Chapter One:
Hogwarts under the stifling control of the Ministry of Magic put quite the damper on the normally joyful return of students to the miraculous, ancient castle. For one, there was a particular chill and gloominess creeping through the air (then later recognized as a swarm of Azkaban dementors sent from the Ministry to protect the infamous school of witchcraft and wizardry). There was the rather offsetting news that a terrifying murderer and You-Know-Who supporter was on the loose and, better yet, he was after one of the students of the school. The constant fliers and reminders posted around Hogsmeade and Hogwarts that the Ministry is watching, and the Ministry is doing everything in its power to catch this man and protect the Wizarding world as well as the Muggle and the endless list of safety procedures to follow in case of encountering a dangerous wizard… no this was nothing like last year. At least the danger last year came from a giant snake living in the sewers.
Yes, the news had spread very thoroughly. Upon arrival to Hogwarts, one's first note could be its obvious lack of ability to keep things quiet, as the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, has hissed through his teeth several times for several Merlin-knows-what reasons. The entire student body, mind a few sputtering First Years, had heard about the previous Spring's exciting rendezvous with a Basilisk and how Harry Potter (yes, the Harry Potter) had slain the Basilisk with the Sword of Gryffindor and saved the youngest Weasley child from a very unfortunate death. Harry this, Harry that, and Merlin's beard here he comes again, now with a murderous, ex-Death Eater after him.
Rumor had it, however, that Potter wasn't as strong as the tales suggested. He climbed out of the carriages looking pale and shaken… apparently he had a small visit from a dementor on the Hogwarts Express. A group of Slytherin Third Years were on the steps up towards the castle when they caught sight of the bespectacled boy.
"You fainted, Potter? Is Longbottom telling the truth? You actually fainted?" A cool, amused voice broke out of the pack. Draco Malfoy, a typically arrogant and effortlessly handsome young wizard, smirked at Harry.
"Shove off, Malfoy," growled Ron Weasley, who had just dropped down from the carriage himself.
"Did you faint as well, Weasley?" Draco's voice contained more glee than malice, "Did the scary old dementor frighten you too, Weasley?"
The young Slytherins around him chuckled, amongst them a dark-haired girl with piercing eyes and a close-lipped smile. She wasn't one to usually laugh at the Malfoy boy's pathetic jabs at Harry, but the prospect of returning back to her beloved Hogwarts had put her in a good mood. Emily Rodriguez adored Hogwarts with all her heart, and she refused to let dementors or a supposed psychopath ruin her return.
"Is there a problem?" a voice was heard from the following carriage, it belonged to a raggedy man with a few scars on his face and tatters on his trunk.
"Oh, no – er – Professor," Draco responded quickly, then shot a grin to the rest of the Slytherins. He turned and started up the steps, nose up, expecting the group to follow. And they did, none wanted to stay under the glare of the new professor.
Emily, after taking one last look at the rather unprofessional looking professor, fell in step behind Malfoy, "So that's who they found for Defense?"
Draco snorted, "Yeah, my father told me about him. Remus Lupin, a loony who got the job just cause Dumbledore had a soft spot for him back in school," he shrugged, "Of course, he won't last more than a few months. Not with that outfit anyways."
"Well, he certainly seems… unconventional," Emily pressed her lips together, "Hopefully he'll teach us something."
Draco turned, walking up the stairs sideways to meet her eyes, "Ha, I wouldn't be too hopeful, Rodriguez. What do you care for Defense, anyway? Aren't you a potions kind of witch?"
"I'm a witch who prefers to be well rounded in every subject, Malfoy. Though I suppose that concept is new to narrow-minds like yours." She returned his smirk with one of her own and marched past him to get to the castle. Never mind the new professor, Defense Against the Dark Arts recruits never lasted more than a year. Emily had a focus this year, aside from her "well rounded" studies, and that was the Quidditch team. There was an opening for a Chaser on the Slytherin team since Martha Wingsley graduated last year, and Emily was certain that spot was hers. She had practiced all summer, her dives, her throws, her shooting, the position basically had her name on it already. All she had to do was destroy the tryouts. Easier said than done, of course.
The young Slytherin girl was not the only one impatient for the Quidditch season to begin, as the students poured into the Great Hall for their long awaited sorting, supper, and address from Professor Dumbledore, the captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team sat at the Gryffindor table twiddling with his silverware.
"Wood!" a cheery voice echoed from behind the captain as Alicia Spinnet, his fellow teammate, clapped him on the back and dropped on the bench next to him.
"Spinnet," replied Oliver Wood without looking up from the task at hand. He had levitated his spoon and fork and was sending them whizzing about the table as if they were broomsticks, "Have a good holiday?"
"Could've been better, we had a doxy infestation in July that took nearly a week to get rid of," Alicia turned her eyes from her captain to the games he was playing with his silverware, "What's in it for the team this year?"
The spoon and fork fell with a clatter onto the table, Wood turned and stared very sternly at Alicia, "We're going to win. We're going to train harder than ever before and we're going to crush Slytherin to a pulp and we are going to win."
Alicia, whose eyes were the size of saucers, burst out laughing, "Good old, Wood. This is your year, eh?"
"If it isn't this year then it isn't any year," mumbled Oliver, "My last year at Hogwarts, my last season as captain of this team. We've got to win the Cup this year, we've just got to."
Alicia placed a hand on his shoulder, "The teams the best it's ever been, Angelina and Katie and I never miss a shot, the twins have never been stronger, even Harry somehow got better, and you, Wood? I doubt Hogwarts has ever had a Keeper like you," she smiled and patted him, "Of course we're going to win, I can't imagine us doing anything less."
Oliver nodded and spoke a quiet thanks under his breath. He needed to be positive about this year's outcome, the odds already seemed to be stacked in their favor as Slytherin's best Chaser, Wingsley, had graduated last year. There was no way they could train up another one just as good in a few months. Still, he had to be diligent. Every last play would count this year and it was up to him to ensure his team perfected each one.
Oliver sighed and turned his head towards the front of the Hall, the sorting had just finished and Professor Dumbledore was standing up for his speech.
"Welcome!" cried the old wizard over the slight chatter throughout the room, "Welcome to another year at Hogwarts! I have a few things to say to you all, and as one of them is very serious, I think…" Oliver's attention was quickly stolen by a Quidditch daydream, which only happened far too often.
First, Johnson would veer to the left with the Quaffle, followed closely behind George Weasley, Spinnet and Bell get into triangle formation near the posts, the twins do that parallel hit by the Keeper, Harry distracts the other Chasers…
"Blimey, what'd you'd think happen if the dementors got into the castle?"
"Think they'd go after Snape?"
"No, of course not, they're after souls, remember?"
"Ah poor, soulless Snapey."
"His lack of compassion was what saved him in the end."
"Amen. To cruel, heartless bats."
"I'll drink to that, Georgey."
A soft tink of golden goblets caused Wood to look away from pretending to pay attention to Dumbledore's address and towards the set of ginger-headed twins sitting across from him who were obnoxiously slurping from their empty goblets. He stifled a laugh as Fred Weasley put his cup down and grinned at Wood.
"'Allo, Captain," the freckled boy saluted.
"Weasley and Weasley," Oliver nodded to each twin, "Ready for this year?"
"Ready?" scoffed George, "Always ready, Mr. Captain."
"Why I never knew a time when we weren't ready," winked Fred, "Got a fresh load of tricks up our sleeves. And naturally, a particularly slithery, green team will be receiving the best of them."
"You boys better work on not getting disqualified instead," Alicia interjected in a loud whisper, "And aren't you two supposed to be taking your O.W.L.s this year?"
"My dear Alicia," George reached forward and stroked her chin, "How can you expect us to focus on O.W.L.s with so many dementors mucking about?"
"That's absolutely true, Miss Spinnet," added Fred, "I believe that Hogwarts will be in extra need of a good laugh this year."
Alicia rolled her eyes at the Gryffindor Beaters, but before she could retort, Albus Dumbledore spoke the magic words, "Let the feast begin!" and the platters and bowls filled to the brim with delicacies of the wizarding world.
All conversation vanished at the appearance of food and Wood's worries about the Quidditch team was sent to the back of his mind. This was his last first meal at Hogwarts, perhaps he should enjoy it.
Fred Weasley was serving himself scoop of mashed potatoes when he heard laughter from a table over. He glanced over at the Slytherins, who were watching the Malfoy boy doing an impression of a terrified Harry Potter. One dark-haired girl seemed more interested in the shepherd's pie than the crudeness. She looked up as if she had felt him watching. Her eyes were a warm but deadly, dark brown, Fred felt something strange release in his chest. This odd staring contest seemed to last forever, he wasn't quite sure when his mouth had opened. He almost wanted to say something, but the moment ended. The girl broke the gaze, tucking her hair behind her ear before looking back to the meal in front of her.
Fred averted his eyes quickly, feeling a blush creep up to his ears. He'd never seen that girl before. Something made him want to look at her again. But no, he shook his head, Slytherin, bad idea. He forced the thought out of his head and turned back to the mashed potatoes waiting in the bowl in front of him.