Chapter 3: Roll a dice and have that many flashbacks and strange revelations in an arbitrary order while the plot halts completely!
I, Electra Kunigunde Potter-Weasley-Slytherin, am angry. Extremely angry.
That is in no way related to the Serpentyle Council giving me the annoying task of uncovering the truth about recent developments at Hogwarts. I'm serious! It's also not because twenty-two people have already confessed their undying love to me this morning. I've turned them all down, of course. My anger is more of a...perpetual kind. It's like the ever-glimmering amber that lies in wait to burn your hands. That's me - hisss!
Currently, I'm angry about my sorting. I'm perfectly happy in Slytherin, of course, no there's something else in that particular memory that shakes my decidedly rare peace of mind. I just can't help remembering that day because there, not far away from me, sits the very reason I'm so angry.
Xxx epic flashback! xxX
I was quite happy that day – only mildly angry. Both wands packed (you don't expect me to transfigure matches with my enhanced Elder Wand, do you?), I was so looking forward to Hogwarts. Daddy had told me a lot of stories – like how you can bully whoever you want and spread nasty lies all over the castle, or even hex people in the corridors without any serious threat of repercussions; how fun!
But there was one downside, and it walked right in front of me; my detestable half-twin; Harrey Weasley. I don't blame Daddy at all. He was, of course, at some point engaged to Ginny Weasley, so I guess I can see how they could have a child. My only problem is that he's the focus of everyone's attention, even though Daddy doesn't even talk to the Weasleys anymore, especially since he saw the light and embraced the dark truths of Magical Britain (i.e. he started killing the wankers who deserved it). But nowadays, he's being treated as some sort of Dark Lord or something – ridiculous! He's just doing what's right, can't they see that? Sometimes, you just have to do what's necessary, even against the will of society. Also, since he's now killed three different Ministers of Magic, I think it's fairly obvious that he's the most suitable to rule Britain, isn't it? It would all be so much better if they'd just cease their silly little resistance.
Anyway, it appears they didn't really expect me to just turn up at Hogwarts, and there's a lot of talking going on. Look, Daddy: I just started and I'm already infamous!
Still, Dumbledore is giving me those strange looks now and then. I'm, of course, a thirteenth-grade Occlumens so his pathetic attempts to read my mind don't bother me, but I play along anyway. I know my manners, after all.
Anyway, I digress. (Daddy said that's the mark of a bubbling mind and in no way related to my lack of discipline or my so-called 'anger-issues'. I like how he takes the time to explain everything! He's the best!)
So Harrey gets sorted, right? There's a lot of "Ahs" and "Ohs" and loads of clapping and whooping when he's finally pronounced a Gryffindor – big deal! Apparently, there's this big prophecy about a child of Daddy that's promised to bring balance to magic. Dumbledore is convinced that means Harrey even though there is no conclusive proof except that ugly scar he has. Big deal! I have a scar, too (albeit a beautiful one)!
Anyway, I digress. So I walk up to the Sorting Hat and put it on my beautiful hair.
"Oho!" the Sorting Hat says.
"You stink!" I reply eloquently.
"Patience, my child," it says.
At this point, I can barely believe it; I'm being talked down to by a hat. My life is at a new low point. I'm so stupefied that I can't even come up with anything to say, so Hat just continues.
"What a fascinating mind you have. And your heritage – oh my! You'd be the best of Slytherin, Gryffindor and Ravenclaw ever! Now where to put you..."
"Not Hufflepuff...not Hufflepuff...not Hufflepuff!"
"Merlin, you might just overshadow Shalazar and Rowennah both," Hat says in awe.
I like his sweet-talk, so I decide there and then to forgive him his earlier transgressions.
"And – what is that?" It asks, rhetorically. "Oh, my. The rarest of all gifts – Parceltongue!"
"Of course!" I say proudly but humbly.
At this point, the walls of the castle shiver, and the castle itself seems to yell with a booming voice, "SLYTHERIN!"
They're all looking at me. How is it my fault that all the ghosts suddenly start leaking the ghostly equivalent of blood or that the candles suddenly burn with an eerie green light?!
I wish it were my fault, though, because it looks totally awesome.
Xx !End Epic Flashback! xX
Anyway, what was I talking about again? So, yeah; Harrey totally ruined everything for me. I guess they expected me to be some kind of heroin or something. I once asked what a heroin was, but Daddy said it's some alchemical compound for people who don't believe in reality. I don't want to not believe in reality!
Anyway (by the way, Daddy says my lack of attention is due to my bubbling mind and in no way related to my lack of discipline! Isn't he nice?!), I'm currently sitting in Potions.
"...bottle fame, even put a stopper to death," gushes Professor Snape. He was believed to be dead until recently, but Daddy managed to revive him for good. Why did he do so, you might ask. Well, Dumbledore was believed to be dead, too, but-apparently-that was all a ruse to get my Daddy to sacrifice himself for the Greater Good or something. So Daddy repaid him by resurrecting all the baddies. Heh, serves him right. When I'm all grown up (and even more beautiful), I want to be a necromancer, too!
"But I hear we have a new celebrity: Harrey Potter." Snape sneers scornfully at Harrey. I like him already! "Potter," he barks. "What would I get if I sprinkled a dash of fossilised Moonlice over a burning infusion of Jellytar and Dragonpus, stirred it thirty-two times clockwise and then lowered the temperature by two degrees before casting it into an urn of Goblin Gold?"
"That's an easy one," I think.
"That's an easy one, I think," he says, meaning Harrey. "The, er, Potion of...Potioneering," he says lamely.
"Typical Potter," sneers Professor Snape.
"But I'm a Weasley!" Harrey dares to protest.
"Arrogant like your fath-"
It is at this point that my silent Killing Curse hits him dead on. I don't take that kind of insult towards my father! If Daddy wants him alive again, he'll just have to resurrect him again.
"I think we need a new Potions Master," says Hermion drily, kicking the unmoving body a bit.