EDIT: PART OF THIS CHAPTER HAS BEEN REWRITTEN. I WASN'T SATISFIED WITH A GOOD THIRD OF THE ORIGINAL SO I CUT THOSE PARTS OUT AND REWROTE THEM. I AM NOW SATISFIED WITH THE ADDITIONS TO THIS CHAPTER.
Sorry for not informing you all about the short hiatus—writer's block hit me like a truck and I needed to take a break from this for a while before I got completely burnt out. I hope to get some more chapters out soon since I'm taking part in Camp NaNoWriMo, but I am working on other projects during the month, as well. I've got some Marvel fics I've been working on in an attempt to keep my motivation up and I've also got an original book that I'm rewriting and hope to publish in the future.
This also feels like a filler chapter, so I apologize for that, as well. The next chapter should hopefully be much longer and should have more content and plot in it!
I would like to thank you all for the amazing reviews you've been leaving. I try to reply to them but a lot of you are guests, so I'm taking the time to thank you here. Thank you!
Harry was rather appreciative of the fact that castles—even magical castles—were generally impossible to keep completely warm. The cool air from the hallways leading down to the dungeons felt nice against his fevered skin. Something he hadn't anticipated about returning to Hogwarts was the anxious, panicky feeling of being surrounded by students. It had been a long while since he'd been crowded around so much, or with so much attention on him, and the panicked feeling he'd gotten during dinner had him uneasy. He'd had no problems navigating the crowds around Diagon Alley or Corkitt Market for at least a year, so he was rather surprised that being in the Great Hall and sitting at a crowded table had him squirming.
Perhaps it was all of the attention on him or the fact that he'd been pressed against at almost all sides that had him feeling claustrophobic. Harry had often eaten with a small group of people when he was in the Ministry, and he'd been alone in Grimmauld Place with only Kreacher as company, so it'd been a while since he'd eaten with such a large group. He hadn't expected that he'd need to get used to communal eating and living again.
Harry turned his eyes over to Theo and wondered if he was feeling the same emotions that he was. Theo preferred solitude and quiet, and like himself, only preferred crowds if they provided a way to go unnoticed. However, you never went completely unnoticed during Hogwarts dinners unless you ate in the kitchens, but even there the elves watched you, either shoving food down your throat or waiting to see if their service was satisfactory. The other boy—he'd had two months to get used to that—appeared as stoic as he usually did, though something told Harry that he might need some comfort. Perhaps it was Theo's magic Harry was sensing, though Harry had drawn in his magic to stop his senses from overloading.
Harry loosened the restraints on his magic and allowed it to creep towards his friend. Theo's magic, though tightly coiled within himself, was shifting nervously beneath his skin. It flinched away from the children around him, though as it sensed Harry's magic creeping out towards it, it didn't pull away. Theo allowed his magic to mingle with Harry's, and slowly but surely a nearly undetectable bit of tension faded from Theo's shoulders and his jaw unclenched.
Theo's eyes flickered for Harry's for a moment and his head tilted down a fraction, a nonverbal "thank you." Harry's magic curled further around Theo's and Theo's magic—cool and smooth and silky, the opposite of his blazing warmth that flickered like flames, smouldering at times but aggressive at blazing at others—mingle with his. The cool, silky feeling and the sensation of their magic mingling allowed any tension in his frame to fade away and slowly they pulled their magic back to themselves.
Throughout this whole interaction, they had made their way down into the dungeons. It had been a little under a decade since Harry had last seen this particular stretch of hallway—it was not far from the Great Hall nor the Potions classrooms, no doubt for Snape's easy access, but it was just out of the way that not many people other than Slytherins or Hufflepuffs, whose common rooms weren't far from here, went down here—but he still remembered it clearly.
The procession of students stopped when the prefects did, an unassuming girl with black hair and brown eyes and Terence Higgs who Harry knew currently played Seeker for the Slytherin Quidditch team and had gone on to become a fair but ruthless law wizard in the future. There were a few murmurings around the crowd on why they were standing in the middle of a hallway when Higgs stepped forward.
"This is the entrance to our common room," he said rather bluntly, gesturing to the wall. Harry glanced at it and noticed how there was a small snake carved into the wall, looking like nothing but a decoration, much like all of the other snake carvings littered around the dungeons. However, Harry knew that it was not a simple decoration and he allowed his magic to creep towards it; his magic acted similarly to a snake, twisting around peoples' magic in favour of touching the magic of the wall. Harry puffed a breath at the feel of the magic, so ancient and foreign and new and practically alive with a hissing feel that it took him a moment to recognize the bare bones of the spell that was used for passageways or door similar to this. The ancient, hissing undertone made him wonder if the magic had originally been cast with Parseltongue or if Parseltongue, a simple command of "Open," could make the door open. He would have to try that out later and so he reined his magic back in and focusses back on Higgs. He'd missed a bit of his speech, but Harry caught on to the fact that they would be punished if they revealed the location of the common room to someone who wasn't a Slytherin and even more so if they let a non-Slytherin into their depths. The dungeons were the Slytherins' safe space, no outsiders allowed.
That didn't surprise Harry much. He knew the reputation of Slytherins and he most importantly knew the reputation of the other Hogwarts Houses, particularly Gryffindor. They didn't take kindly to Slytherins and he'd witnessed plenty of hexing during his years as a Gryffindor. He'd always found a way to break up the fights, because he might've been blinded by prejudice in the beginning (and that was an embarrassment to admit) but he hated bullying even more. So that did not surprise him that the Slytherins would do everything to protect their safe spot.
Higgs opened the common room door with a clearly stated, "Serpens," so that everyone would hear.
Harry glanced around his new common room curiously. He'd been in here in his second year and had taken a cursory glance then, but he'd been so focused on figuring out who the Heir of Slytherin was and was too nervous with his undercover infiltration to truly take in the common room.
The first thing he noticed was the magic. It swamped him as soon as he crossed the boundary between the hall and the common room, no doubt due to some cloaking magic that he'd be checking out later, and everything seemed to go silent. His magic, blazing and flaring and flickering in his anxiety even with Theo's magic calming him, seemed to become burning embers. The abrupt calm feeling caused him to stagger slightly, noticeable enough that Theo glanced at him out of concern.
Harry just shook his head slightly, saying that he was fine, before he took a closer look at the magic surrounding the Slytherin common room. It was cool and calm and seemed to swirl around lazily like a tide, which made sense as Slytherin's element was water and they were currently under the lake. He hadn't anticipated that the common room would feel like this, so calm and like a fresh breath of air. Harry would have thought that the magic inside of the common room would have clashed with the dull roar of his own magic, but it dampened the oversensitivity he'd been feeling since he accidentally got overwhelmed by Hogwarts's ancient magic earlier and he let out a slightly awed breath at the relief.
Now that Harry actually took the time to look around the common room, he was surprised at how comforting it was (because it wasn't cozy, it was probably twice the size of the Gryffindor common room, probably because it was underground instead of in a tower), if done up in cool and dark tones.
The main colour of the room was obviously green, though golds and silvers and browns and blues were littered around as well. There were large arched Tudor windows on the far wall with a clear view of the underside of the lake that Harry knew green, filtered light would stream through in the day. Torches and hanging lanterns with bright orange flames flickered around the room and large tapestries of various landscapes and magical feats and colours hung on the walls. Lush rugs of green and blue covered the stone and dark-panelled flooring, as well, making the room seem more comforting since it wasn't just full of hard flooring.
There were tunnels leading to where Harry assumed the dorms to be and maybe some of the study rooms and small library that Theo had mentioned during some of their conversations.
Harry turned from his admiring of the room when one of the prefects, the unassuming girl, began to speak.
"I'm Gemma Farley and this is Terence Higgs, we're the fifth year Slytherin prefects," Farley introduced herself and Higgs. "Welcome to Slytherin. Firstly, you might've all heard rumours about Slytherin–namely that we're all into Dark Arts, are blood purists, and will only talk to you if your family is centuries old. Now I'm not saying that knowing Dark magic is bad, though you certainly should be careful with what spells you cast and who you discuss them with, and I'm not going to say that who your family is doesn't matter–because it certainly does—I'm just saying that Slytherin isn't nearly as bad as most witches and wizards make it out to be.
"Yes, we've produced our fair share of bad wizards, but so have the other three houses–they just don't like admitting it. And yes, we have traditionally tended to take students who come from long lines of witches and wizards–we certainly tend to favour those with connections, there is no better way to shape your future, after all–but many of our number have Muggle or Muggleborn relatives."
A few people around Harry murmured to themselves, some sounding surprised at that fact and others not so much. Harry wasn't particularly surprised at this fact, most of Wizarding Britain were half-bloods or newer purebloods (those who had recent Muggle or Muggleborn ancestors), though he was slightly surprised that Farley was outright saying this. Harry had a feeling that Farley was more progressive than the traditional families in Slytherin, she probably had a few Muggle or Muggleborn relatives herself, and he wondered if she was a part of the infamous "court" that he and Theo had discussed.
"The password to the common room changes every fortnight," said Higgs. "Keep an eye on the noticeboard. Never bring anyone from another house into our common room or tell them our password. No outsider has entered it for more than seven centuries."
Harry wondered if Higgs was just being dramatic—he suspected the answer was "yes" based on how Farley rolled her eyes—because it had been ridiculously easy to sneak into the Slytherin common room in his second year. He doubted that he and Ron had been the only outsiders to enter the Slytherin common room, though he supposed that it was a tightly guarded secret since the common room didn't appear to have any type of guardian. The Hufflepuff common room spat vinegar at those who didn't know the correct tap sequence, the Fat Lady guarded the Gryffindor common room, and while anyone could answer a riddle, Harry had a feeling that the Ravenclaw common room's entrance had some sort of way to detect who was a Ravenclaw and who was not.
"Now, as Slytherin works a little different than the rest of the school, we have some ground rules. First off, keep any fights you have in-House. Us Slytherins are biased against unfairly and we don't you all making us look bad. If you end up fighting someone from a different House, make sure there's no evidence and don't get caught. Other than that, I don't care if you try to kill each other, but please do your best to keep your little spats to yourself," continued Higgs dryly. "Us fifth years are busy with our OWLs and the seventh years don't need to be bothered while studying for their NEWTs, so if you're going to get anyone involved, talk to the fourth or sixth years."
None of this was particularly surprising, Gryffindor had had a similar dynamic. The older years weren't particularly keen on dealing with the younger years—not many teenagers liked hanging around kids, especially if they're having brat fights—so they typically left it amongst them to fight it out (shooting easily-reversed hexes and jinxes or coloured sparks at each other came to mind), or if it was serious, they got the prefects to deal with it. McGonagall was a last resort since she would've put everyone in detention, so she was rarely involved, not that Harry blamed anyone.
Voldemort had nothing on McGonagall's disappointed or furious stare.
"For you first years, curfew ends at ten. No one should be seen wandering the castle halls, you'll have plenty of time tomorrow or during the weekend to do that," Farley continued firmly—and Harry noticed how she said that they shouldn't be seen wandering the halls, not that they shouldn't do it—as she glanced at one of the clocks in the common room. "You all have an hour to pick your rooms and unpack, though you'll have plenty of time to do that later." She eyed them all in amusement and Harry knew that she expected not much to happen tonight. Almost everyone appeared dead on their feet, it had been a long day, and Harry himself felt exhausted. He'd known before going to bed last night that today would be a difficult day but he hadn't expected to feel this wrung-out—both physically and emotionally—so he was looking forward to falling face-first into the first bed he saw.
"Girls are in the corridor to the right while boys are to the left," Higgs said. "Boys follow me, girls follow Farley." Harry followed Higgs with the rest of the first year boys down the hall to the left of the common room while the girls went right. The hallway had smaller ones branching out and they were led to one in the very back that had three doors.
"Unlike the other Houses, there are only two to a room and these will be your rooms for the rest of your seven years in Hogwarts," said Higgs. "These rooms used to belong to last year's seventh years since we don't trade off every year, and while the rooms should have been cleaned, don't be alarmed if there are any posters up or anything. You're allowed to decorate your rooms however you like—meaning that you can cast privacy spells and the like—just make sure it's not permanent. You can leave everything up at the end of the year, too, which is a plus."
Harry's brows rose in surprise. In Gryffindor, they all had to share a room and they switched dorms every year. He already liked Slytherin—he'd miss the Gryffindor common room, of course, but the cool, ambient magic in the common room felt much more calming than the firey magic Gryffindor had—but the fact that he didn't have to share a room with five other people and the fact that he could decorate his room however he wished was definitely a plus.
As expected, Harry and Theo immediately paired up to share a room, leaving Blaise and Draco—this might be how the two became good friends, Harry thought—and then Crabbe and Goyle to share the two remaining rooms. Harry shot up a silencing spell and locked the door shut as soon as it shut behind him but he didn't really expect to have any important conversations with Theo tonight. He wasn't the only one who was feeling exhausted.
Theo lazily flicked his wand at his trunk—it had appeared after they closed their door—making all of his stuff fly out of it and onto the right bed. Harry took a moment to admire their dorm room, absentmindedly unpacking his own trunk with the spell Tonks had taught him once upon a time. It was rather large compared to the shared dorm room he'd had in Gryffindor, no doubt due to the fact that there were two full-sized canopy beds, and a desk, wardrobe, and bookcase for each of them. There were two large Tudor-style windows showing the underside of the lake—Harry couldn't wait to see what it looked like in the morning—and there was a door that appeared to be an en-suite bathroom. (Which was wicked, by the way, since all of the Gryffindor boys had to share a single bathroom every single year, meaning that they had no privacy and couldn't take long showers.)
Even as Theo began to sort through his school things by hand, Harry just piled all of his stuff on his desk, keeping his more questionable items (i.e. any semi-illegal book he'd bought in Knockturn or Carkitt Market) in his trunk. He used a spell he had learned from Mrs Weasley to levitate and sort all of his clothes into his wardrobe neatly but that was all he did. He was too tired to properly sort through all of his school stuff unlike Theo, so he just left it on his dark-wood desk. He did, however, grab the statue of Mischief and gently set her on his bedside table.
Theo glanced up from what he was doing as he neared him. His eyes fell on Mischief, curiosity lurking in their silver depths. "Are you going to activate her?" he asked.
Harry had written to Theo about Mischief because he had been interested in her. Unsurprisingly, he had been interested in the spells that Harry had used to make her come to life, and he had especially been curious about the broken, worn-down spell that Harry had modified. Theo, much like Harry, liked working with spells and magic, that much had been obvious from the spellwork he'd done on their shared journals. Harry had ended up sending him a copy of the notes he made while charming the statue and the two of them had a few conversations on how Mischief acted.
Theo was fascinated with how their magic was linked and how Mischief could easily follow whatever command Harry gave her, along with her kneazle-like intelligence. Speaking of kneazles, Obsidian's keen eyes were locked onto Mischief from where he sat lounged on Theo's pillow. He had appeared in their room with Theo's luggage.
"I don't want her to get confiscated," Harry said with a slight frown. He didn't want to admit it, but he already missed her presence. Mischief wasn't a real dog, he knew that, but she acted like a real dog. She had given him comfort when he woke up screaming in the middle of the night from nightmares or when he had gotten sudden panic attacks that had been triggered by something small like going under his bed to get to the loose floorboard there. Her large, warm body laid against him when he slept, providing him with the comfort that he'd never really had in his life. She had been a constant, soothing presence ever since he activated her, and while he would hate to keep her frozen, he would hate having her confiscated even more.
"We have silencing spells up, so no one's going to hear her if she barks, and you can freeze her when we're in classes," Theo suggested. After another moment of deliberation, Harry set Mischief on the ground and activated her by putting his hand on her head and saying "Malum" in Latin, which was Latin for "mischief." Mischief grew in the blink of an eye, turning from a grim-like statue into a large, curly-furred dog. She blinked gold intelligent eyes at Harry and grinned, her furry tail thumping against the ground.
Harry patted his leg and Mischief leapt at him, pressing her muzzle to his hand for pets. Harry grinned, the slight tight feeling in his chest easing at the feeling of her soft fur beneath his hand, and he scratched her behind the ear. Her eyes lulled shut at the feeling and Harry glanced up at Theo, who was staring at Mischief with large eyes.
"She looks just like a grim," he said in surprise, "and I didn't realize she was that big." Obsidian stared at Mischief curiously from his perch on Theo's pillow but didn't do anything else. He acted just like Mrs Figgs's half-kneazle did when they met Mischief, which Harry thought was curious. Did they sense the magic in Mischief? Did they know that she wasn't an actual dog just like how Crookshanks knew Sirius was an Animagus?
"She makes a brilliant guard dog," Harry said with a smirk, remembering how she protected him from the neighbourhood bullies and Vernon. He continued to run his fingers through Mischief's fur even as he selected a pair of pyjamas—otherwise known as one of Dudley's old t-shirts and a pair of sleeping trousers he bought in Muggle London—and grabbed his toiletry bag, simply enjoying the feel of having her around him. He could feel the magic flowing through her, a mixture of his and the older magic that had original crafted her.
When he went to the bathroom, Mischief jumped on his bed and curled up at the foot of it. Theo raised a brow at him but Harry shrugged, climbing in after her.
"We don't have anything else to talk about do we?" he asked after a yawn.
"Nothing that we can't talk about tomorrow," Theo said with a shrug, grabbing his own pyjamas and toiletries. "Goodnight, Harry."
"Night," said Harry. He drew his curtains around his bed and cast a silencing spell around them. He wasn't sure if he was going to have a nightmare tonight—though he expected it—so it was better to be safe than sorry. Mischief crawled up to lie against his chest and Harry ran his fingers through her fur sleepily as he listened to Theo do his nightly routine. The fire-glow against his curtains disappeared when Theo crawled into his own bed and murmured, "Nox," leaving them in darkness.
Harry fell asleep to the rising and falling of Mischief's shoulders, the sound of the lake water lapping against the windows, and the soothing magic of the Slytherin dorms coiling around him.