Natasha really hated people being mean. As if it wasn't enough that she had to deal with it her whole life before she was eleven. Now she had to face it at Hogwarts. Her home.
Her dark skin and robes meant that she easily blended into her surroundings, that wasn't necessarily how she wanted it to be. But that was how it was. Her chocolate brown eyes constantly assessing her surroundings, as if she were on the lookout for those who might tease her.
It was not an easy feat, making Natasha feel small. But Draco Malfoy had a talent for it.
Sitting at the Slytherin table, slowly chewing her breakfast, Natasha endured his teasing. She dealt with his name calling, even if she didn't understand it. And she doubted the words of the sorting hat, even five years later, that she was truly a Slytherin.
"You're a tricky one Natasha. Very tricky indeed. Determined, yes. And loyal. Oh, I see it, your wit that is. Knows no bounds. Hmm and brave. Any house would suit you well. But do you have the skill to apply it? I believe so, it's small. Lurking. There's a desire here, to prove yourself to be the best. And the cunning too. Yet no maliciousness. A truly difficult case you are Miss Pink. Almost had me stumped for a second. Alas I have made my decision. SLYTHERIN!"
Natasha heard the voice of the sorting hat echo few times before it hid itself in the recesses of her mind as the rest of the great hall clapped.
Slytherin? She had thought. Of all the houses it had to be Slytherin? With all of those stuck up purebloods. I think not.
She was about to make a complaint when she felt the hat being plucked off her head by McGonagall. And she was ushered to the table that her house ate at. With a scowl on her face she sat, next to a fat girl with muddy brown hair and eyes. The thin blond haired boy opposite had smirked as if he'd just won the lottery. His silver eyes had glittered with the prospect of having another follower. As Natasha had already found out, that was not something she wanted to be.
"Draco Malfoy, pureblood." He extended his hand across the table. Natasha threw a glare his way.
"Natasha Pink, mudblood." She had replied cooly. The fat girl beside her shuffled away a few inches. "And proud of it."
Malfoy's jaw had dropped. And his arm was pulled back into his sleeve.
"Oi. Pinky." Natasha heard the irksome nickname being called from further up the table. "You lost your appetite? Scared of what Umbridge is going to do to you once she uncovers you and your little friend's? Because we will get you. All we need is a sniffer dog. He'll be able to smell yours and Granger's dirty blood through walls." Draco sniggered along with his friends, the rest of the inquisitorial squad. Natasha gritted her teeth as she did each and every day, silently wishing that he'd Malfoy would choke on his eggs. Of course she would have no such luck. Gathering her belongings, she trudged out of the great hall still able to hear Malfoy's snickers echoing off the high ceiling.
Five years after the sorting and his taunts still plagued her. His prejudice that muggle-borns were second rate witches and wizards made her blood boil. Just because she was a Slytherin didn't mean he had to be cruel. Yet at the same time, she believed that just because she wasn't a Gryffindor didn't mean she couldn't be brave.