Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling. I make no claims to ownership.
Slytherin had gained only seven students with the latest batch of first-years. Those seven students were now lined up in front of Daphne and Theo, looking up at them with frightened eyes. Behind the first-years were the older students, all of them with wan and drawn expressions. Everyone in the room knew what it meant to be in Slytherin in this new era.
Daphne cleared her throat to get their attention.
"Welcome to Slytherin," she began in her most beguiling tone. There was a reason she had been selected as Prefect over Pansy. "I wish to congratulate you on making into the best House in Hogwarts."
She paused as Tracey let out a whoop from the back of the crowd.
"You are the first of a new generation, which means you have the chance to choose the direction this House takes. I know that seems scary, but we, each of us…"
She swept her gaze over the older students, several of whom stood straighter at her pointed look. Draco Malfoy just stared back at her sullenly. He hadn't liked that Theo was chosen to replace him as Prefect.
"…are here to help you on that path," she continued. "I know you want to stick with the people you know, but I encourage you to branch out. Get to know people from other Houses. That is the only way we can change our image."
After the speech was completed and the first-years were guided away, Draco came up to her only to have Theo step in between them. Draco stopped, looking stricken. In Daphne's opinion, he shouldn't be so shocked that Theo was on her side. He and Theo might have grown up together, but in the years since they'd come to Hogwarts, they'd hardly even spoken to each other.
"It's okay, Theo," said Daphne. "I'm not wasting my time on him."
Then she spun on her heel, letting her robes whirl around her in a grand display of haughtiness, and disappeared down the hallway to the girls' dorms.
Her room was strangely empty, which meant Tracey must be with Blaise. Neither Pansy nor Millicent had chosen to retake their seventh year; in Pansy's opinion, at least, they had learned everything they needed under the Carrows' reign. Daphne didn't know Millicent's reason for not returning, but they'd only gotten along out of necessity, so she wasn't sad to see her other roommate missing.
With a sigh, Daphne sat on her bed. Then she flopped onto her back, a graceless move which would have drawn a lecture about decorum from her mother. She stared up at the canopy above her, absorbed in her own thoughts.
She'd have to do something about Theo. After his father's imprisonment, their relationship had fizzled out, but he clearly still had feelings for her. There was also the matter of their engagement. Although she'd considered calling it off by letter, she had decided that would be unfair to Theo, and she should do it in person.
"Stupid Hufflepuff," Daphne said aloud.
As a Slytherin, she shouldn't care about fairness. From what Snape had taught them, she should only care about her own feelings. Unfortunately Daphne had been raised by Damon Greengrass, who might as well have been a Hufflepuff himself.
Her vision blurred with tears. A year had passed since her father had died, and yet the mere thought of him could make her cry. She scrubbed at her eyes, wishing the ache in her chest would disappear. Unfortunately, the pain of loss never just disappeared on its own.
When Ginny was a child, her parents had taken her to meet her mother's cousin, Alphonse Prewett. His daughter, Mafalda, was only two years younger than Ginny. Although her father was a Squib, Mafalda had proven to be adapt at magic. With no idea how to handle her abilities, Alphonse had reached out to Ginny's parents for help. Ginny had been banished outside with Mafalda while the adults discussed the issue.
After putting up with Mafalda's pretentious attitude, Ginny informed her parents that she didn't want to see her cousin ever again. If Mafalda really did end up attending Hogwarts, Ginny would stay far away from her. What Ginny had never predicted was that she would date a Slytherin, and visiting her boyfriend at the dorms would result in encounters with Mafalda.
"You broke up with Harry Potter? To date that idiot?" Mafalda's heavy-lidded eyes swept over Ginny as she sneered. "Talk about a downgrade."
"I don't want your opinion," Ginny snapped, bristling with irritation. It had been a long day and all she wanted to do was snog her boyfriend. "Will you let me in or not?"
Mafalda tapped one finger against her chin, pretending to think.
"Hmm, I don't think I will. Have a good day, dearest cousin."
Then, with a very sharp smile, she closed the door in Ginny's face.
"Oi!" Ginny slammed her fist against the door. "Let me in!"
"That won't work," said a voice from behind her. "Even if you get inside, they'll throw you back out."
Swinging around, Ginny started a retort only to have it die in her throat. Here was another relation she generally avoided. However, unlike Mafalda, Elias Prewett was in the same year as Ginny. Usually he stayed distant from her, but occasionally there would be incidences like this, where he would try to strike up a conversation with her.
He raised one eyebrow. "Not so quick-witted today, are we?"
Heat flushed through her body and her jaw clenched.
"D'you think I'm an idiot?" she demanded.
His other brow rose. "Does my opinion matter?" he asked, tilting his head and surveying her with light, almost pale blue eyes. They were his only distinguishing feature as a Prewett; his hair was a rich, dark brown color with not even a hint of red. "Or are you seeking some kind of validation, and I should say, 'No, of course not, I think you're the most brilliant person I've ever met'?"
"The latter would be nice," Ginny said sarcastically.
A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth, his eyes glinting with humor, and her stomach clenched as she realized he resembled Fred and George. She didn't know if the twist of his mouth came from the Prewett or the Black side, as they both shared relations to the families, but she could definitely see her brothers' traits in Elias.
George's traits, she reminded herself. Fred is dead now, and you will never, ever see him again.
That thought caused her stomach to twist even more. Crying was a sign of weakness, one she wouldn't show in front of anyone else, but at this moment she wanted nothing more than to release her grief. A headache was coming on and she was no longer interested in burying her feelings inside Draco.
"Hey, are you okay?" Elias had stepped forward, his hand outstretched and hovering in between them.
She forced a smile. "Yeah, I'm fine. I'll just be going now."
He moved aside to let her pass by him, but when he called out her name, Ginny glanced back at him.
"I don't know if this'll help you in any way," he said, "but I think you're doing the right thing."
Ginny didn't bother to contain her snort.
"You don't even know what that 'thing' is, do you?"
"No," he admitted with a shrug, "but it helps, doesn't it?"
This time, her smile was a touch more genuine.
"It does. Thanks… Prewett."
Once more, his eyes shown with humor as he replied, "Anytime, Weasley."
All her life, Ginny had been taught that the Black family was inherently evil. As she headed back to Gryffindor tower, she wondered if her mother was wrong about them. They might not be the best of influences, but other than Bellatrix, they seemed to be decent people.
By the time Ron had started brushing his teeth, Dean, Seamus, and Neville were already out the door, leaving on quick, light feet. All three of them had been up at the crack of dawn, and both Neville and Seamus had moved so efficiently that Ron wondered if they were in a military camp. He tilted his head, trying to hear if they'd reached the bottom of the staircase, but everything was silent.
Harry yawned as he lumbered into the bathroom.
"Is it just me," he said, hand groping for the tube of toothpaste Ron had left on the counter, "or is there something off about this place?"
"It's too quiet," Ron realized aloud, Harry's words finally making it click. "As if everyone's too scared to speak."
Harry's head turned toward him, his eyes squinting sightlessly. Ron nudged the tube into his hand and Harry murmured 'thanks' before he responded.
"Snape really screwed them over, didn't he?" he said, venom heavy in his tone as he squeezed the toothpaste far too hard.
Ron shrugged uncomfortably. "If they aren't speaking, then they can't get in trouble," he reasoned.
"We're Gryffindors, Ron. We don't need words to get in trouble."
Since that was true, he only shrugged again in response.
They finished getting dressed just in time for Hermione to arrive. He immediately took her hand into his own and they followed Harry down to the Great Hall, where Neville waved them over to the end of the Gryffindor table. Ron could feel several people watching them as they sat down. At one time, he would have reveled in the attention, but now it made him distinctly uncomfortable. Hermione huddled closer to him and he put an arm around her shoulders.
"Should've become an Auror," he muttered to her. "Then I wouldn't have to deal with this shit."
Her hand tightened on his leg. "And I'd be alone," she said softly, a distinct note of vulnerability in her voice.
He glanced down the table toward his sister. Ginny looked self-assured as ever, even though her group of friends was significantly smaller compared to when she was dating Harry. Quite a few people still looked at her with adoration, though, especially the boys. If Hermione tried to sit with them, she'd only be shunted to the side or mocked for her beliefs.
"I'm not going anywhere," he promised Hermione, and she gave him one of her small, meek smiles.
The new Dark Arts professor, Tox, came by with their timetables. Ron glanced over his own gloomily. For the first time, he regretted not taking the harder classes with Hermione.
"Ready to go?" asked Harry, shoving his own schedule into his bag.
Ron had never seen his best friend look so eager for Potions class.
"You know we still have Slughorn," he pointed out.
Harry grimaced at the reminder.
"Yeah, but I want to ask him questions about my mum," he explained. "Apparently she was one of his best students."
"I bet your dad was, too," said Hermione. "His father was a Master Brewer, so I wouldn't doubt Slughorn tried to recruit him for the club."
"He was?" Harry asked incredulously.
As Ron looked around at her in surprise, too, he noticed Harry's true reason for wanting to leave so quickly. Draco was now sitting next to Ginny, and although she had brightened at his presence, the people around them were giving the couple a wide berth.
"Slughorn will know more," he said, standing from the table. "Let's go ask him."
On their way to the dungeons, Hermione explained how she had noticed the name 'Fleamont Potter' on a bottle of Sleekeazy's Hair Potion. Ron watched her as she spoke incessantly about her research. By investigating Harry's own past, they could help distract him from his lost future with Ginny. Hopefully another project would help Hermione recover from her own depression, too.
"It confused me for a while," Hermione admitted. "Sometimes he was called Fleamont, sometimes he was called Charlus. Then I found his birth certificate – they have a record of all pureblood families, did you know that? – and his full name was Charlus Fleamont Potter."
"Oh, thank God," said Harry. "I've heard some pretty bad names before, but Flea Mountain?"
Hermione giggled. "It really is awful, isn't it?"
"That's a lesson to be learned," said Ron. "Weird names should be reserved for the middle slot, and you don't ever call the kid by their middle name."
With his girlfriend and best friend around, he immediately regretted opening his mouth.
"Why ever not, Bilius?" Harry teased.
"I'm going to name my son Snowflake," Hermione said decisively.
"Piss off, both of you," Ron said just as they reached the Potions classroom.
Proving that Ron had the worst luck in the world, Slughorn opened the door and said, "That'll be five points, Sweeney."
"Snowflake Sweeney," Harry mused. "I love the alliteration."
Ron felt his skin flush at the implication. If Harry weren't his best friend, Slughorn might have been dealing with another attempted murder. As it was, he could only glare at his friend as they entered the classroom.
Oblivious to the threat upon his life, Harry turned to Slughorn, a look of eagerness upon his face. Hermione stepped back from him as if to give him room to act.
Slughorn looked between Harry and Hermione, a gleam in his eye.
"Oh, I know what this is about," he said. "Just like your father, aren't you? You fell for the Muggleborn of all people!"
Harry's expression of eagerness immediately transformed to horror.
"We – no – she's like my sister –"
"Hermione and I are dating," Ron said loudly.
Slughorn's eyes widened momentarily before he schooled his expression.
"Is that so? Well then, Harry, are you dating anyone right now? Because I know a young woman, I think you'd get along splendidly –"
"No thank you, sir," Harry said quickly. "I, er, just wanted to ask you about my parents. I don't really know much about them at all, and since you were their teacher I was hoping you could tell me more."
"Why didn't you just say so, m'boy? I know plenty!"
Slughorn ushered Harry and Hermione into seats at the front of the classroom. His chest tight with an emotion he preferred not to acknowledge, Ron followed them and joined them in watching Slughorn's eager storytelling. From Harry's avid expression, Ron knew they had made the right decision. Although Slughorn's stories were clearly embellished, they were successfully distracting Harry from his own thoughts.
Ron had never felt such hatred for his own sister until now.