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WHISPERS FLOATED AROUND THE CORRIDOR THE FOLLOWING DAY. All of which concerning the boy with his lightning bolt scar. Many students had formed crowds in the hallways just to gather a quick look at the so-called chosen one. However, Eloise had no desire to join these crowds herself for a number of reasons.

Although certainly curious about the boy who lived, she'd already had more than one private conversation with the boy and hardly felt the need to endure another. For some of those words still rang in her ears—none of which pleasant. Of course it wasn't just Harry Potter who she was set on ignoring, but the Weasley boy he'd elected as his best friend. The one who'd actually put those thoughts in Potter's mind to begin with.

Adoracíon and Salacia quickly caught on that Eloise had no desire to associate with the Potter boy, and without asking any questions also elected to snub the pair of first years. On more than one occasion, they'd upturned their noses in the air and swiftly walked past the Gryffindor boys between classes—much to the boys' own confusion. There was one morning where the Gryffindor first years appeared in a rush, but they at least made an attempt to appear friendly.

Harry's face brightened as he spotted her walking down the hall between Adoracíon and Salacia. "Good morning, Eloise."

Eloise considered greeting the green-eyed boy; however, her voice caught in her throat as she noticed the skeptical look Ron shot in her direction. His unease only grew as he studied the pair of Slytherin girls at her side. Eloise clamped her mouth shut, tucked her books into her robe, and increased her speed to walk by without a word.

"What's that about?" She heard Harry ask.

"Ignore them, Harry," Ron replied. "They're just another trio of Slytherins that think they're better than us."

Eloise had every intention of continuing her pattern of ignoring them, but it was Adoracíon that whipped around and broke the unspoken pact of silence. "At least some of us have the capacity to think."

Ron's ears turned a light shade of pink. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Adoracíon scoffed, lightly rolling her eyes as she turned her back on the boys like they weren't worth one more second of her time. "It only proves my point if I have to explain."

Ron bristled, but Harry grabbed his arm before things actually turned hostile. "We've got to go, Ron. We're already late for Transfiguration class."

And that was the extent of their conversation. For Eloise had much grander things to worry about than whatever famous first-year was roaming the halls. And many of these concerns came in the shape of trying to navigate the structure of the school itself.

There were a hundred and forty-two staircases at Hogwarts: wide, sweeping ones; narrow, rickety ones; some that led somewhere different on a Friday; some with a vanishing step halfway up that you had to remember to jump. Then there were doors that wouldn't open unless you asked politely, or tickled them in exactly the right place, and doors that weren't really doors at all, but solid walls just pretending. It was also very hard to remember where anything was, because it all seemed to move around a lot. However, by the first Friday, the girls had figured out their way around.

They arrived in the potions classroom with ample time to find their seats. There weren't many students present yet, but Eloise could already see that the room was split: one side Slytherin, one side Gryffindor. Draco was sat between Crabbe and Goyle near the middle of the room. Pansy Parkinson and Millicent Bulstrode sat toward the back of the classroom with Blaise Zabini. Meanwhile on the other side of the room, Hermione Granger sat in the very front row while her twin had separated and chosen a seat two rows back with Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas.

Corvus Black ushered them toward the front row on the Slytherin side as if he'd been waiting for them all along. "What took you so long, Sal?"

Salacia playfully rolled her eyes before taking a seat beside her brother. "We're still five minutes early. Not all of us strive to be the teacher's pet."

Adoracíon scoffed and her eyes remained trained on the door. "Potter and Weasley once again come running in at the last minute."

Eloise glanced back over her shoulder, watching as Harry quickly took a seat beside Hermione and tried to flatten some of his wild hair that had undoubtedly been stirred as he sprinted down the halls to make it on time to yet another class. A pudgy Gryffindor boy followed in after, just barely making it into his seat before the door magically slammed shut.

"And there's Neville Longbottom," Salacia noted with a hint of pity. "I've heard he's struggled more than most in his classes."

Corvus snickered. "At least he hasn't managed to blow anything up like Finnigan. Gryffindor might've gotten Potter, but they've certainly gained a handful of losers to balance out the chosen one. I see no competition when it comes to Slytherin winning the House cup this year."

Interrupting the chatter of the room, the door slammed open and Professor Snape came striding through. The room immediately grew silent as the potions professor stopped in the center of the room and faced the class. He looked thoroughly unimpressed by the lot he'd be teaching.

"There will be no foolish wand-waving or silly incantations in this class. As such, I don't expect many of you to appreciate the subtle science and exact art that is potion-making. However, for those select few," Snape glanced in the direction of the Slytherin half of the room, his eyes pausing briefly on the Malfoy cousins longer than the others, "who possess the predisposition, I can teach you how to bewitch the mind and ensnare the senses. I can tell you how to bottle fame, brew glory and even put a stopper in death."

Eloise risked a look over her shoulder and noticed that the grin on her cousin's face had flickered as his eyebrows raised. Draco noticed that she'd turned around and his confidence immediately returned as if issuing a silent challenge. Although Eloise rolled her eyes, she couldn't help but smile and quietly snicker under her breath.

"Then again, maybe some of you have come to Hogwarts in possession of abilities so formidable that you feel confident enough, to not pay attention," Snape's voice accrued a terse edge of annoyance. Eloise quickly whipped back around, believing that she'd been caught and called out; however, it was Harry who the professor had locked eyes on. The boy was scrambling to write down every word the professor said on his parchment, yet Snape had misinterpreted the action as inattentiveness. "Mr. Potter. Our new celebrity. Tell me, what would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Hermione's hand shot up into the air as Harry shrugged. Snape ignored her. "You don't know? Well, let's try again. Where, Mr. Potter, would you look if I asked you to find me a bezoar?"

Hermione's hand rose again while Harry sheepishly shrugged. "I don't know, sir."

"Clearly, fame isn't everything," Snape retorted. Draco and several of the other Slytherins toward the back of the room snickered and smirked.

Corvus scoffed under his breath, leaning closer to Eloise with a wry grin, "You'd think he'd never opened a book before."

Eloise hardly looked amused. Her lips twitched downward for a brief second and she returned his comment with a whisper of her own. "He was raised by muggles and learned of magic only a couple of months ago. If the answer is so simple why don't you raise your hand... or are you scared to be outdone by a mudblood."

Corvus glanced over at Hermione and his grin faltered. He'd been caught off-guard by Eloise's bluntness. He adjusted his robes while leaning back to regain his composure. "I didn't realize you had a soft spot for Potter."

Eloise blinked, fervently shook her head, and crossed her arms. "I don't... I just think it's a waste of time to ask questions to someone who clearly doesn't know the answer."

"And what is the difference between monkshood and wolfbane?" Snape asked yet another question as if to prove his point.

Maintaining eye contact with Eloise, Corvus lazily raised his hand into the air. At this, Hermione stood up, her hand stretching toward the dungeon ceiling. The coy smirk on his face immediately dropped as his attention turned toward the muggle-born girl. Refusing to be outshone, Corvus too stood and lifted his hand higher in the air. He and Hermione made eye contact, glaring at one another as if initiating a silent challenge that neither was willing to lose.

"I don't know," said Harry quietly. "I think Hermione does,
though, why don't you try her?"

A few people laughed—mostly the Gryffindor's toward the back of the room; however, Snape was not pleased.

"Sit down," he snapped at Hermione. Although he didn't necessarily call Corvus out, a single glare in the boy's direction was enough to motivate him to return to his seat as well. "For your information, Potter, asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of Living Death. A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat and it will save you from most poisons. As for monkshood and wolfsbane, they are the same plant, which also goes by the name of aconite. Well? Why aren't you all copying that down?"

There was a sudden rummaging for quills and parchment. Over the noise, Snape said, "And a point will be taken from Gryffindor House for your cheek, Potter."

The lesson quickly began afterward and the students were split up into pairs to brew a simple potion to cure boils. Eloise had half expected the pairings to be whoever she was sat beside at the time; however, Snape sent her back several rows to work alongside her cousin. The rest of the pairings looked something like this: Salacia and Adoracíon, Pansy and Millicent, Crabbe and Goyle, Blaise and Theodore, Lavender and Parvati, Seamus and Neville, Dean and Nicodemus, Harry and Ron, which left Hermione and Corvus as the only pair that didn't share the same house. Neither seemed pleased, and Eloise swore she saw a glimmer of smug satisfaction flicker across the potions professor's face.

The moment didn't last long as Snape swept around in his long black cloak, watching them weigh dried nettles and crush snake fangs, criticizing almost everyone—with the exception of the Malfoy cauldron. Perhaps they had an unfair advantage as the potions professor had maintained a close friendship with her Aunt Narcissa over the years. Not the same kind of friendship that Ms. Lavinia Gaunt seemed to possess, but enough so that favoritism was clearly shown to the Malfoy cauldron.

He was in the midst of telling the class to look at the perfect way Eloise has stewed her horned slugs when clouds of acid green smoke and a loud hissing filled the dungeon. Neville had somehow managed to melt Seamus's cauldron into a twisted blob, and their potion was seeping across the stone floor, burning holes in people's shoes. Within seconds, the whole class was standing on their stools while Neville, who had been drenched in the potion when the cauldron collapsed, moaned in pain as angry red boils sprang up all over his arms and legs.

"Idiot boy!" snarled Snape, clearing the spilled potion away with one wave of his wand. "I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire?"

Neville whimpered as boils started to pop up all over his nose.

"Take him up to the hospital wing," Snape spat at Seamus. Then he rounded on Harry and Ron, who had been working next to Neville. "You — Potter — why didn't you tell him not to add the quills? Thought he'd make you look good if he got it wrong, did you? That's another point you've lost for Gryffindor."

Harry opened his mouth as if he planned to argue; however, a grimace of pain flashed across his face and he glared at Ron as if the other boy had kicked him. Although there were several more comments made about the poor brewing quality of the class, Snape did not deduct any more points from Gryffindor. However, he did award Slytherin five points for the nearly perfect cure that Eloise and Draco produced.

"It's so unfair," Corvus griped as they climbed the steps out of the dungeon an hour later. "I bet you a galleon that my cure would have been perfect had I not been paired up with the mudblood."

"Why do you keep calling her a mudblood?" Adoracíon questioned, her brow lifting ever so slightly.

"I forget that you're from abroad," Corvus said, tilting his head amused. "Mudblood refers to the blood status of witches and wizards who come from non-magical families. They're not of the same pedigree and there's some debate as to whether or not they can truly reach the same level of magic as a pure-blood wizard."

Salacia rolled her eyes. "It's rubbish really."

"Is not," Corvus contradicted, but quickly switched the topic of conversation back to Adoracíon. "Do you not have a name for Muggle-borns in America?"

"No-Maj is our term for Muggles," Adoracíon replied, "So I suppose they'd be called No-Maj-borns."

"Well isn't that a mouthful," Corvus snickered. "How'd you end up at Hogwarts anyway? Ilvermorny not good enough for you?"

"My mother transferred to Hogwarts in her second year," Adoracíon explained with a shrug. "Never told me why. We lived in the States so she could get some help from her side of the family when it came to raising me. But I suppose the plan was always for me to attend the same school that she did, so we moved to London last year."

"Was it difficult to move so far from home?" Salacia asked, her brow furrowing with sympathy. "So far from friends and family?"

Adoracíon shrugged. She did a decent job hiding whatever amount of pain the question had wrought, yet Eloise still caught the glimpse of it in her eyes. "Mamá and her family drifted apart sometime before I turned five. I don't remember most of them. As for friends... hard to miss them if you have any."

Salacia looked as if she wanted to hug the girl, but refrained knowing how she felt about physical touch. Adoracíon had made it very apparent during their first night that she was not an overly emotional person—a strong contrast to Salacia who was practically a walking entity of sympathy.

Eloise broke the silence by hooking her arm around Adoracíon's—one of the few things she allowed, "I suppose it's a good thing you have us now then. Isn't that right, Adora?"

Surprise softened Adoracíon's features. She was quiet for a moment and Eloise almost feared that the girl would pull away and reject her. Slowly, the corners of her lips turned upward into a smile—or what she considered a smile, albeit a tad eerie on the usually monotone girl's face.

"Yes," Adoracíon agreed, nodding her head while offering Salacia her other arm. The girl quickly joined their chain with a giddy smile on her face—one that was much more natural than Adoracíon's. "A very good thing indeed."

"Now don't forget about me," Corvus defensively insisted, hooking his arm through Eloise's free arm rather than his cousin's, who he'd previously stood beside.

Salacia snickered. "Unfortunately, I doubt we ever could."

The four proceeded down the corridor toward the great hall as if they were more than just a quartet of first years. For just a few brief seconds, Eloise could see the future her cousin had described. And while she certainly didn't believe she'd be running the school, with these three at her side she doubted there was anything that they couldn't accomplish when relying on their coordinated strengths.

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𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 | And look at that another chapter after an unannounced, extended period of time away. Just a bit of a glimpse into the pure-blood mindset, but character development is on the way. Here's to hoping that it doesn't take me nearly as long to upload the next chapter. Thanks for reading!