Saturday 3rd May 1997,
My name, if you don't know already, is Tracey Abigail Davis. I'm a 6th year Slytherin and have strict, pureblood parents. They tell me that we're related to the Blacks, Silwens, Malfoys and many more of the more important pureblood families.
"What a' you doing?" sneered Pansy Parkinson from behind my shoulder, I froze. Not again. "Not writing a diary, are you?" she smiled evilly before pushing me off the black leather sofa and onto the hard floor.
The book which I had been writing in flew out of my hands and slid across the slick black tiles; I looked at it sadly from my position as my arm draped towards its general direction.
Pansy strutted over to it and picked it up, her friends sniggering at me from a safe distance away. She flicked it open to where I had just been writing, and as she began to read, I stood up.
"My name," she read, sneering down at me, " if you don't know already,- Who would know your name?" a few of her friends laughed. "is Tracey Abigail Davis." she continued,
"What a stupid name," one of her cronies stuttered, before Pansy started again,
"I'm a 6th year Slytherin and have strict, pureblood parents. They tell me that we're related to the Blacks, Silwens, Malfoys and many more of the very important pureblood families." she let out a noise that sounded rather like a distressed elephant and threw the book down onto the sofa. "You," she sneered, turning to face me, "are not important. You never were and you never will be." she stopped to punch me full in the face and muttered below her breath, so only I could hear her, "No matter what your squib family tells you." she pushed me then stalked off with her followers, my nose was trickling with hot red blood, it felt out of place and pain was shooting through my body. I stumbled as the world started to spin around me and the ground pulled to my head, I sighed in pain and took one last look around the deserted common room before everything turned black.
"Davis." said a monotone silky voice, I opened my eyes, my nose ached with hard pain and I could feel the dried blood on my lips, unfortunately I remembered every harsh word and thought that had been put in my mind, and that hurt more than the physical pain.
"Davis, get up. Now." the silky voice came again, and as I sat up, my body pulsed with the other aches in my body. Disorientated thoughts made my back fall against the sofa with a soft thud. On looking up, I found the full figure of Severus Snape, my head of house, in front of me.
His disapproving gaze landed on my nose.
"Clean yourself up quickly, otherwise you might have to go to the Hufflepuffs for breakfast." he sneered, but it wasn't as harsh as usual, he seemed more tired but more irritable also; sadly this never went well with Snape.
I stood up and hobbled to the mirror, where I could see that the browned blood had left a messy trail from my wonky nose to my chin.
A quick cleaning spell wiped the blood from my face, but my nose was left crooked. I'd have to get Daphne to fix it for me. No! I kept forgetting, Daphne wasn't back yet from wherever she had gone, though I really hoped that she'd be back soon. If she came back at all, that is.
I considered going up for breakfast; but another shoot of pain in my nose made me think that better time would be spent in the hospital wing.
—–-
I was soon back on the leather sofa, my nose was fixed but still hurt badly.
I could hear Pansy outside in the hall, chatting and laughing with her friends and coming closer to the entrance of the common room.
I sighed.
I didn't want a repeat of last night.
But, as always, there will be. It's not the same every night, but there is crap remarks and slaps, kicks and punches. There will be laughs about my family and jokes about my squib sister. I will take them in and they'll make me crumble, but for now I suppose I will just have to wait, as long as it takes for this oncoming war to end.
As long as it takes for Dumbledore to win.
The long nights turned into a year that came and went quickly; before long Dumbledore was dead and Snape had overtaken the castle.
Pansy was more terrible now that the rules coincided with her behaviour, my parents were always on guard as You-know-who wanted either to recruit them or kill them, Draco was never around and there were rumours that he was now a death-eater and had it in for everyone in his year. There was a war looming, and that seemed the only thing that was sure.
I could have faced Pansy and Draco, I could have even faced the war if there wasn't one, rather big problem. Daphne.
Daphne Greengrass was my best and only friend; she was also my protector against most things: from Pansy's taunts to Umbidge's blood-quill punishments. The problem was that she wasn't here, and she hadn't been for a year. The last thing I said to her was
"See you in Herbology"
But she wasn't in Herbology, or Charms. That night her bed in our dormitory vanished, and her stuff did too. She hasn't answered my Owls and her house was empty when I floo'd there in the summer. She wasn't coming back.
For the third time in a week I was in the Owlery, I was waiting for my owl to return from its supposed journey to Daphne, though I knew it wouldn't bring a letter too. I was sitting in my usual shadowy corner, chosen especially so I couldn't be seen by the rest of the room and I could also make a quick escape, if needed.
If someone would come in (though no one did much anymore) I would expect it to be a Slytherin coming to look for Dumbledore's army, or one of the army themselves.
Draco Malfoy was by far the least of my expectations. But he was here.
According to Pansy, he had returned home for the rest of the year after a nasty spout of Crablefeet had taken hold of him. Everybody knew this wasn't true, but he had been missing from lessons for a good few weeks.
This wasn't surprising, though, with the war looming many had been taken home, some even into hiding.
But, against all odds, Draco was walking through the Owlery towards the window, his eyes ablaze with his thoughts.
I listened carefully, and was sure I heard him say something, something that sounded like:
"Slytherin?"
His back was turned towards me, so I managed to creep closer, being careful not to rustle the strands of hay beneath my legs. I could hear his spoken thoughts much more clearly now,
"Come on Draco," he was telling himself, "You can do it." he reached for his sleeve as his body rattled with shakes, his hand twitching and turning out of control. Draco leant against the window and looked out towards the castle. Crystal tears fell from his eyes, splashing against the floor with soft plops, he sniffed and looked down at his left arm. "Are you a Slytherin, or not?" this seemed to empower him and he drew himself up, pulling his hand up his lithe arm and revealing the pale skin underneath, revealing something else. A dark black tattoo of a skull and a serpent, writhing and pulsing on his arm. In other words, a dark mark.
He pushed his stubby wand into it and it briefly pulsed in a gruesome manner before a cloud of ivory smoke spun around him and he disappeared into it, leaving no trace of his short appearance.
I stood up and thought carefully about what I'd just seen. What was happening that affected Draco so much? Only one way to find out, I told myself as I trembled towards the window that Draco had just vacated. As my eyes peered into the darkened grounds, rough breath got caught in my throat.
A war had started.
And it was right beneath my nose.
I could see most of Voldemort's army, who were shooting spells at the protective glamour around the castle, from which students and teachers were spilling into the chaos.
I knew I had to join and fight, the only question was which side? Where did I belong?
I had decided long ago that I wasn't a Slytherin, but where else did I belong?
I was far too cowardly for Gryffindor, I valued wit much less than the Ravenclaw's and I could never be as loyal to anything as the Hufflepuff's would be to me. That left Slytherin. Maybe that old hat was right, maybe I did belong here, was I truly, actually a Slytherin? There was no time to ponder, no time for emotions, I had to act.
I twisted round and walked out of the Owlery for the last time. The battle was in full view on front of me, the exact place were the two sides collided was where I'd walk into. Little did I know I was walking headlong into my death.
Disclaimer: No, sorry, I'm not JK Rowling and do not have any rights to Harry Potter or the magical world.
A/N: thank you for reading! This was written for lunalestrange4's characterisation competition.
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