Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
The Salem witches were divided by age. Whilst those twelve and under had remained behind at their own school, girls between thirteen and eighteen had been allocated dormitories across Hogwarts.
The third years, were given dormitories in the teachers corridor as they had a certain knack for creating chaos without expecting consequence. Fourth years had been sent to stay with the Ravenclaws, the latter's curiosity meant no malcontent emotion was held between the children as they all seemed to settle in quite peacefully. A particular fascination surrounded Willow and Theodora Faulkner, as the eerie twins mimicked each other's every move, every word. They moved in synchronisation and their magic sparked at their fingertips. Fifth year girls had been placed in the dungeons along the Slytherins, a decision which left Tom Riddle ridden with rage as the witch he wanted to meet was nowhere to be seen. The sixth and seventh years, who were a rather tight knit little group, had the room of requirement all to theirselves. Their headmistress had argued that the girls were sensible, and both refined and intelligent enough not to ask the room for anything that may jeopardise the safety or allegiance of Hogwarts. Especially with the head girl there.
Selene Tituba. Direct descendent of the first women to be accused of witchcraft during the trials of Salem. Her ancestor had been sold straight out of prison and her many years spent a slave was something Selene took very personally. She was powerful, stronger than every witch she knew, and most certainly more powerful than any man who might try charm or belittle her to believe otherwise, she would, quite frankly, die the most horrific death before she allowed herself to ever feel inferior to anyone.
Walking through the castle halls, Selene could practically taste the anxiety around her. These new students, gifted by Merlin, were terrified of her. Whether it be her unusual clothes, her cruel smile or the way her peers appeared more as a coven than a school she couldn't tell, but the students of Hogwarts were on edge at the sight of her. She couldn't help the smirk that fell upon her lips, they should be afraid of her.
As she walked through the doors of the great hall, her eyes flitted across the many faces at breakfast in an attempt to find her friends. It wasn't until Dorothy waved from the end of the Slytherin table that she found who she was looking for and started to move in that direction.
As she sat among her friends, Tom could feel how powerful she was. Her magic dripped from every inch of her, it was intoxicating. Her movements were calculated as she observed her surroundings and it didn't take long for him to realise she was reading the minds of everyone around her- an impressive feat even he hadn't gotten the hang of just yet. Individual people were easy, but whole crowds was an entirely different level. She barely ate as she stared at the table in disgust, it would appear Hogwarts cuisine was beneath her, to which Tom scoffed, who did she think she was?
They were both the first to rise from the Slytherin table that morning, and their followers watched as the two walked in the same direction despite seemingly ignoring the others presence. Tom Riddle would be damned if he wasn't the first person to arrive at his potions classroom, he had a reputation to uphold thank you very much. The witches from Salem had been allocated several classes with the rest of Hogwarts, subjects such as potions, ancient runes, astronomy and defence against the dark arts were shared between the two schools, making the classrooms more crowded than ever. Whilst transfiguration and charms held no new students, as this time was to be used for practicing their own subjects from home.
