draco would not repeat the same mistakes...
"News of the Dark Lord's revival," he said calmly, "will soon reach you through your families."
"If that's the case," a voice spoke up, "why did you, Malfoy… choose to tell us this yourself? And why gather us specifically at a time like this?"
Draco looked toward the witch who stepped out from the crowd. Pansy murmured her name at his ear.
Millicent Bulstrode.
This plump, dark-haired witch belonged to the Bulstrode family, one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight.
Despite her round, soft features giving her a harmless look, her question cut cleanly into the heart of the matter, almost as if she were subtly guarding against something...
Draco didn't answer. He merely cast a glance her way—yet that single glance made Millicent Bulstrode jolt.
It felt like a dragon's eyes were fixed on her. Instinctively, she fell silent and withdrew.
No one paid her reaction much mind. Every gaze was now locked on Draco—on what he would reveal next.
"If nothing unexpected has happened," Draco said quietly, "then a member of one of your families—perhaps even a close relative—is standing before the Dark Lord right now."
"......"
"Don't forget—the Dark Mark can gather his loyal Death Eaters in an instant."
The Slytherins present weren't fools... well—Goyle and Crabbe didn't count.
In any case, it wasn't hard to imagine what Voldemort would do the moment he returned: reclaim everything and take revenge. His first actions would be summoning his followers and punishing the ones who betrayed him.
And conveniently, the ones who had supported him—those who wanted purebloods to rule over the wizarding world and even the Muggle world—were the previous generation of Slytherins, the very families behind them.
Clearly, if one wished to avoid such a fate, the only option was to regain the Dark Lord's forgiveness and return to the ranks of the Death Eaters...
…
"So, you're trying to convince us to join Dumbledore's camp… is that it?"
When he said this, the Slytherin's tone was strangely distorted, almost unnatural.
At that moment, most of the wizards below no longer looked at Draco with the same passionate admiration as before. Before Pansy could bristle in outrage, Draco spoke calmly.
"Why join?"
"Why? We may dislike Dumbledore, but without his power—wait!?"
The Slytherin who had instinctively argued back froze, suddenly realizing what Draco's question truly implied.
The other wizards who understood it as well widened their eyes, staring ahead at Draco Malfoy, who watched them with complete composure.
No matter how foolish it sounded—no matter how unbelievable—
The moment they saw Draco's steady expression, and the growing fervor of the followers surrounding him, every Slytherin present understood exactly what Draco wanted to convey tonight.
No… perhaps the Malfoy family had already begun contacting the powers behind their respective families.
And Draco seemed to have an even larger purpose behind all of this...