Chapter Nine: Welcome to the Snake Pit

Silence crashed into the Great Hall like a rogue bludger on a rampage. I yanked off the Sorting Hat, half-expecting cheers or jeers. Instead, I got stunned faces and a whole lot of awkward nothing. Perfect. Even the Hat wanted to complicate my life.

The Sorting Hat had whispered, "Slytherin," and I knew my life at Hogwarts was about to get... interesting. Across the hall, Elias's grin was the only thing not frozen in shock. Right—the bet. "Aren't we forgetting something, Arthur?" His voice cut through the silence like a lightsaber through butter. That was my cue.

I reached into my pocket and felt the cold edge of the coin we'd wagered. With a flick worthy of a Quidditch highlight reel, I sent the coin spinning across the hall. It arced beautifully, catching the candlelight before Elias snatched it out of the air like a pro Seeker.

"Never forget a deal, Mr. Belmont-Prince," he called back, tone dripping with mischief. Gryffindors around him chuckled, obviously in on the joke. I glanced at my new housemates—Slytherins with their calculating stares and slight smirks. Fabulous. I was already the most popular kid at the villain's table.

As I sauntered over to what appeared to be Hogwarts' version of royalty, a boy signaled me like he was directing an airplane on a runway. His blonde hair practically sparkled under the Great Hall's enchanted ceiling.

"Draco Malfoy. Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Prince." His smile was so slick I was surprised he didn't slide off his seat.

Whispers buzzed around us, eyes widening at the mention of my name. Clearly, it set off alarms and tickled fancies. I was going to have to get used to that. Growing up as Arthur Belmont-Prince, I'd thought I'd seen it all. Apparently, I was wrong.

Draco leaned in, close enough for me to smell his cologne—eau de money. "I must say, I was quite surprised. With a name like yours, I expected you in Gryffindor. Yet, here you are amongst the serpents."

I leaned back, giving him a grin that I hoped looked confident. "Life's full of surprises, Draco. Keeps things interesting, doesn't it?"

He sneered, the way only Draco Malfoy could. "Surprises are for the unprepared. A true Slytherin is always ready for the unexpected."

"Yeah, like when you think you're getting a puppy for Christmas and end up with a dragon," I replied, shrugging. "You adapt."

Draco's eyes narrowed, just a bit, like he was trying to decipher a particularly tricky potion. "We'll see how well you adapt, Belmont-Prince."

Professor McGonagall clapped her hands for attention, and the doors swung open, revealing the feast. "Let the feast begin!" Dumbledore declared, a twinkle in his eye that suggested he was probably planning his next prank.

The tables groaned under dishes filled with more food than even a house-elf could dream up. Draco's airs and graces evaporated as his eyes widened at the sight.

"I half expected one of Dumbledore's long-winded speeches about unity and inter-house cooperation," Draco muttered, spearing a roast potato with unnecessary force. "Fortunate for us, hunger trumps tradition tonight."

Chewing thoughtfully on a succulent piece of chicken, I nodded. "Nothing stands between a Malfoy and his dinner, huh?"

"Not just a Malfoy trait," he shot back, a hint of a real smile playing around his mouth. "A universal truth, that."

I couldn't help but chuckle. The food was good, really good. And despite the weirdness of the evening, I felt a strange sense of belonging. Maybe not with Draco and his entourage, but here, at Hogwarts. I had a lot to prove and even more to discover. And if the first few minutes were any indication, it was going to be one wild ride.

"Hey, Draco," I said, glancing at the enchanted ceiling. "What's the deal with the sky up there? It looks real."

"That's because it is, enchanted to reflect the sky outside," Draco replied, with a touch of superiority.

"Right," I said, more to myself than him. "Magic. I keep forgetting I'm supposed to stop questioning everything logically."

Draco smirked, but his eyes were cold. "You'd better get used to it, Prince. Otherwise, you'll find yourself in a lot more trouble than you can handle."

As I settled into the Slytherin table, I found myself seated between two classmates whose names I didn't catch during the initial introductions. One was a girl with sleek, black hair and sharp green eyes that seemed to miss nothing. The other was a burly boy with a constant scowl etched on his face.

"So, you're the famous Arthur Belmont-Prince," the girl said, her tone half-amused, half-curious. "I'm Pansy Parkinson. Welcome to the den of serpents."

"Thanks, I guess," I replied, trying to sound nonchalant while wondering just how famous I really was.

"What's the story with you and Gryffindor boy over there?" the burly boy grunted, nodding toward Elias, who was still flashing that triumphant grin. "Name's Crabbe, by the way."

"Elias and I go way back," I said, picking at my food. "We made a bet on which house I'd end up in. Looks like I owe him a galleon."

"Unlucky," Crabbe muttered through a mouthful of mashed potatoes. "Still, better to be here than with those reckless fools."

"Speaking of which," Pansy leaned in, lowering her voice, "what's a Belmont-Prince doing in Slytherin? Your family's known for their Slytherin legacy, right?"

I shrugged, feigning indifference. "Guess the Hat saw something else in me. Maybe I'm more cunning than brave."

Pansy smirked. "Cunning's good. You'll need it around here. Everyone's always looking for an angle."

"Noted," I said, filing that bit of advice away. "Any other survival tips?"

"Stick close to the right people," Draco interjected from across the table, his eyes gleaming with a mix of malice and amusement. "And don't cross me."

"Seems straightforward enough," I replied, meeting his gaze evenly. "Anything else?"

"You'll find out," Pansy said with a cryptic smile. "Hogwarts has a way of teaching you things... sometimes the hard way."

I nodded, deciding to focus on my food. The conversation shifted to Quidditch, and I listened as they debated the merits of various players and teams. Apparently, Slytherin took their Quidditch very seriously.

"Are you any good on a broomstick, Prince?" Draco asked suddenly, turning the conversation back to me.

"Not bad," I said, trying to sound modest. "I've had some practice."

"Good," he said, his eyes narrowing slightly. "We'll need all the talent we can get if we're going to win the House Cup this year."

"Consider me available for tryouts," I replied, not wanting to commit too strongly just yet. I had a feeling Draco wasn't the type to let things slide once you promised them.

As the feast continued, I started to relax a little. The initial tension was easing, and I began to get a sense of the dynamics within Slytherin. It was clear that Draco held a lot of sway, but there were other players in this game too. Pansy, with her sharp mind and quick wit, and Crabbe, who seemed more brawn than brains but was loyal to a fault.

Eventually, the food began to disappear, and the students started to disperse. Draco stood, and the rest of us followed suit, heading out of the Great Hall and down to the dungeons where the Slytherin common room awaited. The walls were lined with ancient tapestries, and the air was cooler, a constant reminder that we were deep beneath the castle.

The common room was everything I'd imagined—dark, elegant, and filled with an aura of quiet power. Green and silver decorations were everywhere, and a fire roared in the hearth, casting flickering shadows across the room.

Imagine walking into a room that looked like a medieval king's private study, if the king had a thing for serpents. Stone walls, polished to a dark sheen, were lined with high-backed leather chairs that looked as if they'd swallow you whole. An enormous fireplace took up one wall, with emerald flames dancing in the hearth, crackling in a way that suggested they might be whispering secrets if you listened closely enough.

Above us, the ceiling seemed to stretch up into shadows, supported by intricately carved pillars that twisted like snakes. Dim, greenish light filtered through tall, narrow windows that were half-covered by heavy velvet drapes. The effect was somewhere between "cozy" and "dungeon chic."

"Home sweet home," Pansy said, dropping onto a leather sofa and stretching out. "Get used to it, Prince."

Draco was already gathering a group around him, talking animatedly about some plan or another. I decided to explore a bit, get my bearings. As I wandered, a small, blond-haired girl approached me.

"Hi," she said shyly. "I'm Daphne Greengrass. Just wanted to say welcome."

"Thanks, Daphne," I replied, smiling. "It's nice to meet someone who isn't sizing me up like a potential rival."

She laughed softly. "Don't get too comfortable. The night's still young."

Great. Just what I needed—paranoia on top of everything else. I gave her a polite nod and continued my exploration of the common room.

I wandered past groups of students deep in conversation, feeling more like a tourist than a resident. The Slytherin common room was starting to feel like one of those old mansions you see in horror movies—beautiful, but with a definite undercurrent of "something bad happened here." As I walked, I couldn't help but think that if the walls could talk, they'd probably have some juicy gossip.

I found an empty corner and sank into one of the oversized leather chairs. It felt like sitting on a very expensive cloud. I could get used to this. Just as I was starting to relax, a voice piped up from behind me.

"Enjoying yourself, Prince?" It was Blaise Zabini, another Slytherin I'd only heard about in passing. He was lounging in a chair opposite me, looking as if he'd been born to do just that.

"Trying to," I replied. "This place takes some getting used to."

Blaise smirked. "You'll either fit in or you won't. Simple as that."

"Comforting," I said dryly. "Any tips for surviving my first week?"

"Stay out of Draco's way," Blaise advised. "He's got a lot of pull around here, and he doesn't take kindly to anyone threatening his little kingdom."

"Noted," I said, thinking that Draco Malfoy was like a less cuddly version of a territorial cat.

"And don't get too friendly with the Gryffindors," Blaise added. "We have a reputation to maintain."

"Right, because making friends with people in other houses is such a crime," I muttered.

"Just saying," Blaise said with a shrug. "Choose your alliances carefully."

I was about to ask him more, but a commotion at the other end of the room caught my attention. Draco was in the middle of what looked like a heated discussion with a couple of older students. From the way he was gesticulating, it seemed like he was planning some kind of grand scheme.

"What's going on over there?" I asked Blaise, nodding toward the gathering.

"Draco's trying to make his mark," Blaise said, sounding bored. "First year, and he's already acting like he runs the place."

"And does it ever work?" I asked, genuinely curious.Blaise raised an eyebrow. "He's got the name and the confidence. Some people are already buying into it."

"Sounds fun," I said, though my stomach churned at the thought.

"Stick around long enough, and you'll see it all," Blaise said. "Just remember, in Slytherin, you either swim with the current or get dragged under."

"Swimming sounds better than drowning," I agreed.

With that cheerful thought, I decided it was time to head to the dormitory. I bid Blaise goodnight and made my way through the maze-like corridors. The dormitory was just as opulent as the common room, with four-poster beds draped in green and silver, and heavy curtains that could shut out the world.

I climbed into bed, pulling the curtains closed around me. The day had been overwhelming, to say the least.

As I lay there, staring at the canopy above, I couldn't help but wonder what my mom would think. She never told me I was a wizard, never shared anything about this world. My dad, on the other hand, had been in Slytherin, too, before he died. Somehow, I doubted his experiences had been quite like mine...

Just as I was drifting off, the curtain to my bed was yanked open. I nearly jumped out of my skin

"One more thing, Prince," Draco said, leaning in with a conspiratorial grin. "Tomorrow, we have Potions with the Gryffindors. Don't embarrass us."

"Wouldn't dream of it," I replied, trying to match his smirk.

"Good," he said, letting the curtain drop. "Welcome to Slytherin."

As I finally closed my eyes, I thought about what Blaise had said. Swim with the current or get dragged under. Well, I had no intention of drowning. This was going to be my year, and I was going to make the most of it.

With that, I drifted off to sleep, ready to face whatever challenges tomorrow would bring.