Chapter Text
The first indication that I wasn't a normal child wasn't the letter. It was the pain.
It happened at the end of July, on my eleventh birthday. I woke up in my small room in the west wing of the old Sallow residence with a migraine so terrible it blurred my vision, accompanied by a hissing, electric whisper that seemed to creep through the walls. When I tried to light the oil lamp on my bedside table, the Muggle bulb my father had installed for convenience shattered into a thousand pieces, enveloped in a blaze of dense, dark blue sparks.
Minutes later, a brown owl tapped on my windowpane. It carried a heavy parchment envelope, addressed in emerald-green ink: Miss M. Snejana Sallow. Hogwarts was calling, but the creature that lay dormant in my blood had awakened long before the invitation.
September 1st dawned shrouded in London's classic fog. King's Cross Station was a cacophony of noise: the screech of trains, the bustle of Muggle travelers, and the nervous hooting of birds in their cages. Crossing the barrier between platforms nine and ten felt like plunging into a bucket of ice water, but the real whirlwind awaited me on the other side.
The Hogwarts Express puffed scarlet steam, tinging the air with coal and magic. I left my parents on the platform after a short, cold goodbye; we Sallows weren't given to public displays of affection. I dragged my trunk toward the last carriage, desperately searching for a corner where the subtle hum that still vibrated in my temples would give me some respite.
It was then that I stumbled upon aristocratic pride personified.
I was walking down the train aisle, distracted by a fresh throbbing pain in my forehead, when my trunk bumped into the impeccably polished boot of a boy my age. The boy had platinum-blond hair so pale it looked like fine silver, slicked back with military rigidity, and gray eyes that scanned me from head to toe with an instant mixture of annoyance and superiority.
"Watch where you're going," he hissed, moving his foot with an exaggerated gesture of disgust. "You've gotten my shoes dirty. Don't people like you have eyes?"
"My people has eyes, and also the decency not to stand in the middle of the aisle like a porcelain ornament," I replied, clenching my own. A bluish spark, almost invisible in the aisle light, crackled at the tips of my fingers hidden in my pockets. "Move."
The boy opened his mouth, indignant, his cheeks flushing a light pink. “You don’t know who you’re talking to…”
“And I don’t care,” I interrupted, pushing past him with a firm shove of my shoulder against his.
I heard him protesting behind me, backed up by the low laughter of two burly boys who seemed to be his bodyguards, but I didn’t look back. Our relationship had gotten off to a bad start, and I’d already decided that this insufferable blond guy would be my first enemy at school.
Exhausted, I opened the door to the first free compartment I found and slipped inside, slamming it shut.
“Quite the entrance,” said a soft, sing-song voice from the corner of the window.
I turned around, defensively. Sitting there was a girl with sweet features, light brown hair tied in a loose braid, and brown eyes so clear and bright they seemed to instantly dispel the migraine that was tormenting me. She was wearing a top-of-the-line gown, but her posture was relaxed, completely oblivious to the tension in the hallway.
"I'm Katerina," she introduced herself, extending a hand with a smile that felt like the warmest refuge in the world. "Katerina Narrow."
"Morgana Sallow," I replied, hesitating for a second before shaking her hand.
We both remained silent, but it was in that kind of silence that one notices a silly joke. We both laughed, and I want to believe it was because of the similarity of our surnames.
Sallow.Narrow.
We spent the hours of the journey talking about everything and nothing. Katerina told me she came from a traditional but quiet magical family, that she loved botany, and that she was terrified of not measuring up in class. For the first time, I put my shadows aside and allowed myself to laugh at her witty remarks. Feeling her friendship was like lighting a fireplace in the dead of winter; Katerina Narrow became, in a matter of miles, my anchor.
Night fell on the Great Hall, a place that defied the laws of physics with its starry ceiling and thousands of floating candles. The first-year students waited in line in front of the stool where the Sorting Hat rested. My gaze drifted to the Slytherin table, where the blond boy from the corridor was already seated, surrounded by applause after having been sorted in less than two seconds. Draco Malfoy, I'd heard them whisper. A weighty surname. A crown of arrogance.
"Narrow, Katerina!" announced Professor McGonagall.
Katerina gave me one last nervous glance, wringing my fingers before moving forward. She sat on the stool, and the Sorting Hat barely touched her chestnut curls before roaring loudly:
"HUFFLEPUFF!"
The badger table erupted in cheers. Katerina smiled, relieved, and walked toward her new home, searching for me from a distance and giving me a thumbs-up. My stomach lurched. She belonged to the light, to loyalty, to calm.
And me?
"Sallow, Morgana!"
The echo of my surname made some of the professors at the head table tense noticeably, especially a man in black robes with straight, dark hair who fixed me with a piercing gaze. Severus Snape.
I walked to the stool with my back straight, feeling the stone of my lineage vibrate beneath my feet. I sat down, and the Hat fell over my eyes, plunging me into darkness.
“Well, well…” whispered an ancient voice in my mind, making me jump. “A Sallow. It’s been a long time since I’ve tasted such a dense mind… so laden with echoes of the past. There’s power here, a very old power that roars to be unleashed, but also a cunning mind, capable of weaving secrets to survive physical pain. You want to protect what’s yours, don’t you? You want control.”
Slytherin, I thought hard, digging my nails into the edge of the stool. Put me in Slytherin.
“Are you sure, child? You could be great anywhere, but… yes, the ambition to contain your storm and the pride of your blood will only find their home in one place.”
The Sorting Hat opened its wide slit and shouted to the entire Great Hall:
“SLYTHERIN!”
The Slytherin table erupted in polite but icy applause. I stood up, tipping my hat with a flourish, and walked to my table. Katerina smiled down at me from the Hufflepuff table, a smile that promised houses wouldn't separate us.
However, as I sat down on the silver and green bench, I met Draco Malfoy's gaze. He sat a few places away, arms crossed, a sneer plastered on his lips.
"Well, the wild one in the corridor turned out to be a snake," he remarked loudly, making sure everyone else could hear. "I suppose we'll have to teach you some respect for rank, Sallow."
I met his gray stare, feeling a chill of Ancient Magic flicker at my temples, ready for the war that had just begun.
"Try it, Malfoy," I hissed in a whisper only he could hear. "Let's see who ends up on their knees first."
Leaving the Great Hall meant plunging deep into the heart of Hogwarts. We followed the Slytherin prefect down a series of spiraling stone stairs, away from the warmth of the torches on the upper floors, until the air became noticeably colder and thicker, heavy with that salty, damp-stone smell that so reminded me of the cellars of my own house.
We stopped in a dead-end dungeon corridor, facing a completely smooth, somber stone wall.
“Listen carefully,” the prefect said, turning to the group of first-years with a smug smile. “Our common room is hidden from the rest of the school. We change the password every two weeks. The current one is: Pure-Blood.”
As he spoke the words, the outline of a hidden stone door began to appear in the wall. The stone slid back with a dull creak, opening to let us through.
The Slytherin common room was a high-ceilinged space, illuminated by crystal chandeliers that cast a ghostly, greenish light. Large, dark leather sofas were arranged in front of carved stone fireplaces where the fire blazed with brilliant green flames, and the windows at the far end looked directly out onto the depths of the Black Lake. Occasionally, the reflection of a water creature skimmed past the glass, casting rippling shadows across the floor.
It was an imposing place, designed to remind its inhabitants that they belonged to the elite, but the stifling atmosphere only brought back the throbbing pain of my migraine. I quickly slipped away from the group, searching for the stairs that led to the girls' dormitories.
Our belongings had already been moved. The first-year dormitory was a circular room with five four-poster beds, covered with green silk bedspreads and heavy silver tapestry curtains that blocked out the light.
When I pushed open the door, two girls were already there, unpacking their trunks. They both stopped in their tracks and looked at me, assessing my robes, my boots, and, above all, my posture.
"Well, the last one to arrive," said the first, a girl with sharp features, perfectly styled dark brown hair in a straight cut, and a chin held high with an arrogance that screamed "pureblood" from miles away. "I'm Pansy Parkinson."
Her voice had the same air of superiority as Draco Malfoy's on the train. She crossed her arms, waiting for my reaction.
"Morgana Sallow," I replied curtly, dragging my trunk toward the only free bunk, the one next to the window overlooking the lake.
At the sound of my surname, the second girl, who had ash-blonde hair pulled back in a high ponytail and clear, expressive eyes, stepped forward with obvious curiosity.
"Sallow?" she asked. "I've heard that surname before at my father's meetings. I'm Daphne Greengrass. My family knows the Sallows of the southern branch, though they said they'd become... reclusive."
"We are," I replied, slamming my trunk open. I didn't have the energy for Slytherin diplomacy when I felt like my head was going to explode. "I prefer peace and quiet."
Pansy let out a nasal laugh, sitting up on her bed. "Well, there won't be much peace and quiet in this room, Sallow. Draco says you caused a scene in the train corridor. You should know the Malfoys don't forget bad manners. If you intend to survive here, you'd better not make any enemies before the first Potions class."
I stopped, one of my spare robes in my hands. I turned slowly to face Pansy, giving her such a cold stare that her smile vanished instantly.
“Malfoy can complain all he wants, Parkinson,” I said, keeping my voice low and measured. “But if he thinks I’m going to bow down to his family name, he’s sorely mistaken. And the same goes for anyone who tries to tell me how to behave in this dormitory.”
Daphne Greengrass raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised by my response, while Pansy turned slightly red with indignation, opening her mouth to retort. Before she could say anything, however, the water from the lake crashed against the windowpane outside, plunging the room into a thick, green shadow that silenced us all.
I finished tidying my things without speaking to them again. I slipped between the cool sheets of my four-poster bed, closing the silver curtains to shut myself off from the world. The hum of my Ancient Magic slowly subsided with the gentle lapping of the lake water.
My first day at Hogwarts was over, and the line between my refuge and my storm was now perfectly drawn.