The platform at King's Cross buzzed with the usual post-holiday energy. Witches and wizards bustled about in deep winter robes, trunks rolled over cobblestone, and owls hooted from their cages, their feathers ruffled from the cold. Elias Blackthorn stood beside a marble pillar, his cloak tucked neatly beneath his arms as his house-elf, Pindle, fussed with the last-minute charms on his trunk.
"Master Elias," Pindle squeaked, brushing imaginary dust from the trunk's surface. "Everything is packed, and your wand polish is inside the side pouch."
"Thank you, Pindle. You may go," Elias said, adjusting the silver clasp on his cloak.
The elf gave a bow so low his nose nearly touched the ground before disapparating with a soft pop. Elias gave one last glance around. His parents had been called away on urgent international business—again. He didn't mind. He had grown used to such departures and handled his travels with quiet independence.
The train was already hissing with magical steam as he stepped aboard the scarlet engine. Most compartments were already full—laughter spilling from one, the echo of Exploding Snap cards bursting from another.
After a short walk, he found a quiet, empty compartment near the end of the train. He slid the door shut behind him and placed his trunk carefully on the rack. Settling into his seat by the window, he reached into his cloak and pulled out a neatly folded copy of the Daily Prophet.
As the train jolted forward and began its journey northward, Elias flipped through the familiar parchment. Headlines caught his eye:
"Third Petrification Leaves School on Edge: Ministry Monitors Hogwarts Closely"By Rita Skeeter, Special Correspondent
He skimmed it briefly. Exaggerations. Vague quotes from unnamed Ministry officials. A single sentence mentioning Dumbledore's "continued confidence." Nothing of real substance.
He turned the page just as the compartment door slid open.
"There you are," said Draco's voice, dry with mild annoyance. "I've been looking for you since I boarded."
Elias folded the paper and set it aside with a calm expression. "I figured you'd find me eventually."
Draco stepped in, closing the door behind him, and dropped into the seat across from Elias. "You should've told me you were arriving early. I had to walk through five cars full of Hufflepuffs and second-years."
"Tragic," Elias said flatly, a hint of amusement curling at the edge of his lips.
Draco rolled his eyes. "Anyway. How was your Christmas? Did you end up going anywhere?"
"No," Elias replied, folding his hands on his lap. "Stayed home. Focused on research and training."
"Of course you did," Draco said with a smirk. "I don't think you can relax. Even during Christmas."
Elias simply shrugged.
"I went to visit family in France," Draco continued, stretching his legs. "Mother insisted. Whole place smelled like goat cheese and pine. Not the worst trip, but I'd rather have stayed home. Daphne came by the manor a couple of times—brought gifts. I assume she sent you something too?"
"A notebook," Elias replied. "Useful one."
"She has taste," Draco said with a nod of approval. "Oh, and you missed the ridiculous things Father got me. A self-sharpening dagger and a book on court politics. Subtle, don't you think?"
Elias raised an eyebrow. "Very."
They talked casually as the train sped northward, the windows gradually frosting over. Snow-covered hills and dark forests blurred by, and soon, the enchanted lanterns flickered on inside the carriages, casting a golden hue over the walls.
When the train began to slow near Hogsmeade Station, Elias stood and retrieved his trunk without a word. Draco helped open the door, and the two stepped down onto the snowy platform. A bitter wind swept through the valley, but Elias barely flinched, his cloak warded with a warming charm.
"Daphne's probably already ahead," Draco said as they walked toward the carriages. "She was talking with her sister Astoria the whole time. Didn't even stop by our compartment."
Elias nodded. "She'll join us at the Hall."
They climbed into one of the Thestral-drawn carriages—Elias, as always, seeing the creatures with calm detachment, having accepted long ago that their presence marked a line he had crossed in his past life.
By the time they reached the castle, it was glowing against the snowy sky, windows illuminated with firelight. The Grand Entrance doors swung open with their usual creak, and students poured into the warmth of the castle.
Inside the Great Hall, Elias made his way to the Slytherin table, settling in beside Daphne, who had returned just moments earlier.
"You didn't wait for us," Elias said mildly as he took his seat.
Daphne turned, brushing a lock of pale blond hair behind her ear. "I was held hostage by Astoria. She wouldn't stop asking questions about school, about you two, about everything."
Dinner began soon after, warm and hearty. Platters of roast chicken, shepherd's pie, and treacle tarts appeared across the long green and silver-lined table. The chatter around them slowly shifted back into the rhythm of school life—talk of homework, gossip about the Petrification attacks, and whispers of who might be next.
Snow still lined the edges of the Hogwarts grounds, the icy touch of winter not yet ready to loosen its hold. Inside the castle, however, the corridors were warmed by torches and enchanted braziers, their soft golden glow giving life to stone walls and timeworn portraits. The atmosphere had returned to normal—or at least, what passed for normal in a school where whispers of attacks and a mythical Chamber still lingered in the air like mist.
Elias Blackthorn walked the lower corridors with calm ease, his hands behind his back, as though merely wandering with no purpose. In truth, he had already noticed the way people looked at him from the corner of their eyes. It wasn't unusual, of course. Being a Blackthorn came with a kind of prestige, and not all of it was comfortable. But ever since the rumors began about the Heir of Slytherin, he had caught more than one student whispering his name.
It was absurd, of course. Or rather, it would have been—if Elias wasn't aware that it was precisely his type that got suspected: quiet, powerful, Slytherin, and detached.
He smirked to himself. Let them wonder.
That morning, he had woken up early and spent his time practicing advanced shield spells in the Room of Requirement. Draco and Daphne had come too, though Daphne had left early.
It was around mid-afternoon when Elias returned to the Slytherin common room. The greenish light from the lake filtered through the stained glass, painting the chamber in watery hues. Elias had just taken a seat near the hearth, a heavy book of Arithmantic theory in his hands, when the door to the common room swung open.
In stepped Draco Malfoy, looking… different.
Elias's eyes flicked up for a moment. There was something slightly off—the way Malfoy stood, the way he glanced about nervously, as if unfamiliar with the room. Behind him trailed Crabbe and Goyle—was missing , students disguised as them. Elias's senses sharpened. His fingers stayed loosely curled over the pages, but his mind clicked rapidly.
It took only a second more. The way "Malfoy" avoided his gaze, the stiffness in his stride… Polyjuice.
He hid his amusement well.
"Well, well," said the disguised Draco, stepping forward. "Blackthorn. There you are. I've been looking for you."
Elias closed his book and raised a brow, his expression unreadable. "Looking for me? Since when are you that enthusiastic about finding someone, Malfoy?"
There was a brief flicker of panic behind the boy's eyes—very un-Malfoy-like. But he covered it quickly. "Just curious. You know, with all this Chamber of Secrets stuff happening… people are saying things."
"People always say things," Elias replied calmly. "Most of it nonsense. I find it easier to ignore them."
"But…" the faux Malfoy persisted, "you're one of the strongest in our year. And you come from a very old family. Wouldn't be surprised if you knew something… secret."
Elias gave him a long look, then leaned back in his chair slightly, folding his arms. "And what exactly are you asking me, Malfoy? Whether I'm the Heir of Slytherin?"
"Maybe," the boy said, eyes gleaming with interest. "Are you?"
Elias chuckled, low and dry. "No. Though I'm flattered. But if I were, I'd hardly tell anyone, would I?"
He paused, then added, "Besides, the Chamber's been opened before. You should know that. If anyone was paying attention to the school's history, they'd know."
Hermione—still disguised as Daphne, awkward in the Slytherin robes—glanced at Elias sharply. Her voice was off-pitch, barely managing Daphne's tone. "Wait… it was opened before?"
Elias allowed himself a slight smirk. "Fifty years ago. Hagrid was expelled, apparently. Something about a dangerous creature attacking a girl. Myrtle, I think her name was. Moaning Myrtle, the ghost in the girls' bathroom."
Harry and Ron—disguised as draco and Crabbe—exchanged a glance. Ron nearly tripped on the hem of his robe.
Hermione, still playing her part, said, "And you think it's Hagrid again?"
Elias tilted his head. "He's still got a love for dangerous creatures. But no, I don't think it's him. I think the school's just playing old games again. People forget. My family keeps records… and we don't forget."
He watched the trio carefully, noting every little tic, every unnatural hesitation. They weren't fooling him, not for a second.
"But you don't know who it is?" Hermione-as-Daphne asked again.
"No," Elias said firmly, rising from his seat. "And even if I did, I doubt I'd share it in the middle of the common room."
Their eyes widened almost imperceptibly.
"Anyway," Elias added, turning away. "I've got better things to do than chase schoolyard legends. Good day."
He left them standing there, stunned.
As he walked back through the damp dungeon corridor, Elias allowed the mask to slip slightly and smiled. Polyjuice… not bad. But not enough.
He was already thinking of the implications. The trio was clearly looking into the Chamber—deeply enough to break the rules and impersonate people. They wouldn't do that unless they were desperate. Which meant they still didn't know the truth. Good.
He would let them flail in the dark a little longer.
By the time dinner rolled around, Elias was seated between Daphne and Draco again. The hall was buzzing with noise. Daphne leaned over and asked, "You okay? You were gone for a while."
"Just had a strange conversation with someone," Elias said lightly. "Pretending to be someone else."
Daphne blinked. "What does that mean?"
"Nothing," Elias said with a small smile. "Just a bit of fun."