Authors Notes: Very glad, and excited, to share this chapter with you all! It's nice to get back to Deirdre after that change in perspective! Hope you enjoy!
Chapter 7: War Wounds
"Older men declare war. But it is youth that must fight and die." - Herbert Hoover
Deirdre reached for the green tie that rested on her bed, and loosely wrapped it around her neck. She'd never tied a tie before Hogwarts, and, now that she had learned how, she realised that there came a certain satisfaction with being able to do so successfully. Perhaps, Deirdre thought, it was merely the knowledge of understanding how something in her new life worked.
Seven days ago, Deirdre had received her first letter whilst enrolled at Hogwarts. It had fluttered down from the talons of a tawny brown owl, and plopped onto the silver platter that had been laid out before her. Hesitantly, Deirdre and swiped the letter and tucked it into her robes to read later, and in a more secretive location, only to find that she would be disappointed in the words that graced the page. Disappointed in the lack of answers, and the surplus of excuses.
"Elara!" Deirdre heard the auburn haired Faye, whose name suited her fairy-like appearance, shout from the stairwell. "It looks like Ollie is waiting for you down in the common room, again."
On the opposite side of the room, Meredith snickered into her pillow, her blonde tresses spread across the mattress. "Seems like someone has a not-so-secret admirer," she said, her voice muffled against the cushion.
Elara rolled her electric blue eyes, and busied herself with her robes. "Oliver just wants to copy off my Charms homework," she protested, as a heat rose into her cheeks. Her dark hair fell into her face, but only barely covered her tentative smile.
Deirdre drew her attention away from the gaggle of giggling girls, and pulled her focus back to the tie that looped around her neck. Although the initial buzz of Deirdre's presence had worn down somewhat, that hadn't changed much in terms of the company she kept. Which wasn't impressive to begin with.
People had somehow managed to decide that, while Deirdre wasn't particularly popular, she was also one of the most talked about students to ever roam the halls of Hogwarts. Right up there with Harry Potter.
Deirdre brushed the creases out of her shirt, tightened her ponytail, and swung her bag over her shoulder. She took a moment to glance over to the bed nearest to her, where Genevieve Parkinson stood fumbling with her clothes.
It had taken several dreadful minutes to decide on the sleeping arrangements, but the Slytherin girls had finally come to a decision. Bella and a couple of her cronies decided that they wanted to have the second room all to themselves, but, seeing as there were only so many beds, Genevieve offered to remain in latter.
Or, at least, that's how Bella made the discussion seem.
Deirdre scuttled past her roommates, leaving them to dress without her. She never waited for them, as she assumed that it would only cause for an air of immense awkwardness. Yes, they were now accustomed to her presence in their lives, but, no, they were not friends.
Deirdre waltzed down the stairwell, and nearly bumped into the crowd of people that had swarmed around the noticeboard, who were all craning to get a good look at what the announcement written on the poster said.
"About time!" Someone gleefully shouted. "I was practically glued to my broom all summer!"
Another voice scoffed. "I suspect that would cause for some major complications in the down-"
"Shut up!"
Deirdre's eyes wandered over to the poster that announced the start of Quidditch lessons, where a broomstick was illustrated above some inscrutable text. She wormed her way through the masses of people around the stairwell, bumping into someone loitering around the exit.
"Hey," said Scorpius, smiling. "So, Quidditch. You excited?"
Deirdre was unsure how she felt about Scorpius. Externally, he seemed to be no different than the pretentious boys who attended her previous school. The boys who thought that they were the center of the world, the ones who came from wealthy families, the ones who thought themselves better than everyone else.
Perhaps he was different.
Deirdre glanced back to the rambunctious crowd behind her. "Nope." She said, as the students surrounding the noticeboards slowly began to disperse. "Especially not if we have to share the class with the Gryffindors."
Scorpius looked to the advertisement Deirdre was fixated on, as a sudden flash of red was now visible in the sea of Slytherin green. "It won't be as bad as you think," he consoled. "Nothing ever is."
Deirdre ignored the comment, and shook her head. She knew it to be a blatant lie. Harmless, but nonetheless a lie. "I don't even know what Quidditch is."
"That's a crime in itself." Scorpius said, chuckling. "I'll teach you the rules. It's pretty simple."
She pursed her lips into something that resembled a smile, and hummed. "I'll have to think about that." She said, as she walked through the portrait hole, taking note that Scorpius was still on her trail.
"Scorpius," Deirdre said, testing the name out on her tongue. "What are you doing?"
Instinctively, Scorpius took a look at himself, like there might have been something that he was doing that he had not noticed. "I'm walking with you?" He said, questioning Deirdre.
"No," said Deirdre. "I mean, why?"
Scorpius looked away, and locked his eyes on his feet. "Maybe because you're not the only one whose popularity has plummeted."
For something to plummet, that something must have been soaring beforehand, and Deirdre did not feel like she had ever been soaring. However, she remained silent about the issue. Instead, she glanced down at the floor, and noticed that Scorpius' pale skin had been tainted by a splotch of blue ink.
"What's that?"
Scorpius went pink, and shoved his hand into his billowy robes. "I was writing with that pen of yours, and it sort of..." He trailed off, and made a gesture with his hands that mimicked that of an explosion, before shoving his hands back into his pockets. "Sorry," said Scorpius, somewhat bashfully.
Deirdre held his gaze for a moment, holding back a laugh. She dug her hand into her own pocket, and pulled out her music player. "Here," she said, holding the device out to him. "It plays music."
Tentatively, and somehow eagerly at the same time, Scorpius took hold of the device. He turned it around in his hands, making observations. Deirdre watched as he took note of the weight, the texture, and all the little details. "How do you get the music in there?"
"A special kind of Muggle magic, I guess." Deirdre said, shrugging. "Here," she continued, pressing the button in the middle, causing Scorpius to recoil in surprise. "You can scroll through the music here," Deirdre pressed on one of the titles, "And then it plays through here." She reached for the headphones that had been left dangling between the duo.
Scorpius chuckled at the absurdity of her instructions. "I have to put those in my ears?"
"Well, yes!" Deirdre said through a smile. She walked into the Great Hall, instinctively walking towards the bench where she normally sat alone.
"And this is what Muggle music is like?" Scorpius quietly pondered aloud.
Before Deirdre had the chance to concoct a witty response, she was interrupted. Hundreds of owls descended upon them, fluttering through the chandeliers. It was the only part of the morning that Deirdre looked forward to.
Something made a thud as it landed on Scorpius' plate, and, as Deirdre looked over towards him, she realised it had seemed to have been a roll of newspaper. "Why would someone call themselves the Beatles?" Scorpius asked, unaware of what had landed in front of him.
Deirdre rolled her eyes, and laughed. "The Beatles are a band, nimrod." She said, as her eyes wandered over to the newspaper on his plate. "Could I see that?"
Scorpius nodded, too invested in the device in his hands to care, as Deirdre reached for the paper. "The Daily Prophet." She mumbled, scanning the articles until something caught her eye.
The DURSLEY Witch - Yeah, You Heard Right!
By the Daily Prophet's Gossip Correspondent, Rita Skeeter
The name "Harry Potter" will continue to invoke conversation at the dinner table for generations to come, but who would have ever thought that the name "Dursley" would do the same?
Just last week our sources say that one Deirdre Dursley, second cousin to the infamous, although withering, Harry Potter, made an appearance on Platform 9 and 3/4. The word is, ladies and gentlemen, that Deirdre Dursley is a witch. And now a Slytherin as well! How fitting!
What more shall we hear of the Little Dursley and her adventures? How will she cope with the harsh reality she has suddenly been thrust into? Keep up to date with Rita Skeeter, the Daily Prophet's Gossip Correspondent!
"Who the hell is this woman?" Deirdre mumbled, attempting to keep her voice down. "Who does she think she is? Writing about me!"
Scorpius looked up from the device in his hands, and looked towards Deirdre. His eyes washed over the vicious column before her. "Oh," said Scorpius. "It's alright. That's Rita Skeeter's column. Everyone knows she's barmy."
"It doesn't matter," Deirdre said. "This column is about me. And, considering everything that everyone has been saying, people are bound to believe anything rotten written about me. And do you even see what they've said? A Slytherin as well - how fitting? What on earth are they getting at? What, does the whole world have something against us?"
Scorpius shrugged. "Don't worry about it. Stuff like that is in the news all the time now." He set down the Muggle device in his hands, and turned to Deirdre. "Since the Second Wizarding War, there's this preconceived notion about Slytherins. You know that we're all posh, pure blooded, Muggle hating twats."
"All because of some war that happened nearly twenty years ago?"
He nodded, rather simply. "Twenty years ago is not that long ago," Scorpius reasoned. "My Dad was there, and let me tell you that-" Scorpius paused. "-That didn't go well."
"Is that why you're hanging around me?" Deirdre asked, curiously.
"Better this than hang around a bunch of people who only think my Dad a coward and barely tolerate me."
"Wow, thanks," Deirdre said, though jokingly.
"No, it's just-" Scorpius said through somewhat forced laughter. "Wars leave battle scars, you know? And they just so happen to have taken the form of people."
SassyDoe: We'll definitely be touching on Dudley and Deirdre's relationship a tad more in future chapters! Right now, and prior to the story's start, it's clearly been a bit rocky, but we'll get to reasons why later!
Fairy of the Fritz: Thank you so much - that means a lot! And as for a reunion...we'll have to wait and see!
Dustfinger's cheering section: Hope you've enjoyed!
