"This is our common room. Make sure to say the password in front of this wall," Gemma Farley said, tossing her blonde hair as she stepped forward and whispered, "Glory."
She took a half-step back.
A green light slithered through the cracks in the wall like a snake, and the bricks parted, revealing a corridor behind them.
The Slytherin common room appeared before the first-years.
It was a long, narrow dungeon with rough stone walls and ceiling. Circular chandeliers, glowing with an eerie green light, hung from chains. Everything in the room seemed to shimmer in shades of green and silver.
An ornate fireplace, carved with serpentine reliefs whose eyes glinted, sat alongside intricately detailed chairs and leather sofas, all bathed in a faint green glow.
At the far end of the room, a massive glass window revealed the gentle lapping of the Black Lake, its waves almost audible overhead.
Edward sensed a variety of aquatic creatures lingering outside—fish, merpeople, Grindylows, and even the occasional tap of a giant squid against the glass.
A roaring fire in the hearth by the glass wall cast a warm, luxurious glow, making the room feel both grand and oddly cozy.
At least, that was Edward's first impression.
"Boys' dorms are on the left, girls' on the right. Boys are not allowed in the girls' dorms," Gemma said, pointing to two spiral staircases behind her.
"Good. At least this year, no one's foolish enough to ask if girls can enter the boys' dorms," she added, scanning the group with a satisfied nod.
Crabbe, who had started to raise his hand, quietly lowered it.
"Oh, and one more thing," Gemma continued. "Unlike the other three Houses, Slytherin values personal privacy. Each of you gets your own private alcove with your bed. What you do with it is your business."
"Now, you can head to your dorms and rest."
Draco Malfoy was about to stride eagerly toward the dorms when Gemma stopped him.
"Malfoy, Bedivere, you two stay behind."
Malfoy's heart sank. He shot a venomous glare at Edward, who stood calmly beside him.
First day of school, and not only had he been humiliated twice and upstaged, but now the prefect was singling him out for a private talk—all because of *this* guy!
To think he'd be stuck in the same House, maybe even the same dorm, with him for *seven years*?
If he'd known this would happen, he would've backed his father's idea to send him to Durmstrang instead!
Edward, as usual, remained unfazed.
"Come with me. Professor Snape wants to see you," Gemma said, waving a hand as she led them out of the common room.
At the mention of Professor Snape, Malfoy's confidence surged. He glanced at Edward, a smirk creeping onto his face. In his mind, he was already picturing Edward being expelled, dragging his suitcase home in disgrace.
Professor Snape was his father's best mate, the Head of Slytherin!
There was only one reason Snape would want to see them: to back *him* up! His mother had asked Snape to look out for him before term started, after all.
Malfoy strutted behind Gemma, head held high, with Edward trailing calmly behind.
Snape's office wasn't far from the common room. The room was lit by a few flickering candles, somehow colder than the corridor outside.
Edward had seen Professor Snape before—greasy black hair, hooked nose twitching slightly, sallow skin. During the feast, he'd been seated on the left side of the staff table, his gaze fixed on the Gryffindor table, barely glancing at his own House.
"Gemma, you may go," Snape said, dismissing her with a wave. His eyes settled on the two boys.
"Edward Bedivere, I hear you and Draco had a bit of a… disagreement on the train?" Snape asked, clearing his throat.
"Yes, Professor," Malfoy jumped in, barely containing his glee. "This brute attacked me on the train! I hope you'll see justice done!"
"Mr. Bedivere, is this true?" Snape's voice grew lower, more deliberate.
"Yes, Professor," Edward said honestly. "But Malfoy provoked me first with his insults."
As a knight, Edward believed in owning his actions, but that didn't mean he'd let Malfoy slander him.
"Oh? And what exactly did Mr. Malfoy say to make you lose your temper?" Snape asked, his fingers interlacing as his brows twisted together.
"Sir, I think it's best if Malfoy tells you himself. He seemed rather proud of the word he used," Edward replied, his calm demeanor unshaken.
Snape's attitude didn't faze him. He'd heard plenty about the professor's reputation from his parents.
Though Edward's "Blessing of Empathy" should have let him sense others' emotions, he couldn't read Snape at all. The man's mind and heart felt locked tight, like a sealed vault, especially since Edward's blessing was only at Level 1.
Still, Edward wasn't intimidated.
"Well, sir," Malfoy began, smirking. He could hardly believe Edward had just handed him the chance to spin the story. "I was only kindly advising Bedivere to make worthwhile friends at school, not to associate with his parents' kind—those *Mudbloods*—"
He rambled on, embellishing with relish, oblivious to the fact that Snape's face was growing darker by the second.
"Mr. Malfoy, what did you just say?" Snape's voice was as cold as a winter crypt.
Malfoy faltered, confused. "Those *Mudbloods*—"
"Silence!" Snape slammed his hand on the desk and stood, looming over Malfoy like a giant bat. Malfoy trembled, terrified.
He couldn't understand why the professor, who'd always favored him, was acting like this.
Even Edward was startled. He hadn't expected Snape to react so strongly. Given Snape's close ties with the Malfoys, shouldn't *he* be the one in trouble?
"Mr. Malfoy, I cannot fathom how Lucius has invested so much in you, and *this* is how you repay him? Is *this* your idea of noble manners?" Snape spat.
"I'll be writing to Lucius tonight to inform him that the money he spent on your upbringing might as well have gone to hosting a feast for trolls or goblins!"
"For your outrageous behavior, Slytherin will lose *twenty-five points*!" Snape's hands clenched, knuckles white, his voice dripping with fury.
The word *Mudblood* had ripped open Snape's most painful, long-buried memories.
As for Malfoy, he stood frozen, as if struck by lightning, his entire worldview collapsing around him.