The Common Room Beneath the Black Lake

The opening feast ended in an almost carnival-like atmosphere. The last scraps of food vanished from the plates, and Headmaster Dippet rose once more to announce the new term's precautions—banning entry into the Forbidden Forest, reminding everyone of the Moving Stairs' shifting patterns, and offering a "thanks" for caretaker Mr. Pringle's "valuable" work. Finally, led by the prefects, students from each house filed out in turn, returning to their respective Common Rooms.

The Slytherin first-years were gathered together by a seventh-year male prefect and a female prefect. The male prefect had a stern face, pale blond hair, and light blue eyes; he introduced himself as Casius Warrington. The female prefect was a haughty-looking girl with her black hair pinned up immaculately, named Septima Victor.

"Follow me," Prefect Warrington said curtly, his voice carrying that characteristic Slytherin coolness. "Watch your step, stay with the group, and don't gawk around and embarrass the house."

They left the noisy Great Hall and descended stone steps—down, down, and further down. The surrounding temperature seemed to drop gradually. The torches on the walls shifted to eerie green Magical Flame, casting flickering shadows on the stone carved with intertwining serpent motifs. The air grew damp, carrying the faint, fishy moisture unique to the depths of the Black Lake.

[Environmental Scan: Host has entered the deep underground levels of Hogwarts. Magic field leans toward yin-cold and concealed. Slight repulsion detected with host's Symbiont of Light and Dark constitution, but the 'Eternal Cycle' wand stabilizes the energy field.]

Ares could feel the warm, soothing sensation from the wand in his chest, dispelling that trace of discomfort. He glanced at Tom beside him. Tom's face showed no sign of unease; instead, he seemed to adapt to this deep, hidden environment like a fish to water, exuding a natural ease. His black eyes keenly observed every detail along the way, as if memorizing the path to this "lair."

Finally, they stopped before an empty, damp stone wall. The wall bore nothing but several intertwined stone-carved giant serpents.

"Remember the password," Prefect Victor said, turning to face the first-years, her voice clear. "'Pure-blood.' The password changes regularly, so check the notices."

She turned to the stone wall and spoke in a crisp tone: "Pure-blood."

On the wall, the stone-carved giant serpents seemed to come alive. They slid apart silently, and the stone wall slid open without a sound, revealing an oval entrance.

A denser wave of air rushed out, mingling the scents of ancient wood, damp stone, and faint spices. Beyond the door lay the Slytherin Common Room.

It was a long, low-ceilinged room at the bottom of the Black Lake. Rough stone walls were lit by eerie green flames, casting a hazy glow. The ceiling, enchanted to show the lakebed above, displayed the slow drift of giant squid and other strange creatures' shadows, sending flowing darkness across the room. In the center stood an exquisitely carved fireplace, burning with pale green flames that gave off warmth but couldn't dispel the inherent chill of the underground space. Before the fireplace were many ornately carved black or dark green leather armchairs and sofas.

The entire Common Room exuded an atmosphere of ancient luxury tinged with oppression. A few upper-year students sat here and there in small groups, murmuring to each other. When the first-years entered, they cast brief, appraising glances before turning away, displaying Slytherin's typical reserve and exclusivity.

"Boys' dormitory is the left corridor, girls' the right. Your names are on the doorplates," Prefect Warrington said, pointing to two stone corridors stretching into darkness. "Your luggage has been delivered. Check your schedules tomorrow morning. Dismissed."

The first-years dispersed somewhat stiffly, searching for their dormitories. Tom and Ares walked down the left corridor and soon found brass nameplates engraved with their names on two adjacent doors.

Their dormitory was a double room—clearly a privilege for certain "special" or Pure-blood students. It matched the Common Room's style: stone walls, a ceiling showing the Black Lake's depths, two four-poster beds with dark green canopies, and carved black wooden desks and wardrobes. The environment was a thousand times better than the orphanage, but it still carried the underground's chill.

Tom pushed open his door and walked in. He didn't immediately unpack but went straight to the window—not a real window, but a magical projection of the lakebed. He stared at the dark water outside and the swaying shadows of aquatic plants, his face expressionless. Yet Ares could sense the deep, lake-like thoughts churning within him.

Ares entered his own room and set his trunk by the bed. He touched the cold stone wall, feeling the faint vibrations from the Black Lake's depths beneath his feet.

"It's... quiet here," Tom's voice suddenly came from the doorway. He leaned against the frame, looking at Ares. "And... safe."

His meaning was clear. This place was secluded enough, far from the professors and most other houses' students—an ideal spot for "private research" and building influence.

Ares nodded. "We need to get familiar with the environment... and the people here." He meant the upper-year students in the Common Room and classmates like Abraxas.

A cold curve tugged at Tom's lips. "Of course." He paused, his gaze falling on the "Eternal Cycle" wand Ares hadn't yet put away. "Your wand was quite eye-catching today."

"Yours too," Ares replied calmly.

They exchanged a look, both understanding the other's meaning. They needed power, but also caution. In Slytherin, excessive brilliance and excessive mediocrity were equally dangerous.

Just then, footsteps and conversation came from the corridor. It was Abraxas and a few other first-years who also seemed well-born.

"Looks like we're neighbors, Riddle, Phoenix," Abraxas greeted with a smile. His gaze swept between them, finally settling on Tom. "Common Room later? Perhaps we can chat."

It was a clear signal of recruitment.

Tom immediately slipped on his polished mask, smiling. "Of course, Malfoy. We'll be there shortly."

Abraxas nodded in satisfaction and left with the others.

Tom closed the door, and the smile vanished instantly. He walked over to Ares, lowering his voice: "The Malfoy family is one of the Twenty-Eight Sacred Families, very influential. Getting close to him benefits us."

"But he's shrewd too," Ares reminded him. "He's interested in your potential, not you yourself."

"I know." Tom's tone carried a hint of disdain. "It's mutual exploitation. But I need his resources and connections." He looked at Ares. "And you need to play your part. A... mysterious, uniquely powerful, but harmless supporter."

Ares understood Tom's meaning. He needed Ares's wisdom and that calming power as a supplement and cover, while Tom himself would focus on displaying strength, ambition, and leadership to attract followers like Malfoy.

"I understand," Ares said. This was the division of labor they'd formed at the orphanage, just on a larger stage now.

They quickly tidied their luggage, changed into clean robes, and returned together to the Common Room.

By the fireplace, Abraxas was already sitting with a few upper-year students. When he saw them approach, he waved. Tom naturally walked over and joined the conversation. His elegant speech and occasional flashes of precise magical understanding quickly caught the upper-year students' attention.

Ares chose a slightly distant armchair near the "window," sat down, and pulled out the ancient scroll of A History of Magic he'd brought from the vault, quietly flipping through it. His heterochromatic eyes looked even deeper in the eerie green light, the golden chain pattern beneath his left eye faintly visible, maintaining a subtle distance from the curious, probing gazes around him.

He didn't need to integrate as urgently as Tom. His "difference" itself was a kind of capital and barrier.

In the Common Room, the green fire crackled, and lake creatures swam silently overhead. Tom Riddle was taking his first steps on the path he'd chosen, while Ares Phoenix, like a gem containing the secrets of light and dark sinking into the lakebed, quietly observed and waited.

Their Slytherin life, in the dark depths of the lake, had officially set sail. Beneath the unruffled surface, undercurrents stirred silently.