Aster sat.
Millicent Bulstrode was nearby but made no move toward him. She'd seen what he did to Draco earlier, everyone had, and while she didn't understand it fully, she understood enough. And she knew Draco wouldn't forget it. Still, Aster showed no reaction. His eyes simply found Hermione, still standing in line, and he offered her a quiet smile.
Then, soon enough, "Hermione Granger!"
He watched as she moved forward, hands tight at her sides. The Sorting Hat barely touched her head before it began to speak, only to her, of course.
"You won't be good at Slytherin, dear. I know, I know… still, you might find those close to you there. If they really care, they'll reach out."
"You could do wonders in Ravenclaw, oh, what a mind, but no… It's not what you want. Very well then."
"A house worthy of your head… and your bravery."
"Gryffindor!"
Hermione looked toward the Slytherin table, to Aster. He smiled again, small, knowing. She nodded almost imperceptibly and turned away. The rules were the rules: she had to sit with her house.
Later, Draco Malfoy slid into the seat beside Aster with smug purpose. He leaned in just enough to murmur:
"You were right. He wouldn't leave the group… But you did."
Aster didn't look at him.
Before the silence could stretch, a girl slid between them: Pansy Parkinson. She greeted Draco with a falsely sweet "Hello, Draco," then leaned toward Aster and whispered:
"I saw what you did. It was… cool."
"My family, of course, wants me close to Draco." She shrugged. "Too bad."
Not long after, Harry Potter was called and joined Ron Weasley at the Gryffindor table, the hat barely touching his head before declaring its choice. The rest followed in quick succession.
Before long, the tables were full. The hall buzzed with the beginning of new allegiances, unspoken rivalries, and shifting lines in the sand.
Dumbledore rose from his seat.The candlelight flickered as the Great Hall fell silent, every student turning toward the headmaster. His eyes, old, blue, and difficult to read, swept across the room with quiet weight.
"Welcome," he said, his voice neither loud nor soft, but precise. "To those returning, it is good to see familiar faces. To those joining us for the first time, welcome to Hogwarts. You may find that the castle is larger on the inside than it seems, in more ways than one."
Polite laughter rippled through the younger students. Dumbledore smiled faintly, but it didn't reach his eyes.
"There are a few start-of-term notices to share. First: the Forbidden Forest remains just that: forbidden. It is not a place for wandering feet, no matter how brave or curious they might be."
"Second: magic in the corridors between classes is not permitted, not charms, not jinxes, not illusions, and yes," he added, glancing briefly in Aster's direction, "not wandless magic either."
Aster didn't react. But Hermione noticed.
"And third…" Dumbledore paused.
His voice became quieter, though it carried farther.
"The third-floor corridor, on the right-hand side, is strictly off-limits to all students. Those who do not wish to meet a most painful, and permanent, end… would do well to stay away."
A hush fell over the Hall.
Dumbledore held their gaze, letting the words settle, especially on those students who fancied themselves rule-breakers. Harry frowned. Hermione tensed. Aster… smiled, faintly.
"Lastly," the headmaster said, tone softening, "to anyone who feels uncertain tonight, about where they've been placed, about what awaits them here, know this: the Sorting Hat sees beyond the surface. Hogwarts gives us not always what we expect… but often what we need."
He lifted his hands and clapped once.
Food burst onto the golden plates in an instant. The Feast began.
The banquet unfolded in grand fashion. The enchanted ceiling mirrored the night sky, candles floated midair, and food appeared in glorious heaps across the tables. Aster ate steadily, not rushing, but clearly making up for the fact that he hadn't eaten since early that morning. He observed the house ghosts with mild curiosity; his own, Slytherin's, was called the Bloody Baron. Fitting name, he thought, for a ghost who hovered silently in blood-streaked robes.
Across the table, Draco finally broke the silence between bites. "Hey… 'Black'?" he asked, the name catching on his tongue like a thorn. His voice held no mockery this time, just genuine confusion.
Aster didn't look up immediately. He finished chewing, then dabbed his mouth with a napkin. "I'm eating," he said calmly, then added, "but you can call me Aster just fine."
Draco seemed hesitant, maybe trying not to offend. "So… how can you be Harry's brother and still carry the name Black?"
It wasn't accusatory, more like someone trying to do the math aloud.
Aster sighed inwardly, but his tone remained even. "His mum, our mum, Lily, she adopted me. Something about my uncle. I didn't ask much."
The nearby Slytherins caught the implication instantly. Uncle meant Sirius Black, the man still rotting in Azkaban, branded a traitor and servant of Voldemort.
Nobody pressed further.
Aster returned to his meal without another word, perfectly composed, but the ghost of a frown lingered behind his eyes.
The banquet ended soon enough, the golden plates clearing themselves with a quiet shimmer of magic. Conversations quieted as the heads of house gave subtle nods to their prefects, who began rising from their tables.
One of the older students, tall, sharp-faced, with the unmistakable poise of someone used to command, stood and called, "Slytherins, this way!"
Aster followed the flow of green and silver robes, the soft shuffle of polished shoes and boots echoing through the corridors as they made their way deeper into the castle. The group moved in relative silence, some whispering excitedly, others, like Aster, simply observing.
Eventually, they reached a plain, cold stone wall at the end of a narrow corridor. There was no door, no handle, only the flickering light of a torch and the faint glint of something serpentine etched into the stone.
The prefect turned around and spoke crisply, "The password changes monthly, sometimes weekly. It's posted in the common room, so read it daily, or you'll be sleeping in the corridor."
He paused for effect, letting the tension settle.
"For this month, the password is: Bloodline."
At the word, a snake made of stone came to life. It slithered, hissing softly, until the wall revealed with a smooth grind of magic and stone, revealing a shadowy passage beyond.
Without another word, the prefect gestured for the first-years to enter. Aster stepped through calmly, already adjusting to the cool, deliberate rhythm of Slytherin House.
Inside, Aster followed the group down the winding stairs and soon found himself in the common room. The walls were lined with windows, but instead of clear glass, the panes shimmered as if underwater, distorting the view beyond.
Curious, Aster glanced at the nearest window, the rippling effect making the outside world look like it was submerged beneath the lake.
Before he could ask, the prefect answered, half-serious, half-joking:"Yes, the windows show the lake outside. If you're lucky, you might even see the giant squid brushing up against the glass."
The group shared a few quiet laughs, but then their attention was drawn to a tall, pale man standing alone in the center of the room. Skin so pale he looked sick, so sick it would force WizardFlix and HOB Nax to call him black.¹
His sharp eyes scanned the students, lingering on Aster just long enough to fill his face with clear disdain.
"Some of you may already know me," the man said smoothly, his voice carrying an arrogant calm. "I am the professor assigned to this house. Name's Severus Snape. You will address me as Professor Snape."
Snape gave a small, dismissive gesture to the prefect.
The older student stepped forward, now serious and composed. His voice was clear and precise, carrying easily through the murmuring group.
"The purpose of the houses being divided is, first and foremost, to foster competition. House points are awarded and deducted based on behavior, achievements, and performance. If you slack off or cause this house to lose points, you'll be severely punished."
That last word hung in the air like a quiet threat. A few students whispered nervously among themselves.
"Expelled?" someone murmured behind Aster.
Before the prefect could respond, Draco Malfoy moved in beside him, with Pansy Parkinson sliding in on Aster's other side, clearly staking out their social positions.
Draco leaned close and whispered, just loud enough for Aster to hear, "My father's on the Hogwarts council. No one would dare expel me. They wouldn't even try."
His tone dripped with entitlement, not bravado, he truly believed what he said.
Aster didn't respond at first. His locket vibrated faintly with suppressed irritation, but he kept his face neutral.
Aster soon followed the others down the hall, the girls trailing behind the female prefect while he walked alongside his own.
The corridor was lined with copper panels, aged and worn enough that patches had already begun to oxidize into a soft green patina. The faint gleam of greenish light bounced off the walls, giving the whole Slytherin dormitory an eerie, almost otherworldly glow.
The prefect stopped abruptly and pointed to a door. "You two," he said, nodding at Aster and Draco. "This is your room."
They stepped inside to find four beds neatly arranged along the walls, each separated by a wardrobe carved from dark wood. There were no windows to the outside.
Almost immediately, Gabbe and Goyle entered behind them, filling out the room.
Aster approached the bed with his bags neatly placed in front of it. Nyx was already inside, gliding effortlessly through the room with a silent grace.
"So, you've unlocked your cage. Smart girl," Aster said, watching as Nyx settled beside him.
Nyx's voice echoed softly in his mind, "Won't you stay with your friends?"
Aster glanced at her, then back down at his hands. "No."
Nyx gave a slow, understanding nod.
Just then, Draco approached, eyes narrowing as he spotted the raven. "Is that a… raven?" He took a cautious step back.
Aster didn't respond. Without a word, he slipped out of his worn clothes and into something softer, more comfortable. He climbed into bed, pulling the covers close around him.
Nyx settled beside him on the mattress, her dark feathers ruffling as she cast a sharp, warning glance toward anyone who dared come near. The raven's presence was a silent but fierce promise: no one would disturb Aster's rest.
¹ I had to make this joke, I was just going to finish the draft and go to the next chapter... But couldn't miss this joke, my brain just couldn't keep it since I thought this joke from the first chapter I started writing this AU.