Dumbledore turned his head to speak to a teacher with greasy black hair, a hooked nose, and sallow skin.
Moriarty knew that he was Severus Snape. Although he couldn't hear what they were discussing, it likely had something to do with Slytherin House.
As dinner continued, Moriarty observed that Slytherin had grown stronger than ever in recent years, winning the House Cup three years in a row—not just through sheer luck.
There were a few outstanding students like William and Leon, nearly as capable as adult wizards, a rarity in other houses. Only Gryffindor had someone comparable: Bill Weasley.
Additionally, there were students in the third and fourth years who were not to be underestimated. Moriarty glanced at Gemma, who was talking to Lilith, then at Charlie Weasley beside Percy, and finally at Tonks, the Hufflepuff girl who had interrupted Dumbledore's speech earlier.
Moriarty knew that Dumbledore had an Order of the Phoenix, and both Charlie and Tonks would eventually become members after graduation.
So, Moriarty reasoned that if Dumbledore had given Bill a task, he wouldn't assign it to a Slytherin unless Bill had failed or was unable to complete it.
However, it wasn't Leon that caught Moriarty's attention—it was Bill.
He had assumed that Hogwarts in 1988 was relatively peaceful, but now it seemed there were deeper currents beneath the surface.
A plan gradually took shape in his mind. Moriarty maintained a calm demeanor, and as he finished his last bite of pudding, the food on the table vanished.
Dumbledore stood up, made a few announcements, and then led everyone in singing the school song.
As it turned out, not everyone could sing as recklessly as Fred and George Weasley.
Dumbledore's voice was the loudest, but suddenly, another powerful voice joined in. The headmaster turned toward the Slytherin table and found Moriarty singing the school song with an old, stirring melody.
It was an ancient tune that carried a battle-like rhythm, sounding as if it had been forged in the midst of war.
One by one, students started following Moriarty's lead. At first hesitant, they soon became immersed in the rhythm, their voices swelling together in harmony.
The entire Great Hall resonated with their voices, and even some of the teachers seemed surprised. The energy in the room shifted—students weren't just singing, they were embodying the song itself.
Dumbledore's applause lasted longer than usual when they finished.
"Music," he said with a twinkle in his eyes, "is more enchanting than anything we do here." He looked at Moriarty with curiosity. "Mr. Moriarty, what melody were you singing?"
"It's a battle song from the Middle Ages, created by wizards during the Goblin Wars," Moriarty replied calmly. "It doesn't have a name, sir."
Seeing Dumbledore's intrigued expression, Moriarty smiled faintly. "But I can write down the score and send it to you."
"That would be wonderful," Dumbledore said, nodding in approval. Then he clapped his hands. "Now, off to bed, everyone."
The Great Hall erupted in noise as students stood up, following their prefects back to their dormitories.
Gryffindor's first-years were particularly rowdy, while Slytherin's first-years maintained a disciplined silence, following Leon toward their common room.
"Prefect William used to lead us back," Gemma remarked to Moriarty as they walked. "But this year, Leon volunteered. I think he just wants to show off."
"Hmph," Lilith scoffed behind Moriarty. "The Minchum family has been struggling for nearly half a century.
"Harold Minchum, Leon's grandfather, was a tough Minister for Magic. He tried to suppress the Dark Lord's rise but ultimately failed. As a result, the Minchum family suffered severe backlash from Death Eaters."
Lilith's voice carried a sharp edge. "Now, Leon is their only hope. But honestly? I don't think much of him. He only acts tough in front of girls. What's next? Challenging a giant to prove himself?" She sneered.
Hearing about Leon's background, Moriarty felt even more confident in how to handle him.
They continued walking, navigating the ever-shifting staircases. The floating stairs moved beneath their feet, forcing them to step carefully.
"Be mindful of these stairs," Leon advised. "They not only move but also rotate unpredictably. If you don't memorize their patterns, you could end up Merlin-knows-where."
Moriarty tapped the end of his staff against the staircase experimentally.
With a resounding click, all of the floating staircases froze in place.
Jericho, ever the curious one, tested it by jumping onto a step that had previously been moving—only to find it perfectly stable.
"Cool, Mr. Moriarty! How did you do that?" Jericho asked in amazement.
"I believe it has something to do with the staff," Moriarty mused. "It seems that Hogwarts' magic recognizes Slytherin's heir."
The other Slytherins gathered around, eager to get a closer look at the staff.
For centuries, the staircases had shifted and rotated daily—yet Moriarty had just stopped them with a single tap of his staff.
Lilith sighed dramatically. "I should have kept the Sword of Gryffindor. Maybe if I had held onto it longer, I would've unlocked its secrets too."
Leon, feeling sidelined, scowled slightly but quickly masked his irritation. "Impressive, Mr. Moriarty," he said with forced politeness. "If I were a professor, I'd award Slytherin ten points. Now, can we move on?"
The little snakes chuckled at his thinly veiled frustration. Moriarty, unfazed, restored the staircases to their usual motion with another tap of his staff.
Before long, they arrived at the entrance to their common room—a thick stone wall at the end of a basement corridor.
"There's a hidden stone door here," Leon announced. "Behind it lies our common room."
His lips curled into a smirk. "The other houses call them common rooms, but we prefer to call ours the Slytherin Dungeon."
He gestured toward the stone wall. "It's located beneath the Black Lake. If you're lucky, you'll see the Giant Squid or even merpeople through the windows."
Leon turned back to the wall and said, "Glory."
With a heavy click, the stone wall parted, revealing the Slytherin common room.
The interior was breathtaking. Black marble walls, a ceiling that shimmered with green reflections from the lake above, and chandeliers that cast eerie, flickering lights. The floor was covered with a pristine white carpet.
Elegant sofas and armchairs were arranged around a grand fireplace. Exquisite furniture, tapestries, and dark candlesticks completed the room's regal aesthetic.
Leon turned to the first-years, his face suddenly serious.
"Never forget the password. If you do, you'll be locked out," he warned. "No Slytherin would befriend a fool who forgets something so important."
His voice grew sharper. "Excitement is for Gryffindors. Slytherin values composure, ambition, and strategy."
The first-years listened intently, their expressions solemn. Even Lilith remained silent, respecting the traditions of her house.
Leon continued, "People say Slytherins will do anything to achieve their goals. They're right. And there's no shame in that.
"We aren't reckless lions. We are cunning serpents. We strike only when the time is right."
A flicker of satisfaction crossed his face as the first-years absorbed his words.
"But always remember—Slytherin has produced some of the greatest wizards in history. Like Merlin."
Jericho raised a hand. "Prefect Leon, isn't that debatable? Some say Merlin lived before Hogwarts was even founded."
Leon's expression darkened, but before he could answer, Moriarty stepped forward.
He raised his staff, tapping the wall, and dark green letters appeared in ancient script.
"This inscription," Moriarty said smoothly, "is the only surviving record from Salazar Slytherin's personal notes about Merlin."
It read: Time.
The room fell silent as they stared at the glowing letters, the weight of history settling over them.