Late at night, a fire roared in the Forbidden Forest, but Hogwarts' professors quickly spotted it. Before it could destroy much, they arrived, wands raised, casting spells to douse the flames. For wizards, putting out fires was easy. With magic and potions, even charred trees could be restored. In no time, the forest would look untouched.
Standing among the burned woods, Dumbledore frowned, his mind heavy. He knew someone was after the Philosopher's Stone and suspected Quirrell, but the fire puzzled him. Why would Quirrell set it? If not him, then who, and for what reason?
"Dumbledore, the shadow Harry saw earlier… could it be him?" Snape began, his voice low.
Snape didn't finish, but Dumbledore understood. He nodded slightly and whispered, "It's very likely him."
"But… isn't he dead? How?" Snape's face twisted with shock. Dumbledore had once hinted that Voldemort might not be truly gone, but Snape thought it was just an old man's worry. Now, hearing that Harry's scar burned and left him helpless when facing the shadow, Snape knew something was wrong. He rushed to Dumbledore, hoping to hear it wasn't Voldemort. But the answer crushed his hopes.
"Severus, Tom is a powerful wizard," Dumbledore said, his voice steady. "No matter how strong Lily's magic was, it likely didn't kill him completely." He turned, his usually kind eyes now sharp and piercing, locking onto Snape's. "So, Severus, are you still willing to pay any price to protect Lily's only child?"
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On his way back to Hogwarts, Sean took a long detour to dodge the professors fighting the fire. He cast the Disillusionment Charm, its cool tingle hiding him, and slipped past Filch's patrols, reaching the Slytherin common room and his room unnoticed.
His plan had worked well, but Quirrell's ambush was a shock. Sean hadn't expected Voldemort-possessed Quirrell to linger after the centaur's chase, watching from the shadows. If not for Quirrell's fear of Dumbledore, Sean might've needed the pocket watch's power to block a deadly spell, a power he could only use once every seven days.
That power was key to his bigger plan—to steal from Quirrell, or even Voldemort's lingering soul, when Harry faced them. Losing it now would ruin everything.
Next, Sean needed the perfect moment to curse Tarquin, his final step.
Lost in thought, Sean lay on his bed, drifting into sleep. He didn't notice a faint silver bloodstain on Kulkan's mouth, licked away by the snake's flickering tongue, gone without a trace.
By morning, news of the Forbidden Forest fire buzzed through Hogwarts. In the wizarding world, fires weren't a big deal if caught early. Wizards could summon water or ice with a flick of their wands, taming flames before they spread. The fire became a quick topic for Hogwarts students, nothing more—no one panicked.
Leaving the library, Sean and Blaise chatted about exams, their books heavy in their arms. Back at the Slytherin common room, they spotted Dorian waiting, his smile too smooth.
Blaise greeted Sean, then headed to his room to change, leaving them alone.
Dorian looked at Sean. "Want to sit down?"
"Sure," Sean said, his voice calm.
They settled in a quiet corner of the common room, the green torches flickering.
Dorian started to call for a Hogwarts elf to bring tea, but Sean stopped him. "No tea, Dorian. Let's get to the point."
Dorian's smile faltered. He sensed recruiting Sean was slipping from his grasp.
Still, he kept his cool, his smile returning. "Alright, Sean, you value time. I like that. Have you thought about my offer? What's your answer?"
Sean met his gaze, direct and firm. "Sorry, Dorian, I've got my own plans. My work with Andy is enough for now. I'm not looking to add more. Thanks for the offer, though—it shows you think I'm capable. I appreciate it."
Dorian's face stiffened for a split second, but he forced a smile. "No problem, Sean. Even if we don't work together, it's fine. I've got to go, but if you change your mind, find me. Goodbye."
Dorian stood and left, his steps quick.
Sean watched him go, saying nothing. He rose and headed to his room, his mind already elsewhere.
At his room's door, Sean saw Blaise Zabini waiting, his face tense. Sean pushed the door open, and they stepped inside together. Glancing at Kulkan, curled and sleeping in its nest, Sean paused. He suddenly noticed Kulkan looked a bit bigger, its scales glinting faintly. But Blaise called out, snapping him back. Thinking it might be a trick of the light, Sean brushed it off.
"Sean, what did you say to Dorian?" Blaise asked, his voice low.
"I just turned him down," Sean said. "Nothing else."
Blaise frowned, worry in his eyes. "Rejecting him is fine, but be careful. When I looked into it, I learned one of Andy's old partners was close to him and said no to Dorian. The next day, that guy got roughed up and quickly changed his mind, joining Dorian. I'm worried about you…"
Blaise trailed off, but Sean got the hint.
"Don't worry, Blaise," Sean said, his tone firm. "I'll keep my eyes open. Honestly, I've been feeling restless lately. A fight might be just what I need to clear my head before exams."
Blaise's face relaxed, remembering Sean's past duels. "Right, I forgot—you're the guy who made a name in those pure-blood fights. Still, be cautious. Dorian's crew won't just send first- or second-years. Fifth- or sixth-years might come for you. You've only been at Hogwarts a year, so watch your back."
"I get it," Sean said, nodding.
They talked a bit more, then headed to the Great Hall for dinner. Afterward, Blaise left for a date with his girlfriend, and Sean planned to join the Potions Club.
Before leaving, Sean glanced at Kulkan again. He'd meant to bring the snake to dinner, as usual, but seeing it still asleep felt odd. It wasn't like Kulkan to sleep so much. He decided to ask Professor Kettleburn in Care of Magical Creatures about it later, just to be sure.
Meanwhile, in Dorian's room, Tarquin stared at him, his face cold and unchanging.
"I told you, Dorian," Tarquin said, his voice sharp. "No need to talk to a Squib like him. Just find a chance to rough him up. He'll do what we want. Why waste time?"
Tarquin's mocking tone stung, and Dorian wanted to snap back. But their partnership—and Tarquin's strength and wild streak—made him hold back. He nodded, forcing a smile. "You're right. I messed this up. If you can handle it, that'd be best."
Tarquin smirked. "Of course. Problem is, Snape's watching me closely these days. I've already sent two of my guys to teach that Squib a lesson he won't forget."
Author's Note:
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