*Peeks at previous update date* Eek!
Oops. Just lost my taste for story writing for a while. I kept not liking how it turned out so I decided to ignore it for a while and come back to it. I ended up leaving it for longer than intended.
My apologies to anyone who may have been waiting for this. I can't tell if you don't review. :'( (hint hint)
Anyway I'm back now and should have other updates in the not too distant future.
Term had begun smoothly as far as classes were concerned. Sylvia had quickly settled into the routine, although the teachers had been concerned at first that she wouldn't be up to the rest of the year's standard. Much as she hated to praise anyone in her family, Sylvia had to admit her mother had been a good teacher. Although she was sure that half of the spells her mother deemed essential would never be taught at Hogwarts. The class that had been most eventful had to be Defense against the Dark Arts. With Lockhart as the teacher none of her house seemed to be expecting much, but on being presented with a quiz that seemed to be nothing but an ego boost, the entire class just lost any hope they had. The time dragged as they waited for Lockhart to gather in the papers. Sylvia tapped her pencil on the desk, she had scribbled down a few answers for the sake of appearances but really couldn't care less. Instead she began to look around the room. Most of the Slytherins were in a state of stupor but the more active students could be spotted discretely flicking their wands at neighbour's papers, presumably passing notes. Following the path of the messages it didn't take long for Sylvia to notice that Malfoy seemed to be at the centre of the web. Lockhart began to sift through the papers.
"Dear me, it seems that you haven't picked up much at all. I would at least expect you all to have remembered the basics but… dear, dear, dear." He continued to mutter away to himself as he leafed through the remaining answers. Before he could get into a full flow however one of the boys raised his hand.
"Yes Mr…?
"Zabini, Professor. I was just wondering about something I read in one of your books."
Lockhart looked rather pleased with himself and smoothed down the front of his lurid robes. "Ask away dear boy."
"Well in Wanderings with Werewolves you talk about saving a village forever from werewolf attacks by curing the man. I was just curious why there are still werewolves around if it can be cured?" Sylvia considered the boy, Blaize Zabini if she remembered correctly; he had an expression that was the picture of innocence that just didn't sit right of a Slytherin's face.
"Ah well that's easily explained," blustered Lockhart, wiping his suddenly sweaty palms on his robes, "However the level of understanding required is beyond second year syllabus. Now returning to the test..."
"Sir." Another boy had raised his hand.
"Ah, yes?" Lockhart said, still a little off stride.
"I was curious as to who you learnt so much from. My mum went to school with you and she said that you failed your O. "
"Yes well, I flourished best when left to my own devices. Plenty of famous witches and wizards do better after school. So if everyone is quite satisfied…"
But another three hands flew into the air.
It was late in the evening and Sylvia was nestled in an armchair by the fire, working her way through the homework they had been given. Michelle and a few of the other girls they had made friends with were gathered nearby in companionable silence. Daphne Greengrass had been amongst the group that had run into Malfoy after the welcoming feast but she was still comfortable around Sylvia. She was a second year too, the eldest daughter of a pureblood family but had confided that her younger sister Astoria was the family favourite. It didn't seem to bother her but Sylvia had already learnt that what a Slytherin showed on the surface was never the whole story. Melody Forwin had also joined the group, although she had only turned up after she had been called out by some of the older students on being a half-blood raised only by her muggle father. It had somehow already spread round the entire house that Sylvia had defied Malfoy and it had certainly made things more interesting. Things had not been going as she expected though. Sylvia sighed and closed the textbook that she had been reading, her thoughts were no longer on her work. After standing up to Malfoy, even in such a small way, Sylvia had expected to become a constant target but instead any moves against her seemed to be passive and indirect. A good number of Slytherin house seemed to be avoiding what was no doubt an impending battle between the two altogether and were waiting to see who would win before choosing a side. But such was the nature of Slytherin house, Sylvia couldn't help but smile as she remembered the red and sweaty face of Lockhart as he rushed the class out following almost half an hour of unanswerable questions. It had clearly been Malfoy that had orchestrated the event not just from seeing him put the plan in place but from the radiating smugness afterwards. Despite her distaste for Malfoy himself Sylvia caught herself appreciating the subtle attacks that her house seemed to have such a talent for. It couldn't be more different from the open hostility she had seen between the Gryffindors and Snape during potions. Packing away her things Sylvia nodded at the other girls before heading off to bed. The group smiled back at her before returning to their parchment. As Sylvia slipped into her four-poster bed with its emerald green hangings she realised that she no longer resented the house she had been placed in, as Michelle had said reputations hadn't been made from nothing but all the same, friends could be found anywhere.
The weeks passed without great event. Classes were interesting but not overly taxing and Sylvia had easily slipped into life at Hogwarts. Despite the tension that still ran through the house the Slytherins were content to let it be. So long as nothing sparked a blaze Sylvia was sure the embers of the feud between her and Malfoy would lie still. On a Saturday morning Sylvia made her way down to the common room early in the morning, she liked to get up early and enjoy the quiet. This weekend however Sylvia encountered six figures in green robes clutching black handled brooms, five of the figures were well-built and bulky older boys. The sixth was Malfoy. Not wanting to be caught turning back Sylvia continued down the last few steps from the dorms and nodded to the group as she went past. Before she could take her accustomed place by the fire Marcus Flint, also dressed in green, pushed in through the entry wall.
"Right, I've got the note let's get going." Glancing around he caught Sylvia's interested look before she could school her face into indifference. He sneered at her, being one of the house firmly behind family supremacy. "Getting a good look at what family can really do are you, Blackhart?" The brief look of confusion on her face was clearly all the invitation Malfoy needed.
"My father bought new brooms for the entire Quidditch team. It's not easy to get hold of seven brand new Nimbus 2001s at short notice but when you have connections, well it's no trouble at all." A smile had slowly spread across Malfoys mouth as he was speaking. Without leaving time for a retort Malfoy swept past the rest of the team and made his way out of the common room. The others filtered out after him. Sylvia was powerfully curious about Quidditch since she had never actually seen it played. Her grandmother thought it a trivial sport. The last boy to leave, a fourth year Chaser held back before leaving.
"Do you want to come and watch?" He asked, smiling at her. "No one will mind having someone to show off the new brooms to, and you might just get to see Malfoy fall off." Flashing another grin he disappeared through the enchanted wall to catch up with the rest of the team. With even only the mental image of Malfoy embarrassing himself in the air giving her cheer Sylvia grabbed her cloak and hurried after the boy.
As the chaser had said there was no objection to Sylvia accompanying them down to the pitch. As they arrived the team went into the changing rooms towards the pitch entrance and she made her way into the stands. The first sight that Sylvia saw was twice as many people as she had expected standing on the grass, and half of them were in red. As a few Gryffindor spectators dashed towards the teams Sylvia scurried down as well, partly out of concern but mostly out of curiosity. She arrived just in time to hear Potter's busy-haired friend yell at Malfoy, "Well at least no-one on the Gryffindor team had to buy their way in, they got in on pure talent." The self-satisfied smirk on Malfoy's face turned instantly into a fowl glare.
"No-one asked your opinion you filthy little Mud-Blood." Before any of the Slytherin's could react the red-head had pulled his wand and blasted a curse at the new seeker. With a great flash of silver light the boy was thrown backwards onto the turf. Recovering from his shock at the attempt Malfoy began laughing raucously, Flint was thumping the ground with his fist and all of the other team members were in various states of mirth. Potter and the girl dragged their friend away as he began throwing up slugs, ignoring the amused Slytherins. The Gryffindors gathered up their brooms and left the pitch. Stifling the remaining chuckles Flint also picked up his broom, ordering the rest of the team into the air. The fourth year looked over at Sylvia, still standing shocked at the back of the group.
"So you ready to see some proper flying?" His cheerfulness from before had become cockiness. Sylvia frowned slightly as she answered.
"Some other time, I seem to have lost my taste for it just now." Dismissing her coldness the Chaser shrugged and kicked off into the sky. Turning her back on the site of the unpleasant scene Sylvia slowly made her way up to the castle, trying to ignore her jubilant housemate's crows of delight at how their morning had gone.
That night Sylvia tossed around in her bed. She kept mulling over what she and her friends had discussed during the evening. Daphne had cleared up the confusion over the motives of the fourth year Chaser.
"He's no more likely to side with you than Crabbe and Goyle are but he dosen't like Malfoy."
"He was friends with last year's seeker, who would have had it again this year if Malfoy hadn't promised the new brooms." Explained Melody, who it turned out followed Quidditch religiously. "Malfoy was determined to be seeker, he went to the tryouts to try and get in properly but lost out. He can't stand to be second best to anyone, especially not Potter."
"What's Potter got to do with it?" Asked Sylvia.
"Don't you know? He's been the Gryffindor Seeker since last year, he had to get special permission as a first year. Malfoy's been bitter ever since." Melody was grinning slightly now. "Mind you it was thanks to Malfoy that Potter got on the team in the first place. He stole something from Longbottom and flew off with it during a flying lesson. Potter chased after him and snatched it out of the air. It was fantastic. Anyway Potter got caught, though Malfoy didn't, and instead of getting punished he got appointed Seeker."
"Because he's famous?" Sylvia was beginning to wonder if there was something to Malfoys complaints of special treatment.
"Oh no." Melody amended. "The team were desperate, they had no one else, but since Potter joined the team he has never lost a match. He holds the school record for the youngest Seeker and he's well on the way to getting most consecutive played wins as well." Her voice had taken on a slightly more reciting tone, as though quoting from a book. It wouldn't have surprised Sylvia if she was. So it turned out Malfoy's bid to get on the team was just another way of trying to prove he was superior, and he would do so buy any means available.
Turning over Sylvia tried to put it out of her mind. Malfoy wasn't worth the trouble, so why couldn't she let it go. She turned onto her back, staring up at the emerald canopy of her bed. Closing her eyes she let her thoughts float at random, angry thoughts about many of her housemates flitting across every now and then. Just as she began to slip into sleep words drifted past her.
"Rip, kill, tear!"
Starting upright Sylvia glanced around. For a second she had thought she heard a voice. Peering out of the curtains around her bed she glanced around the dorm. Nothing moved. All that could be heard was the deep breathing of the other girls sleeping. Shaking her head Sylvia cursed her overactive, and apparently vicious, imagination. Lying down again she finally succumbed to her dreams.
Whew, what a long chapter. Well at least some interesting things can start happening now. With any luck with the plot speeding up the chapters will come more easily and I can update more regularly.
As always any opinions are welcome. :)
