Regulus of Hogwarts: Lord of the Stars

The last day of September. Dinner had just ended when the seventh-year Prefects — Lucretius Borgin and Narcissa Black — stood at the far end of the Slytherin table and tapped silver spoons against goblets.

"All Slytherin students, please return directly to the common room after dinner." Narcissa rose gracefully. "First-years — your attendance is mandatory."

The moment her words fell, the mood at the Slytherin table shifted.

Upperclassmen exchanged knowing looks. A handful of fifth-year boys were already smirking in anticipation.

Pure-blood students — especially the core heirs of the ancient houses — wore expressions that said "at last."

Avery Cuthbert set down his knife and fork at once, dabbed his mouth with a napkin, a spark of excitement in his eyes.

Hermes Mulciber slowly raised his head. His dark gaze swept across the Prefects, then settled on Regulus beside him.

Only Alex Rosier — the boy from the mild pure-blood branch — blinked blankly and whispered: "What's happening? Why do we have to go back?"

Avery snorted, his tone dripping with superiority and a touch of pity. "Your family didn't tell you, Rosier? Right — your family... hmph.