The first-years exchanged bewildered glances. They wanted to step forward, but none dared. After all, they were fresh-faced young witches and wizards, barely versed in magic—nothing compared to a proper Expelliarmus.
The nearby prefects watched with mild amusement, unsurprised. They'd all been through it themselves. In truth, the first-year hidden prefect selection was always the tamest. New students knew so few spells that one standout usually emerged unchallenged, claiming the unofficial role. It was Slytherin tradition.
After a couple of minutes with no takers, Cassius announced, "Since no one's challenging, Erwin Cavendish is Slytherin's first-year hidden prefect! Next year, you'll get another shot at it. Succeed, and the title's yours. Now, on to the challenges for the upper years. Does anyone care to test their hidden prefect?"
Erwin stepped back, observing quietly. The older students brought more fire to the fray. A few skirmishes broke out—spells flashing in earnest duels—but the incumbents held their ground without much fanfare.
Erwin found it all rather entertaining. The clash of incantations made for a lively show.
Once the dust settled, Cassius scanned the room. "No more challengers? Right, then. The Hidden Prefect Challenge is over! First-year hidden prefect: Erwin Cavendish. Everyone else, back to your dorms. Erwin, hang back a moment. I'll show you to the prefect's quarters and fill you in."
Erwin nodded as the Slytherins filed out.
"Follow me," Cassius said. "The prefect's dorm is private—one of the perks of the job."
"Thanks," Erwin replied.
Cassius waved it off. "No trouble. I've never seen a first-year like you, not even from the Sacred Twenty-Eight. You've just arrived, and you're already slinging a flawless Expelliarmus—silently, at that, with Aguamenti to boot. Blimey, you had me gobsmacked."
Erwin chuckled. "You're too kind, Cassius. As both hidden prefect and official one for seventh year, you'll have to show me the ropes in Slytherin."
Cassius barked a laugh. "Wrong bloke for that. Sure, I'm a sixth-year hidden prefect and Slytherin's prefect, but I'm just a pseudo-prefect at best."
Erwin frowned. "Pseudo-prefect? What's that mean?"
"Just what it sounds like," Cassius explained. "Slytherin's all about power. Prefects here respect strength above all."
"But aren't you the strongest?" Erwin pressed.
Cassius shrugged. "I'm in my sixth year—age gives me the edge. So even if I'm top dog now, it's not true merit. That's why I'm only a pseudo-prefect."
Erwin knit his brow. "If that's the case, does Slytherin even have real prefects?"
Cassius grinned. "That's the beauty of it. The title's mostly for show. But speaking of which, there's this Slytherin legend you ought to know: the Prefect Challenge. It's the only way to earn genuine respect from every snake in the house."
Erwin leaned in. "Sounds intriguing. How does it work?"
"It's the stuff of whispers," Cassius said. "No one's sure if it's ever been done. Only a first-year hidden prefect can start it. You'd have to take down every hidden prefect, year by year, before moving up to second. Succeed, and you're Slytherin's undisputed Head Prefect—the real deal, acknowledged by all. But good luck; it's near impossible. In practice, it doesn't exist."
Erwin's eyes lit up. "I like the sound of that. Can I kick it off whenever?"
Cassius paused, eyeing him. "You're actually considering it?"
"Why not? It's a first-year exclusive. Might as well have a go."
Cassius clapped him on the shoulder. "Spoken like a true Slytherin, mate. You're the second one's ever tempted fate like this."
"Who was the first?"
Cassius's voice dropped. "He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named."
Erwin knew exactly who. Voldemort. The rumor was he'd hexed his own name to sense anyone saying it—like some dark tracking charm. Erwin dismissed it as nonsense, a myth to spread terror. Voldemort would have no life otherwise.
"Did he pull it off?" Erwin asked.
Cassius shook his head. "Nope."
Erwin smirked. "Then it's my turn to try."
They reached a dormitory door. Cassius pushed it open. "I'll spread the word tomorrow. You've got a full year to challenge the hidden prefects whenever you like. Can't wait to see if you rewrite history. Looking forward to facing you myself."
Erwin nodded. "Won't be long. Night, Cassius."
Cassius studied him for a moment, a flicker of hope in his eyes. For the first time, he sensed a genuine Slytherin prefect might emerge. Then he shook it off—impossible, really. A first-year toppling the upper years? Pure fantasy.
Back in his new quarters, Erwin took stock. Simple setup: a sturdy desk, comfortable bed, plenty of space. Spotless, too. He freshened the linens and settled in.
True Slytherin prefect? The idea intrigued him. His gaze drifted to the house crest on the wall—a sleek silver serpent coiled in elegant loops. In his mind's eye, it shifted, twisting into a blooming lotus.
Erwin smiled. The lotus suited it better. Slytherins, prepare for your real prefect.