Chapter 17: (17) A Slytherin First-Year Prefect
"Now, those who wish to run for prefect may step forward," Snape said coolly.
As soon as his words fell, several boys eagerly stood up.
Ian glanced at them—familiar faces. Among the boys were Draco Malfoy, Theodore Nott, and Blaise Zabini.
For the girls, Cassandra Vole, Daphne Greengrass, and Pansy Parkinson stepped forward.
Great, all pure-bloods. Not a single half-blood in sight.
"Our Mr. Potter isn't interested in running?" Snape's gaze suddenly landed on Ian, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "I recall you made quite the impression during the Sorting Ceremony."
Ian: "..."
I was just trying to get the Sorting Hat to put me in Gryffindor as quickly as possible. How was I supposed to know it'd make such a scene?!
Taking a deep breath, Ian slowly stood up under the gaze of everyone present. "I'll run, Professor."
Snape caught the 'determination' in Ian's green eyes and let out a soft chuckle. "Very well. All candidates, step into the center."
Lily... this boy looks so much like you.
As Ian moved to the middle of the common room, Snape's thoughts drifted to twenty years ago.
Back then, he and Lily had been friends. They had sat together on the Hogwarts Express, shopped for wands in Diagon Alley, and walked into Hogwarts Castle side by side...
But then, because of that incident, they had grown further and further apart, until they were ultimately separated by death.
"Professor?"
Ian's voice snapped Snape out of his thoughts. He looked up to see Ian watching him with a puzzled expression.
"Can we start?"
Snape stared into those familiar green eyes, identical to the ones that had haunted him for years. A flicker of pain and regret crossed his gaze.
If only he hadn't been so arrogant to her.. if he had confessed instead of calling her a mudbl.. hadn't been so impetuous in his youth, if only he'd been braver, more steadfast...
Would things have turned out differently? Could he have stayed by Lily's side?
Snape lowered his eyes to hide the turmoil within, and when he looked up again, he was once more the cold, unyielding Head of Slytherin.
With a wave of his wand, three circular dueling platforms appeared in the center of the common room, surrounded by transparent magical barriers.
"Begin. Two people per platform. Duel," Snape commanded.
Ian, Draco, Theodore, and Blaise stepped into the dueling rings, each pairing off and locking eyes with their opponent.
"You and me?" Ian quickly chose the most familiar face—Draco—as his opponent.
Draco rolled his eyes. "Potter, I won't go easy on you."
"Let's see if you're still this cocky after I knock you down," Ian said, raising an eyebrow.
The two raised their wands simultaneously.
"Incendio!"
"Protego! Petrificus Totalus!"
Ian deflected Draco's spell and quickly countered with a Petrificus Totalus.
Draco froze in place, stiff as a board, his face filled with disbelief.
Draco: 'I... I lost?'
Ian walked over, giving Draco a pat on the shoulder. "When we get to fifth year and learn Protego, make sure to pay extra attention, Draco."
With that, Ian lifted the body-binding spell on him.
Draco remained standing there, questioning his existence. How had he been taken down so easily in just one move?
Meanwhile, Theodore and Blaise had also finished their duel, with Theodore emerging victorious.
"Now, it's your turn," Snape said, gesturing toward Ian and Theodore.
The two stepped into the dueling ring, nodded respectfully to each other, and raised their wands simultaneously.
"Locomotor Mortis!"
"Expelliarmus!"
Ian dodged Theodore's leg-locker curse and responded with a precise Expelliarmus, sending Theodore's wand flying to the edge of the dueling platform.
Theodore glanced at his wand and let out a wry smile. "I lost."
"Good match," Ian replied as he retrieved the wand and handed it back to Theodore.
With that, the male prefect for the first-year class was decided.
Meanwhile, on the other side, the girls' duels were heating up.
In the end, Cassandra Vole emerged victorious.
"From now on, Ian Potter and Cassandra Vole will serve as the first-year prefects for Slytherin," Snape announced, scanning the students in the common room. "I expect you both to set a good example and lead your peers well."
"Yes, Professor," Ian and Cassandra replied in unison.
Snape nodded in approval before turning and leaving the common room.
As soon as he left, the room erupted into chatter.
Draco, looking a bit awkward, approached Ian. "Potter, I admit you're pretty impressive. You've earned the right to be a friend of a Malfoy."
Draco felt much better after seeing Theodore lose just as quickly. Somehow, the sting of personal failure was easier to bear when others failed too.
"You're not bad yourself, Draco," Ian said cheerfully, patting Draco on the shoulder. "Cheer up, it's not that you're weak—it's just that I'm too strong."
"Who gave you permission to use my first name...," Draco muttered, his voice low. "And I'm not upset!"
Ian shrugged at Draco's sulky demeanor.
Theodore also came over, his eyes alight with admiration. "Prefect!"
"Theodore, just call me Ian," Ian said, taking a step back when he saw the fervor in Theodore's gaze.
What is with that look? Ian thought. This is 90s England—surely he doesn't…
The idea made Ian take another two steps back, just in case.
Seeing Ian's instinctive avoidance, Theodore paused, then realized Ian might have misunderstood.
He quickly explained, "Ian, don't get the wrong idea. I just admire powerful wizards. You managed to cast Expelliarmus right after starting school—do you know that's something we're only supposed to learn in second year?"
Hearing Theodore's clarification, Ian let out a sigh of relief. "Oh, I see. I thought you meant…"
"Thought what?" Theodore asked, confused.
"Nothing, nothing," Ian waved it off, then turned to look elsewhere.
Cassandra was surrounded by a group of girls eagerly asking her about her dueling techniques.
Although she maintained her usual aloof and untouchable demeanor, the pride and satisfaction in her eyes were impossible to hide.
Ian chuckled softly, then turned his gaze toward the flickering flames in the fireplace.
It had been eleven years since he arrived in this world, and now, he'd finally taken his first step.
A Slytherin first-year prefect—it was a great start.
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