Snape was already working. He picked up Geoffrey's wand first, held it to the light, and examined it closely.
Then brought it to his nose and inhaled. Every detail, checked.
He set it down, drew his own wand, and pointed it at Geoffrey. His lips moved. No sound came out.
No one heard the incantation, but they saw Geoffrey's body jolt.
Snape frowned. Cast again.
Then he stepped forward, pried Geoffrey's mouth open with his fingers, and leaned in to smell.
The gesture was blunt, bordering on rough. Not elegant.
But Snape performed it with the same focused intensity he'd bring to a rare potion ingredient. No wasted emotion.
Geoffrey stood with his mouth forced open, too terrified to twitch.
The common room held its silence for nearly two minutes before Snape straightened and turned toward Regulus.
"He drank something." He kept his voice level, working to appear composed. "A boosting potion. I'd need to confirm the exact formula, but there's no question."
Murmurs broke out.
"He actually did it..."
"The nerve."
"Who gave it to him? No way he brewed that himself."
"Does it matter who gave it? He drank it."
Snape stood in place, aware of the eyes on him. Pure-bloods who wouldn't normally spare him a glance were looking at him differently now. Hard to say whether it was respect or appraisal, acceptance or calculation.
But he was being seen. For this moment, at least, every person in the room was looking at him.
Snape liked the feeling. He dropped his gaze before anyone could read his eyes, then looked at Regulus.
Everyone else followed suit.
Geoffrey's potion use was his discovery. The final match was his call to halt. Snape was his choice. Both Prefects stood nearby, watching him too.
Regulus stood. He walked out from the sofa section.
The crowd parted without being asked, opening a path. No one spoke.
He reached the center. Snape stood beside him, lips parting as though about to say something.
Regulus caught the expression in his peripheral vision. Snape was riding the moment, wanting to demonstrate more, to let the room see what he could do.
But he'd had the sense to check Regulus's reaction first. Not completely lost to it.
Regulus's gaze swept past him.
Snape met it. There was nothing in that look. No emotion, no threat, hardly even attention. It landed and moved on.
But Snape understood perfectly.
He pressed his lips together, lowered his eyes, and tucked the impulse away.
Regulus walked to Geoffrey. The boy had gone hollow. Ashen skin, blank stare.
He watched Regulus approach and flinched back a step before catching himself.
One look was all Regulus needed. The earlier excitement and bravado had drained completely. Nothing left inside but fear.
But the thing that didn't belong to him was still burning. The surface had calmed slightly. Underneath, nothing had stopped.
The turbulence had decoupled from his emotions. It was moving on its own now. Burning on its own.
Regulus could suppress it for him. But there was no need.
He turned to Veronica Yaxley. "It's confirmed. Announce the winner."
Veronica looked at him and nodded.
No resentment. Regulus stepping in hadn't offended her. Their families' relationship was part of it, but more importantly, if he hadn't caught this and something had gone wrong, she and Polius would've shouldered the blame as Prefects.
She cleared her throat. "This year's first-year Chief is Rosalie Selwyn. Geoffrey Sayre is disqualified."
The common room erupted. Applause, whistles, goblets clinking together.
The sixth-year Selwyn was swarmed, a cluster of laughing students clapping him on the shoulder.
No one spared Geoffrey another glance. He still stood where he was, but the crowd flowed around him as though he'd ceased to exist, heading for the person who deserved congratulations.
Snape stood nearby. Seeing things winding down and his part apparently finished, he turned to leave.
Regulus's gaze flicked toward him. Snape stopped instantly and didn't move.
The common room door swung open and Professor Slughorn strode in.
His robes were presentable enough, but his hair was disheveled and his breathing uneven. He'd rushed here, and he'd rushed hard.
His eyes swept the crowd the moment he entered. They found Regulus, and he made straight for him.
Unease churned in Slughorn's stomach. Regulus had personally sent someone to fetch him, saying something was happening in the common room. He knew tonight was the Slytherin welcome gathering, the Chief challenge.
He only hoped it wasn't another case of someone foolish enough to provoke the boy.
The thought quickened his pace.
The messenger had been Lina Costa, a second-year, half-blood. The girl had arrived out of breath, managing only that something was wrong in the common room and Mr. Black had sent her. Beyond that, she couldn't clarify.
The less she could explain, the worse it sat with him.
Slughorn pushed through the crowd and was about to ask Regulus what had happened when his eye caught something.
Geoffrey Sayre.
Slughorn paused. Looked closer.
One look was enough. He crossed to Geoffrey in quick strides, wand already drawn by the time he reached him.
He aimed at Geoffrey and rattled off several incantations in rapid succession. The boy's body shuddered. His color shifted from ashen to pale, then recovered a fraction of warmth.
Not fully resolved. The volatile magic had only been tamped down, stabilized for now.
Slughorn stowed his wand and let out a breath. He glanced at Regulus and let out another.
Only then did he take in the room and piece together what had happened. A reckless first-year who'd drunk something he shouldn't have to gain an edge. Nothing more. He didn't look deeper.
Polius Greengrass approached, expression uneasy. "Professor, I..."
Slughorn waved him off. "Not to worry, Mr. Greengrass. This kind of potion isn't something you'd be expected to detect."
The genial smile settled back onto his face. He patted Polius on the shoulder. "Carry on. Don't let a small hiccup spoil the welcome gathering."
Polius exhaled.
Veronica came over and spoke to Slughorn in low tones. He listened, nodding along, eyes drifting toward Regulus.
If it was Regulus who'd caught the potion, nothing surprising about that.
After a brief exchange with both Prefects, Slughorn gestured at Geoffrey. "I'll need to take Sayre with me. There's more to sort out. Bit tricky."
Both Prefects nodded.
Slughorn turned to Regulus at last.
Regulus met his gaze and glanced at Snape. "Professor. Snape identified the potion in Sayre's system."
Slughorn's eyes settled on Snape. A flicker of satisfaction.
He knew this student, of course. Exceptional potion talent. Had attended his club as early as second year.
Too quiet, though. Always tucked in a corner. Not as naturally likable as Lily.
He looked at Regulus again, and a glint of understanding passed through his eyes. Then he smiled. "Severus, perhaps you could lend a hand?"
Snape went still for a heartbeat. A faint rigidity passed through his frame, then released. His expression didn't change.
But Regulus could feel the turmoil underneath. Excitement, surprise and that same uncomfortable, tangled thing Snape always carried.
Classic Snape.
Those dark eyes found Regulus. The look in them was complicated.
Regulus said nothing. A small nod.
Snape turned back to Slughorn and dipped his head, posture composed. "Of course, Professor."
The two of them left with Geoffrey between them. The door closed behind them.
Inside the common room, the gathering continued.
Lina and Samuel had slipped back in during the commotion of Slughorn's arrival, when every eye in the room was elsewhere. They resumed their positions behind Alex, expressions natural, as though they'd never left.
Regulus glanced their way.
The two of them were craning their necks, peering toward the cluster of well-wishers surrounding Rosalie, envy plain on their faces.
These two are interesting.
They'd executed cleanly. Returned without fanfare, without seeking credit, and slotted right back into place as if nothing had happened.
A small task, handled well. It spoke to careful thinking.
For Regulus, his inner circle needed people like them. Cuthbert was the face. Alex was the connector. Hermes was the combat arm.
But there were always minor tasks that needed running, errands that needed doing. Lina and Samuel fit that role.
Not as core members. But usable. And they seemed to understand how to occupy that position on their own.
Polius Greengrass walked over and stopped in front of Regulus. His expression was warmer now, the stiff formality from before gone.
"Mr. Black." He inclined his head slightly. "The next segment... the new Chief may challenge the previous Chief for guidance. If you'd be willing..."
Regulus had no objection. There was a theory he wanted to test anyway. He nodded. "Fine."
Polius relaxed visibly.
He crossed to the sixth-year Selwyn, exchanged a few quiet words, and Selwyn nodded, leading Rosalie over.
Rosalie followed her cousin, that same steady expression in place.
The sixth-year stopped in front of Regulus and extended his hand. "Black. Appreciate this."
Regulus shook it. "Of course."
Selwyn stepped aside and nudged Rosalie forward. "Rosa, watch closely. Learn what you can. Black was last year's Chief, and his level..."
Regulus looked at Rosalie. She wasn't tall. Brown hair pulled back in a ponytail, posture straight as a rod.
She looked back at him. Her eyes shone, but she kept her expression in check.
His tone was mild. "Miss Selwyn, you fought well tonight."
Rosalie's lips pressed together. Her voice came out crisp, steady. "Thank you, Mr. Black."
But one glance told him the girl was buzzing inside.
More than when she'd been announced the winner, even. The feeling radiating off her was something like a fan meeting an idol. Wanting to seem composed, terrified of embarrassing herself, and failing to hide the sheer thrill of it.
Polius began clearing the floor. "Make room, please. Space for Mr. Black and Miss Selwyn."
The crowd drew back, opening a wide circle in the center of the common room.
Cuthbert leaned against the sofa back, legs crossed, watching with open interest.
Alex was curious too, stealing several glances toward the center.
Hermes sat expressionless and bored. A guided duel held zero appeal for him.
Lina stood behind Alex, face full of longing. She watched Rosalie and thought: When will it be my turn to stand there?
Samuel watched too, but his eyes held something different. Lina envied Rosalie. His gaze was fixed on Regulus.
The floor cleared. Regulus and Rosalie faced each other, seven or eight meters apart.
Silence settled. Every eye converged on them.
Regulus looked at Rosalie. Her magic materialized in his perception.
By his standards, it was faint. A candle flame that a single breath could snuff.
But bright enough. It flickered with its owner's emotions, lively and active.
For a first-year, genuinely good.
His voice stayed warm. "Miss Selwyn, you can attack freely. Any spell you like."
Rosalie nodded firmly and tightened her grip on her wand.
He added, "Full strength is fine."
She blinked. Looked up at him.
Full strength?
She hadn't been using full strength. In every match tonight, she'd held back. Her father had drilled it into her: always reserve enough power to counter.
He noticed that?
The thought flashed through her mind, followed immediately by the sense that of course he had.
This was Black. Over the past year, she'd heard more about him at home than she could count. Every holiday, her cousin came back with new stories. How strong he was. How even the upper years deferred to him.
Hearing it enough times planted something in her that went beyond curiosity.
So being seen through didn't surprise her. If anything, it felt inevitable.
Rosalie drew a deep breath and raised her wand. "Mr. Black, I'm starting."
Her first spell came fast. "Incendio!"
Orange-red flames erupted from her wand tip and curled toward Regulus.
He didn't move. When the fire was about to reach him, he lifted his wand and flicked it once, almost casually.
The flames parted as though nudged by an invisible hand, sweeping past his side without touching him.
Rosalie had already repositioned, casting on the move. "Flipendo!"
An invisible wave of force shot toward him.
A tap of his wand and the spell detonated in midair, scattering into nothing.
She kept moving. "Impedimenta!"
Purple light came from his flank.
Regulus shifted his weight and the spell sailed past.
Rosalie gritted her teeth.
"Stupefy!"
"Petrificus Totalus!"
"Expelliarmus!"
Three spells in rapid succession. Not fast by any real standard, but rhythmless, unpredictable.
His wand flicked twice.
The first flick redirected the Stunning Spell into the path of the Full Body-Bind. The two collided midair and burst into a shower of light.
The second flick caught the Disarming Charm and sent it spinning overhead. It struck the stone wall behind him.
Rosalie circled to his flank. "Impedimenta!"
Again.
Regulus didn't turn. He stepped aside and the spell passed through the space where he'd been standing, hitting nothing.
She kept moving. Her footwork was sharper now than before, each step hunting for an angle, searching for a gap he might not cover.
Spells came one after another without pause.
Everything she threw at him, he either flicked away, sidestepped, or let fly toward him before brushing it aside at the last instant.
Not once did he fire back.
A cluster of upper-year girls stood together, eyes bright.
One of them spoke up. "Did you see that move he just..."
"Which one?"
"The turn. When he pivoted, and his wand just..."
Before she could finish, someone else cut in. "It's gorgeous to watch."
"Gorgeous doesn't begin to cover it."
Rosalie's movements began to slow. Her spells weakened. Sweat beaded on her forehead and her footwork lost its earlier crispness.
Regulus watched her magic flickering hard in his perception. She was hitting her limit.
He glanced at Veronica.
She understood. Stepped forward. "Stop!"
Rosalie froze mid-motion, wand dropping to her side, chest heaving.
Veronica spoke clearly. "Our thanks to Mr. Black for his guidance. Miss Selwyn's performance was equally commendable."
Applause filled the room.
A faint flush colored Rosalie's cheeks. Whether from exertion or excitement, it was hard to tell.
The sixth-year Selwyn came over, hand extended. "Black. Can't thank you enough."
Regulus shook his hand. "Rosalie has real talent."
Selwyn gripped a touch harder, gave one firm shake, and left it at that.
Rosalie stood nearby, breathing gradually evening out. The flush hadn't faded from her face, and the light in her eyes burned brighter than before.
Regulus looked at her and waited until her magic had steadied as well.
Veronica was about to announce the end of the segment when he spoke. "Veronica. One moment."
She paused. Seeing he had something to say, she stepped aside and gave him the floor.
Regulus surveyed the room.
When every pair of eyes had gathered on him, he spoke. "The new Chief challenging the previous one. It's a good idea. Passing knowledge down, giving the next generation a look at what's ahead. That's the spirit of Slytherin."
The room quieted. A few nodded. Some exchanged looks. Others wore expressions of mild surprise.
Regulus had always maintained a certain distance in Slytherin. He didn't participate in the petty circles, didn't wade into House politics. Most of the time he was barely visible.
On anyone else, that would read as antisocial. Aloof. On him, most people interpreted it as standing too far above to bother looking down.
Now he was volunteering something unprompted. What did it mean?
Some wondered privately, but others found his words hard to argue with.
He continued. "So I have a proposal. Starting with me, the new Chief may choose one spell to learn, taught by the previous Chief."
A beat of silence. A few upper years traded glances, not quite sure what to make of it.
The sixth-year Selwyn reacted fastest. He answered on Rosalie's behalf without hesitation. "Wonderful idea! Rosa, aren't you going to thank Black?"
Rosalie startled, then looked at Regulus.
He ignored Selwyn entirely and kept his eyes on Rosalie. "Miss Selwyn. You decide. What do you want to learn?"
She met his gaze. Her heartbeat quickened.
Protego. She'd always wanted to learn it.
She'd tried countless times. The best she could manage was a shapeless barrier, thin as paper, that fell apart at a touch.
Her father had told her Protego wasn't easy. That it took patience and practice.
What her cousin talked about most at home was Black's Protego. Last year's Chief challenge. That shield that could deflect another wizard's wand from across the room.
Her father had also told her that was advanced technique. Not to think about it yet.
Rosalie lifted her chin, eyes bright. "Could I learn Protego?"
The corner of Regulus's mouth curved. "You could."
He gestured for her to begin. "Cast one. Let me see."
Rosalie nodded, raised her wand, and drew a steadying breath. "Protego!"
A faint silver glow spread from her wand tip and formed a translucent barrier in front of her.
Unformed, let alone capable of defending anything.
Regulus walked forward and stood beside her. "Hold it."
She blinked, then gripped her wand tighter and poured in more power.
He raised his own wand and pointed the tip at hers.
The onlookers saw only a faint glow at his wand tip. On the level of magic, what he did was far more intricate.
His power reached out through the wand and touched the trace of Rosalie's magic.
Loose. Scattered. No direction to its cohesion.
He didn't force his way in. He gave the lightest push with his own magic, like guiding her hand to feel the correct way to channel force.
At the same time, a thread of Bellatrix's protective intent separated from the whole and flowed along the current of magic toward her barrier.
Letting her feel what protection was supposed to be.
Rosalie's spell began to change. The thin barrier's edges started drawing inward, sharpening from blurred to defined.
The color deepened from pale silver to silver-white. The surface thickened from transparent to translucent, then thicker still.
Seconds later, a Protego barrier stood solidly before her. Imperfect, but whole.
Rosalie's eyes went wide.
Gasps swept through the room.
"It actually worked?"
"That's Protego?"
A first-year blurted out, "My dad said even he can't do it. Told me to practice on my own."
Someone nearby chimed in, "You've got it easy. When my brother taught me, he just hit me with spells. Took half a year before I got it."
"What kind of method was that?"
"No idea, but it's definitely not normal."
The sixth-year Selwyn stood to the side, his expression conflicted. Learning Protego hadn't come that easily for him.
Regulus spoke to Rosalie. "Remember the feeling. Practice it on your own."
She stared at the barrier before her. The silver-white light, thicker and steadier than anything she'd ever produced.
She dropped the shield and gave a small bow. "Thank you."
Her voice held steady, but her eyes glistened.
Regulus didn't linger on it. A nod, nothing more.
He looked at Veronica.
She stepped forward and clapped her hands. "Tonight's welcome gathering is concluded. Everyone back to your dormitories."
The crowd began to disperse.
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