For a moment, Sirius Black was not the topic of discussion at Hogwarts. For a moment, it was Harry Potter, the dementors, and how he fainted. The way Draco told the story at the Slytherin table during the feast that night, a person would believe that he saw the event firsthand, but I knew better. Draco has always been an embellisher so I had to wonder if Harry Potter had even fainted at all.
Glancing towards the Gryffindor table now, I scan the faces and backs of heads until my eyes meet George Weasley's. We stare for just a second before his smirk breaks and he gives me a halfhearted wave. I lift my brow in question and twist my face into a small grimace of distaste before dropping my eyes back to my plate of food.
"Your cousin's kind of a prick," Sebastian mutters under his breath as Draco once again recalls the dementors. This time one of them made it into his train compartment and he fought it out with ease.
"Trust me, this time next month he'll be talking about how he met Sirius Black face to face in Diagonal Alley" I laugh and Sebastian grins, eyeing Draco with a look of disbelief.
As Draco continues to talk, my eyes begin to wander once more. I have always loved coming to the Great Hall for meals. There was something so much warmer about being here. We had family dinner's nightly, but I had never felt closer to people than I did when we had dinner in the Great Hall.
"How do you think Care Magical Creatures will go with that Hagrid fellow?" Sebastian asks. I glance at him curiously and can tell that he is genuinely curious. I know what Hera would say if she heard him. A clueless oaf teaching a useless subject, but I personally and secretly enjoyed Care of Magical Creatures and wanted to hope for the best.
"I'm unsure," I respond in an attempt to be careful of my words. "There seem to be many students who like him."
"Mainly Gryffindors," Sebastian agrees as if he knows what I am trying to say without saying it. Sebastian Hawthorne has always been like me. A pure blood Slytherin, with a tendency to rebel against the high standards of our families. Sebastian even pushed the boundary further than I dared to tread and decided to take Muggle studies the past two years.
I find my eyes trailing the Gryffindor table once more, pausing briefly on George Weasley who is laughing at something his friend has said.
"Well I've heard about Hagrid," another voice chimes in from a few seats down the table. Peregrine Derrick smiles charmingly in my direction, "Didn't have a chance to talk on the train, Lenora. How was your summer?"
"Fine, thank you." I respond with a curt nod before asking, "What have you heard about Hagrid?"
"We all know that he was expelled." Sebastian adds with a quick disgruntled glance.
"Well, he also enjoys rather dangerous magical creatures." Peregrine continues without even a glance in Sebastian's direction. His heavy brown eyes are focused so intently on me I feel an uncomfortable blush set in on my cheeks. "Heard he gambled for a dragon, been breeding his own misfit crossbreeds."
When I say nothing Peregrine continues, "Won't be long until the whole school falls to rubbish. Dumbledore doesn't know what he's doing."
Luckily, Dumbledore himself takes this moment to end the feast. Our empty plates clear with a wave of his wand and the Great Hall falls into a hushed silence. "It is an honor to welcome you all back for another year at Hogwarts. Before you head to your beds, I want to impose these words of wisdom to you all."
"There are many changes here at Hogwarts this year -from new teachers to an unfamiliar presence of new guards. Regardless of these changes, I must express to you the importance of building new friendships with those around you. Hogwarts is a home for so many, continue to ground yourself in its floors and branch out to one another," Dumbledore continues with a small smile. Even from where I am sitting towards the back of the Great Hall I can make out the distinct twinkle of his eyes behind his glasses.
At his words, my eyes pull me towards the Gryffindor table, suddenly so curious of George Weasley. Once again, our eyes catch each other and once again he smirks with a small wave. Without being able to stop myself, I feel the corners of my lips turn up into a small smile in return. The notion is so small, should have been unrecognizable from where he is sitting, but this slight response seems to catch his attention because he cocks his eyebrow in curiosity.
"When we are faced with sudden darkness, in a world of the new and the unknown, we can lean on each other for happiness," Dumbledore's voice hangs somewhere in the air. "Happiness can be found in even the darkest of times, if one only remember to turn on the light."
Our eyes linger on each other, until George Weasley nods to me as we are dismissed for bed. Before I can register what is happening, Sebastian is pulling me up by the arm. "Lenora," he grumbles "we have to get the first years."
"What?" I ask, "Oh! Oh! First years!" I call taking the cue from the Gryffindor prefect who is already leading their students away. "Slytherin first years, here, please!"
Sebastian helps round up the ten new Slytherin first years. Five boys. Five girls. "The common room is in the dungeons," Sebastian explains from the front of the group. "It sounds bad," he laughs, watching a few of their faces twist. "But I promise, it's just as cozy as anywhere else."
I can't help but laugh at this. I have never heard a person describe our common room as cozy. One of the smaller first years suddenly stops, bending over to tie her shoes. I pause and wave Sebastian on. The group continues down the hall and I watch as the first year fumbles her laces.
"Do you need help?" I ask, taking out my pendant watch to check the time. It was getting late and I can feel the heavy sleep playing with my eyes.
"N- no," she stutters. Slowly standing to face me. There are wet tears streaming down her face that she wipes away with a frustrated sigh.
"Are you... you alright?" I ask awkwardly and the small girl takes a shuttering breath. She nods in response.
"It's scary," I continue, trying to remember what it felt like to be eleven. The first time away from home. I had cried on the train and Hera had pulled me aside and told me how embarrassing I was. How mother would be disappointed. "I still get nervous."
This catches the girl's attention and she glances at me curiously. "My mom - my mom told me that I needed to be brave." She tells me.
"I know," I sigh. "My mom told me the same thing, but it's still scary. It's going to be okay though. I know Slytherin has a - reputation, but - well, it will be okay."
"What's your name?" I ask as we turn the corner and begin to catch up with the rest of our Slytherin first years.
"Clara Dolohov" the young girl responds. Dolohov. I don't think she could be Antonin's daughter due to her age, so she must be his niece or a distantly related cousin.
"I'm Lenora Black," I tell her and she nods.
"I know, I've met you at a dinner party before at the Malfoy Manor." She smiles and wipes her eyes once more before we reach the group. Sebastian is just explaining how to enter the common room when we approach.
I stare at the back of her head as she rejoins the first years and wonder how many other daughters of Death Eaters have stood in this hallway. Cried from the lack of affection we so unknowingly missed at home until arriving at Hogwarts. My father never had admitted it and maybe he truly was never a Death Eater, but I held my silent suspicions close. The company that was kept in our inner circle have always been too pure. It was hard to deny any relation to You-Know-Who, especially being related to Sirius Black and Bellatrix Lestrange.
I always tried to ignore the idea, pretended that if I did not think too much of the possibility that my father could be a Death Eater, than the idea held little truth. But, then there were others, like Hera and Draco, who wore this possibility like some badge of honor that only some elite few could earn.
I wondered where Clara Dolohov would stand when she became my age. Would she begin to question the life her family chose for her or would she revel in the purity of our lives and leave the difficult questions for someone else to find the truth to?
George Weasley's smile suddenly breaks my thought and I feel that immense shame that sometimes eats away at me late at night for what felt like no reason. I had never done anything but be born into the twisted and gnarled branches of the Black family tree. The shame was not mine to carry, but there it sat, heavy on my shoulders.
Dumbledore's words hung silently in the air now as I ushered the first years into the common room; in a world of the new and the unknown, we can lean on each other for happiness. I held onto George Weasley's small smile for the rest of the night. Why he had captured my curiosity so quickly was beyond my own understanding, but I found myself wondering about him for the rest of the night.