There were exactly 142 staircases at Hogwarts.
Some were broad and spacious, others narrow and steep. Many shifted beneath your feet. Worse still, a few had steps that would suddenly vanish mid-climb—leaving an unsuspecting leg stuck halfway through.
"I can't take it anymore…"
Draco finally lost it after falling victim to yet another vanishing step. "Who in their right mind designed the stairs like this? Were they insane?!"
Lycos gave him a glance and, without pause, jotted down the twenty-seventh trap step they'd encountered on his worn piece of parchment.
"I heard it was built by Rowena Ravenclaw," he replied casually.
Draco's expression froze. He shut his mouth at once.
No matter how much of a pompous pure-blood prince he thought himself to be, Draco still maintained a baseline reverence for the founders of Hogwarts.
"But… why?" he grumbled, pulling his leg out from between the steps. "What was she thinking, turning the school into this labyrinth?"
"Because Hogwarts wasn't just a school at first," Lycos said, stepping over the disappearing stair. "It also served as a sanctuary for witches and wizards."
Since they had time to kill, Lycos figured he might as well share a bit of Hogwarts history as they walked.
"About a thousand years ago, witches and wizards were being hunted and persecuted by various factions. The four founders created Hogwarts not only to protect magically gifted children, but to teach them how to use their powers."
"Hmph. Hard to believe such noble wizards were ever persecuted," Draco scoffed, clearly skeptical. "Where'd you learn all this, Lycos?"
From the Harry Potter books, Lycos thought to himself.
Out loud, he simply said, "There's a book called Hogwarts: A History. You should give it a read—it's full of useful information."
---
By the time they finally reached the fourth floor, nearly ten minutes of their first class had passed.
Lycos felt more grateful than ever that he'd asked a ghost for directions last night on the way to Quirrell's office—without that help, he and Draco might've wandered the castle for hours.
"Fourth floor, classroom... 02E," Draco murmured, checking the timetable he held in his hand.
"Lucky Crabbe and Goyle," he grumbled. "Those two are probably still fast asleep in the dorm."
"And whose fault is that?" Lycos replied, shrugging as he led Draco down another hallway. "You told me not to wake them, remember?"
"Like we'd be able to wake them anyway," Draco muttered, running a hand through his disheveled blond hair. "Our voices are nothing compared to their snoring."
His normally sleek hair was now a tangled mess—he looked like a golden retriever that had rolled around on the floor.
"Should've dragged them out anyway. Let them walk ahead and fall into all the traps. Could've saved me the bruises…"
Since they were already late, there was no reason to rush. The two Slytherins strolled along a Gothic-windowed corridor, chatting as they went.
The morning sunlight streamed in through the east-facing windows, forming dusty golden beams that cast a warm glow across their shoulders.
Lycos squinted against the light, his amber-gold eyes matching its hue. For a moment, the peace of it all made him forget the storm he was trapped in.
That is, until they came across a locked door.
"This hallway's a dead end," Draco announced.
"I know," Lycos said, his breathing quickening.
Fourth floor. Eastern corridor. Locked door.
The pieces clicked instantly.
This was the entrance to the forbidden corridor—the one hiding the Philosopher's Stone.
Lycos knew the truth well: the door was nothing more than bait. Its lock wasn't enchanted or protected in any way—a first-year witch's Alohomora could open it easily.
Just beyond it was the trapdoor that led to the Stone itself—Voldemort's ultimate goal, and now, Lycos's as well.
"I hear something breathing in there," Draco said, pressing an ear to the door. "Louder than Crabbe and Goyle after a brawl."
He made a face. "Ugh—it stinks, too."
"I bet there's someone in there... no, two or three people, maybe, who are even worse than Crabbe and Goyle at basic hygiene!"
Lycos grabbed the hood of Draco's robes and yanked him away from the door.
"Ever think it might be a monster in there?" he muttered. "I'm guessing this is the 'forbidden' corridor the headmaster warned us about. Best not to fall in."
"Monster?" Draco scoffed. "You're just scaring yourself. Who in their right mind would keep a monster inside a school?"
Lycos went silent.
He genuinely didn't know how to explain that Hogwarts not only kept a monster in this corridor, but also had a Basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets... and a whole colony of Acromantulas in the Forbidden Forest.
"...Yeah, you're probably right. Let's get to class."
In the end, Lycos decided not to crush Draco's fragile fantasy of Hogwarts being a safe, well-run institution.
---
Thankfully, Slytherin's first lesson was a joint class with Hufflepuff.
By the time Lycos and Draco arrived at the Charms classroom, they found they weren't the only latecomers. In fact, only about half the Hufflepuff students had shown up so far.
"Ah! Two more young gentlemen. Let's see here… Lycos Hayden and Draco Malfoy, yes?"
A very tiny wizard—clearly their professor—held up a parchment roster and checked their names.
"Well, we haven't properly begun yet, so go on, take your seats!"
Professor Flitwick, the Charms Master, was a cheerful little wizard with a bushy mustache and a tuft of brown hair. He wore a neat little suit, and due to his height, had to stand on a stack of books just to reach the lectern and chalkboard.
He wasn't the least bit bothered by Lycos and Draco's tardiness.
"Ah, first lessons are always a bit chaotic. Happens every year! Yes, yes—I do think the staircases are a bit much, but that's part of the fun of Hogwarts, isn't it?"
Standing atop his pile of books, Flitwick beamed at the students as he chatted away.
Before anyone knew it, the class had slipped into a lighthearted, almost playful atmosphere. Rather than jumping into strict lectures, Flitwick sprinkled bits of magical theory into the conversation—just enough to kindle his students' curiosity.
Soon, many of the first-years were thinking: What a laid-back professor... maybe skipping Charms won't be so bad after all.
But just as that idea began to take root, Professor Flitwick picked up his attendance sheet again.
"Oh! I see there are still two students who haven't arrived—Gregory Goyle and Vincent Crabbe."
His voice sharpened.
"As a result of their absence... Slytherin loses five points."