New semester, fresh start.
Waking up early, Richie slipped into his enchanted trunk to get a head start on his studying.
Last night, after settling back into the dorm, he had formally introduced Terry, Anthony, and Stephen to his magically expanded trunk. Since he planned on disappearing inside it regularly, it was better to lay it all out now to avoid any weird misunderstandings.
After touring the miniature study inside the trunk, the three of them were incredibly jealous.
What kid wouldn't want their own personal, entirely private secret base?
But jealousy aside, they didn't have any ulterior motives. They were just genuinely hyped that Richie trusted them enough to share the secret.
Soon, the sound of his quiet recitation was interrupted by a knock on the trunk's inner "door" above the stairs.
"Richie, time for breakfast!" Terry called out from the dorm room.
Hearing that, Richie packed up his books, climbed the ladder out of the study, and hopped back into the dormitory.
With the new semester came a revised schedule. Flying class had been completely removed from the roster, causing plenty of complaints from the first-years.
Ravenclaw still had two morning blocks: a period of Charms, followed by Potions.
After getting ready, Richie grabbed his textbooks and headed down to the Great Hall with the guys for breakfast.
"I still can't believe the entire first semester is already over. I honestly feel like I haven't learned anything," Terry grumbled, clumsily slathering strawberry jam onto his toast.
"That's just because you grew up in a wizarding family. You're already used to all the basic stuff they teach in first year!" Anthony replied, taking a bite out of his sandwich.
"When I went home for the holidays and saw my mom manually cleaning the house, I physically had to stop myself from just casting a Scouring Charm. Thank God I remembered the Trace."
"I kept wanting to use the Wand-Lighting Charm, the Locking Spell... Man, magic is just too convenient!"
Stephen took a sip of his milk and spoke up, his tone completely casual. "Well, since the first semester is officially over, I suppose that curse is going to kick in soon."
"Curse?!" Terry and Anthony blurted out in unison.
Sitting beside them, Richie also turned to look at Stephen, genuinely curious.
Stephen looked at the three of them like they were completely uncultured peasants. He calmly pushed his glasses up his nose.
"Are you guys seriously telling me you don't know? The curse on the Defense Against the Dark Arts teaching position?"
Terry and Anthony shook their heads. Richie did the same.
Richie knew the position was essentially a meat grinder. Right now, it was Quirrell. Next year, it was supposed to be some arrogant fraud who wiped memories. The year after that was someone else he couldn't quite remember. But the bottom line was simple: absolutely no one lasted more than a single year.
Stephen dramatically lowered his voice, leaning in across the table.
"You guys obviously know about the Boy Who Lived, Harry Potter, right?"
Terry blinked. "Yeah, obviously. He's literally right over there in Gryffindor."
As he said it, something suddenly clicked. He froze, his eyes going wide. "Wait... are you saying this curse is connected to... You-Know-Who?"
Hearing that name, Anthony sharply inhaled.
Even though he was Muggle-born, after an entire semester of being immersed in wizarding culture, he was fully aware of the dark history between the Boy Who Lived and the Dark Lord.
"Exactly. Now listen," Stephen nodded, his tone dead serious.
"According to one of our upperclassmen, way before the First Wizarding War kicked off, You-Know-Who actually applied to Professor Dumbledore for the Defense Against the Dark Arts teaching position. When Dumbledore flat-out rejected him, he held a massive grudge and cursed the position with incredibly dark magic!"
"The curse guarantees two things: absolutely no one who takes the Defense Against the Dark Arts job will ever last more than a single year, and they are guaranteed to suffer some terrible misfortune by the end of it!"
"Oh, sweet Merlin, that's horrifying!" Terry shuddered, visibly spooked. "No wonder Professor Quirrell always looks like he's on his deathbed! His head wound refuses to heal, and that awful garlic stench he carries around just keeps getting stronger and stronger!"
Anthony, on the other hand, didn't look scared at all. Instead, he looked highly intrigued.
"What exact classification of curse is it? To sustain itself for decades without decaying... have the professors really never figured out a way to break it?"
Stephen faltered for a second before shaking his head. "I have no idea. But considering it's been active for this long, it's safe to assume nobody's been able to crack it."
Sitting quietly on the sidelines, Richie chewed his breakfast, mentally flagging the concept of "Curses" as an entirely new branch of magical research.
It was an incredibly dangerous field of magic. He absolutely needed to study it—or at the very least, understand its core mechanics. Otherwise, if he ever got hit with one, he'd be totally helpless.
After finishing breakfast, the group packed up and headed straight to the Charms classroom.
When they arrived, the Ravenclaws quickly realized that their partnered House for this block was Slytherin.
They were mostly just surprised they weren't paired with Hufflepuff like last semester. It wasn't like they actually had any real beef with Slytherin.
As for the Slytherins... they equally despised all three of the other Houses, so their completely indifferent attitude remained entirely unchanged.
Richie and his three roommates walked in and claimed their usual seats right in the front row.
While they were waiting for Professor Flitwick to arrive, three young Slytherins deliberately walked over to their table.
"Richie Harland."
Richie looked up. Standing right in front of their desk, radiating absolute arrogance, was a pale boy with slicked-back blonde hair.
"Draco Malfoy."
Richie recognized him immediately. The incredibly arrogant little brat who specialized in relentless verbal bullying.
"I see you know who I am." Draco's lips curled into a smug smirk.
"Our Houses shared a few classes last semester, but due to scheduling, we never actually got a proper introduction."
"Since we've got some time before class starts, I figured I would allow you the privilege of formally meeting me."
"I hail from one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. The Malfoy family."
"My father is the current head of the Malfoy estate. Naturally, that makes me the sole heir to the Malfoy legacy."
"My father also happens to be a chief governor on the Hogwarts Board of Governors, and easily one of the most highly respected senior advisors in the entire Ministry of Magic."
Draco paused, letting his massive flex hang in the air. Right on cue, the two bulky lackeys flanking him immediately started clapping like trained seals.
"These two are Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle," Draco said, gesturing to the human meat shields beside him.
Draco gave a highly satisfied nod, raising a hand to signal them to stop clapping.
Goyle caught the signal and instantly dropped his hands. Crabbe, however, just stood there staring blankly, continuing to awkwardly clap by himself.
Annoyed, Goyle aggressively kicked Crabbe in the shin. Crabbe finally snapped out of it, abruptly dropping his hands and shooting Goyle a deeply resentful glare.
Draco entirely ignored the idiocy happening behind him and locked eyes with Richie.
"My father always told me that exceptional people should only associate with other exceptional people. And that intelligent wizards only make friends with other intelligent wizards."
"Harland... Ravenclaw's 'Seven-Pointed Star.' I know for a fact that you are an incredibly smart person."
"Because of that, I'm absolutely certain you can see the sheer, overwhelming benefits of a mutual partnership here."
Oh~ So the little snake wants to make friends?
Richie looked dead at Draco. He furrowed his brow and slowly leaned back in his chair.
"Draco... Malfoy, was it?"
Draco immediately tipped his chin up, puffing out his chest with absolute, arrogant pride. But Richie's very next sentence instantly froze him dead in his tracks.
"I apologize, but honestly, I'm still not entirely sure... is your name Malfoy Draco, or Draco Malfoy?"