Despite what some Gryffindors and Slytherins might lead you to believe, it's not so odd for members of different houses to be friends. Take my group of friends, for example; there are nine of us, and together we represent all four houses. Tatiana and Sven are Slytherins; Markus, Quinn, and Joan are Ravenclaws; Phoebe and Ramona are Hufflepuffs; and Colin and I are Gryffindors. Despite those small differences, we're all such great friends that it's almost like, well, magic.
Every day we find some time to all get together and hang out. Usually we just talk and laugh, but sometimes something happens or is said that's a little . . . odd. There was one in particular that sticks out in my mind.
That night, it was late enough that most of the other students had already finished their dinners and returned to their common rooms, but we'd stayed behind. Gathered together at the head of the nearly-empty Hufflepuff table, we started sharing stories about our day.
Colin had just finished telling a story about a potions mishap when Markus, raising an ebony-skinned hand to brush his shaggy blue hair out of his eyes, asked me, "Speaking of strange incidents, Layla, didn't something happen with one of the girls in your house?"
"I don't . . ." I started before recognition set in and the event came back to me. "Oh, yes, that."
"Well, come on," Ramona prompted, "we're dying to know."
I glanced around at the faces of my friends, then began, "I don't know . . ." before the curious eyes boring into my skin prompted me to tell what I knew.
"Okay, so there was this new girl – Ebony, I think was her name – and she got reprimanded for being out of uniform. But get this, when the professor pointed it out, she just started telling him, in detail, exactly what she was wearing."
Joan, Quinn, and Ramona leaned in as if to hear better. "You're joking, right?"
"Nope, it's all true. So they had to forcibly remove her, and the whole time she was screaming about Harry Potter."
"Harry Potter hasn't been here for years," Markus said. "She must have really been out of it."
"Understatement of the year," I responded. "But she seemed confident that he was here and that she knew him. Also Draco Malfoy. She was saying she was going with him to Hogsmeade to see something called 'em see ar.'"
"What's that?" inquired Phoebe in her characteristic whispering voice.
"No idea, and nobody I asked knew either."
"Probably a muggle thing," Tatiana suggested. "I'd bet she was a mudblood."
"Tati!" exclaimed Quinn, her raven hair flying out as she whirled to face the other girl.
"Right, sorry," Tatiana apologized, ducking her head almost imperceptibly.
"It's not me you need to apologize to," one black-haired girl scolded the other.
Tatiana's deep brown eyes raised to mine as she told me, "Sorry, Layla," then, leaning forward to see around Quinn, looked at Phoebe. "Sorry, Phoebe."
Quinn clasped Phoebe's hand in her own – dusky skin standing in contrast against pale – as she gazed into the light blue eyes of the shy blonde Hufflepuff, communicating silently. Some understanding passed between them, and Quinn, seemingly satisfied, turned back to me, her fingers still intertwined with Phoebe's, and insisted, "You have to tell us what happened next."
With a shrug of my shoulders, I admitted, "There's not really anything to tell. I'm guessing she was expelled, considering all her stuff is gone, although the area around her bed will take some fixing."
"Fixing?" Tatiana prompted quizzically, her dark eyebrows arching, from her customary position against Sven's side.
"Yeah, she somehow turned the wall and floor around her bed as well as her bed itself entirely black."
"Ooh, that sounds like a great idea!" chirped Ramona. "Although I don't know if black would really be the best color . . ."
"It's not really anything new or surprising," I continued, "it's just that we don't exactly know how to fix it, although I suppose a professor can do that for us. The only other area like that is a part of our common room that isn't really accessible."
"Not accessible?" Joan questioned. "How is there part of your common room that's not accessible?"
"It's always . . . occupied," Colin answered.
"How so?"
"There's a group that stays there and they're very hostile to any 'outsiders.'"
"Do they always wear black and have dark makeup?" Everyone turned to the end of the table to look at Sven at the sound of his deep, rolling, vaguely Slavic-sounding voice.
"Yeah, actually, they do," responded Colin. "Are there some like them in Slytherin too?"
Sven nodded, his thick ponytail of dark mahogany hair swaying gently from side to side. "There are. And we have the same problem." As he said the word we he briefly tightened the arm draped across Tatiana's shoulders, pulling her slightly closer, to include her.
"Well, that's . . . actually not that surprising." Joan turned towards Colin and Tatiana leaned forward, both girls opening their mouths to rebuke him. Seeing this, he insisted, "No, no, I didn't mean it as an insult! I'm sorry."
As they all calmed down, I asked Sven, "So, how much of the Slytherin common room do they have?"
"About a third, maybe half."
"Wow," I responded, blinking in surprise. "Ours only have one corner."
"I think there are a few like them in Ravenclaw too," Joan pitched in.
"I think you're right," Quinn agreed, "although if they've taken over any part of the common room, I haven't seen it."
"We definitely have some," declared Markus, "and one of them is in my dorm. He did the same thing to his bed as that Ebony girl. They all hang out there." Then, almost as if talking to himself, he added, "One of them is so attractive . . ."
A small side discussion started about who that attractive student was, but I noticed that there were two who weren't participating. Shy Phoebe's silence wasn't surprising, but the normally boisterous, eccentric Ramona was silent as well, and the two of them were sharing knowing glances, as if there was something they weren't revealing.
"Hey, Ramona, Phoebe, is something wrong?"
They seemed nervous and Ramona let her long, thick purple hair fall forward to cover one purple eye.
Pushing further, I asked, "Does Hufflepuff have any of those . . ."
"Goths," Ramona said. "They call themselves goths."
"So you do have some?" I tried to keep the surprise out of my voice, but not very effectively.
Both girls nodded.
"Well, I'm sure you don't have the problem the rest of us have. They probably don't even take up as much room as the Ravenclaw goths, right?"
"They, um . . ." started Phoebe nervously.
Ramona finished for her. "They have the entire common room."
The discussion with Markus, already tapering off as it was, fell away completely as shocked silence overtook everyone. Every non-Hufflepuff, aside from Quinn, who couldn't take her eyes off Phoebe, glanced between the two girls who'd just made that shocking revelation.
Quinn was the first to break the silence, crying, "Oh, my poor Phoebe!" and pulling the quiet blonde into a tight embrace.
"It's not so bad most of the time, really," Ramona insisted, speaking while nobody else seemed to be able to. "They haven't actually turned anything black and it's not like they keep us out of the common room. They're just . . . always there. Sometimes in winter they all stand around the fireplace so nobody else can get close, but other than that . . ." As she trailed off, she glanced around to gauge everyone's reactions.
Silence lay thickly over us all until Phoebe whispered, "We should probably be going to bed soon."
Ramona nodded in agreement and the two of them stood, everyone else following their lead. Everyone said their goodnights, albeit in a more subdued manner than usual, and departed. Sven walked off with Tatiana, an arm around her waist. Markus ruffled Ramona's thick purple curls playfully before following Joan out of the Great Hall. Colin walked quickly after, his eyes never leaving the sight of Joan's chocolaty brown pigtails, and I let my feet slowly take me in the same direction.
Before I left, I caught a glimpse of Quinn and Phoebe locked in a tight hug followed by a quick kiss on the cheek. While still in earshot, I heard the slight vibrations of voices, then footsteps walking away.
Quinn caught up with me in the corridor and we walked along together. "That was quite an interesting conversation," she mused.
"It was. I can honestly say I'll never look at or think of Hufflepuffs the same way again."
"Neither will I. And now I'm even more eager to see Phoebe again in the morning."
I didn't respond aloud, just smiled to myself instead. Some things would never change.