Perhaps it was for the students’ safety.
Or maybe for reasons no one really knew.
Aside from special holidays, Astronomy classes, or with direct permission from the professors, students were generally not allowed to wander Hogwarts at night.
No—not even with company.
So, as Draco made his way back to Slytherin House, he didn’t see a single other student along the way...
Silence.
Only the moonlight lit the corridor.
The only sound was the echo of Draco’s own footsteps.
In that mont, it felt as if he were the only person left in the entire school.
As if he were the sole master of this ancient castle...
“There are a lot of statues here.”
It was different from when he’d first arrived.
Now, as Draco walked and looked around, he noticed sothing odd.
Well, not quite odd—just... off.
There seed to be an unusually large number of statues holding swords and shields lining the halls...
Besides the statues, the portraits hanging on the walls also caught his attention. So waved at him now and then.
These weren’t just decorations—they represented Hogwarts’ long and storied past.
They were said to be portraits of forr professors and wizards who had once worked at the school.
But from the look of it, most of the portraits’ subjects weren’t currently in their fras.
Maybe they’d all gone off to rest.
Draco continued strolling with a curious, almost leisurely pace...
Then—suddenly—a cat’s ow echoed softly near his ear.
“ow~”
"A cat?"
A thin, scruffy-looking cat with dull gray fur slinked up beside him. It paused, gave him a quick once-over, then—completely unafraid—began rubbing against his legs.
Draco didn’t know much about cat breeds.
Honestly, if it hadn’t owed, he might not have recognized the bony little thing as a cat at all...
He looked down at the animal brushing up against him.
Then glanced at the rperson liver he was still holding.
Without a word, Draco tucked the rare ingredient deep into the folds of his robe.
It was a valuable material he’d gotten from Snape, after all.
He had no idea why this cat was so friendly toward him, or why it was even here.
But as he crouched down to scratch behind its ears, he subtly adjusted his robe, staying alert... just in case.
"It must belong to soone, right? And... I feel like I’ve seen you sowhere before."
Back during the Sorting Ceremony, the Greatest Wizard had introduced all the professors and staff at Hogwarts to the first-years.
But Draco hadn’t been paying attention at all.
Naturally, he’d missed the chance to get familiar with the professors—and with a certain gatekeeper.
Just as Draco was debating whether to offer the cat a bit of the rperson liver...
A figure suddenly hurried around the corner of the corridor...
"Let see which little troublemaker dared to wander around after curfew—"
The voice was sharp, full of annoyance—until the figure saw Draco’s face.
Then, like soone had grabbed him by the throat, his voice caught and warped into sothing strange.
"The Malfoy boy..."
Well. It was pretty obvious why this man looked terrified.
Or rather, what he was really afraid of—what Draco represented.
"Why... why are you here... all alone?"
As the man spoke, the scruffy little cat suddenly seed to rember who it belonged to and scampered back to its master’s side.
Draco stood up, brushing off his robes, and gave the man a curious look.
Male.
Old.
Disheveled gray hair spilling down his shoulders.
A lantern in one hand.
His robes were so worn-out that it was hard not to wonder how long he’d been wearing them.
To anyone unfamiliar, he looked more like a hunter who’d just wandered out of Yharnam than a Hogwarts staff mber.
Then it hit Draco.
This man must be the gatekeeper of Hogwarts.
"Filch... Filch..."
"Argus Filch, Mr. Malfoy."
"Apologies, I was called to Professor Snape’s office, so..."
"I see. In that case, no problem."
With that, Filch turned and quickly disappeared down the corridor with his cat in tow.
There was sothing strangely complex in his expression—and his hasty retreat was easy to spot, even in the dark.
Draco watched him go, feeling puzzled.
"Strange man."
It wasn’t surprising that Filch recognized who he was.
His nervousness was understandable too.
But the way he acted after that—as if overwheld—Draco really couldn’t figure out.
Had he said sothing wrong?
This little incident only left the faintest impression on Draco.
Chances were, he’d forget all about it before long.
...
Even the longest road eventually cos to an end.
Truth be told, Snape’s office wasn’t far from the Slytherin common room.
Not long after parting ways with the gatekeeper, Draco found himself back at the familiar wall.
"Pretty sure it was... Pure-blood!"
He spoke the password, and the spiral staircase behind the wall began to move, leading him straight back to his dormitory.
Barring any surprises, this would be his room for the next few years—at least until he beca a Prefect.
Just like the common room, the Slytherin dormitory followed the sa design principles:
Surrounded by water.
Green and silver everywhere.
The sounds of Goyle and Crabbe snoring filled the air.
Draco removed his robe and changed into his sleepwear.
But instead of heading straight to bed, he stood before the large water tank, its surface twinkling with specks of starlight.
Dark.
Deep.
He could faintly see sothing like tentacles drifting within—like a great octopus moving through the shadows.
"Followers..."
If anything stood out from today—aside from the interesting little witch he’d t—it was what happened during the Sorting Ceremony.
Despite how composed he had seed on the surface...
That mont had stirred sothing new in Draco, who had always cared only for mastering magic.
For the first ti, he’d felt the urge to do sothing more.
It was faint—but it was real.
...
Without soldiers willing to give everything...
Can a king...
Still call himself king?
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