Morning arrived with an unnecessary noise.
CRACK.
My eyes opened to unfamiliar dimness, green light filtering faintly through the stone beyond the walls. For a moment, I did not move. My body felt heavy, my mind sluggish.
"The master is awake and still lying in bed."
Tweak's voice was chiding and amused.
I turned my head slightly.
She stood at the edge of my bed, hands on her hips, expression pinched in something between disappointment and authority she had absolutely no right possessing.
Behind her, another elf struggled under the weight of a small wooden table he was levitating. The table was laden with food far too elaborate for a morning, or lunch for that matter
"…Good morning," I said, voice rough.
"Not good," Tweak replied immediately. "The room is clean. Clothes are properly folded. The master slept and didn't even leave an abandoned sock to Tweak to clean."
I blinked at her." Are you angry at me because I did not leave a mess?" I asked bewildered.
"Yes," she said sharply. "Young master should be more messy, like other kids are." She said and glanced at the other elf from the corner of her eye then widened her eyes for me.
I just stared at her bewilderedly, still half asleep and not at all sharp and rested as I usually am in the morning. My mind was more foggy than it had ever been.
She tilted her head twice towards the other elf and stared meaningfully. I stared back then finally remembered what she said yesterday.
"Excuse me for my manners, but in my defence I am very tired. Granted that is not usual for me. Nevertheless my name is Alexander Hawthorn and who might you be?" I asked the unknown elf
The second elf set the table down with a soft thud, gave Tweak a nervous glance before he squealed " I is Tilly, youngmaster" she said and glanced Tweak even more nervously,as if talking to her master would set the elf off somehow.
"Good morning Tilly,might I inquire about the room that comes and goes since I have been informed that I need its services sooner rather than later"
Tilly jumped from one leg to another in excitement" Tilly can sirsi, yes yes. Room that comes and goes is to be found in the highest high floors."
She gestured upwards then looked at me sternly" if young master sees sky above, yous went too far!come down from the roof!" She said with a finger waggling at me.
I just nodded solemnly as if it was sage advice from an elder.
"thank you Tilly, anything else to note the location of the room?"
She looked at me for a few more seconds to make sure I really knew not to go to the roof. "Yes sirsi, there do be a tapestry of silly wizard looking at dancing trolls," she said with a giggle." Trolls have pink dresses on" she whispered scandalously and gave out a giggle again.
*cough* was heard from Tweaks direction. Apparently Tilly was talking too much and so Tweak stared at Tilly with narrowed eyes.
Tilly gave a squeak and vanished with a quiet pop, clearly unwilling to remain in whatever this was supposed to be.
I pushed myself upright slowly.
"You brought…breakfast, apparently to the whole Slytherin house." I said changing the subject as smoothly as my addled mind allowed.
"Of course not, this is just for the master," Tweak said, as if I had insulted her by such silliness. "Master requires fuel. The brain clearly needs help"
I exhaled through my nose.
it's far too early to argue with her.
My gaze shifted to the table.
Eggs. Toast. Something that might have been a basket full of bacon. Tea. several different fruits. More than necessary, more than I have ever seen. Is that a whole apple pie? That is definitely a whole chicken.
I stared a bit horrified at what she expected me to eat in the morning.
"You didn't need help carrying that." I said and took some toast and apple juice she had brought to take my focus away from the massive spread of food.
"I didn't," she said smoothly.
Then, with a small, satisfied smirk:
"But the master needed help learning."
Tweak perked slightly at that—then immediately composed herself, clasping her hands together with exaggerated patience.
"Tweak can't tell you about the room that comes and goes, but now that you know we can talk about it all we want." she said with a self satisfied nod.
She stepped closer, lowering her voice slightly—not conspiratorial, but precise.
"The room that comes and goes," she said, "it is not found by accident master, only those in real need will find it"
I listened carefully to the toast frozen halfway to my mouth.
"Master must pass it," she continued, pacing now in small steps, demonstrating what she meant "Three times."
A finger raised.
"While focusing clearly on your need"
Another.
"do not let your mind wander, you don't need the room of lost things. Not today master"
"…A defined intent" I said slowly.
She beamed.
"Yes! Defined want. Strong need or desire."
My mind was finally starting to move at its usual pace, although I could feel resistance of sorts.
Books,knowledge, self control and most importantly for me right now. Mind arts.
My thoughts sharpened, narrowing instinctively toward a single line.
I needed— Stability, whatever it is that is clouding my mind. I need to fix it.
My fingers tightened slightly against the edge of the table Tilly brought
"…And it will provide?" I asked.
Tweak tilted her head.
"If Hogwarts thinks the master is in need of it"
"Where?"
She smiled again, this time smaller.
"Tilly just told you silly"
I exhaled slowly, then reached for the tea. Warm, strong and grounding.
oh she did indeed, I'm either really tired or there's really something in my mind hindering me.
"…You arranged this." I asked and sipped my tea, eyeing the apple pie and considering taking a slice
"Yes," she said proudly and waved her fingers like waving goodbye and the pie sliced itself,jumped on a plate that instantly started to float towards me.
One small spoon hastily chased the plate as if late from the train.
"To help the master fix his head before it breaks more."
I paused mid-sip.
"…So I'm not just tired, am I Tweak?"I whispered.
I couldn't feel anything. No horror or revulsion, nothing at all. That alarmed
"No master and yes master. You're carrying too much for one vessel. You need to fix the issue before you can start building once more."
I took a bite of the applepie, chewing slowly as I thought.
The memories I got, that sense of age, that Merlin tv show moment, very near a vision or a memory so vivid because it had been visited a thousand times, Harry,this weird sense of distance and ability to focus more than I ever could before the letter. I was good no doubt compared to kids my age but my focus has been on another level since then.
I glanced down at my tea cup, it was empty. I had finished my tea as I thought about all the discrepancies till now.
All the things I just accepted or ignored in my panic. My need to get more knowledge and get to know the new world better. I set the cup down and looked at Tweak.
"When do classes start?"
Tweak didn't hesitate.
"Soon enough that master should already be moving."
I nodded once.
"Then I'll go immediately"
She smiled and nodded.
The corridors were not empty even if it were early.
Students I saw moved in pairs or alone like me, voices low, steps measured. The castle had not fully woken, but it was no longer asleep either. It existed in that strange in-between state where everything felt slightly muted, as if the walls themselves were still deciding whether to listen.
walking alone might've been strange since I was just a first year but I had no choice, besides I wasn't really alone.
it was just how it appeared. If I focused, I could feel her.
Tweak was there with me, she was invisible, guiding me a few steps ahead.
"Do not look straight at me," her voice came.
Soft and close to my ear, though she was still a few paces in front of me "master will make it obvious."
gotta learn that voice trick, it's going to be handy one day.
"I'm not an idiot," I murmured under my breath.
A pause.
"…Debatable," came the amused whisper again right to my ear.
Left turn. Then right. A staircase I had not taken before. Then a corridor that seemed far less used.
We even took a secret passage that was more than a little confusing. You had to pretend and believe that the wall you had in front of you was a door and the door knob would appear as you were turning it to open.
The light is softer, less golden, more subdued. The walls were the same stone, Fewer portraits, quite a few more windows that brought in the morning light
I slowed slightly. as I saw a massive tapestry of a wizard and trolls.
"Barnabas the Barmy, teaching trolls ballet" said the plaque at the bottom
I turned around and stared at the walls around it and opposite it, no doors or portraits. A couple of windows but who knows if they're real or enchantments of some form or the other.
I can feel Tweak just standing a few feet away, no longer moving forward so I guess we are her. So what is it I need?Hmm perhaps keep it simple like I need to fix myself?
I shrugged to myself and started to walk past it.
One pass.
Nothing.
Just a corridor.
I turned at the end, retracing my steps.
Second pass.
I tried to focus solely on "fixing myself".
My thoughts shifted, sharpened.
I walked the corridor again.
Third pass.
This time I did not look around.
I held the thought firmly
I need a place to fix my mind
I stopped suddenly. I could feel something on my left.
Slowly turned my head.
where there had been only stone, now was a door.
It looked plain and unremarkable, like a dozen similar ones on this hallway alone.
Wood set into stone as though it had always been there and I had simply failed to notice it.
It had a simple handle.
There were no magical displays of power, it suddenly just was present.
I stared at it for a moment.
Then reached out.
My fingers hovered just before the surface.
"…This is it," I said quietly.
"Yes," Tweak replied, somewhere just behind my shoulder now.
"Master did well."
I exhaled slowly. Just a quiet, solid certainty settling into place.
Of course it worked. Magic followed rules too. Even if those rules were… different.
"…If I open this," I said, "it will provide me what I asked for."
A small silence filled the hallway
Then:
"It will give the master what the master needs in its own capabilities." Tweak answered
I placed my hand against the door.
Lets hope this is not some broomcloset
The door opened silently, I expected more on the side of creaking hinges and darkness but no the room was a bit bare but warm and inviting in a way.
The room was smaller than expected.
A single comfy looking leather armchair stood at its center. It was turned towards a huge thing covered up with a fabric. A lit fireplace warmed the room on the left of the armchair.
I stepped inside.
The door closed behind me without sound.
I noticed a book on the chair. For a moment further I did not move.
Then I forced myself to approach the chair and the book. I picked up the book.
"Confronting Yourself: Foundation Before Mind Arts — A Manual." .
Appropriate.
I set it on the side table that appeared as I was lowering the book,Then I sat down on the armchair and looked at the covered thing.
It was not difficult to figure out what it was and I was indeed correct as the fabric started to smoothly rise from the frame of a huge mirror.
The mirror had no decorations. The mirror showed me as I was.
Young and tired, also slightly thinner than I should be.
But that wasn't what held my attention.
it was the fact that my reflected self started to fade away.
The chairs' leather felt cold and the room remained utterly silent.
I kept looking at the mirror. The mirror that did not reflect me anymore, the armchair I sat in was empty.
Clack,clack,clack came the steps, they sounded so loud in the silent room.
I glanced around a bit worried but I was alone in the room. Then I looked back into the mirror and saw a figure sit down on the chair
The mirror did not reflect me. The man could have easily been my brother or father.
He was older, much older than I was. Probably in his early thirties.
"So, it wasn't just memories I got, was it?" I said quietly.
The reflection tilted its head slightly. Not mocking,or hostile.
More like acknowledging and agreeing with me.
"You figured it out faster than expected, magic being real for you, probably helped to accept the reality of it all" it said.
His voice and way to talk. It was my voice.
Steadier, more selfassured and yes way older.
"I haven't really been myself, not from the time I got the letter. Was that your doing? " I asked.
I studied him closely
He looked tired, more than tired. Sick even, as he thought about how to reply to me.
"In a way, but I have been here since your birth Alexander. I didn't come with the letter like some Trojan virus."
He chuckled to his own words, I didn't really understand what he meant though so I just sat and stared.
I looked at him trying to hide my nervousness. " Can you explain the flood of memories or knowledge when I got the letter? You knew about Hogwarts, did you study here too?"
The older man smiled and shook his head" I did know about Hogwarts,and no I did not study there. Why doesn't matter, we aren't here to add more useless baggage to your already heavy bag. I decided long ago that if I ever had to leave, I would not burden you with too much.." he said with a hard, stubborn, expression on his face that I was far too familiar with.
Silence stretched between us,it wasn't uncomfortable but all the questions I wanted to ask and wont get to just felt heavy.
"You're fading," I said. I could see the truth, reflected in his eyes and slightly hunched posture.
"Yes." he nodded
No denial, just a fact.
"Good." I bite out more aggressively than I meant but he didn't seem to mind
A faint flicker of approval passed through its expression as he smiled crookedly
"Agreed."
I leaned back slightly.
"Then let's not waste time."
He smiled at me, then nodded
"Sure, the only reason I kept holding on to this long was to give you a few parting gifts," he said. He looked at my surroundings and then back at me" I guess this is the Room of Requirement? Good. It was one of the first things I meant to tell you about. Do not waste its potential and learn what you need"
He said with a lecturing tone, it made me think he was a teacher or at least had done some teaching at some point enough to learn mannerism like one.
"You don't want everything." he continued as if I had protested about not getting to know everything he knew" not all I know might even be true where you are and not all knowledge is good for you"
True, but he makes it sound like he isn't from here?
"You keep what is useful," the older me continued." My perspective has served you well and aided more than hindered"
He smiled at me" I can see your full of questions so please ask a few but understand I wont answer if I feel the answer to be harmful or something you should find out for yourself."
The man stilled and kept looking at me patiently
Then shifted—closer somehow, though he or the chair did not move.
"One thing you should know," it said as I stayed silent and just watched it carefully.
"Voldemort is not gone, he will return," he continued. as I did not react.
"And when he does, he will go after Harry Potter. Do with that information as you will." He said with a small smile. Clearly knowing already what I was going to do.
I was already aware of something big and terrible was coming, now I just had a name for it. " Timeline?" I asked.
He nodded approvingly.
"Soon enough. That's all I can say for sure. Things aren't carved to the stone as it were. Things can change,go faster or slower, hell it might slip on sideways all I know. If I were you though" He smirked and winked" I wouldn't waste my time on academic excellence,it is not required to survive.
I nodded once, fully agreeing with him. I was already planning to do the bare minimum school work and none of the work when the words " voluntary or extra credit" were anywhere near.
"Anything else?"
A silence fell once more. Longer this time.
Then an uncharacteristic smirk widened on his face " in a few years from now there will be a Quidditch world cup, Ireland should win but Bulgaria's seeker will catch the snicth, I believe this will should give you some compensation for the worry I caused," he said smiling self-deprecatingly " that is, if you bet on it."
He took a pondering stance, his hand rubbing his chin in a way I was almost certain was just for show rather than an actual habit. " I think, If the match is held in England, and happens between Ireland and Bulgaria," He started " Also if the Bulgarian team's seeker is a boy named Victor, it's safe to bet on this outcome. You know the risks of such ventures, so be smart."
I studied, him. Well myself, the version that had I had been, or would have been somewhere and some time. Not here though and not this time.
"You're letting go," was all I managed to respond.
"Yes, your recent flexing of your magical muscles so to speak, has grown your magic in a way it started eroding whatever I am. Ironic isn't it, a few days and your mind issues would have been gone anyway."
I sighed" well its better this way anyway, I get to know some things I wouldn't have otherwise known, and a headstart on my plans"
He gave a faint warm smile "Live better than I did."
And then he was gone, the reflection blurred for an instant.
When it cleared up,the mirror showed just me.
I noted that the boy in the mirror was crying silently. I closed my eyes that mysteriously felt too hot to keep open, and vehemently focused inside.
I could feel a warm current flowing from my head, down my neck to my chest and all the way down to my toes.
My mind was clearer, my magic felt more abundant and more malleable.
I exhaled slowly and slowly opened my eyes,I watched the fabric lowering to cover the mirror again, after fully covering the mirror they both vanished like a mirage.
I sighed then thought of leaving, but my gaze found the book on the small side table, and I decided to take a look before leaving.
one look couldn't hurt.
I thought and reached for the book.
The book did not open, and felt like one solid brick at first. Slowly the cover started to rise as I just sat there with the book in my lap. I tried to read what it said on the first page but the lines were blurred. I could perhaps read a word here and there but it all stayed utterly without a meaning.
I closed the book forcefully, closed my eyes and counted to ten.
Then it opened again slower this time.
"Confronting Yourself: Foundation Before Mind Arts — A Manual."
There was no mention of an author of any kind which felt appropriate so I moved further and turned the page.
"Human cognition does not present itself as a unified authority. It produces, in most cases, a continuous stream of internal narration—commentary, evaluation, anticipation, and reaction. This narration is so consistent in tone and so immediate in its appearance that it is ordinarily accepted as identical with the self. The individual does not distinguish between the act of thinking and the presence of a thinker. The voice speaks, and therefore it is assumed to be you.
For the purposes of Mind Arts, this assumption must be discarded."
I read the first page and stopped to ponder about it.
So it suggested that, to truly command my magic, I first had to command my own mind. Otherwise, I risked being… displaced.
If my magic followed something other than deliberate thought—something instinctive, reactive—My ego.
Or worse, some unconscious pattern forming its own will beneath the surface.
Something that could act without me.
I felt a chill at that. Not that I intended to delve into the dark arts—but it didn't seem like the sort of thing that required intent to become dangerous.
It would explain, quite neatly, why so many wizards were… off.
Why isn't mind arts mandatory in the wizarding world?
I skipped a few chapters and searched for the start on how to establish the foundation. Soon a chapter caught my eye.
On Memory and Form
"Memory gives form. Magic makes it real."
You have likely heard this saying before; it is common enough to be dismissed as a platitude. In the context of mind arts, however, few statements hold more truth.
Memory is not merely recollection,it is structure and its identity.
It is the architecture upon which all inner workings are built.
If the foundation of the mind is to endure, it must be constructed from truth.
Not the objective truth of the world but your truth.
Consider the following:
You find your brother standing beside your mother's broken teacup—her favorite. You take the blame and are punished.
That moment, preserved in memory, may take many forms.
It may become a good memory—an act of quiet protection, a choice made out of care.
Or it may become a bitter one—the beginning of resentment, the first stone in a long road of being used as a scapegoat.
The event itself does not change. The meaning does.
Perspective defines structure.
In reality, the cup may have already been broken before your brother arrived. It may have been accidental magic. Your mother, had she known, might have repaired it without anger—despite her distaste for magically restored objects.
But none of this matters.
Not here.
Not at the foundation.
When you begin shaping your mind, you are not working with what happened. You are working with what remained.
And what remains is how you understood it.
Thus, when laying the first stones of your inner world, you must examine each piece carefully.
Not to determine whether it is factually correct.
But to understand what it is to you.
What it has become.
Because a foundation built from unexamined memory is unstable. The mind will reject what it does not recognize as its own, and the structure will fail—whether immediately or in time.
This process, then, is not one of correction.
It is one of recognition.
You must see yourself clearly—both the admirable and the unworthy, the beautiful and the flawed—and accept that all of it is yours.
Only then will the foundation hold.
I stared at the last part in deep thought, then I slowly closed the book and thought about it some more.
This is enough for now, it is pointless to go further until I have actually built my foundation.
I gave a sigh and glance the book once noted a sentence on the back of the book
"You cannot stabilize what you do not understand." It proclaimed and I smiled at that and lowered the book and got up. I put my hands in my pants pockets and walked towards the door.
It's been ages since I kept my hands in my pockets, it must have been years by now. Matron Josephine told us we aren't rock stars or lobbyists to walk around our hands in pockets like we actually had things to hide.
I chuckled at the memory
Perhaps it's time to revisit some of my pruned habits that the orphanage didn't approve of. Also lets add one more thing to my evening routine, some meditative brick laying
I opened the door and saw immediately Tweak, she was a bit see through so I stopped and stared.
"Tweak, why are you seethrough?" I asked bewildered
I could see her eyes widening, she looked even more excited than she did when I took her as my elf.
"Master Hawthorn can see me, even now? Is that true? You're not trying to trick me? feeling where I am,is different from seeing me, what am I doing Master"
She asked excitedly then she moved on to the left and did a handstand and waved to me with the other hand so she was very impressively doing a handstand on one hand and waving at me.
So I told her what I saw.
"Hehe my master can see through the elf veil, that is amazing." She giggled proudly like it was her own achievement
Oh she's still invisible. Then how can I see her?
Tweak straightened from her handstand, landing lightly on her feet, still looking far too pleased with herself.
"Master Hawthorn can see through the elf veil," she repeated, almost reverently. "That is a valuable skill."
"I gathered as much," I said dryly. "Care to explain why?"
She tilted her head, studying me more seriously now.
"Master's mind…" she began, choosing her words carefully, "…has been full of magic for too long."
I frowned slightly.
"That is hardly helpful."
Tweak ignored the tone.
"Magic does not only flow in spells, master. It settles. It seeps. It lingers where it is used often." She tapped her temple. "Especially here."
I tilted my head, and his voice came to mind.
"I have been here since your birth Alexanders"
No wonder I did not perform any accidental magic, I was holding him back for all this time.
Tweak's voice brought me back from my musings
"You have been using your mind to fight something," she continued. "Something inside. Beast, ghost or a shade I do not know what it was, but you held it. Pressed it down. Contained it."
That… was uncomfortably accurate.
"And in doing so," she went on, "you pushed magic through your mind again and again."
I crossed my arms slowly.
"And the result is?"
Tweak's grin returned, sharp and delighted.
"Mage sight."
I blinked.
"…That sounds like something that should not happen to a first-year." I said dubiously.
"It doesn't," she said cheerfully. "Usually takes years. Deliberately channeling Spells without using incantation or wand movements. Practicing mind arts. Deliberate control on your mana flows and you might develop Mage sight. Note that you only might develop it, there's no guarantee"
A pause.
"Or," she added, "extreme and very unlikely circumstances."
Of course.
I exhaled slowly.
"So I can see… magic?" I confirmed
"Yes," she said simply.
She gestured vaguely around us.
I glanced around as and noted that the whole castle seemed to have a dim glow.
"Invisibility is magic. Illusions are magic. Wards are magic. Hard to hide when the thing hiding you is visible. Although I have heard of some people rumored to be able to hide from mage sight."
She said with a thoughtful look.
"That explained it well enough." I said "…And this is safe?" I confirmed.
Tweak hesitated.
"…It is," she said, "provided the master does not stand out."
I inclined my head. I wasn't in a position to afford that.
Not like I was going to advertise it.
"For now," I said, more to myself than to her.
Tweak nodded, as if that settled the matter entirely.
"Now," she clapped her hands once, bright again, "master should return before other students wake properly."
Fair.
"Lead the way," I said
slightly amused by the fact that if someone saw me talking to a tapestry I might be as famous or more likely in my case,infamous as Harry potter in no time.
The return felt shorter.
Not because it was—but because I paid less attention to the path and more to what I could now perceive.
There were… traces.
Faint distortions in the air. Threads, almost. Residual magic clinging to surfaces, to corners, to staircases worn by centuries of use.
"Why isn't the whole castle glowing like a sun to me?" I asked, lowering my voice once I made sure we were alone. "It's obviously magical."
Tweak chuckled.
"Oh, silly master—there is always a shadow beneath the lamp." She clasped her hands behind her back. "If you were outside Hogwarts, it might indeed blind you. Or at the very least, hurt your eyes."
A small pause.
Although Hogwarts is incredibly kind to its children,so perhaps not."
She explains it like the castle is more of a doting parent than a magical place I and most of the wizards see it as.
We walked in silence a few more hallways, then when I started to look around to recognize the correct wall to enter the House common room.
I heard her whisper "Master does not need to remember a specific path or count bricks." Tweak said as we descended once more into the colder stone corridors.
"Oh?"
She nodded.
"Only the dungeon level."
I glanced at her.
"The entrance is smart you see," she said, as if explaining something obvious to a particularly slow child. "Dungeon level two belongs to first-years. The House responds to its own."
I slowed slightly.
"You mean…" I hesitated
"Any wall," she said simply.
That stopped me entirely.
"…You're serious."
Tweak gave me a look, like I was really slower than I had any place to be.
"Salazar Slytherin was not an idiot, master. One entrance is a weakness. Many entrances, hidden and shifting. Now that is a plan worthy of a fox let alone snake"
Of course he would.
I exhaled, amused.
"So all I need to do is be on the correct level…"
"Of course you need to know the password, and belong to the House" she added quickly,
"Oh and visitors are always escorted to that specific piece of wall, it's to keep the secret and to just annoy them since it's quite far from..well from everything" Tweaks voice giggled to my ear and I suppressed a smile.
Right, if I bet not that many outside the house know about this perhaps none at all.
"That's … actually clever. Are there separate floors for second year and older students?"
Tweak beamed.
"Dungeon level three is for second to fourth and last one is for fifth to seventh years, although they can use your entrances too if they like. Mostly they just don't, it's apparently not appropriate for their standing."
Tweak gossiped with a happy smile, that I could see with my new ability.
"It's the Slytherin way." She added with a nod, I was a bit startled since she said that outloud instead of that whisper spell she has been using till now.
I smiled too.
Perhaps these are my kind of people after all.
The common room entrance let me in without issue and as I entered Tweak winked at me and vanished.
The wall didn't perform any theatrics this time—no shifting seams, no grand reveal.
Then again, it wasn't even the same wall. That might have been the reason.…Or the prefect simply enjoyed making an impression.
I had decided to test what Tweak said.
On the first dungeon level, I chose a random stretch of stone and placed my hand against it. For a moment, nothing happened.
I focused, trying to guide magic into my arm—then outward, through touch and into the wall. All the while chanting the password in my mind like a mantra.
It seemed worth attempting.If the entrance truly responded to magic and intent, then a wand shouldn't be necessary.
And if that was true—coming and going would become much faster and convenient.
So wand isn't necessary just my magic and password
I thought as I touched the wall,
Slytherin is a terrible password but otherwise neat work.
Students were beginning to move now—boys and girls drifting through the common room with their school bags slung over their shoulders.
Some were already dressed. Some half-awake. Some pretended not to watch each other, while very clearly doing exactly that.
I moved to my bed without pause. The headboard let me in as smoothly as it had yesterday, and inside, my room was exactly as I had left it.
Good. I had hoped for a place that was truly mine—not just one that appeared to be.
I began gathering what I needed. Books. Parchment. A fountain pen—and a few quills, in case the pen wasn't allowed. Just the essentials.
I turned toward the bed to set everything down—and froze.
…I hadn't bought a bag.
So here I stood, in a magical school, arms full of books and supplies, with absolutely nowhere to put them.
I chided myself for the oversight.
A familiar tension crept up the back of my neck. Panic—sharp, immediate, and entirely unnecessary.
Then—
A thought, a sliver of hope I grabbed with both proverbial hands
"Tweak!"
I didn't quite shout, but it was close. My voice was oddly high pitched.
Crack.
She appeared beside me, already looking around as if expecting danger.
"Master called? What can I do to help?"
I hesitated, suddenly very aware of how ridiculous this was.
"…I seem to have forgotten to acquire a school bag."
I could feel the embarrassment and heat flushing to my cheeks.
Tweak blinked once, then a slow smile spread on her face that brightened her whole being to a ridiculous level .
"Oh. Is that all? Wait a moment, I will get one."
CRACK.
She vanished, and barely a few seconds later—
CRACK.
She reappeared, holding a black leather satchel with silvery lining. It looked… expensive. Far too expensive.
I narrowed my eyes slightly.
"Tweak… this looks far too nice to be something casually misplaced. Did you steal it?"
I tried not to sound accusatory.
But the question needed asking.
Tweak straightened, both proud and faintly offended.
"No, master. It is not stolen." She lifted her chin slightly. "I retrieved it from the room of lost things."
She gave a small, knowing wag of her finger.
"This is a school for young witches and wizards, master," she added, as if that explained everything. "Things lost here are… varied. In value, in purpose, in usefulness."
She lifted the satchel slightly.
"Can master see the rune of ownership here? It is not active. Look."
She was right to my new sight, it was just an inert rune—present, but empty. No mana flowing through it.
I nodded.
"There are no fewer than six family grimoires somewhere in Hogwarts that no one has ever tried to summon home." A small pause. "Likely because there is no home left to summon them to."
She glanced around fondly, then back at me.
"This place is old, master." A faint, pleased smile touched her lips. "And wealthy… in very strange ways."
I nodded again, more certain this time.
"How do I activate the rune? Just push my magic into it?"
Tweak nodded, her ears flapping sharply with the motion.
"Yes, master. Blood is also an option, but it is… more permanent." She wrinkled her nose slightly. "Magic will do, if you use it often enough. Ownership fades if the object remains away from you for long periods. Blood-linked does not. Not while the master lives."
I nodded in understanding and pushed a small amount of magic into the rune.
It flashed—just once—but to my sight it was unmistakable and it started a cascade of enchantments that came alive beneath the surface.
Beautiful.
There had to be at least half a dozen woven into it.
It likely cost more than my trunk had—even before the discount. I noticed my initials were being woven into the satchels inner flap as I watched. Lastly there was even a slytherin emblem underneath my initials.
it must have taken me half a minute to tear my gaze from it.
When I finally stopped gawking at my new satchel and thanked Tweak for her invaluable help I felt I was nearing the point of being late from breakfast and felt oddly hungry even though I ate already just an hour before.
" you very welcome master "
She said and disappeared with a small
pop
unlike her usual cracking noises.
When I stepped back out, my satchel on my shoulder filled with all the school books since I didn't know what I needed. lucky for me feather light must have been one of the enchantments since the satchel barely weighs anything even now.
The common room felt crowded and louder now. People were talking more on the normal volume, not just whispering.
Malfoy seemed to be trying to bribe an upper year student for something. Judging from the way he was showing clinking small moneybag underneath his nose, and looking around like a cartoon villain.
I kept walking towards the exit ignoring the eyes that weren't looking at me but whose attention seemed to linger on me nonetheless
Conversations that paused just slightly as I passed.
The walk to the Great Hall was less silent than before.
Small groups formed naturally. Conversations started, stopped, shifted.
I did not seek anyone out. I had too much to think about and little interest in playing politics this early,if it wasn't necessary.
"Alexander, wasn't it?"
I turned slightly already cursing myself for thinking I could stay separated and brood on my thoughts.
A Slytherin boy—one I recognized from the night before, though his name escaped me—had matched my pace.
"That's right," I said evenly.
He nodded once.
"You found your room without issue?"
"I did."
A brief pause.
"Good," he said. "Some don't so I was just making sure, apparently one of the first years slept in the dormitory."
He said amused as well as inquiring.
Fishing for information I see, Although why is beyond me this is utterly pointless gossip but when in Rome I guess.
" Ah is that so, I believe I should point you to direction of Mr.Malfoy his two constant companions looked to be few sparks short of a firecracker so it might have been either of them" I told him with a genial smile
His eyes lit up and he smirked" ah yes I know the two fellows you're referring to, I just might do that, thank you very much. If you come upon such tidbits later, remember me, my name is Lawrenche Whittemore, of the noble house of Whittemore. I'm a third year but you can call me Lawrence"
"Its pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr Whittemore I am Alexander Hawthorn as you already know, but you can keep calling me Alexander" I responded
We spoke a little more after that. Nothing important. Observations. Carefully neutral ground. and he pointed out a few secret passages as we went cleanly paying back even the minor information nugget I gave him. He was incredibly sharp even though he acted all friendly and oblivious to the gazes of other Slytherins.
alright so there's no late sleepers in Slytherin, got it.
I thought,feeling exhausted already and the day barely begun.
Others joined briefly to talk with him and to take a closer look at me and what I was wearing as well as my satchel then left again.
I responded as needed. Polite, measured but present.
Never invested thought and I never offered any information at all.
The Great Hall was already alive when we arrived.
The ceiling reflected a pale morning sky. Light filtered down across the long tables, catching on silverware and polished wood.
Food was already set.
And despite everything I had eaten earlier—
I was hungry.
Not for a small bite, but with the hollow insistence of someone who hadn't eaten in days.
I sat.
Filled my plate with whatever was within reach and began to eat.
And as I did, I listened.
Names. Alliances forming in miniature. First impressions hardening into something more permanent.
I spotted Tracy eating with Daphne, set slightly apart from most of the girls in our year—who seemed to be gathering around a pug-nosed girl that kept glancing toward Malfoy every few seconds.
Slytherin did not waste time.
"Mr. Hawthorn."
A silky voice cut cleanly through the noise.
I looked up.
Professor most likely—our Head of House—stood at the edge of the table, black robes still as shadow. His long, greasy hair framed a face that might as well have been carved from stone.
That much emotion he showed.
He held a small stack of parchment.
I stood immediately and gave a small, polite bow.
"Yes, sir."
His eyes flicked over me briefly.
Assessing. Measuring.
Then he handed me a single sheet.
"Your schedule."
I took it, not batting a eye.
"Thank you, sir."
He paused. His gaze lingered a fraction longer than necessary.
Then—
"See that you are not late."
"Yes, sir."
He moved on without another word.
I sat back down and unfolded the parchment.
Classes,locations and professor names.
Normal.
Structured.
Predictable.
My fingers tightened slightly around the edge of it.
better keep my head on straight today. Be extra vigilant, since I might mess up much easier than I normally would.
The day passed.
I made sure to stay among familiar faces at all times—so as not to get lost, or stand out.
I attended my classes. Sat somewhere in the middle. Listened. Observed.
I answered when directly asked, and admitted honestly when I didn't know. There was no need to pretend otherwise. It was my first day, after all.
After lunch, I felt my magic receding from my head, and with it, my mage sight faded.
Gone.
I exhaled sharply.
Stupid.
I could probably control it—like any other mana-driven effect. My body had simply grown used to keeping my mind saturated with magic because of… that.
I let out a sigh, The list was growing faster than I could keep track of.
Still—after eating, I felt more stable. Clearer even. Without my mage sight slowly draining me, focusing became easier.
which was a good thing since transfiguration was not a place to be absentminded.
Professor McGonagall proved to be exactly as described. Strict and precise. No one expected her to be sitting on her desk in the form of a cat when we entered.
Damn I need to see if I can become an animagus, that is way too amazing a talent to not try to achieve, it's been one day and my list is growing longer by the minute.
No one expected her to be sitting on her desk in the form of a cat when we entered.
She transformed mid-air—fluid, controlled—and immediately set upon Harry Potter and his red-haired friend for arriving late.
My mind was… quieter. I was excited, sure but my mind wasn't bouncing around like it used to.
By the time evening approached, I already knew what I would be doing with my time this first few weeks.
Not socializing more than it is necessary to be still counted as one of the Slytherin House. Sadly no exploring the castle either.
Building the foundations of my mind one brick at a time would take time but learning everything else should become easier later on, so better me to play the long game in the bright new world of mine.