Chapter 10: Into the Serpent’s Den

The Great Hall slowly emptied as the students finished their feast and began to follow their respective prefects to their house common rooms. The air was thick with excitement, the newly sorted first-years chattering amongst themselves, eager to explore the castle that would be their home for the next seven years.

Alaric Peverell lingered for a moment, his gaze sweeping over the ancient hall. The enchanted ceiling, still displaying the night sky, seemed to pulse with a faint, magical energy. The long tables were now filled with satisfied students, their faces flushed with the warmth of the hearty meal and the thrill of new beginnings.

"First-year Slytherins, this way!" called a fifth-year prefect with an authoritative voice. She was a tall girl with sleek, black hair and a proud bearing that immediately commanded attention. Alaric recognized her as Ophelia Selwyn, a member of one of the older pureblood families. She held herself with the poise and confidence of someone who knew exactly where she stood in the world, and Alaric couldn't help but respect that.

Draco, Blaise, Theodore, Daphne, Tracey, Pansy, and the rest of the newly sorted Slytherins gathered around Ophelia, who wasted no time in leading them out of the Great Hall. As they walked, she began to speak, her voice carrying easily over the low murmur of the other students.

"Welcome to Slytherin," Ophelia said, glancing back at the group with a slight smile. "You've all been sorted into the most prestigious house at Hogwarts. Slytherin has produced some of the greatest witches and wizards in history, and it's up to you to uphold that legacy."

Alaric listened intently, noting the way Ophelia's words were carefully chosen to instill both pride and responsibility. This was a house that valued tradition and power, and she was making it clear that they were expected to contribute to its continued dominance.

As they made their way through the castle, descending deeper into the dungeons, the atmosphere grew cooler and more somber. The flickering torches cast long shadows on the stone walls, and the sound of their footsteps echoed eerily in the narrow corridors. Alaric noticed that the older Slytherins they passed gave them appraising looks, some nodding in acknowledgment, others simply observing with cold detachment.

Finally, they arrived at a blank stone wall at the end of a dark corridor. Ophelia turned to face the group, her expression serious.

"This is the entrance to the Slytherin common room," she explained. "The password changes every month, so be sure to memorize it. If you forget, you'll have to find someone who knows it to let you in—no exceptions."

She paused for effect, letting the importance of her words sink in. "The current password is 'Pureblood.'"

With that, she stepped forward and spoke the password clearly. The stone wall shifted and slid aside, revealing the entrance to the common room. The first-years followed her inside, their eyes widening as they took in their new surroundings.

The Slytherin common room was an impressive sight. The room was large and circular, with low, green-lit lamps casting an eerie glow over the dark wood furniture and rich green and silver décor. The walls were adorned with tapestries depicting scenes from Slytherin's history, and the ceiling was enchanted to resemble the surface of the lake above, the water shimmering faintly as the occasional shadow of a giant squid passed overhead.

In the center of the room was a large, ornate fireplace, its mantel carved with serpentine designs. The fire crackled softly, casting flickering shadows that danced across the stone floor. Several plush, dark green sofas and armchairs were arranged around the fireplace, inviting students to sit and relax.

Ophelia allowed them a moment to take in the grandeur of the room before continuing. "This is where you'll spend much of your free time. The common room is reserved for Slytherins only, so you can feel free to speak your mind without worrying about outsiders listening in."

She gestured toward a nearby door. "The dormitories are through here. First-years are on the lower level, but as you progress through your years, you'll move up to higher levels. Each of you will have your own room, a privilege that not all houses enjoy. This is a sign of the respect that Slytherin gives to those who value their privacy and independence."

Alaric exchanged a look with Draco, both of them clearly impressed. The idea of having their own rooms was a luxury that set Slytherin apart from the other houses, further reinforcing the sense of superiority that came with being part of the house of serpents.

"Before you head to your rooms, there are a few things you need to know about Slytherin," Ophelia continued, her tone growing more serious. "Slytherin is not just a house—it's a way of life. We value ambition, cunning, and resourcefulness. But most importantly, we value loyalty to our house. Betrayal is not tolerated. If you cross one of us, you cross all of us."

She looked each of them in the eye, making sure her message was clear. "Now, you'll meet the current Slytherin King and his court. They are the upperclassmen who have earned the respect and authority to lead this house. Learn from them, respect them, and you may find yourself among their ranks one day."

As if on cue, the door to the common room opened, and Professor Snape entered, his black robes billowing behind him like a shadow. The room fell silent as he swept inside, his cold, dark eyes scanning the group with a calculating gaze.

"Welcome to Slytherin," Snape said, his voice smooth and low. "I trust that you will all strive to uphold the honor and traditions of this house. Slytherin is a house of winners—of those who understand that power is not given, but taken."

He paused, letting his words hang in the air before continuing. "There are rules here, but more importantly, there is a hierarchy. You will learn your place in it, and if you prove yourself worthy, you may rise to positions of influence."

With a nod, Snape stepped aside, allowing a group of older students to enter. They were led by a tall, handsome seventh-year with dark hair and an air of authority that was impossible to ignore. His eyes were sharp and calculating, and he carried himself with the confidence of someone who knew he was in charge.

"This," Snape said, gesturing to the older student, "is Marcus Flint, the current Slytherin King. He and his court are the leaders of this house. You would do well to heed their advice and follow their example."

Marcus Flint stepped forward, his gaze sweeping over the first-years with a mixture of approval and scrutiny. "Welcome to Slytherin," he said, his voice deep and commanding. "As the Slytherin King, it is my responsibility to ensure that this house remains strong and united. We are a family, but we are also competitors. We push each other to be better, to achieve more, and to claim what is rightfully ours."

He paused, letting his words sink in. "You've been chosen for Slytherin because you have potential. But potential means nothing without action. If you want to rise in this house, you must prove yourself. Those who are strong will thrive. Those who are weak will fall."

The members of his court stepped forward, each introducing themselves with a brief nod. They were a formidable group, each exuding confidence and power. It was clear that they had earned their places through determination and skill, and that they expected the same from the new arrivals.

After the introductions, Marcus gave a final nod. "You'll find your rooms down the hall. Get some rest. Tomorrow, your journey truly begins."

With that, the court members stepped aside, allowing the first-years to head to their dormitories. Alaric followed his companions down the hall, noting the smooth stone walls and the elegant sconces that lined the corridor. The air was cool and still, the atmosphere one of quiet, brooding power.

When they reached their rooms, Alaric was pleased to find that his was spacious and well-appointed. The walls were paneled in dark wood, and the floor was covered with a thick, green carpet. A large four-poster bed, draped in green and silver, dominated the room, and a polished mahogany desk sat near the window, overlooking the lake.

A door on one side led to a private bathroom, complete with a marble sink and a large, claw-footed tub. Alaric ran his hand along the edge of the desk, appreciating the craftsmanship and the sense of luxury that permeated the room. This was a place of power, a sanctuary where he could plan and strategize, away from prying eyes.

As he unpacked his belongings, Alaric's mind buzzed with the events of the evening. The feast, the Sorting, the introduction to the Slytherin hierarchy—it all pointed to one thing: this was where he belonged. But more than that, it was where he would begin to carve out his legacy.

Before he turned in for the night, Alaric glanced at the small silver plaque above the door. It bore the inscription: "Nobilis in Animo et in Facto" "Noble in Mind and in Deed." It was a reminder of the expectations placed upon those who resided within these walls. Slytherin demanded greatness, and Alaric was determined to deliver.

The room was quiet, save for the soft crackling of the fire in the corner. As Alaric settled into bed, his mind raced with thoughts of the days to come. The events of the evening had set the stage, but tomorrow would be the beginning of his true journey. He would have to navigate the intricacies of Slytherin house, earn the respect of his peers, and rise to the top of the hierarchy. But he was ready for the challenge.

With a final glance at the dark, green-lit room, Alaric closed his eyes, allowing sleep to take him. The future was bright, and he would ensure that his name would be remembered throughout the halls of Hogwarts.