The First Muggleborn
"Wake up already! Come on!" A voice urged as hands shook me back and forth violently in my bed.
"Go away, Timothy. It's a Saturday morning."
"Wake up, Gerald, Professor Slytherin passed away!"
My eyes shot open and I shifted into a sitting position with enough force to through Timothy onto the floor. "What?" I could feel panic gripping my heart.
When I was sorted into Slytherin, I almost wanted to die. I, a muggleborn, born into the house renowned for purebloods. But the day after the sorting ceremony, Salazar Slytherin had requested I visit him. He was suspicious about me. He had asked how a mudblood could possibly have been sorted into Slytherin. I tried to explain I didn't know as I really hadn't known. He accused me of cheating the system, though, I could hold my cool for no longer.
"Oh yes, I, and eleven year-old with no training whatsoever, managed to cast enough magic on a hat created by the four most powerful wizards in existence to get me sorted into a house that wants me dead; all without anyone seeing me do it." I was afraid he might kill me right there for such a sarcastic response.
"That house has a piece of each of us in it. It saw something in you that put you here, which means it was me who put you here."
"But I thought you hated muggleborns?"
"No. I am worried for wizards around the world. If we continue to choose muggles as mates, the blood is going to get thinner. There will be fewer muggles. That is why I want to keep the purest of bloods together: so the wizarding race stays strong."
A week later, he held a gathering of all Slytherins in the common. "As some of you may have noticed, a muggleborn was place among us." His voice was quiet and calm. "He is one of us, no matter his heritage, and I want you all to remember that. If you are not capable of feeling that way, I won't force you to be his friends. But I warn you, anyone who attacks him will have to answer to me as I am his surrogate father for as long as he is in this castle. Do I make myself clear?" Everyone nodded. Though Slytherin was nice, he was still known to have a rather sharp temper.
As far as I'd known, he was the only reason the others tolerated me. Now that he was gone, I had no one to help me. I took a deep breath to fight back the tears before I got up and got dressed. I knew what was waiting for me outside my room's door. A bunch of Slytherins ready to finally take all their frustrations out. For that reason, I held my wand in my hand as I walked out.
"Expelliarmus!" A boy shouted the second he saw me. My wand flew to him. "Well well, what the pathetic mudblood going to do now that daddy's dead?" He threatened me.
"Stupify!" I flinched, expecting the impact of the spell; but it never came. I opened my eyes to see another 6th year pointing his wand with a look of disgust on his face. "Slytherin said he was one of ours! Does that change now? Is he not still our brother?" He asked of the others. They answered with sombre eyes of agreement. He walked to me. "My names Charles. If you ever have problems with idiots like him, you can always tell any one of us. You are a brother."
"Th- thank you." I said, struggling to fight back tears as I picked my wand up off the floor.
As I stood back up, Charles wrapped his arms around me. "It was a great loss for all of us, there is no need to hide your tears." He whispered into my ears. "We are all friends, you can trust us."