"Shadow Prefect?"
The moment the term was mentioned, the first-years buzzed with whispers of curiosity.
Steve stood and clapped his hands to regain their attention.
"As you've just heard, unlike the rest of Hogwarts where Prefects are only chosen starting in fifth year, here in Slytherin, we do things a little differently."
Indeed, driven by their pursuit of internal efficiency—and the House's inherently competitive culture—Slytherin had a long-standing tradition:
Each year selects its own representative. From the very start.
"And as for how we choose them… well—this is Slytherin. Strength is king!"
He pointed toward a platform off to the side—one that looked remarkably like a dueling table.
Marius immediately recognized it.
Raised in a pure-blood family, he had seen this kind of setup before.
It was a standard one-on-one dueling arena—compact, but no less dangerous.
Woosh!
A wave of nervous exclamations swept through the first-years.
Many of them didn't even know a single spell—much less how to duel with one!
"Quiet! Settle down!"
Samuel barked from the side. In his eyes, their panic was simply weakness unworthy of comment.
Sure, many first-years knew nothing of spells…
But just as many—like Marius—had grown up in elite environments, learning wand techniques and spell theory before they even got their Hogwarts letter.
That, Samuel thought, is the backbone of Slytherin's strength. That's why we can hold this competition every year from Day One.
As for those who couldn't even cast a spell?
Too weak to matter.
"Don't worry," Steve added with a calm smile.
"The duels follow strict rules and are closely supervised. There will be no accidents."
He bowed slightly in the direction of the common room door.
Everyone instinctively turned to look.
There—standing half-consumed by the shadows—was a figure cloaked in black.
Like a humanoid bat, Severus Snape had been lurking near the door the entire time.
Had they not looked closely, they might never have noticed him.
"I'll be watching," Snape said flatly.
"If there's any sign of danger, I'll intervene. There will be no fatalities allowed."
Marius raised an eyebrow.
So even Snape was aware of this shadowy tradition? That meant it wasn't just some underground student activity—it had historical legitimacy within Slytherin.
Still, since both of his parents had been Ravenclaws, they had never told him anything about such House-specific traditions.
They probably didn't even know.
"Now, would the Shadow Prefects from each year please come forward," Steve announced, clapping again.
"They are the ones you must offer the highest respect—each one the strongest in their year. Of course, at the beginning of every term, you are welcome to challenge them in a duel and take their title for yourself."
Clearly, if a reigning Shadow Prefect was defeated, they would lose all their prestige—and the new victor would inherit it all.
"I'm Barry Adrien, fourth-year Shadow Prefect."
A tall, slender boy with a sharp British look and a prominent hooked nose stepped forward.
Marius heard his name and almost wanted to ask if he had superspeed or some other mutant power.
"I'm Joseph Burton, third-year Shadow Prefect."
This next boy was a hulking presence—so large it was hard to believe he was only in his third year.
Marius recognized him as the same student who had earlier joked about Dumbledore's "madness."
"I'm Brunel Leif, second-year Shadow Prefect."
The voice came from right beside Marius.
He turned in surprise to see Brunel give him a sheepish smile before stepping forward to join the others.
That finally made sense.
Now Marius understood why everyone had looked so stunned when Brunel gave up his seat for him earlier.
A Shadow Prefect giving up his seat? That wasn't just kindness—it was a show of respect.
"Now, we begin the election for the first-year Shadow Prefect!"
Steve raised his voice.
All eyes turned to the dueling table.
But… no one moved.
The first-years looked at each other hesitantly, not one willing to be the first to step forward.
"What's the matter?" Samuel frowned.
"This year's Slytherin students… has your ambition and your fire truly burned out so soon? Not a single one of you dares step up?!"
From the shadows, Snape said nothing.
But the heavy silence and pressure radiating from his direction spoke volumes.
He was not pleased.
Marius merely watched with idle amusement.
Far across the room, Draco Malfoy noticed that Marius showed no signs of participating, and his eyes lit up.
Perfect.
He had been holding back this whole time, afraid that Marius might intervene.
But if Marius wasn't interested—then this was his moment.
"I'll go!" Draco shouted, leaping onto the dueling platform.
Once someone took the first step, others quickly followed.
Multiple students lined up to challenge Draco.
But the Malfoy heir lived up to his pedigree.
Years of elite education and natural talent put him leagues ahead of most first-years.
One by one, his challengers were defeated.
Eventually, no one else dared step forward.
Snape's expression finally softened.
Steve turned back to the group.
"Looks like there are no further challengers. That means—this year's Shadow Prefect will be—"
"Cloud, aren't you going to try?"
Pansy's voice interrupted, eyes full of anticipation.
In her mind, the role of first-year leader seemed almost tailor-made for Marius.
"It's not even an official position," Marius sighed.
"Just babysitting a bunch of snot-nosed kids. Too much trouble."
Pansy's expression dimmed.
"Sigh… can't believe it's someone like Malfoy becoming our Prefect…"
Marius's eyes glinted slightly.
"Oh? And if I did agree to take the role—what would you offer me in return?"
That made Pansy blush deeply.
But unlike most girls, her reaction wasn't shy hesitation.
Without a word, she leaned forward—and kissed Marius on the cheek.
"How about that as a reward?"
"…More than enough."
Marius smiled faintly and, before Steve could make his final declaration, stepped forward and walked onto the dueling platform.
Draco's face went pale the moment he saw him.
Steve also stiffened slightly.
Every Shadow Prefect, every first-year, even Snape himself—all eyes were now locked onto Marius Cloud.
He stopped in front of Draco, perfectly calm.
With effortless poise and unwavering gaze, he spoke quietly:
"So… will you step down on your own?
Or shall I help you down?"
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