Here is the rest of the filler chapter!
To Be Welcomed
Max almost forgot how hard acting like a pureblood was. The whole summer he'd been free to rant and rave about how spectacular Hogwarts was. His night back home in Manchester his family had stayed up all night with him as he explained every spell, exam and everything magical in between, that he'd experienced his first year. Before that he could only risk behaving Muggle-like in letters to his mother, otherwise he kept all that excitement bottled up.
Entering the Great Hall after a whole summer without magic, he held back on gasping in wonder. The hall was lit by thousands and thousands of candles. They floated in midair over the four long tables. The tables were set with glittering golden plates and goblets. At the top of the hall was the faculty's table. Looking up, Max peered up into the velvety black ceiling dotted with stars. He'd read Hogwarts: A History four times over before he came to school, so he knew that its ceiling had been bewitched to look like the sky outside. Still, the Muggle in him found it hard to believe there was a ceiling at all. He liked to think the Great Hall was simply open on to the heavens above.
Max followed Corvus and the other Salesmen to the Slytherin table. Once students had seated, they leaned over the tables to shout across at each other, asking how they're holidays went, etc. The Great Hall was filled with a cacophony of chatter. He tuned out what was being said around him, his azure eyes searching the Hall to see if all the ghosts were present. Counting the school's ghosts had been a favorite pastime.
Sure enough he found all of them, dotted here and there amongst the students. They shone misty silver.
"Flint! FLINT!" Louis hollered, but the Quidditch captain was too busy showing off his new captain badge.
"Allow me," grinned Corvus, his wand out and he gave it a flick. Flint's fork rose in the air and jabbed him in the arm. Flint shrieked in surprise. The Salesmen burst into snickers.
"What is it, Vaisey?" Flint called back, rubbing his arm. His face was very red, and Max knew if anyone else other than Corvus had forked him in the arm, he would've retaliated.
"When are you holding try-outs?"
"I dunno, when I want," he retorted testily.
"Sounds like a winning plan, Marcus," said Claude, walking down the length of the table, flanked by his group of friends. He patted Flint on the back as he past him, "Glad to see you're taking your new title seriously, Anna will be pleased to hear this."
Flint looked a tad sheepish, but he promised to have the dates up by the end of the week.
"Oh! Which one do you reckon is him?" Louis nudged Max abruptly, gesturing to the first-years being led into the Great Hall by Professor McGonagall. Max knew Louis was referring to the rumor that Harry Potter was present amongst them. "That blonde kid said he's friends with one of the Weasleys…"
"That bushy-haired girl said he had a scar on his head," said Anwar, rising slightly in his seat to see the passing first-years.
"A Scar left by the Dark Lord," added Jeremy, eagerly. "It was the only trace left behind of their duel –"
"A baby did not duel with You-Know-Who," snapped Corvus. "You need a wand to duel."
"Fine, maybe duel isn't the right term," he said, "But Potter used something vanish the Dark Lord."
"Maybe he head-butt him," said Louis with a smirk, "Explain that scar, it would."
"You're not funny," Jeremy told him, but Anwar talked over him.
"He's probably dumb and slow because of it."
Louis feigned admiration, "Gave up his future smarts to save the magical world. What a good chap."
"We'll have to wait and see, I suppose," replied Corvus, trying to act like he wasn't intrigued. Max had read several books describing Harry Potter's significance in the Wizarding War. When he first visited Diagon Alley he'd spent about five hours buried in Flourish and Blotts book collections. It took about an hour and a half of browsing for him to stumble upon the history of intolerance against Muggles.
They went quiet as the Sorting ceremony commenced. It was nice being in the audience this time. The Hat sang, a different song from last year which Max expected since he'd read Hogwarts: A History. A few of the other second-years were surprised at this. Then McGonagall began calling each of them up to the Hat.
Milicent Bulstrode became the first Slytherin. Max applauded her with the rest of his house. Claude leaned in to sneer at the Salesmen only, "Got us a prized dog, eh?"
"Malfoy, Draco!" The blonde boy Louis had met on the train swaggered forward. The hat had barely touched his head when it screamed, "SLYTHERIN!" There weren't many people left after him.
"Almost there," said Corvus next to him. He saw the eagerness in his friend's eyes as McGonagall called the name, "Perks, Sally-Anne." Potter was next.
"Potter, Harry!"
Whispers suddenly broke out like hissing fires all over the hall. Corvus practically stood on his seat to get a look at the first-year. Max rose up a little too. The Boy-Who-Lived had unruly black hair, green eyes and glasses. That was all he could decipher. "Doesn't look like much," he determined. Corvus laughed.
"No he doesn't," he agreed. "I don't really know what I was expecting."
It took a while for the Sorting Hat to decided where he'd place Potter. A few in Slytherin wondered if he'd join them. Waiting, Max thought back on his own Sorting and how it'd taken the Hat a few moments to decide about his placement too;
"Ah, this will be a challenge… A very smart mind, a real hunger for knowledge… You'd be welcomed in Ravenclaw…"
It was like receiving a punch to the face. You'd be welcomed in Ravenclaw. He didn't want to just be placed in a House that would be nice to him. He wanted to be placed in the House that would get him where he wanted to be.
"I understand," the Hat had said. "But you better have a thick-skin for... SLYTHERIN!"
"GRYFFINDOR!" the Hat called out for Harry Potter. Max refrained from clapping, Potter was already getting the loudest cheer yet courtesy of the Gryffindor house.
X
X
Girls Night Out
Claire Vaisey sauntered into the Slytherin commons, completely aware that she was fashionably late. It was a little past midnight and the second night of the school year. She was seventh year now, and she was currently dating the Head Boy, Edmund Towers.
Sitting on the couch by the commons' fireplace were the first-year girls. They were huddled together, whispering nervously to each other.
"What if we get caught?"
"It's just detention –"
"Maybe your father doesn't care, Daph, but mine will kill me."
"Draco and the other boys have seen, we'll be there only ones who haven't."
"Pansy, they're boys, of course they can see it whenever –"
"Now why would I invite you on this little fieldtrip if there was a chance of getting caught?" asked Claire joining them before the fire. In the pale firelight she looked almost hauntingly beautiful. Her hair was up in soft, loose curls and her diamond earrings sparkled like tiny stars. The girls ogled at her for a moment, silent.
"We won't get caught?" finally one of them got her sense back. She was a small girl with ash-blonde hair and wide, cat-like eyes.
"I haven't gotten detention for four years now," she laughed lightly, her laugh sounding like silver bells. "It's always good to have an excuse already planned out when going on an excursion like this. For example, for tonight, should we get caught, I will explain that you girls were feeling overwhelmingly homesick and wanted to send letters to your mummy and daddy. I graciously offered to take you to the owlry. I've already spoken to Felicia, our prefect, she is prepared to vouch for us."
The girls were quiet again. Then one of them, a girl with brown eyes and curly blonde hair, turned to her cat-eyed friend, "Told you, Tracey."
"So, lets try to keep the stupid questions down to a minimum from now on girls," smiled Claire. She twirled around, snapping her fingers, "Away we go!"
There were four girls she was overseeing that night. The only one she knew by name was Pansy Parkinson, the brunette girl who resembled a pug. Pansy had introduced herself to Claire earlier that day, and asked if she'd take them to see the Salesmen's motto. Claire was certainly one of the people to go to for that. Claude and her enjoyed giving tours to the ignorant.
She led them out of the commons, briskly walking through the empty dungeons and through the Entrance Hall. The girls were anxiously looking over their shoulders and out of the corner of their eyes. Claire knew who was on patrol tonight and when, Eddie had been a dear and told her after dinner. And she knew how to handle Filch.
"Did they really send someone to St. Mungo's last year?" asked Pansy.
Claire didn't even glance back at her. "What did I say about stupid questions, dear?"
"How do they get away with it? Someone's got to have a clue of who they are," said the curly blonde girl.
"There are clues, yes, but no proof."
"What do they sell?" asked an unfortunate-looking girl. She was built quite wide and with a harsh face.
"Whatever you need, they sell," she told her before pausing at the corner of a corridor. She checked the next hallway, when she saw it was clear she motioned for the girls to continue after her.
"How's that possible?" asked Tracy.
"Sweetheart, mind the stupid questions," she reminded her gently. "I don't know the inner workings of Salazar's Salesmen."
"But you know some stuff," said Pansy, feeling confident all of a sudden. "Louis Vaisey, your brother, is one of them."
Claire stopped walking, turning round to loom over the girls, "My brother's an angel and you better not spread nasty rumors like that about Louis. You girls better not think too hard about who the Salesmen might be. They're a source of pride for all us in Slytherin. House cups and Quidditch matches, those things don't prove a thing about our House's character. Sal's Guys on the other… they're Salazar Slytherin's bloody protégées."
The girls stared at her, resembling petrified creatures cornered by a lioness, except for the curly blonde girl. She looked excited by Claire's speech, this display of nerves brought a small smile to the part-Veela's face.
"Now keep up and keep quiet." She turned on her heels and took them upstairs. They got to the sixth floor without coming across any prefect, Filch or Mrs. Norris. Claire opened the door to the boys' bathroom.
One by one they entered. Claire pointed them to the back of the restrooms, to where a blank wall was that had large, black, spidery letters written on it;
We are Salazar's Salesmen
We will cater to your every need. No matter how unseemly they may be. But all for a fee.
X
X
Brotherly Love
Knock. Knock. Knock.
Pause.
Knock.
Pause
Knock. Knock.
Anwar took a step back, pulling on his hood to make sure it covered as much of his face as possible. Stupid Jamal had installed a porch light, which made things a lot more inconvenient.
There was a shuffling sound and finally the door was opened. His brother was a lot taller than him, and skinny. He wore glasses, sweater vests and his shoes were always polished. A lot of the times Anwar felt the urge to punch his brother.
They had the same hair though, black hair that looked as if electricity had run through it.
"Brother," he greeted briskly. "Isn't this exciting?"
"Let me in, Jamal."
"Of course!" he stepped aside. The cabin looked even smaller from the inside. It had two bedrooms, one bath, a kitchen and a day room. Jamal had let their mother decorate – there were Persian rugs everywhere and too much gold. "Would you like some tea? I was just boiling some water –"
"What were you thinking with that porch light?" he cut him off, finally pulling back his hood. Jamal looked taken aback.
"I – well, sometimes I like to read outside, it's nice," he said in a small voice. Anwar rolled his eyes. Something inside of Jamal reminded him of his hierarchy in the family, "It's my porch little brother. If you and your friends can't get around a bit of light, then well – you're not as clever as I figured."
"Oh shove it, Jamal. If we get caught you do too."
Jamal took a deep breath. Anwar always knew how to infuriate his older brother. In general, Anwar felt anyone in Ravenclaw was easy to annoy. They were so stuffy and uptight… such easy targets. Almost as easy as a Gryffindor… Hufflepuff usually had high tolerance for teasing…
"The papers are here," his older brother broke Anwar's trail of thought. Jamal walked over to his coffee table where there was a tall stack of papers set in a box. Without so much as a thank you, Anwar shut the box and pulled out a roll of Spello-tape from his robe.
"Where your scissors?"
Jamal clicked his tongue and went into the kitchen for a moment, returning with scissors. Handing them to his brother, he watched Anwar tape the box shut. "So… this wasn't a bad turn out, was it? And for our first time too…"
"Yeah, Louis and his relatives have been spreading word of it," he replied.
"Oh, you mean Claire and Claude? How are they?"
He shrugged.
"Do they know about my part in all this?" he asked with a proud smile. Anwar gave him a skeptical look.
"Why would they know?"
"Well, I assume they're curious about who's behind it."
Anwar paused to think for a moment, trying to remember if anyone outside of the Salesmen asked about who was behind the homework-service. "No one's asked. No one cares, Jamal. They just want the papers."
He was a little upset. "They don't ask for credentials? I mean – who – don't they want to know who they're trusting their homework with? I could be an imbecile and ruin their academic integrity!"
This was one of those times when he wanted to punch his brother. "But you're not an imbecile and you love homework too much to ruin anything."
"That's not the point, Anwar."
"Whatever," he grumbled. He took out a velvet pouch from his pocket. He shook it out before slowly stretching it to cover the corners of the box. Inch by inch he worked the large box into the pouch. The little pouch magical engulfed the box.
"So, how's the school year treating you so far, little brother?"
Merlin, this couldn't go any slower. "Fine."
"Rosmerta – Madam Rosmerta I mean," his older brother said haughtily, "told me that Harry Potter's started Hogwarts this year. Is that true?"
"Yup."
"Does he have a scar in the shape of a –"
"All done," he announced. The velvet pouch laid in the palm of his hand, seemingly empty and as light as a feather. He headed for the door, pulling up his hood again, before he left he called back to Jamal, "Get rid of that light."
X
X
Stop Hitting Yourself
It was the last weekend of the school year and most of the students were enjoying the nice weather outside. Eloise Midgen was leaving through the Entrance Hall's doors with her housemates, Hannah Abbott and Susan Bones.
"My hair does look shinier," observed Hannah. She'd received an ounce of Pixie Dust two days ago from the Salesmen. Eloise was a little envious of her shimmering, voluminous locks. Self-consciously she touched her own mousy-brown hair. The only thing she'd accomplished with it was putting a bow in it. "I hope it wears out though before I get back home… my grandmothers doesn't want me wearing make up or doing anything like that."
"It's really pretty though," said Susan. They continued talking as they climbed down the stairs to the castle, they walked across the great lawn, but soon their conversation was drowned out by the sound of something else… It sounded as if someone was getting beaten up…
SMACK, WACK, THUD, SMACK!
Between every cringe-worthy hit Eloise heard raucous laughter from a crowd of people. The girls glanced at each other then hurried up, running over a slope to see what was on the other side…
Louis had his wand aimed at Anthony Goldstein, Terry Boot and Michael Corner. The first-year boys were huddle close together; they were all panting and red in the face. Standing by Louis's side were Corvus Blackstone, Anwar Rajan, Jeremy Petzold, the first-year Slytherins and half the Slytherin Quidditch team. They were all laughing.
"Poor little Ravenclaws, gone mad from all the studying, you have," leered Louis. "You just can't stop hitting yourself!"
There was a loud pop and a purple ball of light exploded from the end of Louis's wand. Anthony's hand slapped himself across the face. Terry Boot smacked his palm onto his nose and Michael punched himself so hard he nearly keeled over. The Slytherins burst into even louder laughter and cheers.
"Leave us alone!" shouted Anthony.
"I am not doing anything, mate," Louis told them, wiping his eyes. "If anything, first-year, I'm very concerned for your mental health. It's not right."
There was another purple explosion of light and the three boys hit themselves again. This time Michael Corner cut his bottom lip. Hannah gasped, horrified.
Pansy Parkinson heard that gasp. She pointed at the Hufflepuff girls, "Hey, Vaisey, how about those first-years. They look sick in the head, right?"
The Slytherins turned their sneering faces towards them. Suddenly Susan was gone from Eloise's side, sprinting back to the castle for safety. Exchanging frightened looks, Eloise and Hannah decided it would be best to follow her.
She turned on her heels and ran. She took three long strides before colliding into something. There were flashes of stars in front of her eyes and the ground came rushing up to meet her. Hannah squeaked somewhere above her, but she kept running. The Slytherins burst out laughing again, possibly as her failed escape. Head spinning, Eloise pulled herself up and looked around.
She'd collided into Maxwell Love. Her heart froze. She was a deer caught in headlights. She'd collided into one of the Salesmen… into one of Louis Vaisey's best friends! Oh sweet mother of Merlin, I'm toast!
He'd fallen back on the ground too. Shaking his head, he blinked a few times and slowly got to his feet. His friends were still laughing their heads off, it actually sounded like some of them were crying, but he wasn't. His expression was indiscernible.
She braced herself…
"Are you okay?"
Eloise flinched instinctively, imagining a curse was going to be thrown at her or something, not 'Are you okay?' "Huh…"
His azure eyes went from her face to her bag, which she'd dropped during the collision. He bent down, picked it up and then offered her his other hand. She hesitated, still dumbfounded.
His frowned, concerned, "You are okay or what?"
"Oh Merlin, I have to see that again!" shouted Louis, he was leaning on Corvus Blackstone while nursing a stitch.
"Max, your face!" sputtered Corvus, doubling over. His face was as bright as a tomato. "Your face!"
Eloise saw a half-smirk spring up on Max's face. He sighed, turning his attention back to her.
"Are you going to hex me?" she blurted out the question.
"No," he said, looking at her funny. His hand was still out and finally she took it. With his help she got to her feet. He gave her her bag.
"Oi! They're getting away!" shouted Casius Warrington. The three Ravenclaws were trying to sneak off. Louis immediately snapped his attention back to his prisoners and aimed the jinx at them again.
"What is going on here? Stop this minute!" barked the familiar voice of Percy Weasley, prefect extraordinaire. He came stalking over with Susan and Hannah close behind, looking anxious. Fearlessly, Percy Weasley jumped into the middle of the Slytherin group and started deducting points like mad.
"Is that yours?" Max asked Eloise, pointing at a white ribbon on the ground. It was hers, it'd been the bow in her hair.
"Oh, yeah…"
Before she could do it herself, he swooped down and picked it up. Mesmerized, she silently watched him drop it into her open hand. "Sorry about running into you," he said calmly. He glanced over at his friends again, "See you around."
He left. Eloise stared at the spot where he'd stood. Did she just have an entire conversation with one of the Salesmen? Hannah and Susan came over.
"Are you okay?" asked Susan, gently wrapping her arm round her shoulders.
Eloise nodded, still speechless. She felt herself blush. He'd been… so... nice.
X
X
Before Signing the Dotted Line
Aboard the Hogwarts Express, heading back to London after her third year, Daphne Greengrass's heart was pounding. If anyone knew what she was doing, they'd think she was crazy. But no one suspected her.
No one knew about the hamster in her pocket with the letter.
The compartment door slid open. In walked Pansy Parkinson, Tracey Davis and Millicent Bulstrode, they were in the middle of a conversation – well actually Pansy was in the middle of talking and the others were listening. "He said we should keep in touch this summer," she gushed. "What do you think that means? Do you think I should wait until he writes me, or should I write him first? What do I say – oh hello, Daphne."
They sat down, without asking if the seats were available.
"I was just explaining how Draco wants me to keep in touch," Pansy boasted.
"That's nice."
"When do you think he started fancying you?" asked Tracey, twirling a strand of ash-blonde hair. Pansy made a show of rolling her eyes. When she wasn't looking, Tracey sent a wicked grin over at Daphne. Tracey had a way of feeding Pansy's ego and ridiculing her at the same time.
"There's hardly ever a defining moment about stuff like that," said Pansy. "But I did get a feeling something changed when I visited him at the Hospital Wing, the first time."
"I guess you owe that Hippogriff a thank you," drawled Daphne. Millicent already seemed to have fallen asleep. She tended to act preoccupied whenever they brought up boys.
"I don't owe that filthy beast anything." Unlike with Tracey, Pansy never missed a beat with Daphne. "What about you, Daphne? Who are you going to keep in touch with?"
"I don't know."
"Well since we've broken up MacDougal and Corvus Black, maybe you can try touching that," grinned Tracey. The girls laughed, Daphne smiled too.
"Yes," Pansy got serious again, "You've been talking to him a lot."
"Not a lot, like twice."
"But you've been counting," she pointed out.
"Only because you'll exaggerate otherwise." There was a pause, in which Pansy glared at Daphne. No matter how grumpy Pansy got with her, Daphne wasn't going to tell her a thing about her talks with Corvus Black.
"I don't see what's so attractive about him," said Pansy. "Sure, before when he was Corvus Blackstone, I could get it. But now – it's all very messy."
"But he's really rich now," Tracey reminded her. "He's estimated to be the richest underage wizard in Great Britain – inheriting both the Black and Stirling fortunes."
"Money isn't everything," such a statement was hard to believe from someone like Pansy. "Corvus and his mother are going to be in the tabloids every other day, it's really unclassy."
"Whatever's in the papers doesn't matter," said Daphne quietly. "He's exactly the same person he was when he went by Blackstone."
"Remember when he hexed Zacharias Smith?" asked Tracey, her eyes on Daphne. "He was defending your honor. And people say chivalry is dead!"
She smiled again, "Smith insulted him too…"
"We all know how it went down, Tracey," interjected Pansy. "Smith was insulting our House. Any Slytherin would've done the same."
"Millicent, what time is it?" Daphne asked the other, silent girl abruptly. The girl opened her eyes and looked at her wristwatch.
"Ten to one."
"I've got to go."
"Why? Where are you going?" asked Pansy, eying her as she stood up. Something wiggled in her pocket.
"Well, my sister, Astoria, she wanted to talk. I told her I'd go over to her."
"Right now?" frowned Tracey.
"My sister's weird, she's very particular about time, and schedules," she mumbled. "It's really weird."
"Wow, she sounds like a loser," sneered Pansy. Daphne would've liked to snap back with something, but she didn't have time. She left promptly.
...
...
Tah-dah! Filler chapter DONE! Hope you enjoyed them! I will be honest with you, I really rushed the "Stop Hitting Yourself" story, that's when Eloise Midgen falls for Max and I tried to make it funny and cutesy but then I got so tired... haha sorry
pls R&R!
