"Whispers, Wandering, and Who Let the Owl In?"
The excitement of the Sorting had faded, replaced with the odd thrill of normalcy. Breakfasts full of pumpkin juice and toast, parchment crumpled under half-finished schedules, professors trying to keep first-years from wandering into third-floor staircases that definitely didn't lead where they used to.
It was a normal day.
Except for the eyes watching.
-Severus-
It started with compliments.
"You're clever," Lucius Malfoy had said the day before, after a passing conversation in the corridor. "Slytherin needs minds like yours."
Now he said nothing, but he watched from the corner of the common room, head tilted slightly. Severus tried to ignore it. He wasn’t used to attention like that.
It felt… strange. Good, but off. Like being praised for something you didn’t realize you were doing.
When Lucius finally approached, it was with a casualness that felt too rehearsed.
“You’re the sort that’ll rise quickly,” he said, leaning beside the younger boy. “Keep your eyes open. Not everyone here is your friend.”
Severus didn’t reply. He didn’t have to. The small nod Lucius gave him afterward felt like a signature on a contract he never signed.
-James-
It was less obvious with James.
A comment in the hallway: “You’ve got fire. Reckless, but useful.”
James blinked, confused, then brushed it off. Lucius was a fifth year—probably just being weird. But then it happened again. A look during breakfast. A smirk as he passed him in the corridor.
“You don’t like him, do you?” Sirius asked, noticing the way James stiffened whenever Lucius passed.
“No. He’s creepy.”
But he still noticed when Lucius called others "children" but never called him that.
-Lily-
Lily had watched Lucius with Severus once. Just once. And it was enough.
He'd said something to him in the common room, and Severus had frozen—just for a moment—before nodding. His expression went blank after that, and Lily didn’t like that blankness. It wasn’t like Severus. He was quiet, yes. But not... empty.
“You alright?” she had asked him later.
He’d snapped, “Fine.”
Which meant he wasn’t.
But it was too early to say anything. Too early to see the cracks.
Except Lily always noticed cracks.
-Narcissa-
She saw everything.
She watched Lucius walk the halls and let his words fall like silk over the two boys. She watched his gaze linger too long. She didn’t say anything.
But that night, in their shared quarters, she slammed a drawer too hard and said:
“They’re children, Lucius.”
Lucius didn’t flinch. “They’re talented. It’s not a crime to mentor someone talented.”
She said nothing after that.
But she didn’t sleep well, either.
-Dorcas, Xenophilius, and the Others-
Dorcas joined the Dueling Club before most had finished unpacking their trunks.
“Slytherin's boring unless you hit something,” she said, loud enough for McGonagall to sigh audibly.
Xenophilius Lovegood followed a floating quill down the hall and missed three classes.
“I’m observing,” he explained. “Knowledge doesn’t always wait for schedules.”
The rest found their rhythm in classes, in laughter, in learning to use the staircase with precision timing.
Things were good.
Almost too good.
-That Night-
A breeze crept through the castle, tugging at curtains and parchment.
Lucius stood in the darkened corridor near the dungeons, arms crossed, waiting.
Severus came to him.
“You wanted to see me?”
Lucius gave a faint smile.
“I have plans, Severus. And you? You could be part of something greater.”
Just like that, the door cracked open. Severus stepped inside.
And the castle, ancient and watchful, said nothing at all.