I do not own Harry Potter's world - JK Rowling does.
Better Be Slytherin
I
It Had Better be Slytherin!
Eleven year old Pansy Parkinson had just said goodbye to her mum and dad. She was lugging her heavy trunk down the corridor of the Hogwarts Express, looking for someone she knew (which were only a few) or an unoccupied compartment. After looking for a while, she got tired of dragging around her trunk, so she pushed open the door of a compartment full of boys who looked about her own age. They all turned to look at her when she stepped into the compartment, and stopped talking, sniggering and joking around. Pansy, confident as she was, figured it was best to introduce herself properly.
"Hello boys, my name is Pansy Parkinson and I'll be making Slytherin," she said in a nonchalant tone – and then she added, "And I'm going to sit in here."
She must have radiated confidence and power, even though she was only eleven years old. Since nobody replied her for a few second she took this time to acknowledge the boys in the room. There were five of them, all wearing black robes, just like her. A black boy with slanting eyes watched her disdainfully and sniggered. There were two fat boys about twice Pansy's size on both ends who looked stupid and troll-like. They both simply looked like they were set to zero, as if they did not have an opinion of their own. A small colourless scrawny boy with short greyish brown hair was simply sitting looking out the window, as if he did not care. The last boy was pale and had white-blonde hair and a pointy face. He locked glances with Pansy, his lip curling in a superior manner.
"Parkinson, you said? You're Graham Parkinson's daughter?" the blond boy asked.
Pansy pushed out her chin slightly in a defiant matter when the boys started sniggering. The blond boy exchanged a glance with one of the fat ones.
"What's so funny?" snapped Pansy. The blond one turned back to her and looked satisfied.
"My father's told me about your dad – I know who you are," he said smugly.
"And that makes you feel well special, does it?" said Pansy cheekily. The boys started sniggering again. "Ooh, she's cocky," said one of the troll-like boys, with his mouth full of pumpkin pasty.
Pansy felt satisfied with herself. The blond boy on the other hand did not look as content – Pansy figured he was not used to people giving him comments like that. He forced a cool smile. "Indeed, Vincent. No, I think we've actually met before, with our parents," the boy was once again addressing Pansy.
Pansy nodded, but could not help thinking that this boy probably thought a bit too high of himself - who spoke like that at their age? He addressed the troll-like one who liked to eat, but kept his eyes at Pansy intensely. She did not avert her eyes even though she felt like she shrunk a bit. She reckoned that was his way of testing her – like he did not want to be friends with some sissy. Well, lucky for her then, she was not just a silly little girl. She was tough. Thinking back on it, Pansy thought that that was the moment where Malfoy had gotten his respect for her, because when he opened his mouth next, his tone was completely changed.
"D'you want a pumpkin pasty? Greg's certainly had enough for today."
Pansy nodded, tiny smile on her face. The blond boy motioned for the one with the slanting eyes to move so that Pansy could sit next to him. He seemed like some sort of leader, or that was the feeling she got – even though she did not know whether the boys all knew each other from before or if they had just met. Pansy had not liked the pale boy at first but he was improving in her eyes. She hid her smirk as the one with the slanting eyes narrowed them and moved to the side. Pansy settled down next to the blond boy, who gave her a pumpkin pasty and said: "I'm Malfoy, by the way, Draco Malfoy."
"Oh, all right." She was sitting dangling her legs and nibbling her pumpkin pasty. Malfoy pointed at the troll-like ones. "That's Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle for you. And that's Theodore Nott." He pointed at the scrawny one. "And this is Blaise Zabini." He nodded towards the black boy. They all gave her a nod or mumbled "hiya" when he introduced them.
"We're all planning on making Slytherin as well," declared Malfoy.
"Brilliant!"
"Yeah, my family's been in Slytherin for generation back as long as anyone can remember," Malfoy bragged. Pansy giggled enthusiastically. What a coincidence!
"Oh, mine too!"
"Your dad works at the Ministry, doesn't he?" Malfoy then asked her, referring to the earlier mentioning of Mr Parkinson. "My father does quite a bit of business round there."
"Oh, does he? Yes, he's head of International Magical Office of Law, in the department of International Magical Cooperation," she replied proudly, quite recently having memorised the title. She noticed Malfoy's eyebrows lifting slightly.
"What does your dad do?" she hastily asked.
"I'm not quite sure, actually," he replied, frowning slightly.
And then they got talking. Well, Malfoy was the most active one, probably. He babbled on about random things, and they joked around and suddenly Pansy realized she did not dislike him at all anymore. Pansy was being cheeky, but he seemed to like that. And they talked about chocolate frog cards they had collected, The Weird Sisters' new song, Hogwarts (Malfoy drawled about what his father thought of Dumbledore), and about Slytherin House, since everybody in there planned to become Slytherins. And then they somehow came to the matter of Harry Potter.
"I heard he's on the train! D'you know if that's true?" said Pansy excitedly.
Malfoy frowned. "But he's a baby."
Pansy started laughing, and Zabini sniggered.
"He was a baby eleven years ago when the Dark Lord tried to kill him, but you can't expect him to remain a baby for eleven years, can you! He's grown up since then, of course."
Malfoy's cheeks turned slightly pink, he looked a bit irritated. Pansy smirked.
"Blimey, Vince, Greg, did you hear that? Harry Potter!"
In a small, colourless and sparingly decorated bedroom with faded wallpaper, a boy with an age of about fifteen slept under covers that were once white but now more beige. Besides the bed, in the room there were a desk full of papers, a half-full bookshelf with mostly books and some various objects, and also a set of joke products with Weasley's Wizard Wheezes written on them. A simple light bulb was hung from the ceiling, and in between the door frame and the shelf, there was a pile of books on the floor. On the window pane, a fat, greyish brown toad sat – asleep – just as the owner of the room.
Theodore Nott woke up to pale September-light shining in through his window. His gangly bed creaked as he sat up on the edge of it and yawned. He hastily looked to the window, where Margaret sat on the window pane. Outside the sky was hidden in a layer of white. He saw dry grass and some trees by the horizon, but other than that, it was empty, except for a few sheep walking about in the meadow below the house.
Theodore glanced at his trunk on the floor, half pushed in under the bed. It was empty. He had forgotten to pack his things the previous night, which he had planned to do. He glanced at the clock on the nightstand and discovered that it was not as late as he had thought, so he would have time to pack this morning before getting to the train.
Theodore reckoned his father was at work, or away on business, because he noticed the house was empty and quiet as he grabbed a set of robes from a wardrobe hidden behind the door and got dressed. The old wooden floor creaked when he exited his room and headedfor the kitchen.
Theodore's room was at the back of the small one-story house, and to get to the hall or kitchen, he had to go through the sitting room, a grey and dusty room that looked like it was not used commonly; a worn-out sofa, an armchair that looked hard, and a fireplace was the only furniture in the room. The walls were filled with bookshelves, which almost exclusively contained books with dark backs. Compared to his fellow house mates, Theodore reckoned, he was living quite simply.
He went to the small kitchen and took out bread and pumpkin juice from the pantry. He sat down by the table and spread some butter on a piece of bread, poured himself a glass of pumpkin juice and had breakfast in silence.
He returned to his room and packed his few belongings and some sets of robes into his trunk and then he Flooed to the rather shabby wizarding pub the Leaky Cauldron, leaving Norfolk hastily behind, and made his way to King's Cross by foot. He knew the streets of London quite well – he usually walked about there in the summer - thus he had no problem finding the train station.
Even though the smoke-filled platform was crowded with other students and their families, Theodore simply pushed his way through and stepped onto the fiery red and whistling train. He quickly found an empty compartment where he settled down and looked out the window, wanting the train to just leave London. He wished all the other students would not take so much time saying goodbye to their parents.
Pansy Parkinson pushed open the door to the compartment Draco Malfoy, Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle were occupying and stepped inside with a smug expression on her face. "Hello, boys."
The three turned and looked at her. She noted that Vincent's eyes lingered on her chest for a moment, eyebrows slightly raised. Gregory muttered a simple "hiya" and returned to his comics. Malfoy immediately leaned his head slightly to one side and smirked at her. "All right?"
His eyes travelled down to her chest, where her prefect-badge was.
Malfoy, who had an identical copy of the badge on his own robe, gave a sort-of laugh and exclaimed: "I knew you'd get it! Let me see…" He beckoned her towards him. She smiled contently. She had not doubted for one second that he had become the second prefect in their house. Malfoy was the absolute favourite student of their Head of House, Snape, not to mention that the latter was long-time friends with Draco's father, who suitably enough was on the school board. Given that, it wasn't surprising that Pansy had been chosen, as, in Snape's words "Mr. Malfoy and Miss Parkinson cooperate nicely and have all the right morals".
The compartment door slid close behind her as she went to sit next to Malfoy, who immediately fixed her badge where it was on her chest. "We're going to do prefect duties together now, just imagine it; we can boss everyone around... I knew you'd get it..."
"Yeah, it'll be brilliant."
Malfoy was now done re-attaching the badge onto her robe and had looked up at her.
"Do you reckon Potter's got one?" he asked.
"Probably. He is Dumbledore's pet, after all."
Malfoy looked away now; he looked like he was thinking, as he mumbled: "You're probably right, yeah... He's The-Boy-Who-Lived – `course he had to get picked."
He looked cross for a moment, and Pansy felt the urge to either try to cheer him up or mock him about it. Before she could do either, though, his face lit up into a big smirk, with his eyes still focused on something on the floor before them. "But if he doesn't get picked..."
Pansy looked at him and started smirking as well.
"Then I'll be able to take points from him, won't I?" continued Malfoy, as if he'd just found a way to really improve his life. "And then he wouldn't be able to say anything back because I'd get him detention for being disrespectful towards a prefect." On that last remark, he popped out his chest a bit, looking satisfied.
Malfoy turned to her slowly and they looked at each other. They both started grinning, and Pansy gave a shrill laugh.
Encouraged by the conversation, Draco decided to pay a little visit to one Harry Potter as soon as Pansy had sauntered off back to the compartment her gang of girls were occupying. Making his way along the corridor of the train with Crabbe and Goyle by his sides, he began smirking, thinking of what to say that would make Potter and his friends the most aggravated. Checking every compartment on the way, he gave a snort-laugh when they finally found what they were looking for, and pushed the sliding doors open.
However, before he had time to say anything, Potter snapped: "What do you want?"
It slightly surprised him – had Potter become cocky over the summer? He probably just wanted to show off for the Mudblood Granger or the youngest Weasley spawn.
"Manners, Potter, or I'll have to give you a detention," Draco countered. "You see, I, unlike you, have been made a prefect, which means that I, unlike you, have the power to hand out punishments."
"Yeah," said Potter, "but you, unlike me, are a git, so get out and leave us alone."
Potter's pathetic little friends began laughing at once. Draco sneered. Was that the best he could come up with – "git"?
"Tell me, how does it feel being second-best to Weasley, Potter?" he asked, and immediately knowing he had won.
"Get out!" The Mudblood rose. With one last mischievous look at Potter, he left the compartment, followed by Crabbe and Goyle, feeling more pleased than ever. There were certainly perks of this Prefect's badge, Draco thought.
The sky outside of the compartment window grew darker and darker as Theodore read today's copy of The Daily Prophet. Everything was at peace when he did this, sitting alone with just his toad, Margaret, in the dimly lit compartment, with the landscape rushing past outside the window. He knew toads had gone out of fashion years ago – all the other students had cats or owls – but he liked her. The comfortable seat, the muffled sounds of other students' voices from the neighbouring compartments, the dimmed light – it made him sleepy.
The newspaper slowly slid through his grip as his eyes closed. But then...
BANG! All of a sudden the compartment door was roughly pushed open, making Theodore jump. He was now staring up at the tall and sturdy Blaise Zabini who had began pushing his trunk inside.
"You mind if I sit here, mate?" he said, with a voice that had gotten much deeper over the summer – but he did not wait for an answer.
Theodore sat up more straight and collected himself, rubbing his face.
"All the other compartments are full," commented Zabini, as he slung his trunk up on the luggage rack without any problems. "Well, except for Malfoy's – but who'd want to sit in there? I mean the company'd make me want to hurt myself."
Zabini sank down on the seat opposite Theodore, who snorted.
"Pansy, eh?" said Theodore in a knowing sort of tone.
"Crabbe and Goyle as well," sniggered Zabini. Theodore wrinkled his nose.
There was a silence. He looked out the window.
The train made a sudden turn, making the lanterns swing and their trunks move slightly. English countryside whooshed past outside the window. Theodore could see himself and the whole scene inside of the compartment reflected in the dark window glass.
"Well..." said Theodore after a moment of silence. He felt he needed to keep a conversation going, even though Zabini seemed relaxed and like it did not bother him that they were not speaking. "Had a nice holiday?"
Zabini half-rolled his eyes, as if to shrug. "I suppose."
Zabini wasn't really one to share personal experiences. He spoke when spoken to, mostly.
Theodore did not really mind the silence either. He usually did not like socialising very much. He did not really have friends, if he thought about it. The closest thing he had to a friend was probably Zabini, and that was only because they respected each other in some way. Theodore respected him, at least, and he figured the feeling was mutual, because otherwise Zabini would have been much cooler towards him – ignoring him like he ignored nearly the rest of the school.
And Draco Malfoy – Theodore was not exactly friends with him, either. He had been over for dinner at the Malfoys' a few times with his father when he was younger – but that was only because their fathers were "business acquaintances". But Theodore had never really liked Malfoy – he was spoilt and rude and lived in a big manor and he had had all the toys Theodore had wanted back then. These days, Theodore felt about the same way towards Mafoy. He was a little drama queen, and the people he surrounded himself with were not any better.
Pansy Parkinson, for example – she was a ditzy cow. She was the obvious leader of a small gang of girls in their House and liked to mock people. Theodore did not like her very much. And Crabbe and Goyle – they were just brainless followers – i.e. unpleasant.
They did not speak for the rest of the train ride.
Finally, when the sky was dark blue and scattered with stars, the train slowed down and stopped at Hogsmeade station. There was a slight chaos when they grabbed their trunks and pushed their way out into the already crowded corridor, but Theodore could simply follow in Zabini's tracks, and they were soon out on the platform.
Pansy was shivering in the cold. Even though the platform was packed with students, there was a biting cold in the air. The wind went through the branches of the trees nearby the station, creating a scratching noise. When she thought about it, it was actually oddly cold for this time of year. The atmosphere was high, though – everyone was excited to get up to the castle.
"Where's Gryffindor Golden Boy, then?" Malfoy had teased Ron Weasley as soon as he saw him, on the Prefects' meeting on the train. Weasley had simply rolled his eyes. "Well, congrats, Weasley" Malfoy commented hastily, "on finally beating Potter in something, that is." It had made Pansy laugh loudly.
All the students were trying to get a carriage – the first ones had just arrived. Malfoy, who was a bit further ahead, was pushing some tiny Hufflepuffs out of his way. Pansy followed him, pushing through the crowd but finding herself having problems. She lugged her trunk, and some brat got in the way so she had to stop, which caused Vincent to walk straight in to her. She sent him a glare and straightened up.
Vincent and Gregory were loads bigger than her, so they pushed through the crowd and made way. Pansy climbed into the carriage and was terribly grateful for the warmth inside.
The ride up to Hogwarts was pleasant. They all had a great time mocking Harry Potter; Pansy laughed so hard when Malfoy did an impression of him. She really had the funniest friends in the world.
The first thing that Draco noticed after getting settled in at the Slytherin table in the Great Hall, was that there was something different at the staff table – that great oaf Hagrid was not there. He commented about it, laughing loudly to the appreciation of his class-mates. He could not believe the school would hire an animal like that in the first place – it just proved how low the standards of this school were, Draco thought bitterly. He glanced over at the Gryffindor table where Potter and Weasley looked anxiously at the staff table, clearly having noticed what Draco too had noticed – probably sad that their beloved half-giant was not there to welcome them. Draco smiled.
All through the – as usual incredibly boring – Sorting, Draco's stomach was growling and he was happy to help himself to roast potatoes and steak and kidney pie as soon as everyone was sorted. The food was, as usual, not like it was at home, but he could cope.
The only thing interesting about Dumbledore's start-of -term speech was that he was interrupted. After all, they'd all heard his speeches a hundred times and could probably recite them by heart – what was interesting was who had interrupted him. A toad-like, pink-wearing Ministry of Magic-employed woman who told them all about how Hogwarts was going to change this year. Listening and watching her, quite surprised of her nerve to interrupt the Headmaster, along with the rest of the students, he realised he could not form an opinion yet. Sure, it would be lovely if something, or rather someone were to improve the manners of the school, but he would certainly have to see her in action to evaluate her.
He noticed Theodore Nott looking disapprovingly at their new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher as she spoke. Blaise Zabini seemed utterly uninterested; Vincent and Gregory too slow to care.
"What do you reckon?" he asked Pansy at his side, under his breath, nodding towards the woman in her pink cardigan.
Pansy looked at her with a hint of disgust.
"She needs a new wardrobe," she said then, making Daphne Greengrass and Tracey Davis snigger, and which seemed to resolve the matter as nobody said anything about it after that.
After leading first year Slytherins up to the common room (bloody prefect badge, Draco thought), and informing them of all the rules and to stay put and not lose any house-points, he, Gregory, Vincent and Pansy sat round the fireplace in their hard armchairs in the dark, greenish common room, joking and complaining about being back at school.
After enjoying their first potions lesson where Snape mocked Potter's attempt at the Draught of Peace, they were to meet their new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher for the first time. Their first lesson with professor Umbridge, their new Defence teacher had been different. That was the only way Pansy could describe it. After years of being taught by werewolves, Death Eaters in disguise and so on, it was surprisingly settled and easy. They were only to read Defensive Magical Theory and their new professor explained how they would not need to learn to use spells or fight, which caused an argument between her and the Gryffindors. Pansy admitted that perhaps Umbridge, this little pink lady who played the part of sugary nice, was not as nice as she made herself out to be – she did seem really stern – but, to be honest, Pansy reckoned Potter and the lot was overreacting slightly. They were bloody fifteen years old – they would not exactly need to learn how to duel yet, did they? It was silly.
The argument sparked a conversation between her classmates on the way towards their common room through the dungeons, about Potter and his sanity – whether what he said happened in June was true or not. Whether the Dark Lord was back or not.
Pansy noticed that both Malfoy and Theodore Nott kept a passive front during the entire conversation while the others discussed what they thought. She wondered why.
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