Chapter 1
## CHAPTER ONE
This year at Hogwarts, misfortunes seemed to be piling up endlessly. *—As usual...*
One of the two biggest blights on this year was Dolores Umbridge. The second was... Damon Black, whom the rest of the school, outside of Slytherin house, considered a brand-new omen of bad luck.
Damon had transferred to Hogwarts from Durmstrang at the beginning of the term. He was seventeen, but due to the differences in magic curricula between the schools, it had been deemed appropriate for him to transfer into the fifth year instead of the seventh.
The boy looked a bit... peculiar among the others. His neck, arms, and heavily built, rugged physique were covered in dark tattoos featuring dragons, roses, and intricate symbols. He wore earrings, and amidst his messy black hair was a single streak dyed crimson. While he was known to be exceptionally brilliant at magic, his appearance made him look less like a wizard and more like a Muggle hitman.
To top it all off, the boy usually ran with Draco Malfoy, Mattheo Riddle, Blaise Zabini, Lorenzo Berkshire, and Theodore Nott. Rumors constantly swirled around the school that he was always whispering about something or other with one of them, putting the students of the other three houses thoroughly on edge.
The only people who weren’t bothered by Damon’s presence were his friends and Professor Snape. Snape seemed utterly delighted to have him join his house.
"A transfer from Durmstrang to Hogwarts?" Lee Jordan was scoffing in the Gryffindor common room. "God only knows what kind of dodgy business they’re up to over there... And the bloke looks like total rubbish anyway, I don't trust him as far as I can throw him."
Most people agreed with him. Perhaps his arrival truly was an ill omen. Who knew? But he had certainly made waves; for a few weeks, even Harry wasn’t the main gossip of the school anymore.
The same couldn’t be said for the *Daily Prophet*, of course. As usual, the *Prophet* was busy dragging Harry and Dumbledore through the mud.
**
Harry, Ron, and Hermione were leaving the library late in the evening. Because of the fifth-year exams and assignments, they were having to work three times as hard as last year. Umbridge’s presence wasn't helping either. The woman was driving the entire school ragged, handing out brutal punishments to anyone who dared oppose her. Harry was spending every week in detention with her, having his hand sliced open.
Right now, it was one of those rare moments when Hermione wasn't nagging about schoolwork. As she and Harry walked just behind Ron, they were speaking in hushed tones about what Umbridge was actually plotting.
As they rounded the corridor, they found themselves face-to-face with three Slytherins. Strutting at the front, as arrogant as ever, was Draco Malfoy. On either side of him stood Mattheo Riddle and the new boy, Damon Black.
"Well, well, look who it is," Draco said, eyeing the piles of books clutched in their arms, his face twisting into his usual mocking sneer. "Potter and his loyal sidekicks. We were starting to think you lot had managed to get yourselves lost in the library."
"Mind your own business, Malfoy," Harry said. They pushed forward to pass them, but the Slytherins blocked the path, showing absolutely no intention of stepping aside.
Ron was starting to lose his temper.
"Move it, Malfoy! What's the matter? Teaching your new bloke how to be a proper schoolyard bully at Hogwarts?"
Malfoy was about to fire back a sarcastic retort when Damon stepped forward slowly.
"We should leave them be, boys," he said, fixing his gaze on Ron’s furious face. "The two of them barely scraped a passing grade on the last exam, didn't they? I suppose they need to slave away in the library until dusk just to manage that. They’ve probably got enough of a headache for one day," he murmured, his voice deep and gravelly. His lips curled into a smirk. Yet, there was no malice in that smirk. He didn’t look like he hated them to death the way Malfoy did; he looked more like he was simply amused.
As Damon looked down on them like that, Ron felt a surge of pure, unadulterated fury rush through his veins. He marched right up to Damon, squaring up to him.
"How we do on our exams is none of your business, Black," he said, the tips of his ears turning a violent shade of red, as they always did when he was incensed. "You’ve barely been here a month, and you’re already talking like you own the bloody place. I don't know what kind of books they had you reading at Durmstrang, but at Hogwarts, people who don't know their place get sorted out fast. Just because you're hiding behind Malfoy and Riddle doesn't mean we have to put up with your rubbish!"
Harry, terrified that Ron might cross a line and draw his wand, slapped a firm hand onto his shoulder.
From behind them, Hermione pleaded, "Ron, it's not worth it, let's just go." Her eyes anxiously darted over the new boy standing opposite Ron.
A heavy silence fell. Damon didn't answer right away. His green eyes searched Ron's blazing blue ones for a moment. He remained cool as a cucumber; even though Malfoy looked insulted on his behalf, Damon didn't seem particularly bothered by a Weasley's insults. His gaze lingered for a few seconds longer. Then, he smirked again, slowly. Finally shifting his eyes away from Ron, he looked at Hermione behind them. When he spoke, his voice was still dangerously calm.
"Ah, Granger’s here too. Obsessed with schoolwork, isn't she? You’d better find a way to copy off her, Weasley. Otherwise, it looks like you won't be leaving that library even at night."
With that, the blood rushed straight to Ron's head. Wrenching himself free from Harry's grip, he whipped his wand out of his robes. He took another sharp step toward Damon. They were practically chest-to-chest now. Ron tilted his chin up, trying to close the height gap between them.
"Shut your bloody mouth, Black!!" he bellowed, his voice echoing down the corridor. "Don't you dare take Hermione's name in your filthy mouth! I don't copy, do you think everyone is a cheating, backstabbing Slytherin like you?!"
Hermione tugged frantically at the back of Ron’s robes. "Ron, please! Professor Snape was on this floor just a moment ago. He could pop up at any second, we’ll get detention!"
But Ron didn't even hear her. His eyes, burning like wildfire, were locked onto Damon's.
"Whether we stay in the library at night or not is none of your business. But everyone knows exactly what kind of dodgy shite you and your dark little friends are up to in the sketchy corners of this castle at night!" he spat, his glare targeting both Damon and the two lingering behind him. "You can't just break the rules and swan around Hogwarts like you're untouchable. The next time you cross my path, I won't just be talking. Got it?"
When Ron finally stepped back, Malfoy couldn't take it anymore. He drew his wand and lunged forward.
"How dare you—!"
But Damon caught him by the arm.
"Malfoy..." he said simply, the smirk never leaving his face. When Malfoy snapped his head around to look at him, Damon gave a subtle, fleeting wink. It was a silent, split-second message: *Leave it to me.*
For a moment, this seemed to sting Malfoy's pride. But surprisingly, he didn't argue. "This squib-brained, charity-case Weasley is getting way ahead of himself, Black," he muttered, slowly stepping back.
At this, Ron was on the verge of hexing Malfoy into next week, but Harry managed to hold him back with great effort.
"Ron, drop it! Don't listen to them, let's go! Hermione's right, Snape—"
But this time, Damon cut him off. He stepped closer to Ron.
"Hey, Weasley. You said you'd sort me out the next time I cross your path, right?" he murmured, his hand still lightly gripping Malfoy's wrist to keep him from attacking.
"Yeah, I'm going to modify your face, Black!"
"Well, if you're going to teach me a lesson, why wait for next time? Need that long to build up your courage? Hey, don't look so frightened, Weasley. I won't hurt you too badly."
That was the final straw for Ron. With his face flushing crimson all the way down his neck, he thrust his wand like a knife straight at Damon's chest.
"Let's see who hurts who!"
Just as he was about to slash his wand and let fly a curse, Severus Snape materialized from the shadows at the end of the corridor, his black robes billowing behind him like night itself. His steps were swift and deadly silent.
"What is the meaning of this?" he said, his cold voice cutting through the silence like a scalpel.
"Weasley... Drawing a wand on a student in the middle of a corridor? And with that famous, hot-headed stupidity so typical of a Gryffindor."
Ron froze dead in his tracks at the sound of Snape’s voice. He slowly lowered his wand, which was still aimed squarely at Damon.
"P-Professor, I—"
"Weasley was just about to attack Black, Professor, if you hadn't come along," Malfoy cut in instantly, his tone thoroughly amused now. His wrist was still held in Damon’s grip, and strangely, he hadn't pulled away yet.
Mattheo Riddle, on the other hand, had kept his hand hovering over the wand in his pocket the entire time, watching the scene unfold with a dark, brooding expression.
"He's lying!" Harry chimed in. "Black was baiting Ron right in front of us, Professor!" he pleaded desperately.
But all three of them knew Snape would never pass up an opportunity like this.
"Hogwarts rules do not tolerate such undisciplined, barbaric behavior, Mr. Weasley," Snape said, sounding almost pleased. "Fifty points from Gryffindor. And another ten points each from Potter and Granger for standing by and egging Weasley on. Furthermore, you have detention tonight after dinner in the Potions dungeons assisting Mr. Filch, Weasley. One more word out of you, and that detention becomes a month."
Harry, Ron, and Hermione’s eyes went wide with shock.
"That—that's seventy points!! But Professor—" Harry started, but Hermione yanked the back of his robes so hard it nearly tore, forcing him to shut his mouth.
With the three Slytherins smirking behind him, Snape swept away as quickly as he had arrived, his robes billowing in his wake.
"You're going to pay for this, Black! All of you."
**
END OF CHAPTER ONE
