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THE next morning, Athena was jolted awake when Lucinda abruptly yanked off her covers. Groaning, Athena buried her face in her pillow, hoping for a few more minutes of sleep. But as the realization hit her— today was her first day at Hogwarts and the start of her classes— she sprang out of bed.

"Good morning to you, too!" Lucinda said with a hint of sarcasm, shaking her head in mock disapproval as she grabbed Druella's hairbrush and began using it on her own unruly hair.

"That's foul, Lucinda," Druella grumbled, crossing her arms and glaring at her friend. Lucinda's cheeky smile was met with Druella's disapproving look. Druella, already dressed in her neatly pressed Slytherin uniform and with her blonde hair secured by a dark green headband, gave Lucinda an irritated look. "You've got your own brush."

"Yeah, but I couldn't muster the energy to dig it out of my trunk," Lucinda retorted, returning the brush to Druella after finishing with her own hair. Turning to Athena, she asked, "Are you ready?"

Athena, now fully dressed and prepared in record time, took a final glance at her reflection and nodded. "I am. Shall we?"

"Yes, I'm starving!" Lucinda exclaimed as they headed out of the dormitory. Druella muttered a faintly scandalized "unladylike" under her breath, which Lucinda chose to ignore. Her mind was already on the bacon and eggs that Hogwarts served for breakfast. If Lucinda didn't know any better, she'd personally thank each house-elf in the kitchens and kiss them on the cheek for the wonderful food they always made.

As they made their way through the grand corridors of Hogwarts, Athena was awestruck by the ancient architecture. Beauxbatons had been beautiful, but Hogwarts was dark and mysterious, its walls adorned with moving portraits. Athena loved it already and couldn't wait to spend her free time in the courtyard with a good book—once she had survived her classes, of course.

"Finally," Lucinda murmured with relief as they reached the Slytherin table in the Great Hall and she immediately began piling food onto her plate.

Athena poured herself a cup of black coffee and scanned the room, her gaze settling on the teachers' table where the professors and Headmaster Armando Dippet were seated.

Curious, Athena asked Druella, who was observing Lucinda with a look of mild exasperation as she devoured her breakfast, "Who are the professors?"

Druella pointed out each professor as she spoke. "That's Horace Slughorn, our Potions professor and Head of House. Next is Galatea Merrythought, our Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. Over there is Tryphenna Vassy, Charms professor and Ravenclaw's Head of House. That's Armstrong Diggory, our Herbology professor and Hufflepuff's Head of House. And that one–" she began to point towards the last professor, but was interrupted.

"Is Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore," a voice behind them finished.

Druella and Athena turned around, sharing a look. Lucinda, who had been engrossed in her breakfast, stopped mid-chew and fixed a glare on the speaker.

"What do you want, Riddle?" Druella asked, raising an eyebrow.

"He is the Transfiguration professor, Gryffindor's Head of House, and Deputy Headmaster," Tom Riddle completed with a smirk, though his gaze was fixed on Athena. Ignoring Druella, he sneered, "I suggest you return to Beauxbatons, Malfoy. You will never fit in here."

Athena raised an eyebrow, wondering if he was serious.

She exchanged a glance with Druella, who looked away, clearly unwilling to intervene. Tom seemed to still be smarting from their encounter on the train yesterday.

Standing up, Athena met Tom's gaze head-on. "I belong here far more than you do, half-blood."

The Slytherins around them reacted visibly. Druella's hand flew to her mouth to stifle a gasp, while Lucinda's spoon clattered onto her plate as she suppressed a laugh, her efforts only drawing a sharp look from Riddle.

The boys accompanying Tom paled, exchanging worried glances. Abraxas stepped forward, shaking his head slightly in warning. "Athena."

"No, Abraxas," Tom snapped, glaring at Athena with a jaw clenched so tightly it seemed ready to break. He took a step closer, towering over her. Athena remained unmoved. "What did you call me?"

"A half-blood," Athena repeated boldly, shrugging despite Abraxas's warning glare. "What? He can't dictate where I belong. Also—" she turned back to Riddle, meeting his dark eyes directly, "—I will show you exactly how I belong, Riddle."

Tom's eyes flashed with anger, but before he could respond, Professor Slughorn approached, holding out their schedules. "Easy there, Tom," Slughorn said with a nervous chuckle, sensing the tension. Turning to Athena, he added, "Ah, you must be Athena Malfoy. Headmaster Dippet spoke highly of you. I hope your first day goes well. If you have any concerns, feel free to come to me."

Athena maintained her gaze on Riddle as she responded, "Thank you, professor. I will."

"This isn't over," Riddle hissed coldly, his disdain evident.

Athena scoffed, waving a dismissive hand. "Over? Riddle, it hasn't even begun."

As soon as they exited the Great Hall, Druella's voice cut through the morning air, sharp and scolding. "You ought not to do that, ever again!" She was practically hissing as they headed toward Potions, the first class of the day.

Athena tried to keep her composure, though the rage simmering beneath her cool exterior was hard to ignore. Her gaze drifted over to Tom Riddle, who was walking in the same direction, though with his usual entourage trailing behind him.

"He ought never to disrespect me again," Athena muttered, her voice steady but laced with venom.

Lucinda, walking beside them, couldn't help but laugh.

It was a rare sight—someone standing up to Riddle—and she was clearly amused by the encounter. She never quite understood why her older brother, Edmund Avery, and his friends clung to Riddle like shadows. But the laughter died on her lips as thoughts of her brother clouded her mind. She fell silent, lost in her own world as they continued walking.

"Athena—" Druella suddenly stopped, her hand gripping Athena's arm tightly. She turned Athena to face her, worry etched into every line of her expression. "You do not know who you are dealing with," she said, her voice a mix of urgency and fear.

Athena raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed by Druella's words. "And who, exactly, am I dealing with, Druella?" she asked, crossing her arms, her tone more bored than concerned. She stood there, waiting for an answer, while Druella hesitated, her usual confidence shaken.

Druella opened her mouth, then closed it again, struggling to find the right words. Her brow furrowed as she searched for something to say, her gaze filled with an emotion Athena almost didn't recognize—worry. It was a rare sight, especially directed at her.

"I advise you to stay away from Riddle. Do not reply to whatever he says," Druella finally managed, her voice dropping to a near whisper as she opened the door to the Potions classroom. Without waiting for a response, she stepped inside, leaving Athena to follow with Lucinda trailing behind.

Confusion gnawed at Athena as she took each step, trying to piece together what Druella had meant. To her, Riddle was nothing more than a bully with a bit too much ambition. Dangerous? Hardly.

"Have a seat, Ms. Malfoy." Slughorn's booming voice pulled her from her thoughts.

Athena quickly scanned the room before settling at a desk in the back on the Slytherin side, a cauldron in front of her. She cast a brief glance at the other half of the classroom where the Gryffindors sat, their red badges standing out against their robes.

"Today, you all will be making The Draught of Living Death," Professor Slughorn announced, instantly capturing the attention of the room. He paused, letting the gravity of the task sink in. "It is terribly tricky to make, but I reckon you all need something to push you to greatness. The ingredients are in the cupboards—" he gestured to the corner of the room "—and you have an hour. Best of luck!"

Athena rose from her seat and moved toward the cupboards, her mind still half-occupied with Druella's warning. She was so lost in thought that she didn't notice when someone bumped into her.

"Watch it," she hissed, turning to glare at the offender.

Dorian Nott winced, raising his hands in apology. "Sorry, Malfoy. Honest mistake." His tone was sheepish as he pointed toward an ingredient near her. "Could you pass me that?"

Athena hesitated for a moment before handing him the ingredient, offering a small, reluctant smile as guilt washed over her.

Nott muttered his thanks and turned to leave but paused, a thought crossing his mind. He glanced around the classroom, ensuring no one was paying them any attention, then leaned in slightly. "Oh, and Malfoy?" He waited until she hummed in acknowledgment. "Do not underestimate Riddle."

Athena opened her mouth to respond, but before she could, Nott was already walking away, leaving her staring after him, bewildered. Shaking her head, she returned to her desk with the ingredients, trying to refocus on the task at hand.

As she began working on the potion, her mind wandered again. She had a feeling she was getting herself into something—something difficult, something potentially dangerous. But one thing about Athena Ravena Malfoy was that she thrived in the face of challenges.

She poured every ounce of her focus into the potion, using the turmoil inside her as fuel. Twenty minutes later, she stood back, inspecting the perfectly brewed Draught of Living Death. The potion was flawless, its pale, pearlescent color a testament to her skill.

Professor Slughorn's delighted gasp echoed through the room as he lifted her vial for all to see. "Ms. Malfoy has made the potion perfectly and in under half an hour!" he announced, eyes wide with admiration. "That's a new record. Twenty points to Slytherin!"

Athena simply nodded, offering a cool "Thank you, sir."

She wasn't surprised by her success.

But someone else was.

Tom Riddle stared at her from across the room, a frown deepening on his face as he watched her. His own potion bubbled away in front of him, but his thoughts were elsewhere. The irritation simmering inside him was confusing—how had this girl, whom he'd only met yesterday, managed to get under his skin so quickly?

"Ah, Tom. Wonderful potion as always." Professor Slughorn's voice jolted him back to the present. Slughorn was peering into Tom's cauldron, clearly pleased.

"Thank you, sir," Tom replied, his voice calm, but his mind still not entirely on his own potion.

Perfection came naturally to Tom Riddle.

And apparently, it did to Athena Malfoy as well.

Tom shook his head, dismissing the thought. No one could outdo him—especially not in academics. Her quick success was nothing more than luck.

Transfiguration went by without any problems. Athena spent the class next to Lucinda, while Druella sat beside Cygnus Black. Professor Dumbledore was a wonderful teacher, Athena concluded as she walked out of the classroom after the class ended.

Lucinda walked beside her, noticing Druella staying behind with Cygnus. "How are you liking Hogwarts so far?" she asked, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and slipping her books into her bag.

Athena glanced at her from the corner of her eye, almost smiling. "I quite like it here," she replied honestly, then shook her head. "The people make me confused, though."

"It's only your first day. You'll get used to it."

Athena nodded, knowing Lucinda was right. As they continued down the corridors toward their next class, something caught Athena's attention.

A huge room, filled with towering bookshelves and countless volumes. The space was dimly lit, the echoes of knowledge almost whispering to her.

She took a step forward, drawn to the room like a magnet.

"That's the library." Lucinda's voice snapped her out of her daze, a smile playing on her lips at the curiosity in Athena's eyes. "Do you read?"

Athena nodded immediately. "Mostly Dark Arts," she admitted, her gaze still fixed on the library. "Beauxbatons' library was nowhere near as beautiful as this. It was rather tiny and only had books in French."

"Do you not know French?" Lucinda asked, her small frown filled with curiosity. Purebloods were typically taught French from a young age. Lucinda's own father had taken it upon himself to teach her and her brother Edmund in their manor's library, a place filled with lessons about the world they were expected to navigate. The memory stirred something painful within her, and she quickly looked away, swallowing the lump that formed in her throat.

"I do," Athena replied, finally looking at her and noticing the distant expression. "Are you alright?"

Lucinda managed a weak nod, continuing to walk, prompting Athena to follow. "The Dark Arts books are hidden, tucked into the shelves of the Restricted Section. Students are forbidden from accessing them. They could get into huge trouble," she explained, her voice steady despite the effort to keep her emotions in check.

Athena didn't reply. Instead, she continued walking with Lucinda, heading to their third class of the day: Defense Against the Dark Arts.

Dinner that evening in the Great Hall was pleasant.

Athena found herself engaged in conversation with her two closest friends, and despite her usual aloofness, she couldn't deny the warmth she felt toward them. Deep down, she hoped the years they had left at Hogwarts would be spent together, solidifying the bond they were slowly but surely building.

As they talked, Athena couldn't help but notice Druella's constant rigidness—the way she held herself with an air of superiority, her every word and action filtered through her deeply ingrained pureblood and traditionalist views. In contrast, Lucinda was a breath of fresh air, more relaxed and carefree, often bringing a sense of light to their group.

"—pass me the pumpkin juice, will you?" Druella's voice interrupted Athena's thoughts. She nodded absentmindedly and handed over the jug. As she did, her gaze fell on the cup in front of Lucinda. The liquid inside was definitely not pumpkin juice.

Lucinda met Athena's questioning look with a mischievous grin before casually raising the cup to her lips.

Druella, ever observant, caught sight of the drink and recoiled in disgust. Her nose wrinkled as she turned to Lucinda with a scandalized whisper, "Is that firewhiskey, Lucinda Elias Avery?!"

Lucinda winced, her attempt at lying woefully unconvincing. "No?" she replied, though it came out more as a question than a denial.

Without hesitation, Druella snatched the cup from Lucinda's hand. A quick flick of her wand, and the offending drink vanished. She poured pumpkin juice into a fresh goblet and handed it back to Lucinda, who accepted it with a muttered string of profanities.

Druella ignored her, returning to her own dinner, while Athena watched the exchange with an amused smile tugging at her lips.

Suddenly, the massive doors of the Great Hall swung open, and a flock of owls soared in, signaling the evening mail delivery. Excited chatter filled the air from the other tables, but Athena barely glanced at them. Instead, her focus shifted to the Slytherin table, where the usual confidence was replaced by pale faces and tense expressions as owls dropped letters onto laps.

Her gaze stopped on her brother, Abraxas, who stared at the letter now lying in front of him. He looked up, their eyes meeting across the table. Athena scoffed and rolled her eyes, turning away in irritation. Of course, Abraxas would receive a letter, while she, once again, was left with nothing. On one hand, she was relieved not to have to deal with their parents, but a small part of her still yearned for their attention, their approval.

Abraxas finally broke their eye contact and opened his letter, his expression unreadable as he absorbed its contents. Athena glanced around and noticed Druella reading a letter as well. Druella's mouth opened for a moment, as if she might sigh, but instead, she closed it and carefully folded the letter, then tucked it into her bag, keeping her emotions in check.

Lucinda, however, had a different reaction entirely. Without even glancing at the letter before her, she drew her wand and murmured, "Incendio."

The parchment burst into flames, quickly reducing to ash as she watched it burn with a satisfied expression.

Athena watched the ashes float away, a strange sense of understanding settling over her.

Perhaps she was lucky not to have to face the expectations and constant scrutiny from her parents that her friends seemed to endure.

While the Gryffindors, Ravenclaws, and Hufflepuffs around them appeared delighted by their letters, the Slytherins looked as if they had just been handed their death sentences—pale faces, trembling hands, each of them burdened by the weight of their family's demands.

Athena was snapped out of her thoughts when she noticed Abraxas approaching her. He leaned in close, his voice barely above a whisper, "Mother told me to warn you about tainting the Malfoy name. She says not to get mixed with mudbloods and blood traitors."

Athena felt a surge of anger rise within her, but she kept her face neutral, unwilling to show any emotion in front of her friends. "Abraxas," she whispered back, her tone icy, "I am as much a Malfoy as you are. I know better than to associate with mudbloods and blood traitors."

Abraxas shrugged, indifferent. "I'm just passing along the message," he said before walking back to his own group of friends.

Athena clenched her jaw, the bitterness welling up inside her.

Lucky? No, she wasn't lucky.

No matter how hard she tried, her parents always expected the worst of her, even though she had never given them a reason to doubt her.