Leading the Slytherins was a sixth-year prefect named Goring Bower, who was also said to be the male Head Student. Following Goring, the first-years descended a series of floating staircases, moving ever downward. The portraits on the walls glanced at them occasionally, emitting nonsensical chuckles.
As they ventured deeper underground, they finally entered a room resembling a dungeon. At the far end of the room stood a damp stone wall. They halted before a hidden stone door embedded within it.
"Glory is my creed," Goring intoned before the stone door. A loud click sounded, and the door began to rotate, revealing the Slytherin common room to the first-years.
The room was semi-transparent, located beneath the lake, with black Gothic marble walls and a ceiling carved from crystal in the shape of a dome, allowing the shimmering waves above to be seen. Green-lit lamps dangled from chains fixed to the ceiling. Inside was a fireplace adorned with intricate carvings, surrounded by elaborately decorated chairs. Through the windows, one could occasionally glimpse a massive squid or other strange creatures.
The first-years were instructed to wait in the common room while Goring left briefly. When he returned, he was accompanied by a group of senior students. There were eleven of them in total—six girls and five boys—all with haughty expressions and scrutinizing gazes fixed on the newcomers.
"Alright," Goring clapped his hands to get their attention. "As you can see, these people are our Slytherin 'hidden prefects.' Unlike the official prefects appointed in fifth year by Hogwarts, Slytherin selects a prefect for each year through internal duels. The winner of these duels earns the title of prefect for their year. Standing before you are the undisputed duel champions of their respective years. Now, are you ready, first-years?"
The designated dueling area was a conspicuous empty circle in the room. However, none of the first-years stepped forward, their silence betraying their reluctance to be the first to enter the fray. For many of the muggle-born students, even mastering the simplest spells remained a challenge—let alone engaging in a duel.
"Is this year's batch of first-years really this useless?" scoffed one of the eleven, a pale-faced boy with wild hair. "Aren't there supposed to be students from the Julius and Malfoy families among them? Where are they?"
All eyes turned toward Draco Malfoy and Augustus Julius. Under the weight of those stares, Malfoy hesitated, his expression turning uncertain as he glanced at Augustus, as if waiting for him to take the lead.
With a resigned shrug, Augustus stepped forward into the dueling circle.
Finally, someone had stepped up. Encouraged, the other first-years began murmuring among themselves. Soon, a boy named Moryn stepped into the circle to face Augustus.
"Alright," Goring said from the edge of the circle. "On my count of three, the duel begins. Ready? One, two, three—begin!"
As Goring's voice fell, Moryn raised his wand, muttering an incantation. But before he could finish, a silver light shot out from Augustus's wand and struck him squarely in the chest. The force flung Moryn out of the circle, leaving a petrified statue of him lying on the ground with a resounding thud.
"Was that… silent casting?" gasped one of the eleven, a red-haired girl with a delicate face. "Could it be that first-years now are capable of silent casting already?" Her astonishment mirrored the dropped jaws and frozen stares of the others.
"Ahem." Goring coughed awkwardly, trying to regain composure. "Well done, Mr. Julius, for demonstrating your remarkable talent for silent casting. As for Moryn… unfortunately, he's been eliminated. Now, who will challenge next?"
The red-haired girl cast a bemused glance at Augustus, standing calmly in the center of the circle. Smiling faintly, she turned her gaze toward the other first-years. It was clear—challenging someone capable of such advanced magic at this age was practically suicide.
"I say we make Augustus the first-year hidden prefect," Draco declared smugly after a pause, his voice ringing out as he surveyed the group. "I doubt anyone would oppose, right?"
Seeing that no one dared step forward, Goring glanced around at the cowed first-years and sighed. It seemed this year's selection would end earlier than usual. He was about to announce the result when Augustus spoke.
"Prefect Goring, I'd like to make another suggestion. Before you announce the result, I'd like to challenge all of the so-called 'duel champions.' Of course, if I lose, feel free to pick another prefect," Augustus said, his voice calm but firm.
The room fell silent. The air seemed to thicken with disbelief. The first-years and upper-years alike stared at Augustus as if he had lost his mind. Challenge all eleven hidden prefects—each one a dueling master, each representing Slytherin's elite?
Draco's eyes widened as he stared at Augustus's small but resolute frame. A strange fervor ignited in him. In that moment, Augustus's calm demeanor and fearless stance began to align with a shadow in Draco's imagination—someone who had once cast a dark, unforgettable storm over the wizarding world.
"Battle!" Draco whispered, his fists clenched in anticipation.
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