The morning rush was already in full swing in the Slytherin common room. Students flooded the shared space. Victor approached a neighboring door and knocked. A second later, the door swung open, but instead of Daphne, Astoria appeared on the threshold.
— What do you want now? — she asked with a frown, crossing her arms over her chest.
— Where is your sister?
— No idea, she went out somewhere, — the girl grunted.
Victor nodded understandingly and glanced down the long corridor leading to the dormitories.
— Cover your ears, — he advised Astoria.
— What?..
— DAPHNE! — His voice, amplified by the echo of the stone vaults, rolled through all of Slytherin, causing the general hum to fall silent.
Daphne appeared from a far door almost immediately.
— And good morning to you too, — she said calmly, walking up to him. — Astoria, are you ready? Go on, head to breakfast.
— Don't tell me what to do! — Astoria pouted offendedly and slammed the door in their faces with a loud bang.
— Quite the personality... — Victor smirked. — Good thing my Adele isn't so prickly. Anyway, what's the status on the others?
— Everything's fine, everyone is on their feet, — Daphne handed him three vials. — These weren't needed.
— Keep them, — Victor waved her off carelessly. — I'll brew more. Well, since everything is under control, I'll see you in the Great Hall.
He turned toward his own door, pressed the handle, and immediately frowned.
— Adele! Didn't I tell you to get up?!
Victor and Adele entered the Great Hall, which was already filled with the roar of hundreds of voices and the clatter of silverware.
— Alright then, — Victor gently nudged his sister's shoulder. — Go to your table and have a good breakfast.
— Will you sit with me? — Adele asked hopefully.
— No, — he shook his head. — Go sit next to Luna; she looks quite lonely.
He pointed toward Lovegood, who was sitting apart from the main mass of Ravenclaws, pensively staring into her oatmeal.
— I don't want to sit with her, — Adele grumbled.
— Well, then you can join the others, — he nodded toward a noisy group of Ravenclaws.
Adele shot them an appraising look, gave a resigned sigh, and trudged over to Luna.
Victor took his usual seat, exchanging brief greetings with his classmates. A few minutes later, Daphne joined him.
— Gemma is upset that we didn't invite her to the party last night, — she reported in a low voice.
— Who? — Victor lazily spread jam on a piece of toast.
— Gemma Farley. Our prefect and the leader of the "neutrals" faction. More than a third of Slytherin is under her wing—those who prefer not to get involved in your war with the purebloods.
Victor frowned, his hand freezing.
— A third of the house? How did I let her lead away so many people?
— Actually, she controlled practically the entire house before you arrived. And we didn't invite anyone specifically. If you've forgotten, initially only our peers followed you. And even then, it was because you took us by force. It was only later that the oppressed half-bloods gravitated toward you, followed by everyone else who realized that spending time with you was much more fun.
— Seriously? — Victor was genuinely surprised. — You mean I didn't become the King of Snakes right away? Strange, I don't remember how we became so many at all.
Daphne gave a short, condescending chuckle.
— Of course you don't. Because you're an irresponsible leader. You just fooled around and caused chaos, and they loved it. I handled everything: accepting new members, keeping lists, maintaining order. Without me, you wouldn't be king right now.
Victor laughed out loud, not at all offended by her words.
— Well done, Daphne! Keep it up. I won't interfere; I'll just keep doing what I do best—shining like a star.
Daphne rolled her eyes.
— By the way, what about those two who betrayed us at the end of last year?
— Betrayed? Who? — Victor took a lazy bite of toast.
— Ha! — Daphne exhaled tiredly. — Two guys from Farley's faction blabbed about our farewell party. That's why we didn't invite them yesterday.
— Oh-ho... Well, it happens. Let's leave them be, — he said lightheartedly.
— What?! Victor, you can't do that! You have to find them and at least beat them up a little. For the sake of order.
— Why me?
— Because you are Victor Moss! — she hissed. — Your power is built on fear, in case you've forgotten. As soon as you stop punishing betrayal, you'll lose your people.
— Daphne, darling, you're confused, — Victor smiled gently, keeping his eyes on her. — I'm not looking for an army. For me, this is just a group of people to have fun with and maybe take the House Cup while we're at it. I'm not going to hit anyone. At most, I'll give them a scare. I've renounced violence and stepped onto the path of harmony and peace. If anyone doesn't like it—the doors are open, they can leave.
— What bloody harmony?! — Daphne stared at him point-blank, trying to figure out if he was joking or not. — What happened to you in France? Listen to me: in Slytherin, there has always been a war for power. Whoever is at the top takes everything: private rooms, prestige, the meeting hall... which you, by the way, usurped and turned into a private club for entertainment. Over time, all these privileges became the property of purebloods only. You tore that system to shreds last year! You brought back the times when status had to be won with strength and cunning, not a last name.
She caught her breath, lowering her voice to a whisper:
— And now we can't give up our positions. If other factions find out that the "Monster of Slytherin" has suddenly become peace-loving, they will go on the offensive. Gemma isn't a concern—we simply have more people. But we should fear the purebloods. They are few, but they are desperate. They'll start pressing with the prestige of their families, and those they can't intimidate with their parents' connections—they'll simply buy off. Believe me, to regain the peak of Slytherin, they won't hesitate to shake mountains of Galleons out of their daddies.
— Desperate? — Victor raised an eyebrow. — Why?
— Their numbers have dwindled, — Daphne explained grimly. — Not all of their lackeys risked returning to Hogwarts this year. Rumor has it that some crazy arsonist maniac has appeared in England. They say he has a personal grudge against former Death Eaters. Many families are leaving the country in a panic, taking their children with them.
— Oh... — Victor whistled. — How much I've missed while I was in France. I'd love to meet this guy.
Victor thought for a moment, going through movie plots in his memory. "Death Eater Hunter?" Not a single canonical character fit the description. He decided it was likely someone like Ben—a powerful mage who simply remained off-screen in the original story.
He reached for a muffin but suddenly froze.
— Wait, — he slowly turned his head toward Daphne. — Why an "arsonist"?
— I don't know exactly, — Daphne shrugged. — But apparently, he's burned more than ten Death Eaters, leaving their Dark Marks untouched as a sort of calling card.
Victor slowly put the muffin back on the plate. He frowned.
"I don't like the nickname 'arsonist maniac,'" he thought, feeling a bit offended.
— So, what are we going to do about those two? — Daphne asked again, completely failing to notice his state.
Victor blinked slowly, returning from his thoughts.
— Do we have to do anything? Let's just pretend we forgot about them.
— Out of the question, — Daphne snapped. — At the end of last year, when we were saying goodbye, you publicly announced that we would hold a trial for them this semester.
Victor raised an eyebrow in surprise:
— A trial?
— Yes, — Daphne nodded.
Victor thought for a second.
— You know... I like that. Sounds pretty good. Fine, it's settled. Tell Gemma that on Saturday after curfew, the trial will begin in our hall. Let's make it official. And tell those two—they can prepare. Let them find some defense.
Daphne gave a satisfied hum and quickly made a note in her notebook.
— And what are we going to do about the first years? — Daphne persisted.
— A-a-a-ah! — Victor threw his fork down in frustration, and it clattered against the plate. — Enough! Let me eat in peace. Decide what to do with them yourself; I don't care. Dammit, I should have just crippled everyone last year and stayed a loner. Why do I even have this faction? It's nothing but problems and a headache!
Daphne didn't even flinch at his outburst. She calmly reached out, took an appetizing glazed donut from a platter, and before taking a bite, remarked serenely:
— That's all because you love power and being the center of attention.
Victor thought about it and sighed.
— Ha-a-ah... Yeah, you're right about that.