Chapter Ten: First Day: Ghosts, Clues, and Slytherin Blues

Just as I was drifting off, a strange noise yanked me back to consciousness. It sounded like someone was juggling chainsaws in the middle of the room. I sat up, rubbing my eyes, and saw a small figure floating near the ceiling.

"Well, if it isn't the new Slytherin princey!" the figure cackled. "Peeves is the name, causing trouble is the game!"

Great, a floating maniac. Just what I needed.

"Who are you?" I whispered, trying not to wake Blaise and Draco, though I doubted even an earthquake would disturb them.

"Peeves, the poltergeist!" he announced grandly, performing a somersault mid-air. "And I've got a message for you,Princey."

"A message?" I asked, more curious than concerned.

"An invitation, really," Peeves said, his eyes glinting mischievously. "From a friend. Follow me, if you dare!"

Against my better judgment, the curiosity of a ten-year-old got the better of me. I slipped out of bed and glanced at the other beds. They were empty, untouched, as if no one had ever slept in them. What kind of first day was this turning out to be?

Peeves led me through the dimly lit corridors, my heart pounding like a drum. Each turn felt like a step deeper into a labyrinth with no end. How many hidden passageways did this castle have? Just what kind of mess had I gotten myself into?

"Where are we going?" I whispered, trying to keep my voice steady.

"You'll see," Peeves replied with a cackle. "All in good time."

After some time we finally arrived at a corridor I'd never seen before. The walls were lined with paintings, but one stood out—a life-sized portrait of a white clown wearing a masquerade mask. The clown's eyes seemed to follow me as I approached.

"Arthur Belmont-Prince," the clown said, its voice soft and haunting. "I've been waiting for you."

"Oh, good, because I was starting to worry this night wasn't weird enough," I muttered.

"I am Pierrot," the clown continued, "and I challenge you to save someone who is trapped. Someone who doesn't know she needs saving."

Save someone? This was starting to feel like one of those twisted fairy tales my mother used to read to me. Only this time, I was the unwitting hero, and I didn't even know the damsel in distress.

"Who?" I asked, my curiosity piqued despite the nagging voice in my head screaming to turn back.

"The clues lie within the castle," Pierrot said cryptically. "Will you accept the challenge?"

"Why should I?" I asked, trying to sound braver than I felt.

"Because," Pierrot's smile widened, "this is a test of your cunning, bravery, and determination. Prove yourself worthy, and you will uncover secrets beyond your imagination. Besides, aren't you curious?"

"Curious?" I echoed. "More like terrified."

"The challenge will last the entire year," Pierrot continued, ignoring my comment. "Find the clues, solve the puzzles, and save the one who is trapped. Prove yourself, Arthur Belmont-Prince, and you will become a legend."

"Well, when you put it that way..." I said, feeling the thrill of the adventure outweighing my common sense.

"Why should I trust you?" I asked, narrowing my eyes.

"You shouldn't," Pierrot said with a sly smile. "But where's the fun in life without a little risk?"

Before I could respond or ask more questions, Peeves swooped down, grabbing me by the right foot. "Time to fly, Princey!"

"With a yelp, I was lifted off my feet as Peeves flew us through the castle at breakneck speed. I screamed for help, but my voice was lost in the rush of wind and the ghost's cackles. We looped through corridors, spiraled down staircases, and zipped past portraits that scowled and tutted at our antics.

"Put me down!" I yelled, but Peeves just cackled louder.

"Hold on tight, Princey! We're almost there!" he called out, doing another loop-de-loop just for fun. My stomach did a flip-flop that made me wish I hadn't eaten so much at the feast.

Finally, Peeves stopped mid-air, and I dangled helplessly from his grip. "Now, back to bed with you," he said, almost kindly.

With a flick, he dropped me back onto my bed. I landed with a thud, I looked around, half-expecting the beds to be empty again, but this time they were occupied. Draco and Blaise were sleeping soundly, oblivious to my nighttime adventure.

I lay back down, my heart still racing. Had it all been a dream? The sensation of flying with Peeves felt too real to dismiss. I stared at the canopy above, the words of Pierrot echoing in my mind.

This was just the beginning of the challenge. A test of cunning, bravery, and determination. And despite the weirdness of it all, I felt a spark of excitement.

With that, I closed my eyes, ready to face whatever Hogwarts had in store for me next.

The first thing you should know about being the son of the guy who stopped Voldemort is that people expect you to do amazing things every second of the day. The second thing is that they never tell you about the part where your dad dies doing it, and you're left to live up to a legend.I woke up to the buzzing excitement of my first full day at Hogwarts. The dormitory was a hive of activity, with my new housemates getting ready for breakfast and classes. Draco Malfoy, of course, was already impeccably dressed and looking like he owned the place.

"Get up, Prince," Draco's voice sliced through my half-awake daze.

"We've got Potions first thing, and you don't want to be late.

"Fabulous. Potions first thing in the morning. Exactly what every wizard-in-training dreams of.

I stumbled into my robes, the Slytherin crest feeling a bit heavier today, and shuffled out with Draco and Blaise to the Great Hall for breakfast. As we walked through the common room and up to the Great Hall was like walking through a gauntlet of whispers and stares. News had traveled fast. By the time I reached the Slytherin table, it felt like every eye in the room was on me.

"Is that him?"

"Arthur Belmont-Prince, the son of Severus Prince?"

"Did you hear? He was raised in secret!"

I tried to ignore the murmurs and focus on breakfast, but it was hard when people were gawking at me like I was some sort of rare magical creature. Across the room, I spotted Elias at the Gryffindor table, sitting next to a boy with red hair and another with round glasses, he gave me a supportive nod. He was my best friend, and having him here made everything feel a little less daunting.

Breakfast was a blur of food and chatter.

My mind kept drifting back to the challenge Pierrot had set for me. What kind of clues was I supposed to look for? And who was this person I needed to save?

"Earth to Arthur," Pansy said, waving a hand in front of my face.

"You're spacing out."

"Sorry," I said, shaking my head. "Just a lot on my mind."

"You'll get used to it," Blaise said, not looking up from his plate. "Hogwarts is full of surprises."

"Speaking of surprises," Draco said with a sly grin, "did you hear who's teaching Potions now? Professor Slughorn. Apparently, he's back after a long hiatus."

"Slughorn?" I asked. "Isn't he supposed to be some kind of Potions master?"

"That's right," Blaise said. "He's got quite the reputation."

"Hey, Prince," Pansy Parkinson called, sliding into the seat across from me.

"So, what's it like being the son of the man who defeated Voldemort?"I looked up from my toast. "You know, it's just your average day—dodging Dark Lords, saving the world. Real low-key."

A few chuckles around the table eased the tension, but I could still feel their eyes on me.

The walk to the dungeons where the Potions classroom was located, was filled with whispers and sideways glances. The Gryffindors seemed especially fascinated, like I had a giant, flashing sign above my head that said, "Future Exhibit at the Wizarding Zoo." Yep, just what I needed.

The dungeons stone walls were cool and damp, and the air smelled faintly of various magical ingredients. As we entered, I noticed the shelves lined with jars containing all sorts of creepy things—pickled toads, bat wings, and something that looked suspiciously like a human eyeball.

"Welcome to Potions," Professor Slughorn greeted us with a warm smile. He was a portly man with a walrus-like mustache and twinkling eyes. "Today, we'll be starting with a simple antidote. Pair up, gather your ingredients, and follow the instructions on the board."

I ended up paired with Elias, which was fine by me. Draco had already teamed up with Blaise, and they were chatting like old friends. As we gathered our ingredients, Blaise glanced at me.

"So, Arthur, what do you think of Hogwarts so far?"

"It's... a lot to take in," I admitted, carefully measuring out some powdered bicorn horn.

"You'll get used to it," Elias said, slicing up some root of asphodel. "Just keep your head down and stay out of trouble."

If only it were that simple. My mind kept drifting back to Pierrot's challenge, but I couldn't exactly tell anyone about it. They'd think I was crazy, or worse, they'd try to interfere.

We worked quietly, mixing ingredients and watching as our potion slowly changed color. Despite the distraction of my looming challenge, I found the process strangely calming. It reminded me of the stories I'd heard about my father—Severus Prince, the man who had killed Voldemort. I never met him, my Aunt Iris, made sure I knew everything about him. Aunt Iris had trained me herself, teaching me everything from brewing potions to defensive spells for the three months before school began. She always said I had my father's talent, but I knew she worried about the expectations placed on me.

"Not bad, Arthur," Slughorn said as he passed by our table, examining our potion. "A bit more wolfsbane, and it'll be perfect."

I nodded, adding a pinch more wolfsbane to the cauldron. The potion turned a perfect shade of emerald green. As the class ended and we cleaned up, I felt a small sense of accomplishment. Maybe today wouldn't be so bad after all.

Before I could leave, Professor Slughorn called me over. "Arthur, my boy, a word, if you please."

I approached his desk, feeling slightly apprehensive. "Yes, Professor?"

Slughorn beamed at me, his mustache twitching. "I must say, you've inherited your father's skill in potion-making. Severus was a master, truly, and I see you have the potential to follow in his footsteps."

"Thank you, sir," I replied, unsure how to respond to the praise.

"Tell me," Slughorn continued, leaning in conspiratorially, "how is dear Iris? we don't talk much these days

I remember her from our school days—quite the talented witch herself."

"She's well, sir. She taught me a lot before I came here," I said, feeling a surge of pride for my aunt.

"Excellent, excellent," Slughorn said, nodding approvingly. "You know, Arthur, talent like yours should be nurtured. I do hope you'll consider joining my little gatherings—The Slug Club. It's a place for promising students to mingle and learn from each other."

"I'll think about it, Professor," I said, trying to hide my surprise. The Slug Club was known for its exclusive nature, from what Iris told me

"Good, good," Slughorn said, patting my shoulder. "And one more thing, Arthur. As a Slytherin, you may find that other houses judge you based on that alone. But remember, true character is shown by the heart, not the house. Judge people by their actions and intentions, not just their affiliations. It's a lesson your father valued, and one I hope you will too."

"Thank you, Professor. I'll remember that," I said, feeling the weight of his words.

As I left the classroom, I couldn't help but feel a bit lighter. Maybe this challenge was just what I needed to step out of my father's shadow and make a name for myself.

After Potions, our next class was Defense Against the Dark Arts with Professor Quirrell. As we walked through the halls, I noticed a girl from Gryffindor struggling to carry a stack of books almost as tall as she was. On instinct, I hurried over to help her.

"Thanks," she said, giving me a grateful smile. "I'm Hermione, by the way."

"Arthur," I replied, stacking the books more securely in her arms. "Nice to meet you."

As I walked back to join Draco and Blaise, I noticed Hermione's friends, the boy with red hair and the one with round glasses, watching me with curiosity. Great, more attention. Just what I needed.

Defense Against the Dark Arts was more unnerving than I expected. Professor Quirrell stuttered through the lesson, but there was something about his eyes that made my skin crawl. He had us practice simple dueling spells, but I couldn't shake the feeling that he was watching me more closely than the others.

After class, Draco sidled up to me with a smirk. "Looks like Quirrell has taken a special interest in you, Arthur. Maybe he thinks you'll be as good as your father."

"Or maybe he's just impressed by your dueling skills," Pansy added with a sly grin.

"Thanks," I muttered, not entirely comfortable with the attention.

The Great Hall was buzzing with activity as students gathered for dinner.

The enchanted ceiling mirrored the dusky sky, casting a warm glow over the long tables laden with food.

I found a seat between Draco and Blaise, who were deep in conversation about the day's classes.

As I ate, I couldn't help but notice the way other students glanced our way, their whispers just loud enough to catch snippets of my name.

Across the hall, I spotted Hermione and Elias sitting with her friends. She caught my eye and gave a small wave, which I returned. At least not everyone was treating me like a museum exhibit.

"Arthur," Blaise said, interrupting my thoughts.

"What did you think of Defense Against the Dark Arts with Professor Quirrell?"

"It was... interesting," I replied, choosing my words carefully. "He seemed a bit nervous, but I guess that's just how he is."

"Yeah, the stutter is a bit much," Draco said. "But I heard he faced some pretty nasty curses while traveling. Maybe that's why he's like that."

"Could be," I said, not wanting to delve too deeply into speculation.

As dinner continued, the noise level grew with laughter and chatter filling the hall.

I felt a tap on my shoulder and turned to see Daphne looking at me with curiosity."So, Arthur," she began, "have you thought about joining any clubs or activities?"

"Not really," I said, trying to keep my voice casual. "I guess I'm still getting used to everything here."

"Well, don't wait too long," Daphne advised. "Opportunities at Hogwarts come and go quickly."

After dinner, we returned to the Slytherin common room, where the atmosphere was lively with students unwinding after the day's classes.

A piece of parchment fluttered down from the ceiling, landing at my feet. I picked it up and unfolded it. It was a clue, the first one from Pierrot.

"Seek the lady of wisdom, who roams the tower high, Her knowledge hidden in shadows, where only ravens fly. Ask the right question, and the truth she will unfold, But beware the price of secrets, for they are guarded by the bold."

I stared at the parchment, my mind racing. Lady of wisdom? Tower high? This challenge was already proving to be more complicated than I expected.

"What's that?" Draco asked, peering over my shoulder.

"Just a note from my mum," I lied smoothly, tucking the parchment into my pocket. "Nothing important."

"Better keep it to yourself," Blaise advised. "You never know who's watching."

I nodded, feeling the weight of the clue in my pocket. As we made our way back to the common room, I couldn't help but think about the challenge ahead. Who was this lady of wisdom? And what question did I need to ask?

The thought of navigating this alone was daunting, but the idea of proving myself, of stepping out from my father's shadow, fueled my determination. Aunt Iris always said that courage isn't the absence of fear but the ability to carry on despite it. This was my chance to show I had inherited more than just my father's name.

Finally, back in the dormitory, I lay back down, my heart still racing, the words of the clue echoing in my mind. This was just the beginning, and despite the weirdness of it all, I felt a spark of excitement.

As I closed my eyes, I couldn't help but chuckle at the thought. "First day at Hogwarts and I've already got a cryptic clue and a legendary quest to complete. No pressure or anything," I muttered to myself.

With that, I drifted off, ready to face whatever Hogwarts had in store for me next. After all, being the son of the man who defeated Voldemort meant I had some pretty big shoes to fill, and it was time I started filling them—one mysterious clue at a time.