POV : Arcturus
The train whistle pierced the air at Platform 9¾, signaling the final moments before departure. Arcturus Regulus Black stood at the edge of the bustling crowd, his sharp features impassive as he adjusted his trunk and the cage holding his sleek, black owl, Morpheus. The platform teemed with students, parents, and younger siblings, all caught in the chaotic mix of laughter, shouts, and last-minute farewells.
He was alone, as he preferred. The Black name carried a weight he neither welcomed nor could ignore, and he saw little value in the obligatory goodbyes exchanged by others. Instead, he stepped onto the train and began his search for an empty compartment.
It didn't take long for him to find one that was sparsely occupied. Two girls were seated inside: one with fiery red hair and freckles that marked her as unmistakably a Weasley, and the other a pale, ethereal blonde with a dreamy expression that gave her an otherworldly air.
"Mind if I join?" Arcturus asked, his tone neutral but polite.
The red-haired girl glanced at him, her brown eyes narrowing slightly in assessment before she shrugged. "Go ahead. Plenty of room."
The blonde girl smiled serenely. "Of course. There's always room for one more, don't you think?"
Arcturus inclined his head in thanks and slid the door shut behind him. As he settled into the seat across from them, the redhead spoke up.
"I'm Ginny Weasley," she said, her tone more confident now. "First year?"
"Arcturus Black," he replied. The name hung in the air for a moment, eliciting a flicker of curiosity in Ginny's eyes.
"Black, huh? I've heard of your family," she said cautiously.
"Most people have," Arcturus replied, his voice betraying neither pride nor irritation.
The blonde girl tilted her head, her silvery-gray eyes studying him as if she were gazing at something beyond his physical form. "I'm Luna Lovegood," she said in a soft, sing-song voice. "Your aura is quite unusual."
Ginny rolled her eyes. "Don't mind Luna. She sees things other people don't."
"I'll keep that in mind," Arcturus said, intrigued despite himself.
As the train began its journey, the compartment fell into a rhythm of sporadic conversation and companionable silence.
Ginny chattered about her older brothers and their exploits at Hogwarts, while Luna occasionally interjected with strange yet oddly insightful observations.
Arcturus listened more than he spoke, content to observe the dynamics between the two girls.
When the train finally arrived at Hogsmeade Station, the first-years were herded toward the boats that would carry them across the lake. The sight of Hogwarts, its turrets and towers aglow in the night, filled Arcturus with a sense of awe.
It was a strange mix of nostalgia and wonder; though he had memories of this place, seeing it in person was an entirely different experience.
The Great Hall was as magnificent as he had imagined. The enchanted ceiling reflected the starlit sky above, and the golden plates and goblets on the long tables gleamed in the candlelight. Arcturus found himself momentarily distracted by the sight of the banners in their house colors, each representing a piece of the school's rich history.
At the front of the hall, the Sorting Hat sat on its stool, looking as frayed and ancient as the tales described. When the noise of the Hall settled, the Hat began to sing:
Beneath these hallowed rafters high,
Where magic whispers, bold and sly,
Four founders wove a destiny,
To house the witch and wizardry.
In Gryffindor, the brave will strive,
With lion's heart, their dreams alive.
Hufflepuff welcomes all with care,
Where toil and trust form bonds so rare.
Ravenclaw seeks the sharp of mind,
Whose wit and wisdom intertwined.
And Slytherin, with cunning grace,
Seeks those who'll carve their destined place.
But heed my words, for times have turned,
This world is changed, as you have learned.
Through shifting sands of power's tide,
You'll find your place and where you'll bide.
So don the Hat, let fate be known,
The house you'll call your very own.
Polite applause filled the hall as the Hat's song ended. One by one, the first-years were called forward, their names echoing across the room.
Arcturus felt a flicker of unease as he waited. He had prepared himself for this moment, yet the reality of standing before the entire school with the weight of his name was daunting.
When "Black, Arcturus!" was finally called, he rose and walked to the stool, his steps measured and deliberate. The Sorting Hat was placed on his head, and its voice spoke directly into his mind.
"Ah, another Black," it murmured, its tone both curious and knowing. "And not just any Black. You are an enigma—two lives, two paths, one destiny."
"Just sort me," Arcturus replied silently, though his tone was neither impatient nor disrespectful.
"You're cunning, no doubt, and your ambition burns bright," the Hat continued. "Slytherin will suit you well. But are you prepared to navigate its challenges?"
"I am," Arcturus replied.
The Hat chuckled. "Then Slytherin it is!"
As the Sorting Hat's call of "Slytherin!" rang through the Great Hall, Arcturus Regulus Black rose from the stool with a measured step, the whispers of the gathered students buzzing like bees around him.
The weight of his family name was a cloak he wore proudly, yet uneasily, in this strange and inverted world.
He moved toward the Slytherin table, where the emerald and silver banners of his house gleamed with an almost ethereal glow in the candlelight. Applause from his new housemates rippled through the hall, polite yet tinged with an undercurrent of curiosity and expectation.
The table was lined with girls who seemed to command the room with their presence here and there, were a few boys with delicate features, not unlike Arcturus very own which even with all the time passed continued to annoy him to no end.
Most were dressed with the elegance and poise befitting pureblood lineage, their gazes sharp and assessing. As he took his seat among them, he was greeted by Samantha Rakepick, the Slytherin prefect.
"Welcome to Slytherin, Arcturus Black," Samantha said, her tone brisk but not unkind. Her auburn hair shimmered in the flickering light, and her eyes glinted with the cunning intellect so revered by their house. "I trust you'll live up to the family name."
"I'll do my best," Arcturus replied, his voice steady. Yet within, he resolved to forge his own path, distinct from the legacy that had been handed to him.
After the feast, Samantha led the first-years down into the dungeons. The air grew cooler as they descended, and the light of the torches cast long, eerie shadows on the walls. As the group reached the entrance to the Slytherin common room, Samantha turned to face them.
"This," she said, gesturing to the stone wall before them, "is the entrance to the Slytherin common room. The password is 'Pride.' Remember it well."
She spoke the password, and the stone wall shifted to reveal an arched doorway. Stepping through, Arcturus felt his breath catch at the sight before him.
The common room was grand and mysterious, its walls adorned with tapestries of serpents and silver ornaments. The green light filtering through the underwater windows cast rippling patterns on the floor, giving the room an otherworldly atmosphere.
Plush armchairs and intricately carved tables were arranged around a grand fireplace, where a crackling fire seemed to defy the damp chill of the dungeons.
"Welcome home," Samantha announced. "Your dormitories are just through there." She pointed to a spiral staircase leading downward. "Girls on the left, boys on the right. Try not to get lost."
As the first-years moved toward the dormitories, Arcturus found himself flanked by two girls. One introduced herself as Selene Avery, her blonde hair tied back in a neat braid and her green eyes gleaming with curiosity. The other, a quiet girl with dark hair and a serious demeanor, simply said, "I'm Octavia Mulciber."
"Arcturus Black," he replied, offering a nod to each of them.
"Of course you are," Selene said with a wry smile. "Your family's reputation precedes you. But you don't seem quite as… haughty as I expected."
"Give it time," Octavia said dryly, though her lips twitched in the ghost of a smile.
They reached the boys' dormitory, and Arcturus was struck again by the opulence of his new surroundings. The room was circular, with four-poster beds draped in emerald silk and silver embroidery.
The windows looked out into the depths of the Black Lake, where the occasional shadow of a giant squid or other aquatic creature passed by, their movements ghostly and serene.
"Not bad," Arcturus said, placing his belongings on the bed nearest the window.
Selene laughed. "Not bad? This is the best dormitory in the school. Gryffindor can keep their drafty towers."
Octavia raised an eyebrow. "Comfort won't mean much if you can't hold your own in this house. Slytherin prizes ambition, but ambition without strength is useless."
"I'll keep that in mind," Arcturus replied, his tone thoughtful. "But strength takes many forms."
Octavia's gaze lingered on him for a moment before she gave a curt nod. "Good. You might actually survive here."
Over the next few days, Arcturus found himself navigating the complexities of Slytherin house. The girls in his year were a mix of purebloods and half-bloods, each with their own ambitions and secrets.
Selene Avery was quick-witted and friendly, though her sharp tongue often landed her in trouble, surmised our character, vaguely annoyed after a few minutes of pleasant discussion. Octavia Mulciber was reserved but fiercely intelligent, her loyalty hard-won but unwavering, decided the young Black, interested by the prospective of such a loyal ally.
There was also Livia Greengrass, a pureblood with a keen mind for strategy though quite sickly, and Dahlia Page, a half-blood with a penchant for dueling. Together, they formed an unspoken alliance, recognizing the strength in numbers even within the cutthroat world of Slytherin.
Arcturus, however, kept his distance, observing more than participating. He watched as his housemates played their subtle games of power and influence, their words veiled in double meanings and their actions calculated. Though he respected their cunning, he was determined to forge his own path, relying on skill and knowledge rather than manipulation.
In the quiet hours of the night, Arcturus often found himself staring out of the dormitory window at the murky depths of the lake. The world above might be ruled by a matriarchal society, but here, beneath the surface, he felt a strange sense of freedom. This was his world now, and he would shape it as he saw fit.
One evening, as the common room buzzed with activity, Selene plopped down in the armchair opposite him. "You're quiet," she said, tilting her head. "What's your plan, Black? Everyone in this house has one."
Arcturus met her gaze, his expression unreadable. "To be better."
Selene's smile widened. "Ambitious. I like it. But you'll need allies if you want to get anywhere in Slytherin."
"Maybe," Arcturus said, his tone neutral. "But I prefer to rely on myself."
"Suit yourself," Selene replied, leaning back. "Just don't be surprised when the rest of us leave you behind."
As she walked away, Arcturus couldn't help but smile faintly. He didn't need to play their games—not yet. For now, he would watch, learn, and prepare. The world might see him as a mere piece in their grand design, but Arcturus Regulus Black was determined to become the master of his own fate.