In the end, Blaise and Zabini gave in and agreed to go snitch.
It was low-cost, high-return—just mention it to the Head of House and ask him not to tell their families or classmates, and they'd avoid the embarrassment.
The three of them agreed to report it soon.
What they didn't notice was that Daphne, sitting a short distance away, had heard everything. Her delicate face showed a flicker of worry.
…
Close to eight o'clock, Tom woke up fully refreshed. After washing up, he made his way to the Slytherin common room.
The sky had already darkened last night, so he hadn't gotten a proper look at the only real "feature" of the Slytherin dorms—the view into the depths of the Black Lake.
Tom walked up to the floor-to-ceiling glass. The morning light filtered through the dark water, now faint and eerie, but still enough to reveal several fish weaving leisurely among the lakeweed, completely carefree.
Suddenly, a massive shadow passed by. And when it vanished, the fish were gone too.
Tom spotted a few thick tentacles lingering for a second. That shadow… was clearly the legendary Giant Squid.
Well, so much for being carefree. Not a good thing, apparently—those fish didn't even put up a struggle before becoming breakfast.
"Impressive, isn't it?"
Daphne had appeared at Tom's side without him noticing, also looking out the window. "I'd heard about Slytherin's underwater view before, but seeing it for myself—it's far more stunning than any book could describe."
"It's definitely something," Tom nodded. "Feels like living in one of those sea-view hotels."
Though he didn't say the rest aloud: And that's all it has going for it.
The scenery was practically the dorm's only redeeming quality. As for everything else… well, there wasn't much to say besides endless complaints.
Dark, damp, and completely devoid of sunlight.
The green color palette was already eerie during the day; at night, it was downright creepy. Just being here made your mood sour without reason.
Honestly, it was no wonder Slytherin kept turning out Dark wizards. The environment alone could twist anyone's personality. Anyone but him, of course—he was a ray of sunshine.
What bugged Tom the most was the humidity. He woke up feeling like his blanket had gained weight overnight—squeeze it and you'd probably get a puddle.
Bloody hell.
Britain was already damp enough. Scotland, with its highlands and oceanic climate, took it to another level—worse than London.
And the fact that this dorm was located in a dungeon under a lake? Realistically, this place shouldn't even be habitable.
Which, to be fair, it wasn't. Most castles used their dungeons for prisoners. Who knew what Slytherin was thinking when he picked this place for his House dorm—trying to make sure his students went mad?
…
On the way to the Great Hall, Daphne quietly told Tom everything she'd overheard earlier.
Tom didn't seem the least bit worried. He just thanked the little witch for her kind gesture and clearly didn't want to keep discussing it.
"Aren't you the least bit concerned, Tom?"
Daphne shot a glance toward the staff table—Snape had already arrived. She lowered her voice, moving closer. "I heard he's really strict… and you did hit them yesterday…"
"No matter how strict he is, he has to be fair," Tom replied calmly. "Zabini provoked me first. I only hit back in self-defense. If Professor Snape is reasonable, he'll know who deserves punishment."
"Are you sure that's how it happened?"
Daphne still felt like something was off, but couldn't quite put her finger on it.
Seeing Tom so confident, she let go of her worries—for now.
At the long table, in addition to the usual breakfast items, the first-year students also found their class schedules for the term.
After glancing through his, Tom could barely hide his grin.
So light. Ridiculously light. He'd had more classes back in primary school.
First year was all about laying the foundation. There were no electives yet—just a handful of core subjects. Not many at all. And most were short periods rather than double-length lectures.
Today, Slytherin only had two classes: Transfiguration at 9 a.m. with Gryffindor, and Herbology at 1 p.m. with Ravenclaw.
That was it. Just 100 minutes of class, and the rest of the day was free.
The rest of the week was roughly the same—two or three classes a day at most. This life was way too easy.
Plenty of free time to focus on his own interests.
"After we finish eating, let's explore the castle," Tom told Daphne. "I heard the corridors here move around—it's easy to get lost."
The little witch nodded eagerly. The two of them quickly finished breakfast, and just in case they got hungry later, Tom snagged a couple pieces of bread and butter before leaving the table.
At the Gryffindor table, Hermione watched them leave and wanted to follow, but her roommate Lavender Brown kept chatting nonstop. Eventually, Hermione gave up.
Meanwhile, the moment Tom was gone, Zabini and the others exchanged glances and gave a small nod.
A while later, Snape got up from the staff table. The three boys instantly followed, intercepting him just outside the Entrance Hall.
"Rosier, what is it?" Snape frowned. Out of the trio, Rosier was the only name he remembered.
His parents were Death Eaters—colleagues of a sort.
"Professor, you have to stand up for us!"
To Snape's astonishment, Zabini suddenly yanked open his robes and bared his scrawny chest.
"AHHH!"
A witch walking by screamed in horror at the scene.
A teacher and a young boy?
Wait—wasn't this usually something you saw with a priest?
It was peak breakfast hour. Plenty of people were milling around the Entrance Hall. One glance at this bizarre spectacle and everyone immediately perked up.
"Idiot! With me—NOW!"
Snape growled under his breath, storming down to the dungeons like he was escaping. The three boys hurried after him.
If they stayed a moment longer, Merlin knows what kind of rumors would spread across the castle by tomorrow.
This was bloody England, after all.
Only after they reached his office did Snape turn, his eyes colder than ice, staring straight at Zabini.
"If you don't immediately explain what the hell you're trying to pull, I'll put you in detention for a month—even if you are in my House!"
"Professor, look at this mark—it's from Riddle! He hit me!" Zabini pointed to the red welt on his chest, nearly in tears.
Just remembering it made him want to cry. Not even his mother or any of her six ex-husbands had hit him like that!
Nott and Rosier chimed in, talking over each other as they described the scene from last night and this morning. The more Snape listened, the darker his expression grew.
This wasn't just bad behavior.
This was outrageous.