Chapter 5
Carina and Draco spent the next several days confined to the Malfoy property. The atmosphere was thick with fear and tension as Lucius and Narcissa moved uneasily about the house, having whispered conversations whenever they thought their children couldn't hear them.
On this particular morning, four days after the Quidditch World Cup and the riot, Carina had resigned herself to her bedroom, finally picking up her journal to write. The morning after they'd returned home so abruptly, she'd written the bare bones of the night's events, but couldn't bring herself to make speculations or insert any sort of emotion into the record. Now that time had passed, she should be able to collect her thoughts.
Still, as she sat at her desk, quill poised over the welcoming pages, she hesitated. She knew it was important to her mental health to dissect her emotions about that night, from the moment her father had come down the stairs in his black cloak to the moment he brought her home, nearly paralyzed by his own fear. But doing so would also mean confronting her flashback—her father's words, Draco's too-easy repetition of them, and the black book…
An unwelcome shudder skittered down her spine and the quill quivered in her fingers. She flicked it down irritably, pushing away from the desk with more force than was probably necessary.
"No!" she hissed vehemently, squeezing her eyes shut as though that would banish the memory from her consciousness.
A low whistle from the doorway cut through her thoughts and she jumped in her seat. She turned to see Draco leaning against her doorframe, one eyebrow raised questioningly.
"I've seen you get upset at those novels you read, but never at your own journal," he teased. "What did it do, bite you?"
A little of the tension seeped from Carina's shoulders and she rolled her eyes, attempting to brush off the embarrassing moment. "It's nothing. What are you doing?"
"I'm bored." To prove his point, Draco flopped gracelessly onto her bed. "Father won't even let me go flying with Blaise this afternoon."
"Tragic," Carina said dryly, crossing her arms. Draco tossed her an annoyed look, but it slipped away just as quickly as his eyebrows knitted together.
"Have you eaten anything?" he asked. "You look like the Grey Lady."
Carina glared at him. "Geez, I hope you don't treat all your friends like this when they're having a bad day."
"I know I can get away with it with you," he said cheekily. "So something is wrong then."
Damn. Carina glanced toward her window. "I just keep thinking about the Dark Mark at the World Cup and what it all means," she admitted. It wasn't the whole truth, but enough of the truth to draw Draco's attention away from another particular demon. Over on the bed, her brother straightened up and frowned at her.
"Me too. I don't understand why Father would run from it… He's always going on about how great everything was under the Dark Lord, but then this happens and he just… abandons the riot."
"They all abandoned the riot," Carina pointed out. "Think about it, Draco. If the Dark Lord is back somehow, most of his followers are either dead, rotting in Azkaban, or have denounced him to save their own skins. If the Dark Lord found out how many lies about being manipulated into the cause his followers have told, many of them would be put in their—" She swallowed hard against the words that still left a foul taste in her mouth. "Punished. That includes Father."
Draco's frown deepened at that. "Aunt Bella's still in Azkaban, isn't she? Because she was loyal to the Dark Lord."
Carina flinched at the mention of her aunt. They rarely spoke of her. "Yeah. I think she and Father still have bad blood between them since he chose to cover his allegiance to stay with us. Mother once told me Aunt Bella fancied herself a martyr and couldn't understand why Father wasn't the same."
Draco studied a pattern on her duvet, still frowning. "Do you think he's back?"
Carina considered for a long moment, then slowly shook her head. "No. Father was one of his biggest supporters, so it makes sense that he would be among the first to know. If he knew the Dark Lord had returned, he wouldn't have been so spooked by the Dark Mark."
They fell into silence as more questions circulated. Carina was still trying to puzzle out the motivation behind somebody casting the Dark Mark without having killed anybody, when Draco spoke up again.
"So, are you going to tell me what you saw that night when you zoned out?"
Carina tensed under his scrutiny. She knew he'd bring it up again sooner or later—he always did.
"No," she answered, careful to keep her tone neutral. "I haven't had time to work through what I saw yet."
Draco raised his eyebrows. "Really? You've been locked up in your room all morning. Your textbooks still have dust on them since before we left. What do you mean you haven't had time?"
She wrinkled her nose in annoyance. "Have you considered that maybe I don't want to talk about it?"
"Is it about the boy you like?"
"What? No! What boy?" Inwardly, Carina cringed at her hasty reaction. It was all the confirmation her brother needed.
Draco snickered. "I knew it!"
Her cheeks flushed and her temper flared. "It wasn't about him, okay? Why on earth would I zone out over a boy in the middle of all that? He was the furthest thing from my mind."
Something in his expression flickered. "Is this about that summer?"
Carina blinked, reeling as though she'd been slapped. That summer brought too many images to the forefront of her mind—blank pages that soaked up ink like a sponge, morning shifting to afternoon in the blink of an eye, an all too handsome face with something hidden behind his eyes—and she squeezed her eyes shut to banish them.
"I've told you I don't want to talk about that," she warned through gritted teeth. When at last she opened her eyes, the emotional effort of pushing the memories back into a mental vault had exhausted her and she slumped, unladylike, in her seat. "Please."
Draco watched her worriedly, having straightened as she fought her internal battle. "Why won't you talk to me about it?" he pushed cautiously. "It's been two years."
Because it's the one thing I'm most ashamed of, she thought to herself bitterly. "Because it was my first real heartbreak, okay?" It was, again, not entirely a lie, but miles from the truth.
As she'd hoped, Draco shifted uncomfortably. He knew little about her romantic life, mainly because he didn't want to know who Carina fancied. Unfortunately, Carina had worked herself into a corner, caught between two topics of conversation she'd desperately like to avoid—that summer, and her flashback. Before she could think of a way to redirect the conversation, Draco spoke again.
"Did he… hurt you? Like… like that?" He wouldn't look at her, instead studying his tattoo for her reaction, and Carina crinkled her brow in confusion.
"Like… oh! No! No, it was nothing like that," she assured him quickly, flushing crimson. "I'd never even kissed him."
The relief of her statement appeared to relax the tension in his shoulders and he glanced up at her.
"Well, if anyone ever did, I'd use an Unforgivable Curse in a heartbeat," he promised. The sheer determination on the fourteen-year-old's face both endeared and unnerved her.
He's still a kid, she reminded herself. He doesn't understand the consequences of the Unforgivables yet.
Still, his devotion coaxed a smile to Carina's face. "That's why you're in Slytherin, little brother."
Draco scoffed. "Where else would I be?"
"I don't know, sometimes I think you'd make a fair Hufflepuff," she teased. "You're ever so loyal!"
That earned her a pillow hurled at her face, which she deflected easily enough with her arm, laughing. Their conversation eased into milder waters, safer topics, and after a little while Carina nearly forgot her self-assigned task of introspection.
But, as all good things must, their time ended with an exaggerated grumble from Draco's stomach. He glared, appalled, at the offending region before leaving Carina to her own thoughts in search of something to eat.
As the door clicked shut behind him, Carina turned back to her journal. It lay patiently, waiting for her to utilize the blank spaces. With a heavy sigh, she picked up her quill.
Dear Journal,
I hesitate to write, though I know I must for my own sanity. I need to confront the events of the riot, and to do so, also confront my flashback. I would say I'd rather face a boggart than this, but there's no true difference. It's funny, really. Nobody would understand why mine takes the shape of a little, black book…
Several days passed and the tension in the house eased without a whisper of the Dark Lord having returned. Less than two weeks later, Carina and Draco bade their parents goodbye on platform 9¾ and boarded the Hogwarts Express together. Less than a minute after that, they separated. Draco headed down the train with Blaise, and Carina headed to the Prefects carriage to meet their new Head Boy and Girl.
As she stepped through the door, she nodded to the other prefects and her partner, Alexander Willoughby. She liked Willoughby well enough, and enjoyed his casual conversation and easy silences when they did rounds. She knew a fair few of their classmates had started a betting pool on when they would start dating—none of them knew that Willoughby had taken her on one date last year, and she had politely turned down a second. She simply wasn't romantically interested in him.
No, certainly not Willoughby. Her eyes drifted from one person to the next, and she allowed herself a small smile when she recognized the honey-brown hair, strong jaw, easy demeanor, and yellow-and-black-striped tie. Cedric waved to her and she offered a friendly smile as she picked her way over to the seat beside Willoughby.
Not long after all the prefects had gathered, the Head Boy and Girl stood, introduced themselves, and explained the duties of a prefect to the fifth years. Patrolling assignments for the train ride were given, along with their schedule for rounds the coming term, and they were released.
As they always did, Carina and Willoughby made polite small talk with the other prefects as they filed out, then caught up with one another as they patrolled. A few minutes into their journey, Carina paused at a door filled with five or six underclassmen with the tell-tale black ties of new students. She knocked gently on the glass, then slid open the door to their compartment with a smile.
"Hello," she greeted them as Willoughby stood at her shoulder. "My name is Carina Malfoy, and this is Alexander Willoughby. We're prefects for Slytherin House. Are you settling in alright?"
A nervous pause hung in the air, then one of the girls by the window nodded. Carina noted with some interest she was one of a set of identical twins, sporting ivory skin and chestnut locks of hair.
"We're alright," she said, straightening her back the tiniest bit. A small smile curved Carina's lips at the gesture, and her eyes settled on a book lying in the other twin's lap. A heading at the top of the page told her all she needed to know.
"I see you're reading Hogwarts: A History," she commented lightly. "What do you think of it?"
The second twin's entire face brightened. "It's amazing!" she gushed. "I've been reading up on the four Houses, and it's fascinating which traits tend to be grouped together. Does it have something to do with learning styles?"
Carina cocked her head to one side. "You know, I hadn't thought of it that way, but it's possible. Most Hufflepuffs I know seem to learn best by reading, but Gryffindors and Ravenclaws prefer a more hands-on approach," she mused. "And most of us Slytherins tend to thrive on competition."
"That's your house, Ava," the girl with the book said, bumping her shoulder fondly against her sister's.
"I take it you have a competitive streak?" Carina ventured, and the girl straightened a little more in her seat.
"Just a bit," she admitted, quirking her lips in a smile. "I'm older by three minutes, so I have to stay ahead!"
The other students giggled at that. Carina's smile grew at the girl's tenacity—it would serve her well.
"So you have your eye on Slytherin House then?"
Ava shrugged. "Maybe, I'm not sure." She glanced up with a familiar glint in her eye. "Is it true that most Slytherins turn evil once they leave school?"
A heavy, uncomfortable silence settled on the compartment as each of the underclassmen turned their attention to Carina and Willoughby. The latter, Carina noticed, gaped like a fish as he opened and closed his mouth struggling to respond. She sighed.
"That," she began carefully, "is something of a difficult topic to navigate. I'm well aware that many of my House alumni have tainted the Slytherin name with evil acts, but I believe that's the darker side of ambition. It's one of the driving traits of many Slytherins, and a great many of them had ambitions to power. Taking shortcuts and committing unlawful acts helped them to realize their ambitions in a way that harmed others—in other words, their ambition got the better of them.
"The way I see it, people like the Dark Lord gave Slytherin a bad reputation. I'd like to think I'm not foreordained to be evil simply because I aspire to achieve greatness. Perhaps my ambitions lie in publishing a book, for example. I don't believe that's an inherently evil desire, and my drive to accomplish that goal serves me well. In Slytherin House I've learned skills to achieve my goals and focus my ambition on things that matter."
Ava and her sister considered for a few seconds before nodding their understanding.
"I wouldn't mind being in Slytherin," Ava decided. "I want to learn everything there is to know about magic, and I want to be a magizoologist one day!" Then her excited expression faded. "But I'll probably end up in Ravenclaw with you, Alya."
Carina cocked her head to one side, brow furrowed. "Why is that?"
"Well, according to the book," Alya spoke up, flicking through the pages, "muggle-borns aren't allowed in Slytherin." Alya glanced a little sadly at her sister, who frowned at the book's pages.
Carina's heart sank a little. "I… suppose you're right. Traditionally, Slytherin is comprised of pureblood or half-blood witches and wizards."
"I'm sure you'll all be excellent assets to whichever Houses you're Sorted into," Willoughby finally spoke up, offering a smile. "We certainly hope to see some of you at the Slytherin table tonight."
After answering a few more questions—most of them less awkward than the twins'—Carina and Willoughby bade the first years goodbye and continued their rounds.
"It's a shame about Ava being muggle-born," Willoughby mused. "She would have done well in Slytherin."
Carina nodded, troubled. "Even if she is Sorted into Ravenclaw, I doubt she'll be able to reach her full potential with them. They're too… distractible. They bounce from one thing to the next according to whatever catches their fire and fancy, learning whatever they can about their passions and completely forgetting their schoolwork."
Willoughby nodded his agreement. "Like I said, it's a pity. I'd have liked to see her in our House."
Carina sighed, opting to change the subject for the rest of their journey.
The remaining hours of the trip passed more or less uneventfully, though they did have to confiscate a number of joke items before they'd even reached the school. No doubt several things had slipped past them, but that would only be because the older students were cleverer about hiding their contraband.
At last the gleaming lights of Hogsmeade and the castle loomed through the darkness, and Carina and Willoughby went through the routine of directing students to either the boats or the carriages. Carina was starving by the time she finally reached the Great Hall, finding Lyra among the crowd.
"How was the trip?" the dark-haired girl asked as Carina settled next to her.
"About the same as every year."
"Of course."
Lyra hadn't missed the way Carina's eyes swept over the other students, particularly the Hufflepuffs two tables away.
"He's near the front," Lyra offered helpfully, gesturing. Carina's cheeks pinkened a little as her eyes landed on Cedric, who chatted with friends he hadn't seen all summer. She forced her eyes away, grateful when a three-legged stool and an old hat were carried to the front of the Great Hall. Chatter ceased as the dozens of first-years were led in through a side door, and all eyes fell on the newcomers.
"Oh, look," Lyra said mildly. "More twins."
Carina picked out the matching chestnut heads of hair as Ava and Alya filed in side by side. Alya, she noticed, fidgeted nervously though her eyes betrayed her curiosity as they flickered from the enchanted ceiling, floating candles, and architecture to the students, teachers, and ghosts. Ava, on the other hand, walked tall with her shoulders squared and eyes fixed on the Sorting Hat lying limply on the stool.
Carina kept her eyes on the twins as the Sorting Hat began to sing, a smile creeping across her lips at their awe. She couldn't say why exactly she was so invested in these two girls, but as the Sorting began, she grew impatient for their names.
There were probably about sixty students waiting to be Sorted, and slowly the list dwindled as names were called by the Deputy Headmistress and Houses were bellowed by the Sorting Hat.
"RAVENCLAW!"
"GRYFFINDOR!"
"SLYTHERIN!"
"GRYFFINDOR!"
"HUFFLEPUFF!"
With each new student added to a House, the entire space erupted in applause and hollering, welcoming the new students warmly—except for Slytherin's students. Their reception from the Slytherin table was more boisterous than any of the others with one goal in mind—to drown out the boos and hisses echoing from the other three houses.
Each time a student joined their ranks, Carina's heart clenched a little more. As thrilled as she was to see new faces, the confusion and hurt at their reception was painful to watch. With every new name, she cheered louder and even took to pounding the table with her peers. They needed to know they were valued, welcomed in this school despite what others thought of them.
Carina needed them to know they weren't evil.
Her throat began to ache and rasp as the pool of students dwindled. She continually turned her eyes to the twins, certain every single time they would be next beneath the hat.
As it happened, their names came right at the end. Go figure.
"Walsh, Alya!" Professor McGonagall announced, and the girl startled. Ava offered her an encouraging smile as she stumbled to the stool. The hat drooped over her head, and a beat later, the torn brim opened wide.
"RAVENCLAW!" it hollered proudly.
Both sisters beamed as Alya leaped from the stool, handed the hat to the old professor, and darted eagerly to join the uproarious Ravenclaw table. Even Carina and Willoughby cheered for her, smiling.
"Walsh, Ava!"
Ava, the last student to be Sorted, strode purposefully to the stool, casting a smile at her sister before the hat slid down over her curls.
A moment of silence. Then another. Carina could just make out a frown on Ava's face, her lips twisting uncertainly as the quiet stretched onward. Then—
"SLYTHERIN!"
Carina blinked, her jaw dropping in time with Willoughby's and Ava's as Professor McGonagall plucked the hat from her head. A moment later she joined the applause, cheering louder than most of the others as Ava walked dazedly to join them. A quick glance at Alya confirmed both unbridled excitement and forlorn sadness adorning her features. Carina wondered if they'd ever been separated before.
She looked across the table at Willoughby, who met her gaze with uncertainty and beckoned her closer.
"Isn't she muggle-born?" he asked her quietly, careful not to draw attention from those around them.
"I think so," Carina confirmed.
"Then how did she…?" he trailed off, as at a loss for words as she was.
Carina shook her head in bemusement. "I don't know. Let's just—don't say anything to anyone just yet, okay?"
He raised his eyebrows at her, but their two years of working together had built some measure of trust between them. With a reluctant nod, he settled back and turned his gaze toward the Headmaster, who had just risen to give his Start of Term speech.
Carina barely heard what he said, peering down at Ava, who sat facing the Ravenclaw table in stunned silence. A muggle-born in Slytherin was unheard of, and yet… there she was.
Worry clenched her gut just then. Slytherin culture dictated that muggle-borns weren't meant to be at this school. If their Housemates found out, Ava could be in for the worst seven years of her young life. Unbidden, a fierce protectiveness rose in Carina's breast.
No. There was enough hate towards Slytherins as it was. She wouldn't let it divide her own House—not if she had anything to say about it.
A/N: So there were a couple of things I wanted to address with this chapter, starting with a bit of background for Carina's characterization. Being raised a Malfoy, most would expect her to be pretty much a female Draco, but there are experiences and elements that occur previous to the events of this story to explain some of the un-Malfoy-ish tendencies she shows in this and the previous chapters. This will be expounded more upon in future chapters.
Next, let's discuss the attitude towards Slytherin House that we have seen throughout the books. There's a tumblr post that I can't track down now, but it talks about how the treatment of Slytherins during their years at Hogwarts probably contributed to their bad reputations. It discussed how from the get-go, these kids are booed and hissed and told they're evil monsters, and so they become what they're told they must be.
I wanted to highlight this concept and the ramifications that come with treatment like this, which will also be addressed further in future chapters.
As always, I would love to hear your thoughts on the story so far! Thank you for reading!
