The unpleasant effect of the ritual finally released me. The last twenty-four hours had been pure hell. Constant surges of magic, like tiny icy needles exploding under the skin, had tormented me all day and night. Tingling, ringing in my ears, waves of nausea…
Fortunately, about an hour ago, it all stopped, leaving behind only sleep deprivation and exhaustion. I hadn't closed my eyes all night, and now my eyelids were treacherously heavy, begging for eight hours of peace. So, my only desire at that moment was to collapse onto a seat and fall asleep right here, in the compartment of the Hogwarts Express.
Around me were my inner circle — or, as I liked to call them in my thoughts, my Advisors. Considering I was the head of the Slytherin Council, this definition seemed most accurate to me.
Cassius Warrington, Marcus Avery, Amanda Rosier, Isabelle Nott, and Dexter Blackmore had changed a lot over the summer. It seemed like only two months, but at our age, that's an eternity. Amanda and Isabelle could hardly be called girls anymore — young ladies sat before me, though with a childlike liveliness still present in their features. The guys had also matured: angular lines were more confidently displacing the childish softness of their faces. When you see someone constantly, the changes aren't as noticeable, but these two months of separation had done their job, and they looked very different to me now. Both in height and appearance.
Amanda was the first to respond to my compliment about how the girls had only become more beautiful, noting that I had changed a lot too. Thanks to Occlumency, I could even mentally compare my current appearance with last year's, and she was right. If I dug even deeper, to the first year, linking that first-year with the current me would be difficult, if not for my distinct family features. A V-shaped torso was now clearly emerging, and in general, I looked sturdy and fit. And I was taller than anyone else in this compartment.
But all that was just the background. Far more important was seeing the glittering Slytherin ring on each of their fingers. Yes, it was my Yule gift. I noted with satisfaction that they all still wore them with pride. In fact, in conversations with others, they casually showed the ring to their interlocutors. Honestly, the idea was a success, and in our house, the possessor of such a ring had a status in the eyes of the younger students not lower than that of the upper-years.
My thoughts wandered everywhere, returning to the ritual and the all-consuming desire for sleep, until Marcus Avery broke the silence.
"Arcturus, you've completely drifted off," he said lazily, touching my shoulder. "They're probably waiting for an answer."
I blinked, returning to reality. The compartment door was ajar, and on the threshold stood a sixth-year… or rather, now a seventh-year Slytherin. I knew him by face, as I'd done him a favor once. Next to him, a chubby-cheeked first-year huddled timidly, staring wide-eyed at our company with admiration.
"My apologies, I didn't get much sleep. Could you repeat that?" I said, rubbing the bridge of my nose to perk up.
"Well… as I said, this is my younger brother…" So, already the fourth senior student. "...He's starting this year. Wanted to introduce him to… uh… to those he'll hopefully be studying with in Slytherin and who he should look up to. After all, I have my N.E.W.T.s, and I'd be happy if he had someone to turn to for school matters."
I suppressed a weary sigh. He was already the fourth today who had "casually" dropped by our compartment to show off a younger relative. They all wanted the same thing — for me, or rather us, to notice their protégé and offer patronage if needed. Or at least just remember the face, just in case.
I gathered my strength and plastered a polite, neutral mask on my face.
"Pleased to meet you," I nodded to the boy. "Good luck with the Sorting Ceremony. Even if the Sorting Hat sends you to Gryffindor," I allowed myself a slight smirk, seeing his brother pale, "don't hesitate to come to me or anyone in this compartment for advice or help. But you must remember, a kindness, like any service, should have a way of returning. And to do so at the appropriate time. Your brother certainly remembers that. I will be watching your Sorting. Have a good day, gentlemen."
The senior student, understanding the hint, hastily nodded.
"Of course, Malfoy. Thank you for your attention. I won't disturb you further."
He quickly pulled his brother out of the compartment and closed the door.
Isabelle Nott, gracefully adjusting the folds of her robes, was the first to break the ensuing silence.
"The Council's authority is apparently being recognized," she stated, a note of satisfaction in her voice. "Senior students aren't bringing their juniors for no reason."
"They're just hoping to secure protection and future help for them," Amanda Rosier shrugged. "Nothing surprising. Everyone seeks patronage. And now we are one of the main forces in the house. Thanks, of course, to our coordination and connections with prefects and many others."
"Credit for which goes to Arcturus and his plans," Avery chimed in, then addressed Amanda. "But they're seeking protection not only from other houses or even our own snakes, but also from our own Council. Many of them will leave in a year or two and want to leave their own safe."
Cassius, who had been silently listening until now, leaned forward, his gaze sharp.
"Alright, enough with the introductory ceremonies for now. Now, Arcturus, maybe you'll tell us what really happened?"
Marcus nodded, picking up the thread.
"Yeah, it'd be interesting to know. You already briefly mentioned France," he gave a meaningful smile.
"I must say, Marcus, you weren't wrong last year to praise magical France and its capital."
"But summer was richer in events than just a trip and even visiting Rue Mirabelle. Right, Arcturus?"
I leaned back in my seat, feeling the fatigue wash over me with renewed force.
"It's not all that interesting, Avery," I waved him off, trying to keep my voice even. "A common story everyone already knows."
Dexter Blackmore, the most impatient among us, snorted.
"Oh, come on, Arcturus," he grumbled. "Everyone here knows what happened to those… Unsworths. And why they were punished. All magical Britain is discussing the sudden demise of an entire family. We'd like details straight from the source. It wasn't hard to put two and two together."
Amanda supported their interest, but more subtly and cunningly. I recognized the snake.
"Arcturus, surely you can trust us with the information," a familiar sly glint flashed in her eyes, which I remembered. "After all, the people in this compartment are the most trusted. And I'd like to know why even I can't leave the grounds of our estate without an escort now. It wasn't me who was kidnapped, after all."
"I'd like to, Amanda, but sometimes information is kept from me too," I parried. At my hint, she fell silent, clearly suppressing displeasure, and turned away. "But now I've thought about a lot and understand everything, so I'm not holding a grudge against those people."
A moment later, she returned her gaze to me and began to study me, waiting to see what I would say.
Isabelle decided to defuse the tension, though she was a bit late.
"My father also won't let me go further than the garden without an adult escort now."
"That's why one shouldn't be so rich and influential," Avery remarked with light irony. "Luckily, such hindrances have passed me by. I'm not such a high-flying bird… what about you, Cassius?"
"Yeah, who could kidnap me? I'd kidnap anyone myself."
"You're slipping, Arcturus. Try to kidnap me, and I wouldn't surrender without a fight. Everyone would regret it," Dexter muttered, crossing his arms over his chest. With this banal technique, he was clearly trying to get me to open up… After all, Blackmore was the weakest schemer among us, so we chuckled in unison at his childish trick.
Amanda, smiling venomously, decided to finish off Dexter's failed attempt.
"Well, Arcturus regularly beats both of you — you, Cassius, and you, Dexter — in duels. If he could be kidnapped…"
Dexter flushed, just as the blonde had intended. I could see that sly spark in her eyes.
"I could definitely hold my own against him now! I trained with my uncle all summer like crazy. I even passed the home exam for combat magic for Auror training," he declared, straightening up. There was no hint of a joke or a clever move. Just the truth. "And with Cassius by my side, we could definitely come out on top! Cassius wasn't idle either."
What you couldn't deny Dexter was his direct and tough voice. It immediately gave seriousness to the conversation.
"Actually, I did resist, but it's not so easy when you don't have your wand and you're disoriented. And also, this is how you should provoke someone emotionally to get information. You've been had, my friend."
Here we laughed again, not understanding how Blackmore, who was now arguing with Amanda about whether she had provoked him and that he had intentionally reacted so strongly and hadn't given away any information.
I watched their bickering, feeling the tension gradually ease. They were right. I should show them my trust; after all, I had big plans for the Advisors. They deserved to know part of the truth; it would strengthen their trust in me, and I, in turn, wouldn't lose anything.
"Alright," I said quietly, drawing their attention. "I would have told you anyway, because we must trust each other. Our Council should always be above prohibitions, illusory gains, and personal relationships. I'm telling you because I'm confident that everyone here understands that everything said must remain between us. It couldn't be otherwise; otherwise, others would occupy the seats on the Council."
After that, I began my story, of course, describing everything without too much detail. But I did tell them roughly everything. Starting from how I was kidnapped and why such cases wouldn't happen again, not only with me but with everyone else.
I also told them that the guards and such treatment from adults were justified by the fact that all sorts of marginal and not-so-marginal individuals might get the foolish idea that they could also attack or attempt to kidnap children from wealthy and influential families and get away with it.
Of course, I decided not to tell them that I didn't remember part of it. In fact, I didn't particularly mention that my memory had been erased. Although that was probably obvious.
"Even a demonstrative flogging can't guarantee that someone from Knockturn Alley won't gather a couple of friends and try to pull off a kidnapping or get revenge for past grievances. Many definitely didn't understand that punishment followed, though in the near future, it will be constantly written in the newspapers that those guilty of my kidnapping have been punished, specifically for those who didn't understand. However, this might only affect reasonable people, but the real danger is the dregs of society, who aren't distinguished by particular intelligence or awareness."
I was telling them the pure truth, explaining that those who would risk and commit such folly likely either don't grasp the full danger after one kidnapping incident or believe the guilty weren't found. Or that those guilty were simply dumber than them, but they would definitely be able to pull it off without being traced. Of course, such people wouldn't even be able to cover their tracks and would do everything far less competently and intelligently than Godfrey Unsworth had.
These marginal personalities with low intellect were the main danger — they could smell a drop of blood from a wound and think that if there's blood, they could take down a colossus.
"Now my situation with the assigned guards is clearer. Thank you, Arcturus, for satisfying my curiosity. But let's forget about the kidnapping for a minute and return to another, completely unrelated topic," Amanda said with sarcasm, as everyone understood perfectly well. "So, where exactly did our former prefect disappear to after the sad and swift demise of the entire Unsworth family?"
Everyone tensed a bit at Amanda's question. Everyone here understood perfectly well that the Unsworths had received their punishment for my kidnapping. In my story, I had tried my best not to directly link that surname to my kidnapping. As they had during their questions.
"Amanda, do you remember our dance at the annual Ministry gala?" I asked, leaning on the table between us and steepling my fingers.
At my question, she nodded, tensing slightly.
"Of course, an unforgettable evening," she replied. In response to her words, Nott rolled her eyes, and Cassius nudged Avery with his shoulder.
I looked carefully into her eyes, trying to understand how she felt about me, but she seemed to remain as contradictory and unusual as ever, making it impossible to read her like an open book. Only after a short pause did I finish my thought, answering her question.
"I said back then that Unsworth would no longer cause trouble for me and our Council. As it turned out later, I wasn't entirely right at that moment. Now, I have personally corrected my verbal misstep. After all, it's bad when words carry no weight and are thrown into the air. Now my words correspond to reality."
"Is that so. Seems I worried about that for nothing then," Amanda replied, unsure if she was ready for such an answer.
But we both knew that wasn't what she had been worried about then. It was from that moment our relationship had taken many steps back. It had been unpleasant to learn at the time that she was hiding such important information from me. Information about our future engagement.
Conversations after my chilling, hint-laden answer stopped for a while, until Cassius threw in another topic for discussion.
The conversation turned to the first-years, veering into who was noteworthy this year. We already knew a few notable names and surnames, but we'd find out for sure at the Sorting and afterward.
Somehow, from this topic, we veered onto the topic of the upcoming Minister of Magic election, which was literally around the corner, and then we somehow got to the topic of the recent death of the last representative of one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight — Morfin Gaunt. He was serving a life sentence on the middle levels of Azkaban for the brutal murder of an entire Muggle family and performing a particularly dark ritual in the same place.
I knew it had been done by none other than Voldemort, but we still kicked around the topic that he'd been imprisoned for performing the ritual, and the murders were just proof the ritual was dark. After all, they wouldn't imprison a Lord for life just for that.
We all complained a bit that rituals were becoming more and more restricted on the islands. For that statement, Amanda and I, of course, were rebuked and grumbled at, reminded that our parents sit in the Wizengamot. I tried to defend myself by saying it was the influence of an external, more powerful faction, but a residue of thought remained in my mind.
How!? How, with such influence, did Father and all the others from the dark faction allow increasing infringement of our rights and privileges… and these weren't just our rights, but the freedom of magical tradition itself. And that freedom was becoming more and more limited.
No, I understood, of course, that it was Dumbledore's doing and that you can't fight force with force, but it angered me… it angered me that nothing could be done about it. I, of course, mentioned the fact that the external faction was supported by the Supreme Warlock of the Wizengamot, i.e., the Chief Warlock. Who is none other than our Headmaster.
And so we talked, occasionally interrupted by those who wanted to come in, as I had taken down the Muffliato Charm once we stopped discussing truly important and secret topics.
Regarding the noise, the peak was in the first half-hour to an hour, and after that the journey was more or less peaceful, and if someone became too bothersome, there were people in the compartments to the left and right who wouldn't mind getting up and explaining clearly to all the dimwits that they were disturbing decent people enjoying their conversation.
It was amusing, of course, how the Slytherin Council had changed the life of the younger part of our house, especially ours, now almost third-years, and also the current second-years. The same would happen with this year's first-years.
We would do the same with the first-years as we did with the current second-years. The second-years this year, closer to winter, would finally become part of my hierarchical power structure, where, of course, I occupied the highest position.
When there's a common idea, it's easy with simple symbols, a couple of examples, and a show of force, backed by real power, to make people believe in that idea and be willing to do much for its execution. But on such a small idea as simply a school house council, I didn't want to stop.
All this was merely preparation for a goal so grand that revealing just a part of this idea, this plan, would be enough for the fanatical devotion of at least the Advisors, and in the future, those who simply obey the Slytherin Council. For now, I was trying to understand if the right moment had come, or if I should postpone unveiling the plan for a year or two.