Chapter 7: The Beginning of a New Era

The Hogwarts Express chugged steadily along the tracks, the rhythmic clattering of the wheels providing a steady backdrop to the conversations taking place within its compartments. Alaric sat with his new companions—Draco, Blaise, Theodore, Daphne, and Tracey—discussing their expectations for the coming school year.

The compartment was filled with an air of confidence, and for good reason. Each of them came from old, noble families with deep roots in the wizarding world. Their conversation shifted seamlessly between topics, from the history of Hogwarts to the intricacies of pureblood politics, and it became clear to Alaric that these were not just students—they were the heirs to the future of the wizarding world.

The discussion was engaging, but Alaric couldn't help but feel a sense of detachment, as if he were observing the conversation from a distance. He had spent his life preparing for this, learning the intricacies of magic and the subtle art of power. Now, sitting among these young heirs, he realized that his knowledge surpassed even theirs. He was not just another pureblood; he was the last of the Peverell and Le Fay lines, a legacy that carried both immense power and tremendous responsibility.

At some point during their discussion, the door to the compartment slid open again. Pansy Parkinson, a girl with sharp features and a haughty expression, stepped inside. Her eyes swept over the group before settling on Draco.

"Draco," she said, her voice carrying the familiar tone of someone used to getting what they wanted. "Mind if I join you?"

Draco gave her a cursory glance and nodded toward an empty seat. "Go ahead."

Pansy took her seat, her eyes flicking briefly to Alaric before returning to Draco. "What were you all discussing?"

"The future," Blaise said with a faint smile, his tone laced with a touch of irony. "Specifically, ours."

Pansy raised an eyebrow, her gaze lingering on Alaric once more. "And what role does our newest member play in that future?"

Alaric met her gaze with calm assurance. "I intend to take my place among those who shape it," he said simply.

There was a brief silence, during which Pansy assessed him with an appraising look. Finally, she nodded, a hint of approval in her eyes. "Good. We need more people who understand the importance of power."

The conversation resumed, but this time with a new dynamic. Pansy's presence added a layer of complexity, and Alaric quickly realized that she was as cunning as the others, though perhaps more overt in her ambitions. She made no attempt to hide her disdain for those she deemed unworthy, a trait that Alaric found both amusing and potentially useful.

As the afternoon wore on, the train continued its journey toward Hogwarts. The landscape outside the window shifted from bustling towns to rolling countryside, the scenery growing wilder and more untamed as they drew closer to their destination. Inside the compartment, the conversation turned to the upcoming Sorting Ceremony and the inevitable competition between the houses.

"There's no doubt we'll all be sorted into Slytherin," Draco said confidently, glancing around the compartment. "After all, that's where we belong."

The others nodded in agreement, but Alaric noticed a subtle tension in the air. The Sorting was a deeply personal experience, one that could shape the course of their lives. While they were all confident in their heritage and abilities, the uncertainty of the future lingered just beneath the surface.

Alaric leaned back in his seat, his mind already considering the possibilities. Slytherin was the obvious choice for him, the house that valued ambition, cunning, and resourcefulness. But he also knew that his presence there would draw attention—both from those who sought to ally themselves with him and from those who would see him as a threat.

As the sun began to set, casting long shadows across the countryside, the conversation gradually died down, each of them lost in their own thoughts. Alaric could feel the anticipation building, the sense that they were on the brink of something momentous.

And in a way, they were.