Chapter 1
The gothic grandeur of the Great Hall was bathed in a celestial glow of golden sunshine reflected by a collage of intricate stained glass designs. Ginny Weasley smiled as a ray of light illuminated the fiery shade of her luscious red hair.
Suddenly, the warmth upon her shoulders was replaced by a chill; the sun had hidden itself behind a series of stormy clouds. Ginny signed and returned to the unfolding scene before her.
The Slytherins had made their destructive presence known to the early risers milling about the Great Hall. Ginny Weasley observed a pair of miscreants levitate a set of dishes, while pleasantly sipping a cup of pumpkin juice with two pale freckled hands.
She had a wretched copy of the Daily Prophet laid on the deep mahogany counter of her house table and examined it with mock pretense.
It was the regular nonsense the Prophet boiled every morning: wild stories about known Death Eaters and the handful of sporadic jabs concerning The-Boy-Who-Lived. She sniffed indifferently at a moving picture of Harry Potter on the front cover and reflected on her evolving feelings towards the ebony haired boy. She recalled with great embarrassment her infatuation with him as a child and the dire trouble she caused several years before. Ginny buried her head on the pumpkin stained page of the article and successfully wrinkled the Daily Prophet in several places. Oh the horror, the horror!
Her humiliating thoughts were rudely interrupted by the jarring voice of Pansy Parkinson. Ah, 'The Reign of Terror', as Hermione Granger so artfully and accurately dubbed it had begun. Ginny Weasley believed the Muggle title snugly fit their daily theatrics of verbal and non-verbal abuse.
It seemed as though each house member endeavored to reflect a particular inhuman figure which accurately represented the traits of Salazar Slytherin. Most of the younger students aspired to mimic the lead of the ever-sneering Draco Malfoy; though a fair few handfuls looked to the elusive Blaise Zambini. They were both, as Hermione Granger so reasonable described it, "suffering from a delusional sense of reality" though Luna Lovegood was quite convinced that it was not brainwashing they suffered from, but from zumblumes, which were, according to her, rabbit-like creatures which hopped about in camouflage and attacked people with long hair.
This statement usually made everyone in the vicinity snigger and Hermione Granger to become very angry and sweep into a longwinded harangue about fiction versus reality. This was a controversial subject which annoyed Luna as well as Hermione, until Hermione was shooting daggers with her normally pleasant cinnamon eyes, and Luna reading the Quibbler with an icy indifference. "What nonsense" they would both mutter and ignore each other until it was forgotten.
"What strange friends I have." The red head pondered. Pansy Parkinson seemed to be letting her cacophonous vocals rest because Ginny had not heard them for a while. Theodore Nott was now speaking in periodic grunts, if Ginny was correct. Sometimes Ginny found it disturbing that she could differentiate their voices. As Slytherins, it seemed fitting that they should all have the same dark, monotonous, indifferent sound.
Affluent, Sneering, Humorless, Witty, and Collected. It was like an impossible standard each Slytherin was required to meet, with proper respect according to their year. The Slytherin House was indeed fascinating to a Gryffindor like Ginny Weasley; she reveled in the chance to psychoanalyze the interior motives of such a polar society. The Daily Prophet was merely a prop to hide behind her curiosity.
During the course of several years at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardly, Ginny Weasley had become accustomed to the politics and minutiae quirks of each house. The Sorting Hat was truly a fantastic work of magic; how could an object decide the very essence of an individual's personality, aspirations, and future motives at the verdant age of 11?
Hermione once said in the Muggle world there was such a study as anthropology, which was similar to her observances. With this bit of encouragement, Ginny felt inspired to appeal to her curiosity and unlock the secrets of the Houses.
In Ginny's opinion, breakfast was the ideal time to begin observation:
Most Gryffindors, according to their nature, slept until noon on the weekends, except Hermione of course.
Most Ravenclaws woke at the crack of dawn, quickly snatched some breakfast, and by 7:00 had already begun their daily routines.
The Hufflepuff House was particularly unique: It was tradition for upperclassmen to bond with lowerclassmen in order to develop a positive learning environment and promote House unity. Therefore, every member of Hufflepuff rose and entered the Great Hall simultaneously, bursting with conversation and booming with laughter.
Alternatively, the Slytherin House was a mixed group of early risers, later risers, and people who did not fit into either category. The House table was rarely occupied and students tended to sit on the edges of each bench, rather than the middle. Ginny thought this behavior reflected their nature perfectly.
"Hallo Ginny" a misty voice whispered to her far right. If Ginny wasn't so conscious of tone, she would have jumped at the sound of Luna Lovegood's unnerving presence. Ginny swiveled about in her seat and smiled at the dirty blonde sporting large red buttons as earrings; Luna Lovegood truly had an unprecedented style complemented by her hopelessly bizarre personality.
"Anything new Luna?" Ginny asked conversationally. "No" Luna vaguely replied. She blinked her enormous blue eyes, "Anything new with you, Ginny?" "Not really" answered Ginny adjusting her thin red robes and fumbling with her fingers. They sat at the Gryffindor table in suffocating silence. Ginny was beginning to feel a bit uncomfortable; she wondered what she could say which would instigate Luna's vocal cords. Luna, on the other hand seemed perfectly at ease with silence and hazily observed a set of utensils dance across the table.
Ginny wondered if Luna shared her interest in the Hogwarts Houses. She ruminated about the things she knew to be true about the Houses and the Founders themselves. It was a common fact Slytherin and Gryffindor were once close friends, though she could not see how. Gryffindor and Slytherin were separate social spheres with their own aims. She was so immersed in this progressively complex subject Ginny failed to notice a collection of figures looming closer to her and the misty Luna Lovegood.