Even a desert of bland food has its oases; the dinner at Hogwarts was satisfying.
Slytherin's seventh-year prefect, Lucretius Burke, stood up and tapped his goblet lightly with a silver spoon.
"Slytherin first-years, follow me."
Regulus and eleven other first-years left the long table, following him through a side door of the Great Hall and down a long, spiraling stone staircase.
The further down they went, the cooler the air became. The walls turned into smooth black marble, and torches burned with eerie emerald-green flames.
Finally, they stopped in front of a bare stone wall adorned only with a roughly carved stone snake.
The prefect turned to face the new students.
"I am Lucretius Burke, seventh-year prefect." His gaze swept over every face, lingering on Regulus for a moment longer.
"Welcome to Slytherin. Before we enter, let's clarify a few points."
"First, Slytherin values bloodline, ambition, and cunning. None of the three can be missing."
"Second, here, loyalty is paramount. Loyalty to your own kind. Your roommates and classmates will be your most reliable allies in the future, or your most dangerous enemies."
"Third, Slytherin does not welcome weakness. Crying and tattling will only make you a laughingstock."
His gaze swept over Regulus once again.
"Finally, remember, the accident involving the Black family last year brought shame to Slytherin. I hope that this year, someone can redeem that reputation."
This was almost an explicit hint. Several new students stole glances at Regulus.
Regulus kept a calm expression and remained silent. He knew there would definitely be a show tonight.
The prefect turned to the stone wall and said clearly, "Glory."
The stone snake's eyes glowed red, and the wall slid open silently.
The Slytherin Common Room.
The room was rectangular, with silver and green hangings suspended from the ceiling. One wall was made of completely transparent magical glass, revealing the view from the bottom of the Black Lake.
A giant squid swam slowly past. Glowing jellyfish floated like ghosts. The fire in the fireplace was emerald green and burned without sound.
The furniture was dark wood with silver accents, upholstered in dark green velvet. Portraits of famous Slytherins through the ages hung on the walls, looking down at the new students with stern gazes.
There were already quite a few older students in the room. When the first-years walked in, all eyes turned toward them, curious, indifferent, mocking.
Lucretius walked to the fireplace. "Free time. The dormitory assignments for first-years are on the wall over there."
The new students flocked to the parchment on the wall. Regulus wasn't in a hurry; he stood where he was, looking around the common room.
Then he heard someone speaking his name. Not calling him, but talking about him.
The voice came from the sofa area on the right, where several fifth-year boys were sitting. The speaker was a boy with black hair and a hooked nose, wearing a mocking smile.
"Another Black. Why didn't he go to the lion's den with the other one?"
Several people around him laughed together, their tone unfriendly.
The common room quieted down. The older students stopped talking, and the younger ones held their breath. No one intervened; everyone was waiting to see how this new Black would react.
Regulus turned slowly to face the speaker.
"Are you talking about me?" His voice was calm, his tone not loud.
The hook-nosed boy raised an eyebrow. "If you are Regulus Black, then I am talking about you."
"I am. So, do you have business with me?" Regulus knew someone would jump out; he was hoping for it.
The boy stood up. He was a head taller than Regulus. The cuffs of his robes had exquisite silver embroidery, the crest of the Travers family.
"I was just curious," he walked closer slowly. "Is this generation of the Black family all so opinionated? Your brother chose Gryffindor. What about you?
"How long do you plan to stay in Slytherin? One term? Or until you find more interesting friends?"
His followers laughed again, gradually surrounding Regulus.
Regulus's grey eyes watched him without a ripple.
"Mr. Travers," he called out the other's surname. "If I remember correctly, the Travers family intermarried with Muggle merchants in the eighteenth century to save their family business from bankruptcy.
"That incident is recorded in detail in Chapter 7, Section 3 of The Secret History of Pure-Blood Families. Do you need me to remind you of the specific paragraph?"
Your pride has a stain.
The boy's face flushed red instantly.
The whispers around them grew louder. Several older students exchanged glances.
"What nonsense are you talking about!" His voice rose sharply.
"The Secret History of Pure-Blood Families, author Broderick Bode, cites commercial contracts and marriage records from that time," Regulus's voice remained calm. "Do you need me to recite it?"
The boy opened his mouth but made no sound. His fists clenched, knuckles turning white.
Regulus looked at him and continued, "Of course, that is in the past. What matters is the present. You mentioned 'opinionated' just now.
"I don't consider having opinions a flaw. In fact, blindly following is what's pathetic."
His gaze swept across the entire common room. Several of the followers averted their eyes.
"Slytherin values wisdom. Wisdom means independent thinking, knowing what is worth pursuing and what is not worth mentioning.
"My brother chose his path, and I chose mine. That is having an opinion. And you-"
Regulus looked at the boy, his gaze calm yet containing hidden pressure.
"You chose to use low-level provocation to prove your existence on the very first night of the new term. Is that your opinion?"
Everyone's gaze shifted from Regulus to Travers.
The boy's face went from red to white, then to green. His hand jerked toward the inside pocket of his robes, about to draw his wand.
But Regulus was faster. His wand slid into his hand instantly, tapping lightly in the air.
The air in front of the boy suddenly distorted. An invisible barrier formed instantly. The moment he drew his wand, it was as if it hit a glass wall. With a soft ding, it spun out of his hand and flew toward the ceiling-
Then it was fixed in mid-air, motionless.
Precision interception.
With a slight flick of Regulus's wrist, the other's wand began to descend slowly. As if supported by an invisible hand, it fell steadily and evenly back to the boy's feet, tip down, standing lightly on the carpet.
The entire process was quiet and elegant, devoid of anger.
"If you really want a contest," Regulus put away his wand, "I suggest you at least learn to hold your wand tight first."
Just as a few lower-year students were about to exclaim in surprise, Regulus took a step forward. The followers looked at each other and silently moved aside.
An older girl was about to speak, but another girl stopped her, shaking her head.
"Now," Regulus's voice was the only sound in the common room. "Pick it up."
His voice was still not loud, but everyone heard it clearly.
Some looked at Lucretius, but he made no move.
Travers's face was red enough to explode, his hair standing on end. His body trembled, his eyes looking ready to devour someone.
Regulus's gaze was calm, while the others wore expressions of mixed emotions.
A first-year student making a fifth-year unable to even draw his wand, everyone understood the implications of this.
Powerful. Not to be messed with.
Vicious.
The insult in this act was too intense.
In an instant, everyone's impression of Regulus shifted from "the family with a traitor" to this.
Regulus didn't actually need a wand to do this, but he had promised Orion not to appear abnormal at school.
So he used a wand.
Travers's chest heaved violently. Just when some thought he would choose to fight back, in the next moment, he bent down abruptly to pick up his wand, lowered his head, charged through the crowd, and disappeared around the corner to the dormitory entrance.
His followers also vanished one by one, without even a harsh word.
Regulus turned and walked toward the dormitory assignment list on the wall. The new students parted to make a path.
This didn't even count as a confrontation; it was just bullying a child. Regulus felt rather bored.
This person was not only weak but also stupid. He knew this was a deliberate setup, but he didn't mind; he welcomed it.
The entire common room remained quiet until he walked to the wall. Only then did whispers restart, but the voices were mostly low gasps of shock.
Several older students exchanged glances.
A seventh-year girl with long dark brown hair, wearing a Rosier family brooch, whispered to her companion, "He is interesting."
Another boy from the Nott family nodded, his gaze lingering on Regulus for a long time.
An arrogant-looking older boy asked, "Did you understand what happened?"
Another girl with an elegant demeanor nodded silently.
The lower years were completely stunned. A first-year girl grabbed her companion's arm, her tone excited, "Just now... was that a silent spell? A first year?"
The round-faced boy next to her swallowed, slightly hesitant. "Y... yeah?"
Regulus ignored them. He found his name on the list.
First-Year Dormitory A:
Regulus Black
Cuthbert Avery
Hermes Mulciber
Alex Rosier