Chapter Text
The dungeons felt colder than usual.
Not the usual damp chill, something sharper, something that crawled under Vlad’s skin. He walked slowly, every step echoing too loudly in the empty corridor. His clothes still smelled faintly of smoke and ash. His hands wouldn’t stop shaking.
He pushed open the door to the Slytherin common room.
Warm green light washed over him. Students lounged on sofas, whispering about exams and gossip and nothing that mattered.
Draco stood the moment Vlad entered.
Not storming, not shouting, just standing.
His eyes were wide, pale, searching Vlad’s face like he was checking for injuries.
“Where were you?”
Vlad froze.
Draco stepped closer, voice low and tight. “You disappeared. You didn’t come back. I waited for hours.”
Vlad swallowed. “I, I had to help them.”
Draco’s jaw clenched. “Of course you did.”
Vlad winced. “Draco”
“No.” Draco’s voice cracked. “You don’t get to vanish and then just walk in like nothing happened.”
Vlad looked down. “I’m sorry.”
Draco stared at him for a long moment. Then his expression shifted, anger melting into something rawer.
Fear.
“You look awful,” Draco whispered. “What happened?”
Vlad hesitated.
He couldn’t tell Draco everything. Not about Quirrell. Not about the face. Not about the voice in his head.
But he couldn’t lie either.
“Something dangerous,” Vlad said quietly. “Something I can’t explain yet.”
Draco’s breath hitched. “Are you hurt?”
“No.”
“Are you lying?”
Vlad shook his head.
Draco stepped closer, lowering his voice. “If Potter dragged you into something”
“He didn’t,” Vlad said quickly. “I chose to go.”
Draco flinched.
Vlad reached out, but Draco stepped back.
“Just, don’t do that again,” Draco whispered. “Don’t disappear.”
Vlad nodded. “I won’t.”
Draco didn’t look convinced.
But he didn’t walk away.
He just sat down beside Vlad on the sofa, close enough that their shoulders brushed, saying nothing.
And for now, that was enough.
The next morning, Vlad slipped out early, before Draco woke. The castle was quiet, sunlight filtering through the high windows in soft gold beams.
He pushed open the doors to the hospital wing.
Harry and Ron lay in beds near the window, both pale but breathing steadily. Ron snored loudly. Harry slept with his hand curled loosely around the blanket, brow furrowed even in rest.
Hermione sat between them, a book open in her lap.
She looked up when Vlad entered.
Her eyes softened. “You’re okay.”
Vlad nodded. “You are too.”
She stood, stepping closer. “Harry told me what happened. Or what he remembers.”
Vlad swallowed. “He doesn’t remember much.”
“No,” Hermione said quietly. “But he remembers you were there.”
Vlad looked at Harry, guilt twisting in his chest. “I couldn’t stop it.”
Hermione shook her head. “You helped him. That’s what matters.”
Vlad hesitated. “Is he going to be alright?”
“Yes,” Hermione said firmly. “Madam Pomfrey says he just needs rest.”
Vlad exhaled shakily.
Hermione studied him for a moment. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
Vlad forced a smile. “I’m fine.”
Hermione didn’t believe him.
But she didn’t push.
She just squeezed his hand gently. “Thank you for being there for him.”
Vlad nodded, throat tight.
Vlad left the hospital wing quietly, slipping into the corridor.
Dumbledore was waiting just up ahead.
He stood with his hands clasped behind his back, eyes twinkling, not with amusement, but with understanding.
“Vlad,” he said softly. “Walk with me.”
Vlad followed him down the corridor, heart pounding.
Dumbledore spoke gently. “You showed great courage last night.”
Vlad swallowed. “I didn’t do anything.”
“You resisted something very old,” Dumbledore said. “Something very powerful.”
Vlad’s breath caught. “You know what I am.”
Dumbledore smiled faintly. “I have known since the day you arrived.”
Vlad looked away. “I’m not fully anything yet.”
“No,” Dumbledore agreed. “Not until you are sixteen.”
Vlad’s chest tightened. “Does that make me dangerous?”
Dumbledore stopped walking.
He turned to Vlad, placing a warm hand on his shoulder.
“It makes you unique,” he said gently. “And it means you will face challenges others cannot imagine.”
Vlad’s voice shook. “The voice it knew me.”
“Yes,” Dumbledore said quietly. “And it will not forget you.”
Vlad’s stomach twisted. “Why me?”
Dumbledore’s eyes softened. “Because darkness recognizes its opposite. And because you are far more powerful than you realize.”
Vlad stared at him. “I don’t want to be.”
Dumbledore smiled sadly. “Power rarely asks permission.”
Vlad looked down. “What do I do now?”
“You live,” Dumbledore said simply. “You learn and you grow, and when the time comes you choose who you will become.”
Vlad nodded slowly.
Dumbledore squeezed his shoulder. “And remember, you are not alone.”
Vlad wasn’t sure he believed that.
But it helped.
A little.
The Great Hall glittered with floating candles and banners. Gold and scarlet hung from the rafters, Gryffindor had won the House Cup, thanks to Harry and the others last‑minute points.
Vlad slipped in quietly, still feeling the echo of the chamber deep in his bones. Students laughed, cheered and clapped. Plates overflowed with food. The air buzzed with excitement.
But the moment Vlad stepped inside, the noise dipped.
Just slightly.
Just enough for him to feel it.
Slytherins turned to look at him, some curious, some wary, some whispering behind their hands. He braced himself for the usual cold shoulders.
Instead, Pansy Parkinson scooted over on the bench.
“Sit,” she said, like it was an order.
Vlad blinked. “Are you sure?”
Draco, sitting across from her, rolled his eyes. “Obviously. You look like you’re about to fall over.”
Vlad sat.
Blaise Zabini leaned in. “We heard you were in the hospital wing.”
Vlad stiffened. “I wasn’t hurt.”
“Didn’t say you were,” Blaise replied smoothly. “Just that you were there.”
Daphne nodded. “We were worried.”
Pansy elbowed her. “We were curious.”
Daphne shrugged. “Same thing.”
Draco didn’t say anything at first. He just watched Vlad with that unreadable expression he’d worn since the night of the Stone.
Then, quietly, he said “You came back.”
Vlad nodded. “Of course I did.”
Draco looked away. “Good.”
And just like that, the tension eased.
Slytherins didn’t hug, they didn’t gush and they didn’t ask if you were okay.
They made space at the table, they insulted you affectionately and they pretended they hadn’t been worried sick.
And Vlad felt something warm settle in his chest. Belonging.
In their own strange way, they had accepted him.
The Hogwarts Express hissed with steam as students boarded, chattering excitedly about summer plans. Vlad carried his trunk down the corridor, expecting to sit alone or maybe hover awkwardly near the trio’s compartment.
But when he passed the Slytherin carriage, a familiar voice called out.
“Vlad!”
Draco leaned out of a compartment door, waving him over with a casual flick of his hand, the kind of gesture that meant I’ve already decided you’re sitting with us, don’t argue.
Inside, Pansy, Blaise, and Theo Nott were already sprawled across the seats.
Pansy patted the spot beside her. “Sit. Before someone else takes it.”
Vlad smiled and sat down.
Draco dropped into the seat opposite him, arms crossed. “So... you’re not planning on disappearing again next year, right?”
Vlad laughed softly. “I’ll try not to.”
Theo raised an eyebrow. “Try?”
Blaise smirked. “He’s dramatic. Let him have his mystery.”
Pansy nudged Vlad. “Just don’t get yourself killed. It’d be annoying.”
Vlad grinned. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
The train lurched forward, and the compartment filled with warm chatter and Draco complaining about homework, Pansy gossiping, Blaise making dry comments that made everyone snort.
For the first the since arriving at Hogwarts, Vlad felt settled.
Later, when the others dozed or played exploding snap, Vlad slipped out to check on Harry and Ron.
He found Hermione sitting with them, reading quietly while the boys slept.
She looked up and smiled. “They’ll be alright.”
Vlad nodded. “I know.”
Hermione studied him for a moment. “You look happier.”
“I am,” Vlad admitted. “Slytherin, they’re different. But they’re not bad.”
Hermione’s smile softened. “I never thought they were. Just complicated.”
Vlad laughed. “That’s one word for it.”
She closed her book. “You’re going to be okay, Vlad.”
Vlad hesitated. “You think so?”
“I know so,” Hermione said firmly. “You have people who care about you. On both sides.”
Vlad’s chest tightened in a good way.
He said goodbye and slipped back to the Slytherin compartment.
Draco looked up immediately. “Where’d you go?”
“Just checking on Harry and Ron.”
Draco rolled his eyes. “Of course you did.”
But he shifted over, making room for Vlad to sit beside him again.
And that said everything.
As the train sped toward London, Vlad leaned back against the seat, listening to the soft hum of conversation around him.
He wasn’t just tolerated anymore, e wasn’t the strange new boy with secrets.
He was one of them. A Slytherin. Protected in their own sharp‑edged, prickly, fiercely loyal way.
And as the countryside blurred past the window, Vlad allowed himself to believe, just for a moment, that next year might be better.
-End of book one.