I wake up, greeted by a subtle interface ping:
[+1 GP earned. Current GP: 21]
I lie there, remembering what my clone got up to last night.
I raise my hand and clench it.
These abilities will help me in the long run but for now I don't want to bite more than I can chew. Therefore, I should save my GP until it reaches 30 to guarantee a rare or higher pull.
With that decision made I get out of bed and get ready for my day with some helpful household spells. I'm pretty sure I found the book Lockhart uses for his daily grooming.
I look at myself in the mirror and smirk.
"I look good. Boom, Baby!"
I swagger away and freeze as I see a disheveled Blaise look at me like an alien.
"...It's a great day to be alive, my friend!" I say cheerfully. He just groans, making my day better.
"Go get cleaned up, I'll wait for you at the Common Room with the girls."
He doesn't reply, just shuffles into the bathroom.
As I walk down the stairs my smile slowly turns into my default pureblood smirk #1. I notice the absence of the girls, but see the prefect who's name I forgot.
I walk towards him as I see him with a stack of papers.
"Rosier, here's your schedule" he says absentmindedly while not sparing me a glance. I nod and walk away.
The paper was still warm in my hands, my new class schedule, perfectly organized with just enough breathing room between Transfiguration and Potions for tea or tactical retreat.
I hadn't even finished scanning the page when a shadow passed over me.
"Rosier."
I glanced up slowly, folding the parchment once and slipping it into my inner robe pocket.
Draco Malfoy.
Flanked by Crabbe and Goyle, of course. Always two paces behind and one thought behind that.
He wore the expression of someone who'd never been told no and wasn't about to start today.
"Draco," I said politely, inclining my head slightly. "You look well. Still working on that eyebrow arch?"
His left eye twitched, but he recovered quickly. "My father said you'd be arriving this year. He speaks highly of your family."
Ah. There it was.
The Lucius name-drop. As reliable as the Hogwarts Express and half as subtle.
I gave a small, polite smile—the kind that fit perfectly on a diplomatic mask. "Yes, Mother tells me the Malfoys have been great allies of ours for generations."
I let the silence hang, just long enough for him to wonder if I meant that as a compliment… or a warning.
Draco pressed on. "We were thinking it might be smart to stay united. Proper bloodlines should look out for each other. Especially with Potter in the castle now, attracting attention he didn't earn."
Behind him, a few Slytherins were pretending not to listen.
I leaned back slightly against the couch, one leg crossed over the other, completely at ease. "Mmm, unity. A fine sentiment."
He nodded, encouraged. "Exactly."
"But here's the thing," I continued smoothly, voice quiet but clear. "I don't choose alliances like I choose cutlery. It's not about who has the longest name or the shiniest silverware. It's about who can be useful."
That made the air in the room shift.
Draco's smile faltered. "Excuse me?"
I smiled wider, friendlier. "Relax. I didn't say you weren't useful, Draco. I'm just not in the habit of signing contracts I haven't read."
A few upper-year students nearby looked over, trying, and failing, to hide their interest. One even smirked behind their book.
Draco puffed up a bit. "My father—"
"Isn't here," I cut in gently. "And while I'm sure Lucius is very good at chess, I'm not a pawn."
He stiffened, color rising in his cheeks, but before he could retort, I stood up and clapped a hand on his shoulder, light, controlled, and just enough pressure to assert something unspoken.
"Don't worry, Draco. I'm sure you'll do just fine on your own."
I gave him a casual wink and walked past him toward the girls' corner, where Tracey and Daphne had been watching the exchange like it was a Quidditch match.
"Score one for subtlety," Tracey whispered as I passed.
Daphne didn't say anything, but her lips curved faintly. Approval.
Behind me, I could feel the shift in the room, not dramatic, but noticeable. Conversations resumed with a slightly different energy. Less certainty. More interest.
For the first time, they weren't seeing me as Felix Rosier's little brother.
They were seeing me as someone else entirely.
"Did I miss something?" Blaise asks as he reaches us.
Tracey, putting her arms around my shoulder, answers, "Just Timmy here putting Malfoy in his place." She shivers slightly. "Oh, it was spectacular." giggling to herself.
I slap her arm away gently. "Don't call me Timmy or face the consequences of my dirty socks."
She mimics retching while Blaise laughs slightly.
The stone corridors echoed with laughter and footsteps as we trailed behind Tracey, chatting animatedly with Blaise about some outrageous rumor involving a second-floor toilet and a talking teacup.
Daphne and I walked in step, just behind them. The morning light slanted through the castle windows, casting long shadows that shimmered faintly against the green-trimmed stone. Tracey's laughter bounced off the walls ahead, while Blaise offered a dry comment without lifting his head.
Daphne said nothing. Neither did I. But after a few steps, I broke the silence with something soft.
"You ever notice how favors move faster than orders in this house?"
She looked at me, not startled, just interested. "Slytherin runs on transactions."
"Exactly," I said. "And you're good at keeping score."
She said nothing, but the corner of her mouth twitched. I continued.
"You don't need to lead anyone. Just be the one they go to when they need something fixed. A forgotten password. A borrowed potion vial. A quiet word with someone louder."
"And what do I ask for in return?"
"Nothing," I said. "Not yet."
She was silent again, but the idea was already sinking in. I didn't need her to say yes. Slytherins rarely did.
"And you?" she asked after a moment. "What do you get out of this?"
"I don't want influence," I said. "I want freedom. And freedom's easier to keep when someone else is keeping the floor steady."
She was quiet for a beat longer this time, then gave a faint nod. "So I build the web. You stay out of sight."
"Mostly." I glanced ahead as Tracey's voice climbed another octave. "But if someone cuts a thread too early, I'll be there."
"As a threat?"
I smiled faintly. "As a reminder."
That got a real smile from her, sharp and approving.
Ahead, Tracey shrieked something about someone's spellwork exploding in their cauldron. Blaise responded with a deadpan line that made her shove his shoulder.
We stepped out from the dungeons into a corridor flooded with golden morning light, the Great Hall looming just ahead. Our group thinned into a loose procession, first-years chattering, upper-years gliding past like they owned the place.
"Make sure you grab your schedule," I reminded Tracey as she bounded toward the massive oak doors.
"Already did," she chirped, waving the parchment like a victory banner.
Blaise gave me a look that said this early in the morning? really? but followed anyway, shrugging his robe into place as if every thread had personally offended him.
As we entered the hall, I took a breath.
And paused.
The ceiling stretched high above us, enchantments mimicking the soft roll of morning clouds and gentle shafts of sunbeams spilling down over the house tables. Candles floated lazily overhead, flickering just enough to make you question whether they were truly still. The polished stone floor reflected hints of light and shadow, and the stained glass windows shimmered as if the castle itself was waking up.
I wasn't able to appreciate the beauty last night due to the excitement, but now…
It looked like the game.
Not the movies with their darker palette and overly somber tone—but like the version I used to explore on a screen for hours. Brighter, more alive. More magical.
I smiled to myself, quiet and content. This place was meant to be beautiful.
Daphne's eyes flicked toward me, sensing the shift in my expression. I didn't say anything.
Didn't need to.
For once, I let myself enjoy it. The grandeur. The pageantry. The charm that only a castle saturated in centuries of magic could possess.
As we ate I mentally reviewed today's schedule.
Charms in the morning, followed by a free period, and History of magic in the afternoon. Not bad for our first day in magic school.
<><><><><><><>
The Charms classroom was tucked along the third floor, smaller than I expected, with tall arched windows letting in soft morning light and rows of polished wooden desks arranged in tidy columns. Shelves lined the walls, filled with books, enchanted objects, and the occasional charm that seemed to flicker or hum when you weren't looking directly at it.
Professor Flitwick stood at the front, barely taller than the desk behind him, but his presence filled the room with quiet energy. He was cheerful and bright-eyed, with a high, squeaky voice that still managed to carry authority. His robes were neat, and his wand was never far from his fingers, always ready to flick or swish with precise enthusiasm.
He greeted us with a wide smile and a bow so deep he nearly vanished behind his podium.
"Welcome to Charms! One of the most practical and delightful branches of magic," he squeaked. "By the end of the year, you'll be lighting candles, levitating feathers, and perhaps even charming your shoes to tie themselves—though I wouldn't recommend it during exams."
The class chuckled softly, but I just watched him, interested.
Small man. Big presence.
And clearly not to be underestimated.
I now understood why this was a favorite class of many. He was fun, approachable, and knowledgeable. Theory in the first class, yet he still made it fun.
I break away from my friends as the class ends. Daphne will go about making connections like a future mafia queen. Heh. Tracey will follow, needing to work extra hard to stand out. I know her easy going approach will work for her.
Blaise just wants to relax and knows I will be either studying or training and he hates sweating.
As I walk, humming, through the orante hall I admire the architectural beauty. I find an empty balcony with a view of a courtyard. I make sure no one is around and make 2 clones.
They nod my way and jump down scaling the walls with skill. They will be going to the Forbidden Forest to train our magic spells. I have many that still need polishing.
They'll be safe. They won't draw attention, and if something does go wrong… better them than me.
I head towards the hospital wing building which in the game is close to the faculty tower. I have thought thoroughly on where I could train my body now that I have gained physical skills.
The Room of Requirement is a hard pass. Voldemort is literally in Hogwarts and I don't want to risk anything while he's here. That also applies to the Undercroft which is below the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom.
That leaves one option I remember due to stressing myself out trying to find until I caved and had to google it.
The secret fireplace room that belonged to the old potion's professor. Luckily, Professors have moved away from the tower to be close to their respected Houses or classrooms.
I reach the room and unlock it with Alohomora. My stealth skills really do come in handy in avoiding people. I enter and notice it is bare with boxes blocking the fireplace. A quick levitation spell reveals the hidden passage.
I go in, up some stairs, and enter an empty room. Perfect.
"Time to see what I'm really capable of," I mutter, rolling up my sleeves as the door clicks shut behind me.