Slytherin Welcoming Party

On the last day of September, just after dinner, the seventh-year Prefects, Lucretius Black and Narcissa Black, stood at the end of the Slytherin table and lightly tapped their Goblets with silver spoons.

"All Slytherin students, return directly to the Common Room after dinner." Narcissa rose gracefully. "First-year students, attendance is mandatory."

As soon as she finished speaking, the atmosphere at the Slytherin table changed at once.

The senior students exchanged knowing looks, and several fifth-year boys even wore smiles as if they were looking forward to a show.

The pureblood students, especially those from the core branches of Ancient Families, all wore expressions that said, Finally, it's here.

Avery Cuthbert immediately set down his knife and fork, wiped his mouth with a napkin, and a flash of excitement appeared in his eyes.

Hermes Mulciber slowly raised his head, his gloomy gaze sweeping across the Prefects before finally settling on Regulus beside him.

Only Alex Rosier, a boy from a Gentle Pureblood branch, blinked in confusion and asked quietly, "What's happening? Why do we have to go back?"

Avery gave a scornful laugh, making no effort to hide the superiority and faint pity in his voice. "Rosier, your family didn't tell you? Of course not, your family... Hmph."

"It's tradition—the Slytherin Welcoming Program. We get to see which of this year's Little Snakes has the sharpest fangs."

Alex's face turned a little pale. He clearly understood something, and he looked uneasily at Regulus before glancing at the other new students.

The commotion even drew the attention of the other three Houses. They discussed it among themselves as the senior students explained Slytherin's exclusive tradition to the younger ones.

Regulus felt more than one gaze from the professors' table fall on him. What caught his attention was that Dumbledore was among them.

At the same time, gazes came from the Gryffindor side as well—Lily Evans, James Potter, and Sirius. He did not respond, merely rising to his feet in silence.

By the time everyone filed into the Common Room deep underground, the atmosphere had changed completely.

Emerald flames leaped in the Fireplace, illuminating the Dark Green Bed Curtains and Silver ornaments, as well as the dozens of faces in the room, each wearing a different expression.

The senior students gathered in twos and threes around the sofas and Armchairs, chatting in low voices as their eyes swept over the ten newly arrived first-years.

The first-years instinctively clustered together, though they vaguely divided into several smaller groups.

Avery, Hermes, and the other core pureblood students naturally stood together, looking either arrogant or gloomy.

The other new students, including two tense-looking Half-bloods—a boy and a girl whose robes were somewhat plain—appeared isolated and helpless.

Their gazes swept frantically through the crowd before, as if by unspoken agreement, settling on Regulus.

Over the past month, Regulus had behaved completely differently from the other high-born pureblood little wizards.

He did not possess that deliberately displayed arrogance. He never joined in the pointless belittling of bloodlines or backgrounds, and he was rigorous and fair when answering questions in class or working on group assignments.

To those new students outside the core pureblood circle, or those from ordinary families, the second son of the Black family was practically the only first-year Slytherin they considered reasonable and reliable.

At that moment, they unconsciously edged closer to where Regulus stood, as though doing so might grant them a faint sense of safety.

Regulus noticed their subtle dependence, but he showed no reaction. He simply walked calmly to the edge of the open space in the center of the Common Room and stood there quietly, his gray eyes sweeping over the room.

"Quiet." Lucretius Black stepped before the Fireplace, his voice not loud but his expression solemn.

The Common Room immediately fell silent.

"The old rules." He was concise. "First-year students will duel in pairs. There are no restrictions on spells, as long as you can cast them and don't cause Madam Pomfrey trouble.

"The purpose is to let you recognize yourselves and recognize others. Slytherin respects strength, and also the wisdom needed to wield strength."

The moment he finished speaking, low murmurs and snickers rose from the surrounding senior students.

"The betting's open, the betting's open!" A sixth-year boy grinned as he pulled out a small notebook. "Bet on which rookie will still be standing at the end. Odds are open now! Ten Galleons on the Black family kid."

"Obviously. Is that even worth betting on?" The girl beside him rolled her eyes. "Look at him. Does he look eleven? I bet he won't need three minutes to take down every opponent."

"Not necessarily," said another seventh-year boy with glasses, pushing them up as he pretended to analyze the situation. "That Mulciber kid has a really sinister look in his eyes. I heard his family has some unusual collections.

"And the Cuthbert family's kid isn't completely useless either."

"Oh, give it a rest. Look at the way Black is standing over there." The first sixth-year boy gestured with his chin.

"Everyone else is either trembling with nerves, overly excited, or forcing a straight face like Avery.

"Now look at him. He looks like he's standing at the door of his own Study waiting for someone to bring tea. I'm raising my bet. I wager his robes won't even get wrinkled."

Those comments drifted clearly into the first-years' ears. Avery's face reddened, from both excitement and anger.

Alex grew even more nervous, his Fingers unconsciously twisting the edge of his robes, while the two Half-bloods turned pale.

Hermes remained as gloomy as ever, but his gaze at Regulus became even sharper.

And Regulus, the center of the discussion, simply stood there quietly without any expression on his face.

"Now, we'll draw lots to determine the first-round opponents." Narcissa took out a small silver cup filled with slips of Parchment.

The results were quickly drawn. Alex was matched against an equally nervous pureblood side branch boy.

A half-blood girl drew Avery, and her face turned even paler. Regulus drew another pureblood boy, whose expression looked as if he were about to cry when he saw the slip.

"Wait."

A deep voice rang out.

Hermes Mulciber stepped out from the crowd and looked at the two Prefects before turning his gaze to Regulus. "I request a duel with Regulus Black."

The Common Room fell silent for a moment, then an even louder buzz broke out. Requesting a change of opponent was uncommon, but the Rules did not forbid it as long as both sides agreed.

Lucretius raised an eyebrow and looked at Regulus. "Black?"

Everyone's eyes focused on him.

Regulus looked at Hermes. There was no provocation in the other boy's dark eyes, only an almost obsessive seriousness and something deeply suppressed.

He remembered the smell of burning from a late-night return to the Dormitory, and the nameless Dark Red Bound Book.

"Fine." Regulus nodded calmly, then added, "But since this is a series of one-on-one duels, we can go last and let the others finish their matches first."

The boy who had been replaced looked as though he had received a pardon. He nodded rapidly and hurried to one side.

The other new students had no objections either. Anyone could see that a duel between Regulus and Hermes would likely be on an entirely different level from the others.

The two Prefects exchanged a glance and nodded. "Fine. Then we'll begin with the other pairs."

The duels began quickly. The open space was cleared, and students crowded around to watch.

Alex and his opponent were almost comically evenly matched. Both were so nervous that they stumbled over their incantations, and the flashes from their Disarming Charms flew crookedly.

In the end, Alex lost after tripping over himself in his panic, drawing a burst of laughter.

Avery had a much easier time against the half-blood girl. A well-executed Slowing Charm threw her off balance, followed immediately by a precise Disarming Charm that ended the duel and earned nods from several senior students.

The other matches were much the same.

Just as Regulus had observed, first-year students, even little wizards carefully trained by Pureblood families, still possessed immature Magic Power, weak control, and virtually no practical combat experience at this age.

The contents of Standard Spells were already subjects that required diligent practice from them.

Disarming Charms, Slowing Charms, Leg-Locker Curses, Locking Charms, Petrifying Spells, Fire-Making Spells... These most basic practical spells were already considered impressive among peers if one could cast them smoothly and hit accurately.

But to Regulus, these spells posed no difficulty at all.

Any spell requiring only precise gestures, clear pronunciation, and basic Magic Power guidance was practically effortless for him to learn at a glance, and with a little practice, he could use it proficiently.

His powerful control over Magic Power and his calculating ability were enough to compensate for the gap caused by his age, allowing these basic spells to display stability and force far beyond that of his peers in his hands.

Of course, Magic was far more complicated than that.

Spells requiring intense emotions as a driving force, involving complex conceptual understanding, or needing special talent and mediums were still fields he needed to study and explore.

After several rounds of duels, the new students were exhausted. Some were excited, others dejected. In the end, only Regulus and Hermes remained standing in the center of the open space.