Summary: "Dad, what do you have against Slytherins?" "They're all a bunch of slimy snakes, that's what." There's only a few days left before Rose's fifth year starts, but somehow she manages to get into yet another argument with Dad on that subject. Parody of Slytherin-bashing and (sort-of) Ron-bashing. In both the Quidditch Fanfiction League Entries and Reconstruction.

Disclaimer: Am not J.K. Rowling, do not own Fanfiction (not even my own - plagarize at will), yarn, or any of the other things mentioned in here. Hope that's clear! Also, not intended to insult anybody's hard work (though I hope I didn't) or opinions. Unless you think snakes are actually slimy. Then you should read more.

Because They're Slimy

"Dad, what are you eating?" Rose Weasley asked her father in shock.

Dad was leaning back on the sofa, popping pieces of what looked like yarn into his mouth. Scattered around him were bits and pieces of blue that he seemed to have dropped while shoving the thick sewing material into his mouth.

"Mint yarn," he answered through a mouthful.

"Dad, mouth shut," Rose scolded, aware that she sounded like her mother when she did that. "And what in the name of Merlin is mint yarn?"

Dad chuckled, his tongue colored blue. "It's the annual Back-To-Hogwarts Wheeze."

"I thought that was Edible Sweaters," Rose answered. "They came out a week ago, remember?"

"Well, some people wanted to personalize it, and before you know - edible yarn. This one is the blue flavored one. Want to try some?" He held out a thick ball of blue mint yarn.

Rose took a rough-feeling strand and popped it into her mouth, feeling it dissolve, a cool peppermint taste flooding her mouth. She closed her eyes, caught in the tide of mint, and exhaled. A minty flavor wafted up to her nose. "It's good!" she said as she plopped into a somewhat bouncy, blue and orange seat with an S-shaped back that Muggles had invented. It was supposedly good for her posture.

Because each of the family members preferred different chairs - Mum a straight backed, cushioned seat, Hugo what was basically a really big, squat, cylindrical pillow, Dad his sofa, and Rose her bouncy chair, there was a strange assortment of chairs in the living room around the flat, pockmarked table that they played Exploding Snap and chess on in the light of the fire. A red and gold rug covered the polished wooden floor, but the walls were a light blue at Rose's insistence. She refused to live in a house without some Ravenclaw colors.

Dad beamed. "Isn't it? And charmed to be clean, like the Edible Sweaters. George hasn't made it Slytherin-proof yet, but it's only a matter of time."

Rose ignored that last comment. Their disagreement on Slytherin would forever be a bone of contention between them. "I'm going back to Hogwarts tomorrow!" she said happily instead.

"Oh, my poor little Rosie, going back to face those mean Slytherins with only a few of your loyal lion family members to protect you," Dad moaned, looking at her sadly. "Don't worry, James and Fred will be with you as much as they can."

Rose rolled her eyes. You would think that having Lily and Hugo, who were practically the definition of Slytherin, would have inured Dad, but no, he still held fast to his prejudices like a baby with his rattle. And to think that his wife led the movement for equality and change in the Ministry and (if she said so herself) his children at Hogwarts.

"I can protect myself," she said slightly coldly, sitting up straighter than she already normally did. "What do you have against Slytherins?"

As soon as the words left her lips she wanted to bang her head for being stupid. During times like these, she could understand the house elves' self-punishment. She knew this would start yet another debate that would result in her wanting to hex Dad for stupidity.

Sure enough, Dad answered in a matter-of-fact voice, "They're all a bunch of slimy snakes."

"Dad, snakes aren't slimy. They just look that way because of the way the sun reflects from their scales," Rose answered automatically. To try to distract herself from Dad she ran through her plans for the year.

In the four years she had been at Hogwarts, she had organized and helped carry out what were now being called, respectively, the Hufflepuff-Ravenclaw Rebellion, the House Elf Uprising, the Education Edification, and the Muggle-Magic Coeducation Campaign.

This year, Rose wasn't sure what was being planned. She knew Lily, Albus, and her errant little brother were cooking something up, but whatever it was, they were keeping mum.

"…evil," she heard Dad say, but she knew what he had said before.

For a grand total of three seconds Rose didn't retort. And then she gave in to the need to correct him and said, "Excuse me?"

"Rosie, I know it's hard for you accept - Hogwarts has bloody well corrupted you - but Slytherins are evil. Just look at Voldemort, Bellatrix Lestrange, Lucius Malfoy…"

If this wasn't Dad, Rose would have hexed him. Why couldn't he have been like…Professor Longbottom and have gotten over it? Instead she made a strangled noise. "Lily? Hugo?" She paused. Bad examples. "Never mind, those two are evil. But what about Irena Parkinson? Katrina Orleans? Anita Wood? Zygo Matic? Cindy Habir?" She named names of some of the most ethical people in the school.

"Exceptions," Dad said promptly, a response that caught Rose off guard before mentally groaning. "The Sorting Hat makes mistakes."

"That's a whole lot of mistakes then," Rose deadpanned. It seemed this debate was going in that direction. "Besides, Slytherins are picked for their traits, not for being evil, believe it or not. And if you actually look at the statistics, Ravenclaw house has produced the most villains." Intelligence and a lack of ethics - ethics were generally for Gryffindors and Slytherins - were not a good combination.

"Rose," Dad said in a patient voice, "don't look at useless sc - scacisits -"

"Statistics, Dad, and they aren't useless!" Rose huffed indignantly. Of all the things Dad believed, this had got to be the worst, even worse than his strange belief that red and gold (both colors that Rose detested in large quantities) would turn Rose and Hugo into "proper" Gryffindor Weasleys. She realized belatedly that she was standing, her hand on her hips, and sat down with a sigh. "Honestly, where did you get that idea?"

"You told me yourself," Dad replied promptly. Amazingly, he sounded like he believed it.

"I bloody well did not!" Rose snapped, feeling indignation rise up again. She bit her lip and exhaled sharply, trying to calm the hex she could practically taste, coppery and salty like blood, sour against the memory of the mint. Dealing with Dad was sometimes - usually - like dealing with a child. "How?" She was aware that her voice was overly patient, bordering on patronizing, but seriously, it was like Dad had never grown up.

"You said that statistics say that Slytherins aren't evil, so they're useless," Dad said with conviction.

Rose closed her eyes tiredly, leaning against the back of her chair that was the only reason she wasn't slumping. Only Dad would manage to use such faulty logic. Mum just rolled her eyes when he did it and gave him a piece of cake. She told Rose jokingly that she wished she could shut up the rest of the Wizengamot so easily.

"Are you okay, Rosie?" Dad asked concernedly. "Do you want more mint yarn?"

Rose took another strand, opening one eye to watch the blue, fuzzy piece of yarn as she rolled it between her fingers. She closed it again as she put the mint into her mouth, rough against her for an instant before dissolving again, the cool taste of winter mint tingling against her senses. It was just as good as the last strand had been in seemed to rejuvenate her. She opened her eyes and smiled at Dad. "Thanks, Dad." Even though he had strange beliefs and embarrassed her whenever friends came over, he could still be sweet in his own way.