Beta: lil'hawkeye3, thanks again
'parseltongue'
October.
Anastasia had never liked October very much – although the fallen leaves covering the ground and the fiery-red maple trees were a beautiful sight, something bad always seemed to happen on the month. That year, the tenth month had started very well.
The first day was a Saturday, and because of that several extra-curricular groups had gathered around the Quad. The three females of the Slytherin first-year dormitory walked side by side, escorted by the heirs of Malfoy, Black and Lestrange, and the Riddle genius as well. Their ensemble was similar to any Slytherin covey – well-groomed, snobbish and good-behaved.
Anya watched fascinated as the upperclassmen made a show of themselves and exposed their clubs in booths, her arms linked with Dorea's and Brianna's, her Arawn guarding her back. Suddenly, a girl with olive skin and brunette hair approached them, guiding a ginger freckled girl through the crowd. "Oi, Nastya! This is Maeve Kearney, my housemate."
"Laws, wasn't she the one who had stolen your charms books a week ago?" Anya raised one eyebrow. Eoessa had been rambling how that Irish-bitch had been pestering her since the day they had arrived because she was supposedly an idiot. Anya could have told the redhead that although Laws wasn't exactly a Ravenclaw bookworm, she was very witty, creative and unique – and that being a raven wasn't just about being intelligent or wise, after all nobody could expect an eleven years old to be wise.
"Oh, that was a misunderstanding of both of us." Laws explained. "We are good now, aren't we?"
"I'm sorry for that, I don't have a lot of experience in socializing, I didn't know I was being rude." The girl blushed cutely, and Anya noticed that she had her arms around a large tome – yes, she fitted the exact image of a Ravenclaw, she supposed.
"Don't worry, what belongs to past has already passed." Anya assured her. "I'm Nastya, these are Dorea Black, Brianna Gagwilde, Tom Riddle, Ragnar Lestrange, Abraxas Malfoy and Orion Black. I suppose you know Essy Laws Cadogan, don't you?"
"My name isn't that if you wanna know, Maeve." They all laughed good-naturally at Laws's expression. Anya was the first one to notice when the other ravenclaw flushed again for laughing out loud, and the black-haired witch offered her an assuring smile, leading the other to smile as well. "So, sweet, rosy Ms. Kearney, let me continue the presentations. This is Nastya, our lady; Dora is our ambitious mother; Brianna is the girly one. I'm the charming gentleman, Abraxas; Ragnar here is your moron, an expression you will notice that comes from the Greek for foolish, yet you can also address him as the dimwit, a slang I'm sure means of diminutive wit…"
"I protest! I'm the witty gentleman; you are knight in shining armour that seems to have developed a bookworm side in the last minutes." The Lestrange scion interrupted his friend's rambling. "Riddle is the enchanted genius, Orion is the kid. Cadogan is the tomboy, are you the scholar girl our group was lacking?"
"I thought you were that one." Dorea whispered to Anya, giggling.
Anya smirked, feeling Tom's eyes watching her carefully. "Careful, Arawn, you might burn holes in my skull." She mumbled to him.
"Everything has beauty, just not everyone sees it. I'm just watching one that is very obvious…And that, dear Abraxas, is how you compliment a woman." He said out loud, and she snorted, mouthing "Confucius" to him as their group snickered.
"Oi, why don't you join the Astronomy Club? We have meetings every Saturday night at the Astronomy Tower!" A ravenclaw blonde girl offered them. "I'm Jillian Stornried, the president of the club. You are a Black, aren't you? Madam Black is our instructor."
Dorea glanced at the booth of the club, eyeing tastefully at the three-dimensional graphic of the constellation of Virgo and at the enchanted model of the Solar System. "Well, that's interesting, I suppose. Maybe later? I want to take a look at the others first."
"Are all Blacks interested by the Outer Space or just the majority?"
"It's kind of a fascination ingrained in us since our birth." Orion admitted. "Beaster, our eldest house-elf, has been teaching me about it since before I could speak."
"Do you want to join the Rat Race Club? We have meeting every Friday evening!" A Hufflepuff third year boy asked them in an over-excited tone that made Anya suspect there were few applications that year. "My name is Jeremy Graingrew, the president."
"Hum...No, thanks." Laws refused, as uncomfortable as the rest of the girls – trying hard to muffle her giggles at the way the boy seemed to spit on everyone as he talked. They all walked away from there quickly before exploding in laughter.
"Seriously...who spends his Friday's nights watching rodents race?" Tom questioned.
"What a loser." Brianna agreed. Tom glanced at Anya, a bit surprised by the way her fellow roommate seemed eager to agree with him. She rolled her eyes discreetly and offered a lacy handkerchief to a breathless and saliva-wet Maeve.
"Hello, would you like to join the Charms Club? I'm Lawrence Diggory, and I will be your instructor if you join us." A fifth-year boy with chiselled features and grey eyes told them. "Laws, Effie was looking for you!"
Anya supposed it was a bit weird to be in a conversation with two people called Law; one could think they would be lawyers in the future.
"Yes, pretty-boy Lawrie. Tell your girlfriend that I refuse to join her club, will you? My sister doesn't need to send her handsome lover-boy to convince me, because I won't. And neither of them will." She told him, challenging the Gryffindor to go against her.
"You don't like the heir of the Diggory's?" Dorea asked as the Ravenclaw dragged them away.
The short-haired girl nodded in affirmation. "No, he is just too much of the perfect boy."
"You liked him, didn't you?" Tom inquired, making the witch gag and redden.
"No way!"
"In fact, she is just jealous of him, because he stole her sister. Frankly, Arawn, you are losing your nerve." Anya chimed in, enhancing Laws's blush further. "You can't deny me, sweetie."
They approached a booth in which ten toads had been jinxed to sing, and a girl with fluffy and long pigtails approached them. "Hi, my name is Cordelia Pettihart, I became a member of the Frog Choir last year, and I had a lot of fun in my first year; do you wish to join us? This will be the sixth year since our creation!"
Maeve smiled to the girl, looking unsure she accepted the brochure the girl had offered them. "You like to sing, that's great!" The Cordelia girl, which Anya assumed to be a Hufflepuff – although she couldn't be sure as none of them wore uniforms – smiled.
As they walked through the booth, many club members offered a place for them in their respective clubs. The leader of the Wizard Card Collectors' Club caught Orion's attention, to Dorea's dismay – as she had decided to join the Astronomy Club after all. They casually ignored the president of the Knitting Club, as they could really figure out how someone made a club of that in the middle of a school; and the Gobstones Club, who was led by fanatic by the game.
Abraxas was a bit tempted to enter in the Maenad Club, a club of oenology. When Tom asked him why he would be interested so much in wines, Abraxas explained to them that the Malfoys had several vineyards in France, and produced a wine called Superior Red. They found Flavius Rosier in front of the Magical Creatures Club's booth, together with Archibald Mulciber
"Riddle! Flavius was telling me he wishes to become a magizoologist, do you know what do you want to be in the future?" Mulciber spoke excitedly, in the flatterer way he always used around their group.
"I prefer to not close doors for me before I analyse all my options. But I have to congratulate you, Rosier, your resolution is noteworthy." Rosier accepted the compliment with a graceful nod, a quiet guy, that one.
"So, Flavius. Have you already decided your area of specialization or you are still considering? I know of some – dragonology, cryptology, magiornithology, unicornology, trollology, beastology, hippology or magical naturalist?" Anya asked, recalling the branches of magizoology from a book.
"I'm quite attracted to the work of Quong Po, but I also like Stoddard Withers." He reddened when he saw the oblivious expressions of his fellow year-mates. "Sorry, Quong Po is a dragonologist, and Stoddard Withers is a hippologist."
"One would think that you enjoy flying, Rosier, but nobody flies in a dragon, I guess." Ragnar laughed. "Speaking of flying, who is excited to Thursday? I know Orion is practically jumping in his feet to get in the air."
"Yes, thank you for reminding me of this, Lestrange." Brianna spoke coldly.
"Don't you enjoy flying?" Mulciber asked.
"Of course she doesn't, Mulciber. It's unladylike." Abraxas chimed "You will only see women flying in teams of lowly Gryffindorks or things like that."
"Oi! My sister is a Gryffindor!" Laws stated in outrage. "See what I was talking about? Unladylike." The blond wizard claimed with reprobation.
"You don't even know my sister, Malfoy!" The incredulity in Laws's voice was very obvious to everyone who actually payed attention, but apparently, the heir of Malfoy's wasn't.
"Well, she has a boy as a sister that I assure you."
"Better a tomboy than a stuck-up arse… Come with me Maeve. Nastya, meet with me only when you don't find yourself in the presence of such a bigoted wimp, ok?" And then both Ravenclaws of their group vanished in the crowd.
Ragnar whistled. "I think Abraxas will need more classes on how to deal with woman, Riddle."
"I don't understand, I wasn't lying or something like that. Why that loud vulgar girl reacted like that?"
"Not everyone is ready to accept truth, Abraxas." Tom explained. "It's outrageous that the Gryffindors accept females in their teams, which doesn't mean that Cadogan won't feel the need to defend her family's honour."
"But her sister is in the Charms Club!"
"Actually, we are accepting now females too." Alexander Blishwick, the sixth-year captain of the team informed them. "So if one of you ladies wants to try, feel free to do so – as long as you are better than all boys."
"You know that the only girls that would consider such proposition, are filthy mudbloods or blood-traitors, don't you?" Antonin Dolohov had just reached their group accompanied by Andros Avery and Caelum Nott. "And the house of Slytherin doesn't produce such lowlife."
"Well, Dippet obliged us to accept. Which actually means that Dumbledore obliged us to accept girls – but you already knew that."
"No surprise there," snickered Tom.
[][][]
Rolanda Hooch was a woman in her late-thirties with a pointy nose, yellow eyes and pixie brunet hair – she seemed the stricter and younger version of Madam Merrythought, both of them sharing the same liveliness. They were gathered in the Training Grounds for the first class all houses shared together.
Anya laughed as she felt her feet leaving the ground, remembering the exhilaration of flying – of course, she had never tried to fly with a broom, but the fact was that she had missed the ability of flying that September as Tom and her had decided it was too dangerous to fly without brooms in the school when nobody else seemed to be able to do it. The broom was a bit of hindrance to the sensation she was crestfallen to find, yet it wasn't that bad – the feeling of freedom was almost the same, and it was easier to control. Not that she had difficulties in controlling her flight without a wand now, but she had had them some day.
She checked out Tom for a moment and, as expected, he had no difficulties. Although he admitted that she was better than him in flying, nobody could call him unskilled. Abraxas, Orion and Ragnar weren't bad either, but that she supposed it was because they had their own broomsticks at home, and had grown up flying.
Brianna was abysmal in it, and Dorea wasn't any better if one were to judge her difficulty in balancing her broom. Laws was alright, and she noticed that she and her Ravenclaw friend seemed to be the exception among girls.
Harfang and Charlus Potter were good too – both of them were maneuvering their brooms to create spirals in the air skilfully, ignoring Madam Hooch's orders to slower. Anya laughed at their antics and dove through the air, pulling out of it seconds before crashing on the ground with a shout of mirth – a move that drawled the attention of many.
Someone screamed in terror above her, and Anya glanced up to see that Brianna had completely lost the control of her broom and was struggling to keep herself seated on the broom seventy feet up in the air. With a lurch, the broomstick bucked her off and then the girl found herself accelerating in free fall.
"Ms. Gagwilde!"
Anya didn't think twice before accelerating her broom in her roommate's direction, and with a strike, her mouth meet a wisp of pink blonde hair. The emerald-eyed witch smiled in relief to the blue-eyed one as the second wrapped her arms around the other's frame. "Caught you."
One moment later, Anya heard Madam Hooch's arresto momentum, which was no longer necessary.
If one were to consider the nails that dug in her flesh and the tears that washed her blouse as Anya lowered her broomstick in the air, one could say that Brianna was frightened by her fall – but her saviour was pretty sure that fright wasn't enough to define her emotions at the moment. "It's alright, you are safe." She assured her, landing in the courtyard.
As soon as her feet reached the ground, Brianna broke her embrace and threw herself onto the floor, eager to be away of a broom. Anya dropped it and bent down to hug her housemate, who returned it fiercely. "I was so scared; I thought I was going to die!"
Their classmates had all landed already, and circled the scene they were making. Madam Hooch pushed through the crowd of students and gathered the Slytherin girl in her arms. "Thank you, Anastasia; fifteen points for Slytherin for a great act of bravery. She's in shock, so I will have to take her to the Hospital Wing, class dismissed. Don't touch the brooms if you don't want to get detention." The flying instructor announced before guiding her student inside the castle.
"That was incredible!" Orion shouted in excitement. "I mean, I knew you were an excellent flyer when you performed the Wronski Feint, but that's was awesome! You must have set the speed record one can achieve in a cheap training broom like these – imagine you on a great broom."
"Hush, nephew…don't speak like that when Brianna is the hospital." Dorea chastised her sibling.
"That was reckless!" Tom shouted, pushing their classmates away and grabbing her arm. "Absolutely unacceptable! Idiotic and moronic! Unwise, imprudent, mindless, and rash!" He dragged her away from the courtyard, without putting a stop in his ramble.
"Donbyre!" A voice called her and Anya turned to see Blishwick approaching them. "I saw what you did up there, and you must join the Slytherin Quidditch Team – you are the perfect seeker, I would kick out last year seeker just for you to join us, but that won't be necessary because Fawcett just graduated. You have to join us!"
"I will think…"
"She won't join." Tom interrupted. "Now go away."
"Since when do you speak for her? I must insist for her to join." The upperclassman spoke at the same time Anya shrieked: "Excuse me?!"
"Very well, she can join. But you won't be the captain of the team." If the threat wasn't obvious in Tom's voice, then it would be evident in his gaze. It was more deadly than a basilisk's eyes probably – and definitely, more intimidating. "Now you will disappear from here, Blishwick."
But in truth, they never stuck around to see if the upperclassman had fled or not, because Tom didn't hesitate in grasping her arm and pulling her through the corridors until they found themselves totally alone.
'What were you thinking? You won't join the Quidditch Team!' He hissed in parseltongue.
'Why not? He was begging for me to join! I love flying, and just because you decided that we cannot fly in the school without a broom, it doesn't mean that I have to be deprived of it! What's the problem?'
'The problem?!' Tom laughed in annoying manner. 'The problem is that you were the only girl skilfully flying aside of a tomboy! It's unladylike!'
'Who cares? Dora rolls her eyes; Brianna giggles loudly, Laws curses! And I cannot fly because it's unladylike?! People don't like perfection, Arawn!'
'You remember what Dolohov said, he said only filthy mudbloods girls would join a quidditch team, or blood-traitors, who aren't any better! Now you want be part of them?'
'We are mudbloods! Face the truth, Tom! Our parents abandoned us because we had freakish powers! Again, what's the problem?'
'Don't you call me Tom! Not you! The problem is that you refuse to act good-mannered and chooses to act with vulgarity!'
'No, Tom. The problem is that you are a possessive, crazy jerk who refuses to acknowledge that I can be better than you and wants to control everything! Wake up, things won't be always like we want her to be!'
'I know that! You think I don't know that? I do everything in my power to achieve things I want to happen yet I'm hindered by a vulgar attention-whore slut who cannot afford to shallow her pride once and be quiet!'
She spat at him in anger. 'You know what? I don't give a fucking shit. If I'm such an obstacle don't waste your time with me. Don't you dare to approach me, Riddle.'
"Don't you dare turn your back to me, Anya!" He shouted as she did exactly the thing he had forbidden her to do.
In an evident example of what happened when you were raised in house full of neglected children of all ages, she raised a rather vulgar finger in both her hands and without facing him, Anya walked away. "Screw you."
Apparently, it was October.
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