Tuesday.
Early morning.
Vale examined his class schedule as he left the Great Hall having completed his breakfast.
The parchment creased where he'd folded it inside his robe pocket. Tuesday's lineup presented interesting opportunities: Herbology with Hufflepuff in the morning, followed by Potions with just Slytherins in the afternoon, and Flying Lessons with Gryffindor in the evening.
"Herbology first," he muttered to himself. "With Hufflepuff."
The greenhouse air hit him with a wall of humid warmth as Vale entered.
Professor Sprout bustled about, arranging pots of peculiar plants that seemed to sway without any breeze.
Hannah Abbott caught his eye from across the room. She quickly looked away, busying herself with her dragonhide gloves. The memory of her frightened expression during the Sorting Ceremony lingered between them like an invisible wall.
'Haha,' the Obscurial laughed inwardly at this adorable sight.
Vale positioned himself at a workstation near the back. Professor Sprout instructed them to pair up for repotting Bouncing Bulbs. The Hufflepuffs clustered together, leaving Hannah as the odd one out.
"Uh…" She approached his table with visible reluctance. "I suppose we're partners then."
"I suppose we are." Vale's voice remained neutral as he reached for a bulb.
The plant squirmed in his grip, nearly breaking free before Hannah caught it with surprising reflexes.
"You need to hold it firmly at the base." Her voice was professional, detached. "My family grows these."
Vale nodded, adjusting his technique. "Useful skill."
They worked in silence for several minutes, the awkwardness between them thickening with each passing moment. Vale found it increasingly entertaining, yet couldn't let it show.
Hannah's bulb suddenly leaped from her hands, bouncing wildly across the table. It knocked over a jar of fertiliser, spilling caustic powder toward her exposed wrist where her glove had slipped.
Vale's hand shot out, deflecting the powder with a subtle wave that could have been mistaken for simply brushing it away. Only he, and perhaps Sprout, who had glanced his way, knew the whisper of dark, smokey energy he'd used to control the trajectory.
"Thanks," Hannah murmured, surprised. She pulled her glove back into place, studying him with uncertainty. "That stuff burns."
Vale shrugged. "We're lab partners."
As Vale and Hannah continued working, a shadow fell across their workstation. As usual, Malfoy sauntered over, flanked by Crabbe and Goyle.
"Slumming with Hufflepuffs now, Windrow?" Malfoy's voice carried just enough to draw attention without alerting Professor Sprout, who was helping someone with their perpetually troublesome plant.
Vale didn't look up, methodically packing soil around his bulb. "Did you need something, Malfoy?"
"Just wondering if you've forgotten which house you belong to." Malfoy's eyes narrowed at Hannah, who shrank slightly under his gaze.
Vale sensed the shift in Hannah's posture—the slight tensing of her shoulders, the quickened breath.
While keeping his eyes on his work, he slid his hand beneath the table, slipping a folded note into Hannah's palm. The movement was fluid, practiced, as though he'd been passing secret messages his entire life.
In a sense, that was his life before this one.
Hannah's fingers closed around the paper instinctively. Her eyes widened slightly, but she maintained her composure, tucking the note into her sleeve with a subtle movement.
"I know exactly where I belong," Vale replied, finally looking up at Malfoy with a placid expression. "Right now, that's completing this assignment. Do you want to lose points?"
Malfoy scoffed and moved away, but not before shooting a final contemptuous glance at Hannah.
When Professor Sprout called for everyone to clean up, Hannah unfolded the note beneath the table:
They'll try something after class. North corridor. Play along.
Hannah met Vale's eyes briefly, a silent question in her gaze. He gave an almost imperceptible nod and a shrug that seemed to say:
"Slytherin business."
As they filed out of the greenhouse, Vale deliberately lagged behind, and Hannah matched his pace. When they reached the north corridor, Malfoy was waiting with his cronies, wands half-drawn.
"Abbott," Malfoy sneered. "Don't you know Hufflepuffs aren't welcome in this part of the castle?"
Before Hannah could respond, she stumbled forward dramatically, as if pushed from behind. Her armful of books scattered across the floor—directly at Malfoy's feet.
"Oh! I'm so sorry!" she exclaimed, dropping to her knees to gather her things.
Vale watched with calculated interest as Hannah's heaviest book—A Comprehensive Guide to Magical Fertilizers—landed squarely on Malfoy's right foot. The boy's pale face contorted in pain, though he tried to mask it with indignation.
"You clumsy little—" Malfoy began, bending slightly to grab at his injured toes.
That slight bend was all Vale needed. As Crabbe and Goyle moved forward to intimidate Hannah, Vale slipped behind them with practiced ease. In his previous life, he'd learned that violence didn't require magic — just opportunity and precision.
"Heh," A smile was plastered on the Obscurial's face.
It's been a while.
Vale's fist connected with Malfoy's kidney—a quick, sharp jab that looked like he was merely trying to squeeze past in the commotion. The blow was expertly placed where robes would hide any mark, where pain would linger for days.
Malfoy gasped, his body jerking upright.
"Oh, sorry," Vale said, his voice perfectly innocent. "Tight corridor."
Before Malfoy could recover, Vale's elbow found the soft spot beneath his ribs—another move disguised as Vale reaching down to help Hannah with her books. This one was harder, meant to leave a deep bruise that would make sitting in class uncomfortable.
"What are you—" Malfoy wheezed, unable to finish his sentence.
Crabbe turned, confused by Malfoy's distress, giving Vale the chance to deliver a final blow—a seemingly accidental bump that drove his knuckles into Malfoy's lower back, right where the spine was most vulnerable.
"You should watch where you're standing," Vale said calmly, handing Hannah her last book. "People are trying to get through."
Malfoy's face had gone from pale to ashen. He couldn't identify exactly what had happened—only that he was suddenly in considerable pain, with no visible spell or attack to blame it on.
"We'll... continue this another time," Malfoy coughed up, straightening his robes with as much dignity as he could muster.
Vale met Hannah's eyes as they walked away. Her expression showed a mixture of shock and something else—perhaps a newfound respect for the unexpected alliance that had just formed.
"Unfortunately," Vale laughed, "That's all we have time for. See you around, Abbott. Don't be too afraid of me, alright?"
With those parting words, Vale went to his next class.
o=O=o=O=o
Liking the story so far?
Support me on P@treon!
Link: pa treon.com/feralserenity
(No space.)
You can read up to 50 Chapters ahead!
o=O=o=O=o