Chapter 30: The Test of Authority

"Draco, he's already outshone your performance from last year," teased a short-haired girl sitting across from a blond boy at the second-year section of Slytherin's long table.

The boy's face instantly darkened.

"Him? He's just a lowly half-blood," Draco Malfoy sneered. "Let me tell you, this year I'll be the team's Seeker and lead Slytherin to win the House Cup!"

Last year, Bloody Baron had sat beside Draco, scaring him half to death—a memory that remained one of his life's greatest embarrassments.

"Draco, are you really joining the team?"

Hearing this, the first-years' attention shifted to him. Quidditch was a sport beloved by nearly all wizards, and the annual matches were the highlight of the school year.

"Of course! My skills are far superior to that dimwit Potter's—he only got lucky," Malfoy declared with smug confidence.

In reality, Draco's father had sold a number of items in Knockturn Alley and used the profits to outfit the entire Slytherin Quidditch team with the latest Nimbus 2001 brooms, which had secured his spot on the team.

As the feast neared its end, Dumbledore returned to the Great Hall alongside Professors Snape and McGonagall.

The headmaster made a few brief announcements and concluded the evening with a spirited rendition of the school song, marking the end of the welcoming feast.

"First-years, follow me!"

The fifth-year prefects from all four houses stood up almost simultaneously, signaling their respective groups to leave the hall.

Slytherin and Hufflepuff descended into the castle's underground chambers, while Gryffindor and Ravenclaw ascended the grand marble staircase to the upper levels.

Slytherin's dormitories were located even deeper underground than Hufflepuff's.

"Let me tell you this: of the four houses, Slytherin has the best dormitories," the prefect leading the group announced proudly. "From your rooms and the common room, you can see the underwater world of the Black Lake, as well as the magical creatures living in it."

The mention of magical creatures instantly brightened the faces of the apprehensive first-years, who had been unsettled by the dim, cold atmosphere of the dungeon corridors. Their excitement rekindled memories of the giant squid they had encountered earlier during the boat ride across the lake.

"Pureblood!"

At the end of the hallway, the prefect shouted the password. The wall split open to reveal a large room bathed in green light—the Slytherin common room.

"The common room password changes every two weeks," the prefect explained as they entered the luxurious space. "You'll find the new password on the notice board."

The common room's intricate furnishings and stunning view of the lake completely dispelled any lingering unease about the dungeon's gloom. The sight of merfolk and other creatures swimming past the transparent windows was particularly captivating.

"This is just like living in an aquarium," one first-year marveled.

George surveyed the common room briefly, then turned and headed toward the boys' dormitory. He quickly located his assigned room, where his name was listed alongside three others: Baron Barlante, Ivy Thorne, and Cesar Burke—none of whom appeared to belong to prominent wizarding families.

"Doesn't seem like anyone notable," George muttered, pushing open the door.

Inside, the dormitory featured similar transparent panels offering views of the lakebed. On a bedside table near the door, George spotted his owl, Paige, eagerly devouring its meal.

"Seems like you weren't left hungry," he remarked with a small smile.

"Whoo! Whoo!" Paige hooted in greeting before returning to its food.

After unpacking his belongings, George sat on his bed and began reading his magic textbooks. Magic fascinated him—far beyond its utility for self-preservation. The idea of mastering powers he had only imagined in his previous life filled him with unparalleled excitement.

For the first time, he felt truly alive.

About half an hour later, three boys entered the room, chatting animatedly. Their attention was immediately drawn to Paige, whose impressive size dwarfed their own owls.

"Hey, kid! You're George, right?" one of them asked.

"Call me George," he replied without looking up.

The boys exchanged glances, and the burliest of the trio puffed out his chest.

"I want your bed. Pack your things and move to the one at the far end," he ordered.

The demand wasn't about the bed itself; it was a power play. The trio, sons of Ministry officials and childhood friends, had decided to assert their dominance over the "half-blood" who had drawn attention at the feast.

This was their way of ensuring George understood one thing: in Slytherin, they called the shots.