Chapter 8

Finally finishing his side project, Thaddeus leaned back and surveyed his notes with a hint of pride. Each line was meticulously crafted, a testament to his focus and determination. But as his satisfaction settled, a nagging thought crept in. Casting Tempus with a flick of his wand, the glowing numbers materialized before him.

"Bloody hell," he muttered, eyes widening. "Only twenty minutes left."

Scrambling to gather his things, he cursed under his breath. "First day, and I'm already cutting it close. Why do I always get so engrossed in my work? Every single time."

His strides were swift as he made his way to the Great Hall, his mind still lingering on the notes he'd left behind. When he entered, the buzz of chatter and clinking silverware greeted him, but his focus immediately landed on a familiar face. Elysia, seated at the Slytherin table, met his gaze with a triumphant smirk.

She waited until he was within earshot before calling out, her tone light and teasing. "Oh, look who finally decided to grace us with his presence."

Thaddeus sighed, sliding into the seat beside her. "You could've told me you were heading to breakfast."

"Yes, I could have," she replied with an infuriatingly casual shrug. Then, leaning closer, she added in a conspiratorial whisper, "But where's the fun in that?"

Thaddeus gave her an insincere laugh, the corners of his mouth lifting briefly before falling flat. He was too preoccupied with the time—and the growing realization that he might've left an ink smudge on his notes—to muster a proper retort. Deciding to let her comment slide, he turned his attention to the food in front of him, piling his plate with eggs and toast.

Elysia watched him for a moment, her amusement evident in the sparkle of her green eyes. "You really need to lighten up, Thad," she said, taking a sip of her pumpkin juice. "You're going to give yourself gray hair before you turn thirty."

He shot her a sidelong glance, his expression somewhere between exasperation and begrudging fondness. "And you could stand to take something seriously for once."

Elysia laughed, the sound soft and melodic. "Oh, I do. I just know how to balance it with a bit of fun. You should try it sometime."

Thaddeus didn't respond, but a ghost of a smile tugged at his lips as he tore into a piece of toast. For all her mischief, Elysia had a way of making his mornings a little less unbearable—even if she was insufferable while doing it.

As he settled into his meal, his gaze swept across the table. Familiar faces mingled with unfamiliar ones, the group forming an intricate web of alliances and social hierarchies. To his mild surprise, Bellatrix Black had chosen to sit beside her sister Andromeda, her posture radiating casual authority. Her followers, as if tethered by invisible strings, were close by, their places marked as if predetermined by some unspoken rule.

Thaddeus recognized several faces among them: the Lestrange brothers, Rodolphus and Rabastan, with their distinctive sharp features and watchful gazes; Augustus Rookwood, who carried himself with a quiet confidence; Marcus Belby, sitting slightly apart with a distracted air; and Nott, who exuded a quiet cunning. Further down, two young blond heads caught his attention—Lucius Malfoy and Narcissa Black, the latter quietly observing the room with an air of detached elegance. Completing the scene were Elysia's other usual companions, the Weiss twins, and Evan Rosier, whose easy charm seemed to permeate the group's dynamic.

Despite all his preparation, some faces still eluded him, unfamiliar in both name and demeanor. Taking note of the gaps in his knowledge, Thaddeus filed their descriptions away for future investigation. The Slytherin table was not a place for unawareness; every face, every conversation, every glance could hold meaning.

Beside him, Elysia was cheerfully chatting with Rabastan Lestrange, her demeanor effortlessly engaging. Thaddeus watched her for a moment, admiring how she navigated the dynamics of the group with such ease. She had a knack for drawing people in, her theatrical flair matched by an underlying shrewdness. For his part, he focused on his plate, deciding that a full belly would serve him better than morning small talk.

Ten minutes before the start of classes, a ripple of movement swept through the hall as prefects made their rounds, distributing timetables. A faint sigh beside him caught his attention. He turned his head, his gaze meeting Elysia's, who was staring at her schedule with a look of utter disdain.

She caught his questioning look and, with a subtle motion, gestured for his timetable. He raised an eyebrow but gave a small nod of permission. No sooner had he done so than her hand darted out, snatching his schedule with practiced precision.

"Lucky you," she muttered, her tone both envious and teasing. "You start with Charms and Transfiguration."

Thaddeus frowned slightly as he chewed a mouthful of toast. "And why's that so great?" he asked, his voice low enough to keep their conversation private.

Elysia rolled her eyes, the exasperation on her face almost comically exaggerated. "Because," she said, drawing out the word for emphasis, "they're the best classes to start with. Charms is lively and engaging, and Transfiguration actually requires you to think. Meanwhile, I'm stuck with Binns for History of Magic." She gave an exaggerated shudder, her theatrical disdain drawing a small smirk from Thaddeus.

"And after that?" he prompted, sensing she wasn't finished.

Elysia sighed dramatically, holding up her timetable as if it were a death sentence. "After Binns, I get to enjoy the delights of a theoretical Potions lecture with Slughorn. I'll be scribbling notes until my hand falls off. Honestly, could this day start any worse?"

Thaddeus chuckled softly, the sound low and brief. "I'm sure you'll survive."

"Oh, I will," she said with a wink. "But just you wait—I'll make you pay for having a better schedule than me."

He shook his head, amused by her dramatics. "I'm sure you will."

Elysia returned his timetable, leaning back with a huff of mock indignation before breaking into a grin. "Just don't let it get to your head, Thad. One good day doesn't mean you're off the hook."

Thaddeus didn't respond, instead returning his attention to the last few bites of his breakfast.