Discliamer: I own nothing.
"May I leave now, sir?"
Albus watched the boy; his eyes attempted to read whatever emotion lay on the surface. But none were displayed; he was stone-faced and stiff. His eyes never left the headmaster, and Albus felt a slight unease. Mr. Prince had been caught hiding within a classroom after curfew. Albus had taken him to his office, where he expected to gain the truth. But unlike most first-years, Mr. Prince kept himself composed and refused to reveal anything, even at the cost of 50 house points and a month's worth of detention.
Albus knew of Mr. Prince's background; he remembered the outrage at the boy's mother and the tabloid that soon followed. Albus suspected that living in the narrow streets of Knockturn Alley had made the boy tough; he acted more composed than many criminals. But that was not what unnerved Albus.
"You may, Mr. Prince," Albus finally answered.
Albus watched the boy rise and walk out of the room. Once Mr. Prince had left, Albus was able to relax and allow his thoughts to gather. The dull tone of Mr. Prince's voice rang in his ears; the calm composure with which he acted also flashed through the headmaster's mind. It brought Albus back to years long ago.
The boy, with his shadowed eyes and unnervingly quick mind, was proving to be a frustratingly familiar echo.
Tom Riddle had shared the same mannerisms, and while Albus was hard-pressed to believe that Mr. Prince would become like Tom, the thoughts still left him uneasy. He had shared some mannerisms with Tom, but the overall picture was different. He had no power to his name, he had no following, and Albus was sure that many in Slytherin considered him as nothing. But that did not stop the small piece of unease from wallowing in Albus's mind.
Rising from his chair, the headmaster made his way over to the cabinet filled with small vials of memories collected. Each memory contained a detailed piece of information—key moments that Albus wished to store away for later use. Albus opened the cabinet and quickly plucked out the vial that held the memory of Tom, his pale eyes examining it before placing it back.
He shared similar traits in character and even background as Tom; while this unnerved the headmaster, it intrested him. For years, Albus had attempted to reach out to Slytherin House, hoping to sway them to his cause, so when the time came, he would be more solid on the ground than Tom. But try as he might, the headmaster could not appeal to the House of Snakes.
"I may have need for the boy," Albus muttered to himself.
He knew the dangers; if he did not play this right, he would only end up creating another Voldemort. But the war that sat on the horizon edged closer; soon the fighting would begin. Albus slowly made his way back to his seat; he affirmed that he would keep an eye on him in hopes of swaying him, but if he failed, then he would no doubt create something far worse.
"For the greater good," Albus muttered softly. A mantra that he had clung onto in these dark times.
"There's no way the headmaster caught you," Marcus said as the boys made their way down to the great hall for breakfast. The events of the night before had been a grande talking point among the house of snakes; the prefect had spoken to Rosier's gang in an attempt to get a better idea of what happened. The boys had kept their mouths shut, but the blame still fell upon Severus. The loss of fifty house points painted a clear target on his back.
"He was there," Severus reaffirmed as the trio walked into the hall and towards their house table. Severus took a seat on the far end, away from most of the other Slytherins. Thomas sat to his right while Marcus was on the left; the latter had already begun to fill up his plate with everything in sight.
"But what was the headmaster doing out of his office?" Thomas questioned as he slowly filled up his plate and began to eat.
"Night walk?" Marcus said between bites, and Severus rolled his eyes.
"I doubt that the headmaster was taking a night walk," Severus argued as he slowly munched on a piece of toast. Thoughts about why the headmaster was walking through the corridors had crossed his mind. It could have been pure coincidence, but the manner of the occurrence suggested otherwise.
"You never know," Thomas said. "Maybe he has a track on us."
"But he only caught me," Severus pointed out.
"You were simply the nearest to him at the time," Thomas suggested with a shrug.
Severus considered Thomas's point to be logical; if the headmaster had placed a tracker on all students, then he would be able to locate Severus easily, but he would be unable to appear in two places at once. Whatever the matter, Severus was sure he got off lightly. His eyes fell on the rest of Slytherin House; their glares made Severus second-guess his thoughts for a split second, but he simply pushed the thoughts out of his mind.
"What lesson do we have first?" Severus asked as he turned back to the other boys.
"Charms," Thomas answered.
"Sounds lame," Marcus added as he finished his food.
Severus shrugged as he finìshed the last of his breakfast quickly and joined his friends in their walk out. Severus's eyes glided through the hall as they walked before coming to a stop at emerald eyes. Among the cluster of Gryffindors sat the odd red-haired girl; she was surrounded by other girls, all talking about something that didn't interest her. Instead, her attention was on Severus, and for a second, he swore that she gave him a shy smile, but he pushed away from the thought as he turned away and followed his friends out.
Charms had been a dull lesson for the Slytherin trio. They had sat far from the rest of their house to avoid any confrontation, though that did not stop the hisses of insults and death glares. Once the lesson was finished, the boys darted out of the class; the next lesson flew by as fast as the first, and the trio soon found themselves in the library, regardless of Marcus's complaints. Severus pulled out the small notebook that his mother had passed down to him. He was busy flipping through pages of potion modifications and spell ideas when he noticed a small cluster of Gryffindors. Severus noted Sirius Black and James Potter, his dark eyes watching the two boys as they led two other boys through the rows. Severus took the moment to assess the boys before slowly rising from his seat and marching over to the group, leaving a confused Thomas and Marcus behind.
"Enjoying Gryffindor, Black," Severus snapped as he approached. The tone of Severus's voice caused the two boys to react with hostility; wands were soon whipped out and eyes narrowed.
"What do you want, snake?" Black barked back, and Severus smiled.
"Just wanted to show you this neat trick," Severus retorted as he pointed his own wand at the shelf behind the boys and muttered, "Wingardium Leviosa."
Several large books shuffled off the shelf and slowly began to rise through the air before stopping above the heads of Black and Potter. Severus flicked his wrist and allowed the wonders of gravity to do the rest. The thud, as well as the cries of pain, had caused attention; Severus didn't wait around to taunt the boys anymore and quickly made his way back to his desk. Sitting down, he was congratulated by Marcus on the display, and Thomas added that it was a great demonstration of charms, but the best was saved for when Madam Pince caught the group of Gryffindors. There was something warming about seeing pure-bloods, the highest folk of wizarding society, being brought down a peg or two.
"You planning on being on the bad side with everyone?" Marcus asked with a chuckle.
"I did make a promise to my mother to stay out of trouble, but then again, I was crossing my fingers," Severus answered with a grin.
"You should be more careful; too many people will be after you at this rate," Thomas scolded, though the smile on his face obviously displayed his enjoyment.
"I'm the black sheep regardless of any other factors," Severus said, shrugging. "I don't really want to be Mr. Popular."
Severus was content with what he had; Thomas and Marcus had been the first friends he had made at his age. His childhood had felt lonely, and living with shady individuals had also caused him to develop issues with those around him. But since he had arrived at Hogwarts, he began to feel more like a child. He was allowed to interact with others outside of business, and a part of Severus was happy with that.
"Hey, let's head out," Marcus said as he slammed the textbook shut. "This stuff is giving me a headache."
"Still a lot of the castle to explore," Thomas muttered as he placed his books away.
"Yeah," Severus said, stuffing his book back into his bag and grinning. "I heard word of some secret rooms in the school."
Lucius Malfoy was not pleased; he was as far from pleased as one could get at this point. Not only had fifty points been taken from his house, but he had been reprimanded by Slughorn over the act of filthy first years. The fat slob had the nerve to declare that Lucius was careless and was giving Slytherin a bad reputation, just as much as the first years. The fifth-year peered at the crackling fire within the Slytherin common room, his eyes watching the flames dance as his brow furrowed at the thoughts bouncing within his head. Lucius had attempted to speak to Rosier, but the foolish boy allowed his pride to get in the way and would not name those responsible. Not that Lucius didn't already put two and two together like many others in Slytherin.
Lucius could vaguely remember when he first saw Severus Prince. His father had taken him shopping for supplies and had chosen to go to Knockturn Alley to gather some key ingredients for his potion collection. The shop that the filthy half-blood bastard owned was tiny, and the display within the shop was even worse. Nothing within the shop indicated that it was owned by one of the noble Italian pure-blood families, a family that had resided in Britain since the time of Caesar but one that held onto its Italian and pure-blood heritage. A family destroyed when filth had been born.
Lucius had seen the filthy little boy sitting behind the counter. The boy was scruffy, with horrid hair and oversized clothes. Nothing had changed over the years, Lucius sneered before rising from his seat. Prefects were expected to patrol the corridors, and a quick check on the time indicated that curfew was only a few minutes away. But as Lucius left the common room, he was met with the scruffy hair of the boy he hated, along with his companions. It seemed that filth had a tendency to stick together.
"Prince, I hope you are planning on going to your detentions this weekend," Lucius sneered. The only enjoyment left was the fact that Prince had been given detentions for the term and would be unable to cause any more trouble until after the Christmas holidays.
"Sod off, Malfoy," the boy grunted as he pushed past Lucius, his companions snickering behind him.
"I will not have you stain the great image of Slytherin with your attitude," Lucius snapped as his long arms caught the boy and tossed him to the ground. Heads turned, and soon a small crowd formed.
"The image of Slytherin?" Severus muttered as he got back onto his feet. "The image of a long-dead man whose words you cling to because you have no personality."
"Watch your tongue, Prince, or—"
"Or what?" Severus cut in with a smirk. "You'll take house points?"
Lucius could not take it; how dare this piece of filth speak to him like this, and how dare he think he could get away with it? The first spell launched the boy into the air before tossing him down; the second pinned him to the ground and allowed Lucius to get close without being attacked. Lucius felt the anger within come forth as he landed a punch into the boy's face; it felt wonderful, and Lucius let out a little chuckle.
"Any wise words, Mr. Prince?" Lucius mocked.
To Lucius's horror, the boy gave a small smile before launching spit into Lucius's face. The shock caused the older boy to scramble back. Lucius wiped his face and heard chuckles from behind him. This was not going as originally planned; Lucius was supposed to take the runt down a peg, but instead, he had given him an audience.
"You hit like a girl," Severus muttered as he rose, the spell finally coming undone. "But then again, I didn't expect anything from you, Malfoy."
Lucius glared at the boy before dashing out of the common room. He had never been enraged by a single person as much as he was now. Prince had the nerve to act as if he were better than others, as if he were beyond Lucius's grasp, but in reality, the boy was filth. However, something deep within Lucius shifted—a sense of dread for the future of Slytherin House. Lucius would not be here for long, and if Prince was allowed to run wild, it would spell disaster for his beloved house; he could not have that. Lucius reminded himself to speak with third-year William Wilkes; he had to ensure those good pureblood lads were in power. Rosier would also be a good individual to speak to.
"For Slytherin," Lucius said as he paced down the dark corridor. "For the greater good,"