Disclaimers
This is a nonprofit work of fiction. The Harry Potter Universe, in its entirety, belongs to the wonderful and exceedingly talented J.K. Rowling, Warner Bros, and other affiliates. No infringement is intended.
The views and opinions expressed in this story are solely those of the characters being portrayed and do not necessarily express the views and opinions of the writer.
Important Author's Announcement!
For those of you who have favorited this story prior to today (Thursday, June 1st, 2017), you'll notice that this update is a portion of what was previously Chapter Three: Hogwarts, a Hierarchy. This fanfiction, formerly known as The Life & Lies of Hermione Granger, now retitled as The Complexities of Human Nature, is undergoing major reconstruction. The most notable difference is in the formatting. Whereas chapters were once about 3k words, they are now being posted in drabble-like increments, typically one scene at a time, organized in (mostly) chronological order. I would very strongly recommend starting from the beginning, as I've added some details that, in my opinion, really add depth to the characters, as well as foreshadowing. At this point in time, the changes aren't so extreme that they'll hamper your understanding of the story, but in a few updates' time I will be making drastic alterations to the content. Please see my profile for more details.
Don't play with the Devil,
He always cheats.
Thursday, September 1st, 1977 - Part II
The slow clap from the Slytherins seemed more like an insult than anything else. Persephone wasn't sure whether to laugh or set fire to table. In the end, she simply slid off the stool and placed the hat back atop it. Smirking at her new house, she stepped down from the dais and walked through the center isle alongside the Ravenclaws. Few of the Sacred Twentyeight were currently in attendance at Hogwarts, due to the results of inbreeding and infertility. But as she passed Regulus Black, she was careful to catch his eye and incline her head fractionally, acknowledging his status. She couldn't help but feel pleased as he returned the gesture, albeit with a calculated gleam in his coffee coloured eyes.
Persephone had been observant enough in her past life to have been aware of the class system used by the house of Salazar. Her recent knowledge of pureblood etiquette had only heightened that awareness, and given her more insight into it. She understood, now, that their table was not only arranged by year, but also by blood and social status. Of course, there were exceptions, though they were few and far between, and usually involved betrothals or politics.
The seventh years were at the end nearest the double doors, just as they had been in her time. She assumed it had something to do with convenience. The shortest walk to meals, the furthest from the staff to avoid their conversations being overheard. At the very last section of the table were those from the purest lines. A few she recognized, but most she did not.
Not that it particularly mattered. From the moment she had been sorted, Persephone had known immediately what she intended to do to assert her position within this house. Stopping at her destination, she noticed that the seventh years had gone deathly silent. There was a slightly discomfiting air to the quiet; something oppressive, as if they were anxiously anticipating where she'd establish herself. But they also seemed to be steadfastly attempting to ignore her, stoically gazing at one another and refusing to validate her presence. So with a deliberate sneer, she directed her attention to the falsely golden-blond asian boy who sat on the very edge of the bench. Clearing her throat, she did her best imitation of Draco Malfoy at his haughtiest.
"Excuse me, but I think you're in my seat."
She imagined you could have heard a pin drop, despite the fact that all students not in the immediate vicinity were clearly unaware of the power struggle taking place. She could hear, as if from a distance, a group of youths laughing from the Ravenclaw table. The Great Hall was in it's usual first meal uproar. Yet it was as if these few students were in a bubble, removed from the rest.
In an irksomely slow manner, the boy turned to glance up at her. One eyebrow rose sardonically. She noted, from the corner of her eye, that the young man sitting across from whom she was addressing was watching them with a decisively malicious expression.
From the asian's immediate right, a corkscrewed brunette laughed.
"Terribly sorry," said the girl, in a sickly sweet voice. It reminded Persephone of Bellatrix. "I believe you're mistaken. Avery is exactly where he should be."
She'd pointedly stressed his surname. But the Glacendres girl had devotedly studied the British family lines, under Dumbledore's tutoring. The Avery family history was long indeed, dating back to the Évreux family of Navarra, Spain, who ruled from 1328 to 1441. Which, coincidentally, was when King Charles II of Navarra married Joan of France—a muggle. Their halfblood daughter, Joanna, went on to marry King Henry IV of England, who was a pureblood wizard. Hence beginning the English line, eventually intermarrying once more with the Évreux cousins, who adapted the surname of Avery upon their relocation.
"Joan de Navarre avait du sang contaminé," Persephone shot back, disdain dripping from her tone. "The Évreux line may date back to the Dark Ages, but the Avery line dates only to the Renaissance. The Glacendres family has been pure since Classical Antiquity." She bent down, slipping her left hand fastidiously into her pocket as she did so and gripping her vinewood wand. Her cherry red lips curled up into a mocking half-smile as she met his glare. "You are in my seat."
If there was a single way to get under a Pureblood's skin, it was to draw attention to a fault in their genealogy. Their hierarchy depended solely on their purity, and she had, for all intents and purposes, just usurped the current king of Hogwarts. The fury on his face was immensely satisfying. And the hex that came flying at her was expected. The direction it came from, on the other hand, was not.
While she had been watching Avery, she had failed to observe the boy across from him. But after a year on the run, looking over her shoulder for snatchers, and the chaos that was the Battle of Hogwarts, her instincts were preternatural. Eighteen months ago she would not have been able to block the bright orange curse that zipped through the air. Defense had never been her strongest subject. But Persephone Glacendres had experienced war first hand, and her aptitude far surpassed anything these teenaged, Death Eater wannabes could throw at her. For the time being, at least.
The light collided with her Shield Charm, causing the usually invisible barrier to flare electric blue where they made contact before the hex fizzled out entirely.
Part of her had hoped it would come to this. The real Persephone had, indeed, been a squib, though that was never confirmed by sources outside of her own family. She knew that she would have to prove herself, and quickly, if she expected any peace from potential perpetual persecutors in Slytherin. They would not take kindly to someone unable to perform magic, no matter how pristine their bloodline. It was important for her to display her strength as soon as possible.
Her head snapped to the side, focus zeroing in on the opposite side of the table. If she hadn't been reeling in rage, she might have noticed how attractive he was. With spiked up sable hair and striking blue-green eyes, a semitic nose, and a full mouth, he was certainly pleasing enough. But all of this was overlooked as she softly pressed the tip of her wand to his clear complexioned forehead.
"Persephone Glacendres," she said in clipped tones, extending her right hand out to him, while simultaneously increasing the pressure against his skull. "How do you do?"
There was no hesitation from him, except the briefest flicker of his gaze towards Avery. His wand dropped with a clatter onto his plate, and he reached out to grasp her hand firmly.
"Jaxton Mulciber," he replied quietly. "Pleasure to meet you."
Removing the threat from his face, she smiled. "The pleasure is all mine, Monsieur Mulciber."
When she turned back around, Avery had vacated the place of honor, leaving behind a space for her to sit. She wasn't surprised to see that he was nowhere in sight. Presumably, he'd left the feast entirely. Though whether that was from anger, humiliation, or fear was yet to be seen. Darting her stare up towards the teachers, she saw that Dumbledore was watching her, the approval behind his half moon spectacles blatant even from the distance. She settled comfortably onto the bench, knowing full well that it was the equivalent of a throne. Funny to think that they'd just apotheosized a Mudblood.
A round of introductions ensued. In was during this inauguration that she finally noticed black orbs examining her out of a pallid face, nearly hidden behind lank curtains of onyx hair. It seemed that she had caught the attention of Severus Snape. She carefully suppressed her pride, burying it deep beneath her Occlumency walls and meeting his blank stare with an impassive facade of her own. She dipped her chin minutely, and was rewarded by the fractional widening of his eyes from the acknowledgment. Deeming that enough for the time being, she turned to heap what she could of the dinner onto her plate before it disappeared. It seemed that the initial phase of her plan was going off without a hitch. But this was only the beginning, and she knew that everything beyond this point would be infinitely more complicated.
She had always enjoyed a challenge.
Author's Notes
Most of the characters from this chapter, and the next chapter, are canon, though I did have to add first names to some of the surnames.
Joan de Navarre avait du sang contaminé means 'Joan of Navarra had dirty blood' in French. As for the Navarra family, that is all absolutely true, excluding the bits about their blood purity and being wizards/witches and whatnot. That is actually how the Avery surname came into being, adapting from Évreux. From Navarra to France, and from France to England.
The Dark Ages were from 476-800AD, whereas the Renaissance was from 1300-1700. So if Joan of France was a muggle, the Avery family can't be older than her daughter, the halfblood, and cannot be pureblood again until the third generation of magical lineage. Classical Antiquity dates from 700BC to 600AD. So if the Glacendres family has record of their line until then, with only purity, their family has been pure for over a millenia longer than the Avery family. I understand that being able to map genealogy back that far is pretty much impossible, but it fit my needs, so I went with it.
Interactive Question
How do you think pureblood society generally treats squibs? Do you think they're disowned, or just disdained? I'll expand on Hermione's (my) opinion on this later in the story, but I'd love to hear your thoughts on the matter.
Reviews are my muse.
