The Chronicles of Blood and Fire (HP Fanfic)

The first official day of classes at Hogwarts dawned grey and wet, clouds hanging heavy over the castle as if it too shared the anxious energy of new beginnings. Inside the Slytherin common room, back from the breakfast, Caelum sat in silence while Evran Thorne sorted through his book bag, muttering about forgetting his potions notes.

Bastian Flint, already tying his green-and-silver tie, groaned. "First class of the year and it's with Snape. Of course it is."

"He is Head of House," Evran muttered.

"Yeah, but couldn't he pretend to be nice at least once a year? No? Just me?" Bastian grinned, but Caelum only offered a small shrug.

They walked the dim corridors of the dungeons toward the Potions classroom. The chill air still clung to the stone like cobwebs, and flickering torches cast dancing shadows along the way. Before they could turn the final corridor, the group was intercepted in the courtyard by a familiar voice.

"You really think you belong here?"

It was Silas Avery, flanked by two boys who were eager for trouble. Caelum came to a slow stop, his steps measured, unreadable.

"Just because no one says it aloud," Silas sneered, "doesn't mean we don't see you for what you are."

Evran stepped up, but Caelum raised one hand, calm.

Silas continued, "Half-creature. A vampire in our dorms? It's pathetic what standards this school has fallen to."

A soft exhale from Caelum. He turned his eyes directly to Silas. The courtyard stilled—something shifted.

His voice was steady. "If you're worried about safety, Avery, then the logical thing would be to address actual threats, not the ones invented to feel superior. I've been vetted by the Ministry, the Wizengamot, and Professor Snape himself. So if I'm here, perhaps the question is not about me—but about why you feel so threatened."

The words hung in the air, rational and cold.

Silas blinked. His mouth opened, then shut. A pause. Then he muttered something indecipherable and stepped aside, visibly frustrated. His friends looked at him in confusion.

Evran whispered, "What just happened?"

Caelum didn't reply. Bastian raised an eyebrow. "Did he back down? I thought they were going to start swinging."

From the far side of the courtyard, someone was watching. Vesper Blackbourne, quiet and sharp-eyed, narrowed her gaze at Caelum. She saw it—not just the conversation, but the ripple beneath it. The subtle shift in Silas' eyes, the flicker of suggestion where there should've been resistance.

Compulsion, she thought. Not a charm. Something…older. Deeper.

Caelum walked on.

…

The Potions classroom was cool and still, with the scent of pickled ingredients and herbs lingering like a forgotten memory. Professor Snape, as always, glided into the room like a thundercloud.

"There will be no foolish wand-waving or silly incantations in this class," he began, voice low and sharp. "As such, I expect silence, precision, and above all—attention. Those who fail will be removed. Permanently."

The lesson began—an introduction to infusion bases and anti-coagulant agents. Caelum barely had to focus; the subject came easily to him, like most theoreticals did. Ever since he'd come to this world, he had spent most of his time buried in books—first because he had no memories, then because knowledge was the only shield he had.

What distracted him, however, was the lingering weight of the confrontation earlier. It had been too easy. And even though his ability hadn't fully controlled Silas—he'd merely nudged him, coaxed him—he felt the aftertaste of manipulation.

Like bitter ash on the tongue.

Still, sometimes solving a problem with subtlety, like this morning, prevented louder consequences. He'd chosen peace.

The class ended with their cauldrons simmering down. Snape dismissed the others before fixing his black eyes on Caelum.

"Mr. Sanguine. A word."

Caelum stepped forward. Snape's tone dropped a degree.

"You are aware that using magic against another student, no matter how…provoked, is forbidden."

As Snape's dark eyes lingered on him a moment longer, Caelum felt a flicker of unease. He realized then—Snape had seen it. The moment he'd bent Silas Avery's mind, subtle but undeniable.

Caelum said nothing at first, then gave a slight nod. "Yes, sir."

Snape studied him. "You were placed here not only because you are capable, but because you are watched. You would do well to remember that. There are…those who would exploit any misstep you make."

"I understand."

Snape's gaze lingered. There was something unreadable behind those eyes—judgment, perhaps, but also calculation.

"…Very well. Dismissed."

Caelum turned and left, the weight of both silence and secrets following him like a second cloak.