Mascara runs down my cheeks as I hastily wipe my tears away. When the door opens, I'm sprawled out on the Slytherin girl's dormitories floor. I look up to see who it is, and my eyes meet the ones belonging to Pansy Parkinson. "Eleanor?" She looks at me questionably. I glare at her.
"Get out," I bark.
"What's this about," she asks, raising her eyebrows with an amused expression.
"Pansy! Leave!" I grab a Defense against the Dark Arts textbook and throw it in her direction, but she's already left, the book rebounding off the door.
Some may argue my actions were irrational, but Pansy is the last person I want to see at the moment. You see, she is the spitting image of the stereo-typical Slytherin: a Pure-blood, muggle-hating egocentric maniac. It seems as if all of Hogwarts believes that students baring green and silver are like Pansy or Draco Malfoy, but that's just not true. Take me for example: While I do have a cunning personality and ambitious dreams, I'm not foul and cold-hearted. This whole thing really sets me over the edge. I get up from my spot on the ground and scamper over to the nearest bathroom.
I cry some more as a vigorously scrub off my make-up - I can't believe people can be so prejudice. I walk over to the bathtub and turn the handle, steaming-hot water rushing out of the faucet. Peeling of my uniform, I recall one of the worst parts of my days.
I walk down the corridor towards the library. I keep my head down and walk fast. "Look, guys!" I look up, seeing that a couple of Ravenclaws are smirking, obviously bathing in triumph due to finding new prey. "It's Eleanor."
"Sod off, Reynolds." They just laugh.
"So, tell me Eleanor…how many muggle-borns did'ya Obliviate today?" Reynolds receives high-five from his posse on that note.
"Move away before I Obliviate you." I purse my lips together. He rolls his eyes.
"Try me," he says, lifting his wand lazily, thinking I wouldn't dare to duel with another student.
But I was fed up, so to both Reynolds' and I's surprise, I raise my wand, too. I maneuver it with ease through the air, "Obliviate!" escaping my lips in a sing-songy way. Reynolds' eyes widen as I cast the spell, trying to find the right counter-charm to fight back, but I'm too quick for him. Now, I wasn't quite careful with the spell, not thinking what I wanted him to forget and doing short versioned hand movements, so a number of things could go wrong. Hopefully I didn't cause any damage.
The spell reaches Reynolds, and he looks dazed. I open my mouth, about to ask if he's alright, when I hear someone clear their throat little ways away from me. I turn, seeing a women sporting fluffy pink robes, a pink hat perched on her head, and toad-like features. "Professor Umbridge…" I scramble to find an alibi.
She clucks her tongue, shaking her head in absolute disappointment. "No need for excuses, Miss Fawley. Detention after your classes." She sighs. "Typical Slytherins," she mutters. She grabs Reynolds' arm, leading him to the Hospital Wing.
'Typical Slytherins.'
I submerge myself into the warm water, boiling my skin, but it was satisfying. My eyes still puffy from crying, I rinse my face with the hot water. I had just came back from detention when Pansy found my, most likely looking pathetic. Since I am in my 6th year, I have learned over time that the serpent house is infamous for a reason; dating all the way back it's establishment, Salazar Slytherin intended to only teach Pure-bloods. No muggle-borns, no half-bloods, just Pure-bloods. Although blood may be a deciding factor in the Sorting, it sure isn't the only one: Personality, ideas, opinions. For those of us who don't care whether or not you're Pure-blood or not, it is expected to be automatically assumed that we all discriminate against others different, but it's gotten out of hand; from snarky comments like Reynolds' to professors blaming incidents on our house, the whole thing is just awful. Even though some may be a stereo-typical Slytherin, why should that mean all of us are?
Umbridge's comment about 'typical Slyhterins' really ticked me off. But, she didn't stop there, oh no. Detention was just the same.
I arrive at Umbridge's dungeon a bit late. I look around, anticipating an obnoxiously pink lady to be bombarding me with questions explaining my tardiness. I see no one, and decide to just walk in. I sit at a desk and decide to study some Transfiguration notes I took earlier that day. "You're late." I almost fell out of my chair, the high-pitched voice surprising me. I look to the front of the classroom to the amphibian like women at her desk. "Are you going to use an excuse like you did this morning?" She raises an eyebrow, arms crossed around her chest.
"No ma'am," I mumble.
"Ah, good. I've seen you've grown manners since our encounter this morning. Of course, I'm sure it's the students your forced to be around's fault." She snickers.
"Excuse me, Professor, may I ask whom you're speaking of?" I ask, trying to conceal my annoyance.
"The Slytherins, who else? I feel sorry you were sorted into that house." You know, sometimes I do feel as if I don't belong in Slytherin and feel pity for me as-well, but not for the reasons Umbridge is giving me, it's because of people like her.
"Professor Umbridge, I don't understand." She cocks her head to the side.
"What didn't you understand?"
"Well, how someone can be so prejudice towards another house." That either A, shut her up, or B, made things worse for my case.
Umbridge bites her lip. "Hm, okay. Five more days of detention for sass.
"But, Professor, its true-"
"7 more days."
"Professor I-"
"Fine! A MONTH of detention."
I get quite. A month of detention? I can't believe this. All because I wanted to defend Slytherin students.
The water washes over me as I reflect on my discussion with Umbridge. She's write, some Slyhterins being cold-hearted, but I don't think she gets it.
I don't think anyone gets it.
We aren't the same people. While green-cloaked students are dark and unsympathetic, others are kind and determined. I can't process the reason other students think it's okay to think 'being evil' is naturally installed in us. We are all different.
Being a Slytherin has its ups and downs, people being rude because of one simple thing. But I do have to say one thing:
I am proud to be a Slytherin.
xx
Hello! So I'm actually a Ravenclaw, but I felt the need to show the idea that not all Slytherins are "power-hungry" or "evil." This might turn into a four story series about each of the houses, but for now I'm pretty happy with this. Happy reading!
-Addie
