HP: The Son of Tom

Two weeks had passed since Aurelian first walked through the gates of Hogwarts, and the castle was already beginning to reveal itself to him, like a living creature deciding whom to show its secrets to.

The school routine did not exhaust him; on the contrary, he found it comfortable, almost relaxing. Waking up early, going down for breakfast amid the murmur of students, walking through the stone corridors under the dim light of floating chandeliers—everything had a charming cadence that contrasted with the much more intense days he used to live at Gaunt Manor.

"This is simpler," he thought more than once. "A temporary respite... but a valuable one."

During classes, Aurelian behaved like a diligent and curious student, though without drawing too much attention to himself. He was not the first to raise his hand, nor the last to answer. He made sure to stay within the margins of the remarkable.

Sometimes, however, his answers were so precise, so strangely profound, that the teachers raised an eyebrow or paused before continuing. Minerva McGonagall, in particular, was already watching him with growing interest. Snape, on the other hand, seemed harder to impress... but Aurelian noticed that he never took his eyes off him.

The castle corridors had become his second study. He walked through them with confident steps, memorizing routes, discreetly testing the hidden accesses he found in the library books. Sometimes he stayed awake in the common room long after the others had gone to sleep, reading scrolls, writing notes to himself, mentally rehearsing new magical schemes.

The other students were beginning to form an opinion of him: he was reserved, polite, incredibly intelligent... and difficult to read. Aurelian didn't talk much, but when he did, his words carried weight.

Cedric Diggory had become his closest friend. They would sometimes meet to eat together, study in the library, or simply walk through the gardens when the weather permitted. Cedric was the perfect balance: warm, honest, without the twisted ambition that some Slytherins were beginning to show.

That night, Aurelian stopped in front of one of the fifth-floor windows. The sky was covered with stars, and the black lake reflected the moonlight.

"Two weeks," he murmured softly. "I can already feel how this place is trying to mold me."

But it wouldn't be that easy. Aurelian was already molded. He wasn't a child who had come to learn magic. He was a wizard disguised as a child, waiting for the right moment to awaken his potential.

"Let the world see me as just another one..." he thought as his fingers gently brushed the edge of his wand "...until I decide it's time to show them who I am."

With one last glance at the sky, he turned and disappeared into the shadows of the hallway.

Aurelian had just left the library, where he had been consulting a text on the theoretical foundations of expansion spells. Although the book in question was full of restrictions and warnings regarding its use on minors, he had already made a mental note of the key principles that he would later apply to his own projects.

As he crossed the corridor connecting the library to the main staircase, a strange sound snapped him out of his thoughts: a subtle crackling, followed by an insistent "pssst!"

"Hey, you," whispered a voice from behind a suit of armor. "You look like you don't ask many questions. Want to see something fun?"

Aurelian stopped dead in his tracks. He narrowed his eyes. From behind the armor emerged two identical faces, red-haired, smiling, and mischievous.

"Fred and George Weasley," they introduced themselves in unison, as if it were a single word.

"How do you know I'm someone who doesn't ask many questions?" Aurelian asked with a slight smile, crossing his arms.

"You have a bitter look on your face," said Fred.

"You're one of those people who listen more than they talk," added George.

"We like you. We like people like that," they said at the same time, coming out of hiding completely.

Aurelian looked at them more closely. He had noticed their presence at the welcome banquet, of course, but he hadn't had a chance to interact with them. Now that he had them in front of him, his suspicions were confirmed: they were like two perfectly synchronized bombs waiting to explode. Different from Cedric. More disorderly, but also more authentic.

"And what do you want to show me?" he asked with genuine interest.

"A secret passageway to the kitchen," said Fred enthusiastically.

"We snuck in this morning and got some pumpkin pie. There's more," added George with a knowing smile. "But we're not going for food now, no, no..."

"Now we're going to check if Filch really sleeps during the day," they both concluded, looking at him as if they had offered him a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

Aurelian watched them silently for a few seconds. He could refuse, of course. He had homework, books to read, and a routine he didn't want to break.

But he was also certain that getting to know people like the Weasleys well could be... useful. Besides, a well-planned raid wouldn't hurt him. It was all part of getting to know the terrain.

"All right," he finally said, with a slight smile. "But if we get caught, you guys talk first."

Fred and George looked at each other, laughing as if they already knew that wouldn't happen.

"That's right, my friend," said Fred as they set off. "That's the Gryffindor spirit!"

"Too bad you're in Slytherin," added George. "But hey... the snake may be cunning, but it also knows when to bite."

With one last laugh, they disappeared together around a corner in the hallway, dragging Aurelian with them on their little adventure.

Night had fallen over Hogwarts like a silent blanket. The portraits slumbered in their frames and the chandeliers flickered with a deceptive calm. Aurelian slipped behind the Weasley twins down one of the third-floor corridors, following their footsteps like a silent shadow.

Fred consulted an old parchment that seemed to react with animated spots to every movement.

"Is that a map?" Aurelian asked quietly.

"The best," George whispered. "It's called the Marauder's Map. Don't ask how we got it."

"It was signed by Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs," Fred added with a proud smile. "Pure history."

Aurelian nodded, making a mental note of those names. The map accurately showed the castle's corridors and the location of every person inside it, including the three of them. It also showed that Filch was in the east wing of the castle, muttering to himself as he walked down a corridor with his cat.

"All clear," George murmured. "This way."

He led them to a dusty tapestry that concealed an opening in the wall. Fred knocked three times in a specific pattern, and it slid aside as if the castle were inviting them in. Behind it was a narrow spiral staircase leading down to the lower level.

Aurelian analyzed it instantly: hidden location, restricted access, no detectable magical presence. An excellent entry point.

When they reached the bottom, they walked down a passageway to a door that opened directly onto a corridor adjacent to the kitchens. Fred knocked again with the right pattern, and the three of them entered, coming out just behind a row of shelves filled with ingredients.

The house elves were busy with their nightly cleaning, though one of them looked up when he saw them. Aurelian gave him a steady look, barely a gesture, and the elf blinked... then simply continued working. Not a word.

"You've got something weird in your eyes, you know?" whispered George, peering over a glass of pumpkin juice.

"You say a lot without saying anything," added Fred, intimidating but firm.

They found what they had been promised: pumpkin pies, several chocolate frogs, and even a forgotten jug of butterbeer. They sat on the floor, among barrels and sacks of flour, eating by the dim light of a floating candle.

Aurelian, for his part, remained silent, watching the twins as they joked, laughed, and planned future mischief.

"Were they always like this?" he asked suddenly.

"Like what?" asked Fred, his mouth full.

"Happy. Friendly. As if nothing could crush them."

Both stopped. George was the first to answer, this time without laughter.

"It hasn't all been easy. But if we don't take it with humor, how are we supposed to take it?"

Fred nodded with a half-smile.

"If we're going to make history, we might as well do it laughing, right?"

Aurelian looked down, thoughtful. It was such a different approach from his own... yet he couldn't help but feel respect for them.

"Thanks for bringing me," he said at last.

"You're one of us, even if you don't know it," said George, toasting with a chocolate frog.

"A little darker, maybe," added Fred, "but we like you, snake."

When they returned to their respective common rooms, the castle was already fast asleep. Before closing his eyes that night, Aurelian thought about that secret meal, the laughter, the way Hogwarts had a way of giving him unexpected pieces for his future.

The sky above Hogwarts was covered with soft clouds that filtered the sunlight into silvery tones. A light breeze stirred the water of the Great Lake, stretching like an uneven mirror toward the mountainous horizon. Aurelian was on the shore, his robe loosened, lying on the damp grass. His arms were crossed under his head and his eyes were closed, enjoying the silence.

It was one of those rare moments: no homework, no classes, no questions. Just him, with the whisper of the wind and the calm swaying of the water.

Then he heard footsteps.

He opened one eye just as three first-year Slytherin students approached. He recognized them: first Octavian Muldoon, a tall, thin, pale boy with aristocratic manners and an ever-condescending tone; Thalia Burke, with hair curly as a nest of shadows, a shrewd gaze, and a perpetually critical expression; and Ronan Travers, burly, with the empty smile of someone who only follows the group out of habit.

"Well," said Octavian, raising an eyebrow as if he had just discovered an exotic creature, "the famous Aurelian Gaunt, alone by the lake. How poetic."

Aurelian did not move. He only turned his face slightly to get a better look at them.

"And you are...?"

"Octavian Muldoon. These are Thalia and Ronan. All purebloods. All Slytherins. We thought it would be good to get to know you better, since you clearly stand out."

"Stand out?" Aurelian asked without showing any emotion.

"Professor Sinistra mentioned you in astronomy class," Thalia interjected, crossing her arms. "You said something about star patterns and magical cycles, and she seemed... intrigued. It's not common for someone to say something like that in their first year."

"Besides," Octavian added with a half-smile, "if you really are a Gaunt, there are those who believe you could represent something important. It's not every day that an heir to an almost extinct line appears."

Ronan lagged behind, watching the lake, clearly more interested in the frogs jumping on the rocks than in the conversation.

Aurelian rose slowly, brushing the grass from his shoulder. His face was serene, but his eyes shone with an icy edge.

"And what do they really want?"

"Allies," Octavian replied bluntly. "Hogwarts isn't as innocent as it seems. The first years quickly form groups, and it's better to have friends than enemies."

"We prefer to surround ourselves with people who know how to act intelligently," added Thalia. "And you seem... strategically convenient."

Aurelian watched them for a few seconds. Then he smiled, barely.

"Do you know what the most common mistake of those who think they are strategists is?"

Octavian frowned.

"Believing that others are not."

There was a thick silence.

Finally, Aurelian stood up, with a practiced calm, and said:

"I appreciate the interest. But I don't like imposed alliances or loyalties of convenience. If at some point we prove to be useful to each other, I'll know. For now, I prefer to observe."

Octavian tried to maintain his composure, but Thalia smiled slightly, amused.

"Interesting answer," she said.

Without further ado, the three turned and walked away, their green robes fluttering behind them.

Aurelian, however, looked back at the lake.