'SLYTHERIN PRIDE, HUFFLEPUFF PREJUDICE'
Two boys. Two different families. One school.
Meet Ven Zabini and Alistair Nott who are as different as night and day. Follow their story of how they grow up studying in Hogwarts, the most magnificent School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, where everything isn't always what it seems to be.
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or anything related to it. Recognizable characters and parts of the Harry Potter story line belong to J.K. Rowling, Bloomsbury Publishing, and Warner Bros. respectively. I don't make any profit by writing this. Thank you.
FIRST YEAR
Chapter 1. Letters from Hogwarts
Near the city of Bristol, in Gloucester to be exact, stood proudly an old and prestige manor. It was surrounded by acres of luscious gardens and fields and for an outsider it was inviting, tantalizing even. But for a reason the people of Gloucester avoided the manor as well as they could. There were rumours about the manor's inhabitants. The rumours held weird things about why the residents of the manor avoided people, and why no one usually even saw them outside the grand building. You see, the manor belonged to wizarding family.
There lived the Zabinis, the Italian purebloods who had decades away moved to the British Isles and taken the manor for themselves.
It hadn't been a surprise Mrs. Zabini, an old yet beautiful witch who had owned the manor, had moved back to Italy to her summer residence in Tuscany when she had managed to marry off Blaise, her only child. Of course it had taken a lot of planning and persuading to find a girl worth Zabini name, and at last she had found a girl just right to fit her son.
Maria Amell was a daughter from a well known Italian wizard family. She was the younger sister Bella Amell, a witch who had been valued for her looks in Southern Wizarding Europe in the late nineties. Maria had just graduated from Beauxbatons Academy of Magic before her arranged marriage with Blaise Zabini in 2001. And like many other arranged pureblood marriages, the union between Blaise and Maria wasn't built on love, but on a hunger to gain more wealth and power.
After their marriage, Blaise and Maria lived alone in the manor for almost five years until Maria had had enough of the angry howlers she was receiving from her mother-in-law.
The library door opened with a creak and a boy stepped in, holding a parchment in his hands.
"Mother."
The woman raised her eyes from the book she had been reading. She was very beautiful with her straight dark hair that reached her lower back and her olive skin but she didn't show any hint of a smile. Instead she looked at the boy in front of her with almost bored expression.
"What is it now, Ven?" she asked in a rather tired tone, her accent giving away her Italian origins.
"I got my letter", the boy said with a tight-lipped smile and handed the letter to the woman.
He had an intelligent look in his eyes – in the calculating almond-shaped hazel eyes that were just like his father's – and his skin was darker than the woman's and yet they managed to look alike.
Ventus Zabini was the boy's name though he preferred being called just Ven. He had, just like every other young witch and wizard in the Britain and Ireland who would turn eleven years old before 30th of September, received his acceptance letter from the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He would be attending one of the best wizarding schools in Europe just like his father had done before.
The woman, Maria, handed the letter back to her son after reading it through.
"Bring it to your father," she said and returned back to her book. "And… congratulations."
Blaise Zabini was more interested in his son's letter than Maria. He took an old, moving photograph off the wall from where he had it been attached and sat down to the leather sofa. Ven had actually caught a glimpse of the photo on the wall countless of times but this was going to be the first time Blaise was showing it to him so he sat next to his father to get a better look of it. It looked brand new but the small text in the bottom corner told otherwise.
Year 1991.
The children in the picture wore green and silver in their school robes. They stood haughtily in a straight line, most of them having similar, confident expressions.
"Draco Malfoy, Vincent Crabbe, Gregory Goyle, and Theodore Nott," Blaise started and pointed the faces one after another, skipping only the one Ventus knew to be young Blaise.
Ven nodded but didn't interrupt. Instead he watched as Blaise slid his finger on the photograph. Ventus looked carefully at the faces of the other children in the picture.
"Daphne Greengrass, Pansy Parkinson, Millicent Bulstrode, and Tracey Davis," Blaise said and even gave a smallest of pure smiles as he watched the photo. "We were the Slytherin class of the year 1991."
Ven was still looking at the boys in the photograph. It wasn't easy to believe the grown man next to him and the tall but round-faced eleven years old in the moving photo were the same person. They hardly looked alike but everyone knew that people can change when they grow up. And not just by their looks.
"Goyle and Parkinson got married few years after the war, and their daughter is couple years older than you," Blaise told slowly. "She's a Slytherin like her parents. Malfoy instead–"
He pointed at the blonde boy who was a little smaller than the others.
"–married to the younger Greengrass sister. They have a son, about your age."
Ven nodded. It wasn't the first time he heard the Malfoy family being mentioned by his father. He had even shortly met the Malfoys couple times, and none of them had been a happy meeting, not in Mr. Malfoy's opinion at least.
"And then there's Nott," Blaise continued. "He too has a son, same age as you."
Ven studied the scrawny boy who in the picture stood between Blaise and a small blonde girl and nervously fumbled his sleeves. Blaise stood up and put the photograph back to the wall. He crossed his arms, still looking the photograph, and sighed deeply.
"It's more than probable that you three end up in Slytherin as well. And when you do, I want you to keep eye on them."
Ven was more curious than confused by his father's request. "And why so?"
Blaise sat back down and placed his hand on Ven's shoulder.
"Because you can never trust in a Slytherin completely, especially when they come from certain families," Blaise said seriously. "They can become either your friends, or your enemies. Your choice." He paused for a moment and moved his hand away. "There are reasons you'll understand later."
If there was something Ven had learnt during the years it was that his father valued his profession. He did important work, and this had something to do with it. Ven just knew it.
In the very same day in a friendly neighbourhood in Bexley yet another letter from the very same place had found its way to yet another magical household. No one would ever suspect that something out of ordinary was happening inside the walls of the house, so normal it looked for one who knew nothing about magic. For an unsuspecting muggle there were no sign of flying pans and kettles in the small kitchen, self-writing quills in the study, or the toys that moved without electricity around the house.
That was where the Notts lived.
When the Wizarding War had been over in 1998, Theodore Nott had thought his life had been over before it had even really started. His father had been sentenced to a life imprisonment in Azkaban, a group of Aurors had turned his home upside down and claimed a collection of family heirlooms, and he hadn't finished his seventh year and the idea of going back to Hogwarts seemed so distant. He had felt utterly lost.
Until, during his eight year, the fate had introduced him a witty and beautiful girl called Ana Thompson. She hadn't care he was a Slytherin, or a pureblood, or that he was a son of a Death Eater. She had only cared about the man behind those prejudiced titles. And they had fallen in love.
"Look, mother, look! Look what the owl brought me! It's from Hogwarts!"
A small woman with freckles dusting her round face and wavy blonde hair pulled into a messy ponytail smiled widely. The dimples appeared to her cheeks and she laughed and ruffled the boy's hair.
"Well go show it to Theodore," she said. "I'll make our late breakfast ready."
The boy nodded, and soon the small steps echoed from the staircase when he ran hastily upstairs, the letter in his hands. He opened the first door in the second floor, revealing a study room full of books and parchments in dangerously high piles.
"Father!" the boy called, his big chocolate brown eyes shining. "I got my letter from Hogwarts!"
The tall man behind the desk looked at the boy. "Alistair," he started, writing few words on a piece of parchment. "I have told you not to run in the stairs."
"I'm sorry", the boy said and bowed his head slightly.
The name was called Alistair Nott. His strawberry blonde hair was a mess from running and ruffling and his cheeks were flushed pink, making the freckles over his cheeks clearly stand out. Alistair shared only a slight resemblance with his stoic father. He had the same eye colour but his hair and facial features were from his mother.
He gave the letter to Theodore. "Mother told me to show it to you," he added.
Theodore read the letter and let out a small sigh. Many things had changed since the year 1991 when he had started his studies at Hogwarts. He put the letter back to its envelope and moved it on top of a pile of papers.
"Did she, now?" Theodore asked with a hint of amusement in his voice. "She wants us to go down for lunch, doesn't she?"
"Late breakfast," Alistair corrected. "Will we go shopping soon?" he asked enthusiastically.
The man let out a laugh. "At Saturday," he said. "Yes."
Alistair couldn't hold back a smile.
"There you are!" Ana chuckled when her husband and son appeared to the kitchen door. "Don't just stand there. Sit down! We have bacon, eggs, toast…"
"Father promised we'll go shopping at Saturday," Alistair said proudly when he sat down and took the first bite from his toast. "Will you come with us?"
Ana shook her head. "No, I'll be needed at the Ministry," she said, placing the teakettle on the table. "But you can have some good time with your father, right? Make sure he doesn't look at other women."
Alistair giggled and Theodore rolled his eyes behind the Daily Prophet.
"I've never looked at the other women after I met you," he reminded his wife with a slight smirk. "Or before it," he added. Alistair didn't bother to look away when Ana leaned to kiss Theodore behind the Prophet.
"I know," Ana said with a bright smile. "I know."
It wouldn't be long until two young boys from two different families would meet each other.