The torches in the lower corridors burned low by the time Alden reached the Slytherin entrance. The stone arch whispered open at his approach, parting with the soft sound of shifting scales.
The common room glowed faintly with lake-light that muted the green shimmer that made even gold look cold. Reflections from the water danced lazily across the ceiling. A low fire burned in the hearth, its embers pulsing like veins beneath ash.
A handful of students were still awake, parchment spread across tables, quiet laughter in the corners. Conversation slowed as Alden entered. It wasn't fear that silenced them; it was gravity. The kind that walked in with him.
Draco looked up first from the sofa nearest the fire, a half-played game of wizard's chess forgotten beside him. Theo sat across, knees drawn up, quill tapping absently against his book. Crabbe and Goyle dozed at the edge of the rug, snoring softly like a pair of trolls.
"Well, well," Draco said, leaning forward. "The dead walk among us."
Alden didn't rise to the bait. He set his bag down, untied his robes, and took the seat beside Theo. The light hit his face at an angle, the faint silver in his hair catching like a knife edge.
"You disappeared," Theo said quietly. "After class. No one saw you for hours."
"The infirmary," Alden replied, voice even. "Pomfrey patched what Moody didn't."
Draco frowned. "He did curse you, then. I told you he was insane."
Alden's tone didn't shift.
"He was… instructive."
"He's unhinged," Draco snapped. "Snape said he."
"Snape already spoke to him," Alden cut in. Calm, final. "It's done."
The fire cracked, sending a line of sparks up the chimney. The sound filled the silence that followed.
Theo set his quill down, studying Alden's hand.
"You're still bleeding," he said softly.
Alden turned his palm slightly, and a faint red halo had seeped through the bandage, no more than a fingerprint's width.
"It'll stop," he said. "Everything does."
Draco slumped back in his chair, muttering under his breath.
"Still say you should've hexed him. Imagine the look on Moody's face if you'd"
"No," Alden said, not sharply but with that cool edge that made Draco stop mid-word. "He wanted a reaction. I prefer to disappoint."
Theo's lips quirked faintly. "You always do."
That earned the smallest flicker of amusement, hardly a shadow at the corner of Alden's mouth.
Draco, never comfortable with quiet for long, shifted in his seat.
"Everyone's talking, you know. About what happened."
"They always talk," Alden murmured, reaching for a quill from the table. "They just change the subject each year."
"They're saying you."
Theo shot Draco a look, but the blond pressed on anyway.
"They're saying you blocked an Auror's curse. That you called him a coward."
Alden didn't look up. The quill scratched once across parchment, deliberate, neat, measured.
"Half right."
Theo raised an eyebrow. "Which half?"
Alden looked toward the fire, the lake-light flickering across his eyes like reflected glass.
"The part that matters."
For a moment, no one spoke.Then Draco snorted, tossing a chess piece into the air and catching it.
"You know, one of these days, that attitude's going to get you expelled."
"Possibly," Alden said, closing his book. "But not today."
Theo leaned back, smiling slightly.
"That's comforting."
"It's practical," Alden corrected.
The common room had grown quieter still. From outside the windows, a school of fish glided past, scales glittering faintly in the dim light ike drifting sparks.
Draco yawned, stretching. "I still say Moody should be sacked. Anyone who attacks a student."
"wasn't attacking," Alden interrupted again, more softly this time. "He was testing."
Theo frowned. "Testing what?"
"Limits," Alden said simply. "His. Mine. Everyone's."
He stood then, gathering his books. The green light haloed him faintly, making the band of silver in his hair glint like drawn metal.
"Don't worry," he added, almost absently as he passed the hearth. "I've already found where mine are."
Draco looked after him, uneasy but curious. Theo watched longer, thoughtful.The fire hissed, and for a second the sound almost masked the whispering that resumed when Alden disappeared into the dormitory corridor.
Theo turns to Draco quietly, after Alden's gone.
"He says that like it's a good thing."
Draco leans back, the flickering light casting sharp lines across his face.
"It's not," he says after a moment. "It's terrifying."
The lake outside presses dark against the glass, ripples moving like veins under skin.
The next morning broke clear and cold, the kind of light that sharpened everything it touched. Frost clung to the windows of the Great Hall; the enchanted ceiling mirrored a pale October sky streaked with thin clouds. Owls swooped low between banners, dropping letters, parcels, and the occasional protest from an overburdened barn owl.
At the Slytherin table, order reigned where chaos ruled elsewhere. The silverware gleamed. The conversation, when it existed, was deliberate, the sort that could cut if you weren't careful.
Alden sat halfway down the table, a copy of Advanced Potion Theory open beside his plate. His breakfast was untouched save for tea, steaming faintly in the chill. The cut on his palm had healed to a thin silver line, his quill hand moving steadily across parchment as though nothing in the last week had happened.
Theo sat opposite him, smirking faintly as he buttered toast.
"You realize," he said, "you've reached legend status again."
Alden didn't look up. "How quickly this time?"
"Three days," Theo said. "Record-breaking."
Alden hummed in mild acknowledgment, turning a page.
"They're saying," Theo continued, lowering his voice as though reciting scripture, "that you hexed Moody first before he even drew his wand. Another version says you caught his curse barehanded and smiled."
Alden's pen didn't pause. "Creative."
"Oh, it gets better," Theo said, grinning. "Someone swore they saw you vanish into thin air afterward. Reappeared in the Astronomy Tower, bleeding onto the stars."
Alden sipped his tea. "Tragic, but poetic."
Draco dropped into the seat beside him then, his arrival a small gust of cologne and self-importance. Crabbe and Goyle trailed behind, snickering about something they likely didn't understand.
"You lot look far too serious for breakfast," Draco said, helping himself to pumpkin juice. "Did you hear the newest one?"
Theo groaned. "Please, enlighten us."
"Apparently," Draco said with relish, "Dreyse isn't even human. Half-specter, half… something. That's why he never flinches."
Alden finally looked up, one pale brow arching.
"And you're the source of this one, I take it?"
Draco grinned that bright, insufferably proud grin he wore like a badge.
"Maybe. Maybe not. But if I were, I'd say it's improving your reputation."
"With whom?" Alden asked mildly.
"Everyone," Draco said, slicing an apple. "You terrify them now, and they still line up to watch. Fame, Dreyse. It's all about presentation."
Theo muttered, "You mean lying with confidence."
"Exactly," Draco said without irony.
Alden shook his head once, almost imperceptibly. "The difference between infamy and myth, Draco, is that one burns shorter."
"Then at least it burns bright," Draco shot back, mouth curving into that trademark Malfoy smirk. "I'd rather be talked about than forgotten."
"You mistake noise for substance," Alden said, returning his gaze to the page.
Theo nearly choked on his toast. "He's not wrong."
Draco rolled his eyes. "You two are unbearable. Can't a man enjoy his own legend?"
"If you must," Alden said. "Just leave me out of it."
"Too late," Draco said, biting into the apple. "You're half the story now."
And indeed, across the Hall, eyes kept flicking toward them, rious, wary, enchanted. Gryffindor whispers spread like wildfire. Harry, Ron, and Hermione sat two tables away; Ron gesturing animatedly with a roll, Harry quiet but watchful. Hermione, for her part, looked equal parts skeptical and intrigued.
Theo noticed. "The Golden Trio's still staring," he murmured. "Think they're waiting for you to sprout fangs."
"Let them," Alden said without glancing up. "It saves me the trouble of explaining."
Draco chuckled. "Honestly, you should enjoy this more. Half the castle's convinced you're a walking curse."
"And the other half?"
"Wants to find out if it's contagious," Theo said dryly.
Alden allowed a small, rare laugh, ow, almost soundless. It was enough to make Draco blink.
"What?" Alden asked, eyes still on the page.
"You laughed," Draco said, sounding genuinely thrown. "First time since… Merlin, I can't remember."
"Don't get used to it," Alden said, closing the book. "It's inefficient."
Theo grinned. "He's teasing you, Draco. I think."
But Draco's grin returned easily, arrogance settling back into comfort. "Well, laugh or not, I like this version of you. The calm, mysterious prodigy, terrifying but polite. It's good for the Slytherin image."
"I wasn't aware it needed improving," Alden said.
"Of course it does. We've got Potter hogging headlines, and Longbottom tripping through Herbology fame. Someone's got to represent the real power here." Draco leaned closer, voice dropping. "Besides, your little stunt gave Moody a fit. Father said even the Ministry's buzzing."
Alden finally met his eyes. Calm. Even.
"Tell your father not to mistake restraint for weakness."
Draco blinked. "Wasn't planning to."
"Good," Alden said simply, and poured himself another cup of tea.
The conversation drifted then to Quidditch, to the chill of the coming weeks, to idle speculation about what the notice boards might bring.
But the unspoken balance had returned: Draco loud, Theo amused, Alden silent and sharp as ever.
Across the hall, the whispers continued.
And at the center of it all, Alden Dreyse sat like the eye of a storm, quiet, steady, and wholly unmoved.
As they stood to leave for Charms, Theo muttered,
"You know, for someone who hates attention, you collect it like coin."
Alden's answer was simple, quiet, deliberate:
"Coin spends. Reputation lasts."
Draco grinned as they left the hall.
"See? That's exactly what I mean, terrifying, but polite."
The laughter echoed off the marble, chased by the fluttering wings of owls overhead.
By the time breakfast ended, the Great Hall was a storm of rumor and sugar. Students poured out in chattering waves, footsteps echoing across marble. Outside, the early October light bled pale gold through the castle's high windows, pooling in cold patterns on the stone.
Alden, Theo, and Draco moved with the crowd, their robes trailing faintly behind them. A group of Hufflepuffs clustered ahead, blocking the corridor, their voices shrill with excitement.
"It's posted alreadyright outside the Great Hall!"
"Beauxbatons and Durmstrang're really coming!"
"Krum's supposed to be in ithe's actually competing!"
The words tangled into a rush of awe and disbelief.
Theo frowned. "Posted what?"
Draco craned his neck. "Move, mudbrains," he muttered under his breath, elbowing through until the three of them reached the board.
The parchment stood centered beneath the crest of Hogwarts, sealed in blue wax still glistening faintly with magic. A cluster of first-years were reading aloud, eyes wide.
OFFICIAL NOTICE OCTOBER 30th Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry will host delegations from Beauxbatons Academy and the Durmstrang Institute for the Triwizard Tournament. A welcoming ceremony will take place in the Great Hall at dusk.All students are expected to attend, in full uniform.
Draco's lips parted in a grin. "Finally. Something worth our time."
Theo leaned in to read more closely. "You do realize the last time they held this tournament people died, right?"
"Details," Draco said, waving him off. "It's tradition. Glorious, dangerous tradition."
Around them, voices rose as students from every House pressed close, speculating, gossiping, spinning wild hopes.
"I heard you get gold if you win. "No one under seventeen is allowed to enter. "They're bringing dragons, probably real ones this time."
Draco's grin only widened. He stepped back from the parchment, turning toward Alden. For a heartbeat, the light from the window caught the fine white in Alden's hair, made it gleam like frost.
Draco's eyes narrowed slightly, not in malice, but calculation.Something sharp, electric, seemed to flicker behind his expression.
Theo noticed it first. "Don't," he warned, voice low.
"Don't what?" Draco said innocently, though the smirk was already forming.
Theo sighed. "You're thinking something stupid."
"No," Draco murmured, gaze still fixed on Alden. "Something brilliant."
Alden hadn't spoken; he was reading the parchment in silence, one hand tucked behind his back, the other resting loosely on the strap of his satchel.
Draco stepped closer, lowering his voice so only the two of them could hear.
"You should enter."
Theo blinked. "What?"
"The tournament," Draco said, eyes bright with excitement. "You should be the Hogwarts champion."
Alden turned his head slightly, but said nothing. Draco took that as permission to continue.
The corridor outside the Great Hall pulsed with noise.Students crowded the noticeboard, robes brushing, voices rising, a current of speculation and awe that rippled through the stone like heat.
Alden stood just outside the throng, reading the posted parchment. His reflection shimmered faintly in the glass frame, silver hair catching stray light from a torch. Draco was still grinning beside him, Theo standing off to the side with that measured expression that said he was already tired of the entire spectacle. Crabbe and Goyle loomed behind, content to let Draco's excitement fill the air.
But it wasn't just Draco's voice that filled the corridor. It was the whispers.
"He'll enter, you'll see Dreyse, the Slytherin one."He's mad enough to win it.""They'll call it dark magic if he does.""Bet the Goblet'll burn black when his name goes in."
Alden's eyes flicked toward them just long enough to see heads turn away, smiles vanish behind palms.He exhaled softly.
"Let's walk," he said.
Draco hesitated only a second before following, still talking, still riding the high of attention.Theo sighed, muttering something about "feeding the wrong beast," and trailed after them. Crabbe and Goyle followed like shadows, their heavy steps echoing faintly through the corridor.
They stopped near one of the side archways where the lake's light shimmered through greenish glass, casting moving ripples across the flagstones. It was quieter here, the crowd's noise dulled to a distant murmur.
Draco started immediately.
"It's perfect, Dreyse. You heard them, hey're already expecting it. You walk into that hall, the Goblet flares, and that's it. Hogwarts' champion, our champion."
Alden looked at him, unbothered. "For what purpose?"
"Purpose?" Draco blinked, thrown by the question. "Glory, obviously. Recognition. A chance to"
Alden cut in, voice quiet.
"I already have recognition. And glory's for people still trying to convince themselves they deserve it."
Theo chuckled under his breath. "He has a point."
Draco shot him a look, then turned back to Alden, frowning.
"Fine, then. What about proving yourself? Showing the world what you can do?"
"The world already whispers what it can't understand," Alden said. "Winning a game won't change that."
There was a pause, he kind that stretched.Theo crossed his arms, half-smiling. "He's not wrong again."
Draco scowled. "Do you ever stop agreeing with him?"
"No," Theo said. "He's usually right."
Draco groaned, exasperated. "You're impossible, both of you."
Alden tilted his head slightly. "You still haven't answered my question. What could I possibly gain?"
He said it evenly, not arrogant, just genuinely curious.Draco opened his mouth, but the answer came from behind him.
Crabbe's low voice broke through the air.
"A way to prove everyone wrong."
The corridor went still. Even Draco blinked, thrown off rhythm.
Alden turned, studying Crabbe. "Explain."
Crabbe shifted uncomfortably but kept going. His tone was clumsy but sincere; he was kind that carrying more truth than he probably intended.
"People talk, siruh, Alden. They always do. They say things about you. That you're dangerous, or dark, or… not like the rest of us. But they don't know you. They just" he hesitated, searching for words. "They just guess. The tournament you enter would show them. You'd prove that you can win without any of the things they say about you."
Goyle nodded mutely beside him, eyes downcast.
"Yeah. You'd make them shut up."
Theo looked between them, mild surprise flickering across his features. Draco frowned, partly annoyed that Crabbe had spoken without permission, partly intrigued that Alden hadn't dismissed him.
Alden's expression didn't shift much. He considered the words the way one might consider an unfamiliar spell, weighing it quietly, feeling for its structure.
"You think that's what I want?" he asked finally.
Crabbe shrugged. "Don't know what you want. But maybe it's not about wanting. Maybe it's about making the rest see what you see."
Theo murmured, "That's oddly profound for a Thursday morning."
Draco rolled his eyes, but there was no bite in it. He watched Alden not for the faint change in posture, the way his eyes had gone distant. Calculating.
"See?" Draco said, sensing the opening. "Even Crabbe gets it. You don't need gold or fame, just the chance to show them they're wrong. That your way works. That power doesn't have to look like theirs."
He stepped closer, voice low, persuasive.
"You keep saying the world whispers what it can't understand. So make them understand."
Alden said nothing.The torchlight flickered as the lake's ripples glided shadows across his face.
Draco smiled, sharp and triumphant.
"You'll enter. I can see it already."
The words hung there, sure, inevitable, echoing faintly against the stone.
Alden didn't respond. He didn't need to.
Alden didn't respond. He didn't need to.
A slow grin tugged at the corner of his mouth, ot mocking, not amused, but something far quieter and infinitely more dangerous. It was the kind of smile that made the air feel thinner, the kind that promised motion long before it began.
Theo saw it first and froze, his usual composure cracking just slightly. Draco's breath caught, half in awe, half in disbelief. Even Crabbe and Goyle shifted, as though they'd woken something they hadn't meant to touch.
For a heartbeat, no one spoke.
The torches flickered, and Alden's grin stayed calm, deliberate, inevitable.
And in that moment, every one of them already knew.
He was going to enter the Triwizard Tournament.