Before this school year, Slytherin House had already secured six consecutive House Cup victories. One more, and they would carve an unprecedented record in Hogwarts history—seven in a row.
For Severus Snape, that meant only one thing: obsession.
Especially since Harry Potter had entered Gryffindor. Snape refused to lose this year's Cup to James Potter's son—even if that same boy was also Lily Evans's.
He had never deducted points from his own students before, and he had no intention of starting now.
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Snape's Frustration
The problem wasn't the Cup. It was Tom Riddle.
Rozier and the others had provoked him, yes. But if they hadn't started it, would Snape have been forced to recall memories he would rather bury forever?
He didn't want to punish Tom for the fight. He wanted to punish him because the boy had stabbed his heart with the word "mudblood."
Still, Snape couldn't act outside the rules. He needed an outlet—some way to vent his fury.
His eyes narrowed.
"Since you dislike your roommates so much, Riddle… I'll give you solitude. Detention. One week. Abandoned classroom. Starting tonight."
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Tom's Rebellion
"No."
The word was so casual, so blunt, that for a moment Snape thought he had misheard.
"What?"
Tom shrugged. "I won't go."
Snape's jaw tightened. "You… what did you just say?"
"That's right," Tom said calmly. "I didn't do anything wrong. Why should I be put in solitary confinement? If anyone deserves detention, it's Rozier and his friends."
Snape's voice rose to a roar. "Do you think I'm discussing this with you? Detention is my right as professor. You have no right to refuse!"
Tom blinked innocently. "I'm not going anyway. If you want to punish me, fine—deduct points, write a demerit, even expel me. Those I can't resist. But detention? My legs are my own. If I say I won't go, I won't go."
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Snape's Dilemma
Snape's hands twitched. He wanted to hex the boy, shake him until his arrogance cracked. But his mind spun through the options.
Teachers had only a few tools: deduct House points, assign detention, report to the Head of House, inform parents, give warnings, expel.
Deduct points? Impossible—Tom was Slytherin. To cut points would wound his own House.
Report to himself? Absurd.
Inform parents? Worthless—Tom was an orphan.
Detention? Refused.
Warnings and expulsion? Beyond his authority—those required Dumbledore's approval.
If he told Dumbledore, the Headmaster would probably pat Tom on the head instead.
Snape's stomach twisted. "This boy is invincible."
He glared at Tom, who looked maddeningly smug, like a hedgehog rolled into a ball—untouchable no matter how you approached.
Snape's blood pressure spiked.
"Get out! OUT!"
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The Exit
Tom rose smoothly. "Goodbye, Professor."
Before leaving, he left the door wide open—forcing Snape to walk across the office to shut it. A small, petty revenge for being ignored upon entry.
Unfortunately, Tom forgot this was the magical world.
Bang!
With a furious flick of his wand, Snape slammed the door so hard that the entire corridor trembled. Students gathering for Potions flinched and cast curious glances at Tom as he strolled out, perfectly composed.
Inside, Snape sat gasping for breath, chest rising and falling.
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Snape's Pain
There is a theory in psychology—cognitive dissonance. When one's behavior clashes with self-image, the brain distorts memories to shield itself from unbearable regret.
Snape had built his life around such distortion. He buried his greatest mistake beneath layers of denial.
But today, a first-year boy had ripped open the scar.
Tom's words rang like a curse in his ears:
"Anyone who calls others a mudblood should be cut into pieces. Such people don't deserve love."
Snape's lips twisted, half laughter, half sob. His chest constricted as though crushed by iron bands.
"Lily…"
For the first time in years, the Potions Master arrived late to class. When he finally appeared, his face was like a mask of ice.
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Daphne's Relief
Elsewhere, Daphne lit up when she saw Tom return to the common room, completely unharmed.
"So Professor Snape is reasonable! Those upper years must have exaggerated."
Tom smirked. "Reasonable, yes… in his way."
Indeed, Snape had not punished him. Their battle had stayed in words, not wands. Despite the storm of rage, Snape had held back. Tom's careful preparations—ready to counter spells, ready to twist rules—hadn't even been needed.
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A Sister's Smile
By the lake-view window, Daphne chatted about her sister.
"I'll buy a camera. I want to capture the scenery here for Astoria. She'll love it."
Tom chuckled. "You really adore your sister. Severe case of sister-complex, I'd say."
Daphne's smile softened. "When you meet Astoria next year, you'll understand. She's wonderful."
Tom nodded. "If the elder sister's so cute, the younger one can't be much worse."
The unexpected compliment turned Daphne scarlet. Her face flamed, and she bolted into the girls' dormitory without another word.
Tom blinked. "…This girl blushes so easily?"
He shook his head. Truthfully, Daphne had been so sheltered by her family that she had little experience with boys. Any straightforward praise left her defenseless.
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Back to the Dormitory
Tom returned to his own room later, ready to confront the three traitorous roommates.
But the dorm was empty. Zabini, Nott, Rosier—nowhere to be found.
Disappointed, Tom sat, cast a Disillusionment Charm over himself, and slipped into the study space.
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Andros's Suggestion
Inside, Andros sat cross-legged, eyes closed. When Tom appeared, the ancient warrior cracked one eye open and smiled faintly.
"Your Potions Master has quite the stash of treasures."
He leaned forward, grin sharp.
"We must find a way to take advantage of him."
Tom blinked. "???"
"Is it really that exciting the moment I walk in?"
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