I've recently started going through all my old scribbled story ideas and I found this one. It seemed interesting enough and so I decided to continue with it. Although I forget what my original plot was…Oops. It will come back to me soon. For now, I'll just publish what I have and see what kind of response I get.
It's only a matter of time before they bring the maniac himself here, thought Sarah, as she watched a line of death eaters march down the aisles in the severely empty great hall. Voldemort was sure to show up any day now and sit himself upon Dumbledore's chair as if it were a throne, destroying any happy memories a child had of the old headmaster being perched there. Surely he'd take extra care to make sure each and every non-Slytherin student was miserable. And so far, he was doing an excellent job.
Sarah hadn't known that witches and wizards did not have depression potions, or anything to aid someone through dark times. There was no magic cure that could drag someone out of the deep, dark pit that was misery. No charm to suck the gloom out of the world, or replace all despair with hope and joy... But Sarah would love to invent one. It would cure all of the Hufflepuffs, all of the Ravenclaws, and all of the Gryffindors (Though they seemed to be capable of drudging up a bit of optimism anyway), and it would certainly fix her.
It was extremely hard, being the only one in her house that felt the way she did. It was exhausting, keeping a constant pretense of 'venomous snake'. It was not her way. Sarah was different from the catty and vicious female snakes. Different from the snide and hateful males...In her house, she was of a whole different breed. A very rare breed of 'decent snakes'. Yes, Sarah was a Slytherin, but that did not mean she was an automatic servant to the Dark Lord. It shouldn't automatically pin her as a future criminal or as a pureblood supremacist….But it did.
"Hey, Frost!" Sarah looked away from the line of death eaters and turned her attention to Pansy Parkinson, who was currently regarding her with critical eyes from across the table.
"You don't seem too happy about all this." Pansy said, her muddy eyes narrowing. Several other kids looked their way at the prospect of catching a bit of drama.
"I'm not." Sarah replied truthfully, digging into her morning cereal, as she also dug deep inside her to pull out her practiced character. Pansy sat speechless a moment at her admittance, her ugly face stuck in shock mode, until she got a nudge from a girl next to her. She snapped out of it.
"You don't approve of what the Dark Lord is doing?" She asked loudly, bringing the attention of the rest of the table to their conversation.
"I don't approve of his methods." Sarah paused with her spoon halfway to her mouth, preparing to utter her next words. "It should be us up there."
Pansy considered her for a moment before grinning. The rest of the table turned back to their own doings, satisfied now that they had ridden all suspicions of a traitor amongst them.
"Soon." Pansy replied, before turning to her friend to discuss what the future might bring.
Sick, though Sarah, attempting to swallow her cereal. It scratched on the way down, a signal that maybe Sarah shouldn't have said anything at all. But it was too late now. And she supposed it only aided her in the long run by adding to her guise of 'Slytherin through and through'.
If she was going to do anything about the war, it would have to be in secret. She had learned in her very first year that you don't go around asking 'Why can't we just be friends?' and that it was better to keep true intentions on the down-low. And so Sarah had kept quiet all those years, and it had gotten her by.
And if she played it right, it would get her through what was sure to be an interesting year... Dumbledore dead and Harry Potter on the run surely meant big things were about to happen, changes were going to be made. Some already had been. For instance, more than half of the school was absent this year, death eaters roamed the halls, several school subjects had been cancelled or the teachers had been sacked, and there was absolutely no happiness.
Which brought Sarah back to her earlier thoughts. What everyone needed was a miracle cure for melancholy. She would get on that, sooner or later. Most likely sooner, judging from the faces of her piers. The Hufflepuffs were probably the worst, even if there were only a few of them. Most of the muggle-borns had been in that house, and since the new muggle-born ban, the purebloods and half-bloods left behind were severely worried for their friends. Not to mention family. That's what most of the Ravenclaws were: worried about their families. It was clear that the leftover Ravenclaws had thought themselves smart enough to deal with anything thrown their way, except perhaps the death of a family member. And the Gryffindors...Well, they were worried sick and depressed beyond belief...and yet they are able to well up enough courage and bravery (as they are known for) and fight off the darkness as best as they could.
The worst part of it all for Sarah was that she was supposed to be happy about it. As a Slytherin, she should be ecstatic about the Dark Lord's involvement with the school. But really, she was terrified.
It was an anxiety she'd been harboring for years now. What if Voldemort succeeded in taking over everything? She'd be in trouble then...No doubt all the Slytherins would become death eaters. And she'd be expected to join as well, because of the crest on her cloak. Or maybe she'd be set free because of her family name? She wasn't a pureblood, so where did that leave her at the end of it all?
"Listen up everyone!" Came a booming voice from the front of the room, and Sarah was surprised to find that it was female. One of the death eaters, a short plump woman, had made her way to the front of room and was standing in the center of the raised dais usually reserved for the professors.
Nobody dared disobey, and all turned to hear what she had to say at once.
Since the headmaster had been murdered, and the new one could care less, the opening feast hadn't really been...organized or planned, and so as the Hogwarts Express had arrived, they'd been sent off to bed without supper. Which was dissapointing to many, as it was usually a gargantuan feast. Sarah had put off eating sweets on the train to make room for nothing.
"I am Professor Alecto Carrow, your new Muggle Studies teacher." she said, her nose crinkling in disgust at the word 'muggle'. Sarah could already tell that no good would come from this woman.
"It is a mandatory subject, no exceptions, and each and every one of you shall be attending this year." There was a collective groan from most of her Slytherin housemates. Carrow chuckled lowly at them, and crossed her arms behind her back as she began to strut up and down the length of the teachers table.
"My brother, Amycus Carrow, will be teaching you Defence Against the Dark Arts, another mandatory subject." Here she smirked a little, as if she had some little private joke. A man joined her at the front, medium height with a beaver-ish face and beady eyes. Obviously Alecto's sibling, as the resemblance between them was clearly visible.
"We expect the best behavior from all of you, or there'll be consequences!" She said fiercely, her head snapping to the deathly silent Gryffindor table. Sarah didn't put it beyond her to attack one of them out of pure spite. Her suspicions were proved correct a moment later as she took a step down and moved through the aisle between the Hufflepuff and Gryffindor tables.
"And if any of you little lions so much as look at me wrong, a good thrashing should be the leastof your worries." She threatened, making fierce eye contact with each and every member of the house. All 32 of them.
"My brother would like to say a few words." She finished, returning to the front of the room via the aisle behind the Gryffindors. Immediately, everyone's attention was turned to the man at the front of the room, who was now clutching a scroll he'd pulled out of his interior cloak pocket. He began to read the words directly off it.
"Beginning this year, all students, excluding The Noble House of Salazar Slytherin, shall be enrolled in a new program. This new program is called The Triple House Trials and will be starting tomorrow. You will face numerous tests and evaluations to determine your competency."
Suddenly the great hall was buzzing with noise, sounds of protest and cries of outrage. Slytherin students were laughing.
"Silence!" Bellowed Alecto, jabbing her wand into the air and letting a roar of fire burst forth. The sudden display awed and frightened the others into silence. The fire massacred the 3 house banners above the other tables before dissolving into nothing above their heads, leaving ringing ears and fluttering scraps of burnt flag behind it
"He wasn't offering you a say in the matter, brats! Now shut your gobs, next time it'll be you the fire eats."
Nobody doubted her, and all sat quietly as they waited for her brother to continue.
"The trials are designed to prove if you are capable of carrying out a few simple tasks that are to be completed within the next few months." Amycus finished, rolling up his parchment and returning it to the inside pocket of his cloak. Every student seemed to be unsatisfied with the lack of information, and began grumbling unhappily.
Sarah pondered the new information with curiosity. If the new program had been an idea of Voldemort's, (she believed it was), wouldn't he have assigned it to the Slytherins? Certainly he'd want his future minions to go through the tests and trials to assign them a level of competency?
"Can't be right..." She murmured, pushing her empty bowl to the center of the table. Pansy looked up at her once more, suspicion on her face once more.
"McGonagall." Alecto said, sounding very much like she was ordering McGonagall to hand out schedules, even though the professor had been about to do so anyway. McGonagall's lips twisted grimly as she walked out from behind the teachers table and toward the Gryffindor table. The other head of houses joined her.
"What now, Frost?" Pansy demanded, now that students were aloud to talk once again.
"Hmm?" Sarah intoned, looking up from the grained wood table.
"What are you mumbling about over there?"
"Oh, nothing." Sarah said, reaching for a drink of pumpkin juice. Pansy snatched it before she could get there, her eyes intense.
"Tell me."
Sarah sighed and let her hand drop to the table in resignation. She felt like kicking Pansy in the shins with the toe of her boots, but why bother? It would cause an uproar in the hierarchy of the house.
"I'm just wondering why the Dark Lord would test the others and not us."
Pansy set down the goblet she'd stolen and sat back, satisfied to get an answer but confused about what it was.
"I mean, we're going to be the ones to serve him, shouldn't we be proving our worth? The Gryffindors would kill themselves before joining him, the Hufflepuffs are too cowardly, and the pratty Ravenclaws can't do anything without a manual." Sarah lied, narrowing her own eyes at Pansy.
The bulldog of a female considered her words for a moment before speaking up.
"But we don't know what the task is. It could be...testing the cruciatus curse. Of course he wouldn't want us to be the test subjects." Pansy scoffed, flipping some of her hair over her shoulder.
Sarah remained silent as she thought about what Voldemort's task might be. Maybe he was practicing his crucio for when he finally met up with Potter?
'No,' thought Sarah, accepting her schedule from Slughorn, who was filling in for their old head of house, Snape. Voldemort was probably up to something else…Something even worse.
