My Dark Lord

Chapter Five: Smoke, Shadows, and Rivalry

The dungeons welcomed us like an old secret. The moment I stepped through the hidden entrance-- "Selkie," the prefect whispered-- I felt at home.

The Slytherin Common Room breathed with power. Stone walls veined with damp moss, the black lake pressing in on green-glass windows, casting shifting shadows across cold stone floors. The fireplace crackled low, filling the room with flickering emerald light. It was elegant in a brutal, understated way-- like a dagger made of jade.

I walked slowly across the space, cataloguing it.

Malfoy had claimed one corner already-- surrounded by Avery and Lestrange, lounging like he thought himself a prince. I made eye contact as I passed. He smiled-- predatory, performative-- and patted the seat beside him. 

I didn't slow down.

Eileen walked just behind me, her silence as steadying as always. A few other girls trailed us, uncertain of who to follow yet. That wouldn't last long.

The prefect, a boy named Rosier with sharp cheekbones and sharper eyes, led us down a narrow hallway.

"Girls' dormitory. Left side. Fiver per room, each with your own wardrobe and desk. Don't hex each other unless it's absolutely necessary."

He winked as he turned away.

I stepped into my new room. Five beds, deep green curtains, thick stone walls, and a single high window with a view of murky water. A pale jellyfish drifted by, illuminating the ceiling with a ripple of soft blue light.

My bed was the one closest to the window. I claimed it without asking. My trunk slid into place with a whisper of magic. My wand I laid neatly on my pillow.

I turned to assess the others.

Eileen Prince, of course-- quiet and observant. She'd already begun sorting her books alphabetically. Efficient, but not a threat.

Calliope Travers was the first new girl to speak. Freckled and sly, with a mass of red curls tied back in a green ribbon. She had sharp eyes and a voice too loud for my taste.

"That was some entrance, Grindelwald," she said, flopping onto her bed. "Didn't even flinch when Slughorn practically sang your name."

"Why would I?" I said, unlacing my boots. "He's just another mollects things that shine."

Noted: attention-seeker. Useful, but not trustworthy.

The other two girls were more interesting.

Mara Selwyn was raven-haired, elegant, and already halfway through a book titled Practical Hexes for Subtle Sabotage. I liked her instantly. When our eyes met, she inclined her head slightly.

Dahlia Mulciber, on the other hand, was a pure-blood from a minor house, round-faced with a constantly calculating expression. She wasn't loud, but she was watching everyone. Especially me. 

I returned the favour.

The room buzzed with low conversation, but I stayed quiet, letting the others speak. People reveal more when you say nothing.

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The next morning, we shared Potions with the Ravenclaws-- an unfortunate pairing. I disliked their smugness. Intelligence is admirable; smugness is a symptom of insecurity. 

The classroom smelled of ash bark, vinegar, and secrets. Professor Slughorn was all charm and belly-laughs, but I knew a collector when I saw one. The twinkle in his eye was not softness-- it was greed disguised as generosity.