"Slytherin!" The hat on Harriet's head boomed, wriggling around on her curls. The appropriate table burst into confused cheers, disorganized and choppy, like they didn't know what they were doing. Harriet herself didn't know what she was doing, even as she hopped off the stool and stumbled towards her new housemates.
For fucks sake, I'm supposed to go to Gyffindor, with Ronald and Hermi-something-or-other and all the other blundering idiots who don't know their limits! They're the most logical choice! Don't I look frizzy and reckless enough to have a martyr complex? Her thoughts screamed, raging as she settled, outwardly calm with a lopsided smirk, onto the bench with the other first years. I can set anything on fire, I dress tacky, (Though through no desire of my own. These robes are tasteless.) and I get into trouble all the time! I even have a troubled past! I'm a perfect stereotypical hero! Don't tell me this is about gender, people!
It occurred to her that she was arguing with her own mind, at which point she just accepted the handshake of the boy next to her and batted her eyelashes at the next, all the while still internally shouting. She even exchanged names with a set of girls two seats down. Pansy and Ghilda.
Why, they seem like brats already! Good people! She mentally commented, scooting over to make room as another joined the table but not bothering to look as Pansy had just mentioned something interesting. Apparently, wizards even had their own swear words. A whole new vocabulary of insults to learn! Fu-I mean, Merlin yeah!
"Oh, Harriet! Nice to see you again!" The new arrival behind her crooned, and she paused in explaining the many applications of "Heck" to an oddly fascinated Ghilda, to turn and check if it was really who she thought it was. It was. Lovely.
"Draco, of course! Why, it's been nearly five minutes!" She teased gently, waving her hand dismissively as Ghilda tried to re-attract her attention. She had met the boy earlier and been quite charmed, despite Ronald's seeming animosity towards him. Suddenly, Slytherin didn't seem half as bad, now that she had something pretty to look at. "In a bit, Sweetheart. But really, Draco, you don't have to call me Harriet. Call me Harry. Or just follow in the Dursley's footsteps and call me freak, trash, whore, or just hit me when you want my attention, or something normal like that. I'd hate to tongue tie you with a long name." She drawled, and noticed that an old man with a frankly amazing beard had taken place behind the pulpit among the ensuing silence.
"...What?" Draco closed his gaping mouth, and somewhere down the table life began again. "Wh-why would I ever call you any of those things? Or hit you?" He sounded shell shocked, as did most of the other Slytherin surrounding them look. The area of life began to grow, but those closest to her had the decency to remain silent.
"It's less troublesome that way, so that they didn't have to waste breathe on a freak like me that way, the Dursley's said. At least, one time they did. The other time I asked Petunia just shrieked at me to get out of her kitchen and back into my closet, company was coming over and they didn't want a monster like me to be seen by respectable people. Then she threw a plate at my head and cried about me breaking her best china when it hit. You know, normal stuff. Doesn't this happen to you?" Harriet asked, looking fully over when the man began to speak before turning back again when she discovered he had nothing important to say. "What? Say something!" She grumbled, and Draco slowly shook his head.
"No... That's not normal. I think you were abused." Harriet shrugged. "Oh, is that what they're calling it now? That's cute. I personally prefer to call it hell, but whatever. On a related note, Draco, will you marry me?"
xXx
I was bored. So have a terrible crackfic.
Thank your for your time!