Author's note: Don't worry, I'll make this short and sweet. This is my first fanfiction. So, if I am making any huge errors don't be polite. TELL ME about them. Otherwise, I will be doomed to make the same stupid mistake on everything I write till the day I die. Thank you for reading this, I hope you enjoy the story.
Disclaimer: I'm not J.K. I don't own Harry Potter & co.
People generally think that Slytherin is the rotten apple of Hogwarts. And fifty years ago they may have been right. Tom Riddle certainly isn't a upstanding example of Hogwarts alumni, and with a serpent on its emblem the house couldn't possibly be filled with sugar and spice. But now the snake pit mostly consists of pride and hollow threats, a mere echo of what it once was. The only thing Slytherin had a right to stand for anymore were the dangers of inbreeding. And even as surly as the snake looses its venom, the eagle gains its talons…
The house commons were cold that morning, the light haze coming in through the windows adding a chilled tone to the blue banners and sofas which were so thoughtfully spread through out the room. And despite the early hour many students were up attending to maters before the sun blessed the grounds with its sweet yellow presence. Though there are many stories I could tell you of the happenings in the room that would capture your imagination for some time, at the moment we will focus in on a quite ordinary seeming girl sitting in a stool by the window.
She was about eleven and there was nothing remarkable about her. She had pale skin and black hair, not an alabaster complexion and midnight tresses. Her eyes were a grayish blue and spoke of long days filled with reading and contemplation. She was even common enough to have that somewhat childish lost look that most first years had.
Indeed, she seemed no different than any Hogwarts student. She sat in the chair, back straight, hands in her lap, her head tilted slightly to the left and an a interested sort of smile on her face. She was looking out the window onto a misty Hogwarts landscape. Right before the window were five hot spring pools, with the forest afterward. This was the closest the forest got to the castle. In between the springs and forest was a rather lovely little field which at any other time of year would be filled with wild flowers and herbs. This season however, it was richly blanketed with a think layer of snow. Altogether it made for a great view, though most Ravenclaws were to busy to notice it. Adding to the appeal were the young centaurs that came to bathe in the warm springs.
Centaur young didn't learn to speak English till they were around eight. It was a odd custom their adults had, they believed that each of them must know eight years of purity to be able to see the stars properly. Till eight, the younglings all stayed together in a "herd". The herd was closely observed and never allowed to leave the forest. By the time anyone saw a colt they were at least ten. Except for the ritual bathing. Since they were supposed to be pure they couldn't really be allowed to stink. So, once a week in the winter, when other ponds were frozen, the tribe elder and one of the tribe mothers took them early in the morning to be cleansed in the hot spring.
So, seeing them frolic in the warm water, watching as delight spread across their faces when a friend splashed them was a rare treat for Morgan. To see something so pure, yet so human at the same time, brought back one's faith in the world. When one tackled another, she broke her stillness with laughter as her shoulders shook, her back bent and she brought her hand to her mouth.
Morgan sighed as the chimes rang out that class had started. Then, grimly stuffing her bag with books, she prepared to leave the Ravenclaw common room which now looked so welcoming in comparison with the day ahead.
She looked around the room. As the girl gazed around affectionately a little color came into her pale cheeks, and her eyes grew with a glitter that only books could inspire in her. The room was more of a library than a place to gather, play games, and tell jokes by the fire. The shelves were filled with rare and exclusive texts. One of the rules of Ravenclaw house was that when you grew up, if you published anything you had to donate at least one copy of the texts to the Ravenclaw house. Since the members of Ravenclaw were particularly bookish, they were the ones most likely not only to enjoy books, but write them as well. So, as a result of the ancient rule, there were libraries all around the castle that only Ravenclaw students had access to, and it also had the unexpected side effect of making Ravenclaw the only house with access to an "adult" library. But, the rule was made by the founders, so what could the current administration do?
She turned away from the room and hurried to breakfast. If she wasn't quick there wouldn't be any cocoa or coffee left when she got there. And nobody down there was going to save her any.