NOVEL NEXT Chapter 3: Chapter 3: The Return to Hogwarts
A month had passed since Arlen Blackthorn had unlocked the vast power within himself. The magic that surged through his veins felt more natural now, like an extension of his very being. Yet, despite the enormity of what he had discovered, his life had returned to a semblance of normalcy—at least, to those who didn't know the truth.
It was a quiet summer in Diagon Alley, the warm golden light of July stretching across the cobblestone streets. The bustle of the magical community preparing for the coming school year filled the air. Families made last-minute purchases for their children heading to Hogwarts, unaware of the shift in the balance of power in the wizarding world. Arlen, however, was far more focused on his internal transformation than any of the typical back-to-school excitement.
On August 31st, the day before the new school year began, Arlen stood in front of the Blackthorn family manor. His robes were pressed and immaculate, the only sign of rebellion being the subtle gleam of anticipation in his eyes. At fifteen, he was now more powerful than ever before, yet he would still have to return to Hogwarts as just another student, hidden among the throngs of young witches and wizards.
"Tomorrow, everything changes," Arlen whispered to himself, adjusting the black tie of his robes as he stared into the mirror.
He had spent the last month training with Orenthus, refining his connection to the power he had unlocked. The warlock's teachings were as cryptic as they were insightful. But there were still things Arlen didn't fully understand—things that could only be learned by observing the magical world in its most vulnerable state.
As the clock struck midnight, signaling the final day of summer, a sudden surge of magic ripped through the air. Arlen paused, sensing the familiar presence of the warlock in his mind.
"It is time," Orenthus's voice echoed, a steady, calm presence amidst the torrent of magic within him. "Go to Hogwarts. But remember, Master Blackthorn, there is much to observe. And the shadows are always watching."
The warlock's words were a reminder of the world outside—the one where he was still bound by the rules of his family and the magical community. Hogwarts would be a place of learning, but also a place of opportunity. It was here that Arlen would begin to solidify his power, gather allies, and manipulate those who could help him reach his ultimate goal.
The next morning, on the first of September, Arlen boarded the Hogwarts Express in the early hours, his mind buzzing with plans for the coming year. His trunk, packed with textbooks and personal items, was accompanied by a letter from the Ministry, confirming his acceptance into the fifth-year curriculum despite his age.
The train ride was filled with the usual chatter of students excited to return to the magical school, yet Arlen felt apart from it all. His interactions with others had grown distant, even with his closest peers. They had no idea what he had become, or the plans that had already begun to take shape.
As the train approached Hogwarts, the towering silhouette of the castle came into view. It loomed in the distance, dark and foreboding, yet it held a strange allure for Arlen. This was where he would rise to power, using the shadows to his advantage. He would be the master of this world—and every corner of it would eventually bow to the name Blackthorn.
As the students began to disembark from the train, Arlen stood at the door, surveying the crowd. He was still the quiet, unassuming boy from a lesser-known family, but underneath that façade lay something far darker, something far more dangerous.
"Welcome back to Hogwarts, Mr. Blackthorn," a voice called out to him.
Arlen turned to see Professor Snape, his expression as stoic as ever. The Potion Master's gaze lingered on him for a moment, and for the briefest of seconds, Arlen could feel the weight of his scrutiny. Snape, unlike most of the staff, had a sharp intuition—something about Arlen had likely caught his attention.
"Professor," Arlen replied coolly, nodding in acknowledgment. "It's good to be back."
With a small, almost imperceptible nod, Snape turned and led Arlen to the entrance hall, where the other students were waiting. The Great Hall, bathed in the warm glow of hundreds of floating candles, seemed to pulse with magic. The Sorting Hat ceremony was already underway, but Arlen didn't need to worry about his placement. His fate had already been decided the moment he had been born.
Sitting down at the Slytherin table, he cast a glance at the other students. Among them, he spotted a few faces he remembered from his previous years—his fellow Slytherins, the ones who would be more useful to him as his power grew. He had no doubt that his time at Hogwarts would be a chess game, and each piece had its purpose. Some he would move, others he would eliminate.
As the Sorting Ceremony concluded, Arlen's thoughts returned to Orenthus's words. The warlock had told him that this year would be pivotal. It was a year of learning, of testing limits, and of subtle manipulation. No one could know the full extent of his plans—not yet. The time to strike would come, but it would not be rushed.
The first day of classes would begin tomorrow, and Arlen would be ready. The world outside still believed in the structures of power, in the safety of the wizarding community. But Arlen knew better. Power was not given; it was taken. And he would take everything.