. + . Author . . . Aaden
. + . Date Written . . . June-July 2003
. + . Rating . . . PG (in later chapters, etc, rating may change)
. + . Note . . . Alright, I guess I should explain what this is. This is the only time I'm going to explain this, as there is SO much more to come, I'm not going to type it up five million times. I've created an original character named Ambrosine Emerson. I've decided to do with her what JKR did with Harry.make a series of 7 books dedicated to them and about, basically, their years at Hoggy warts. Yeah, long term project, ne? Well, this project is under construction.if you want me to write faster, please review. Plus, if you review, I'll love you forever. Promise. . . + . Claimer . . . Ambrosine Emerson is mine (as are many other characters in this piece). They're my characters and mine alone, as is all of the content of this little story. All words and phrases are mine, and the ideas in it, so please, please be nice and don't steal any of it. You may write a fanpiece including Ambrosine, but please CONTACT ME before you do so, since my email isn't listed, write your email in your review so I can get back to you.
. + . Disclaimer . . . Sadly, Remus Lupin and that whole world don't belong to me...*sobs* and nor does Hogwarts...but it does belong to J.K. Rowling.
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. . . . . . . . . . . . Y e a r . O n e
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. . . . . . c h a p t e r . o n e
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. . . . b e g i n
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Ambrosine Emerson looked up at the large castle that was to be the place of schooling for the next seven years of her life. The first year student's eyes shone a bright, optimistic cobalt blue; a rare sight to see…little Ambrosine did not get happy about many things, that was for sure. But leaving home was a good thing, in her eyes…though her parents were relatively good to her (when they were actually around), what she really wanted was to come to school. Ever since she was a little girl, she'd heard her parents speaking about Hogwarts…and it was so much nicer, so much larger than she could have ever imagined. The mere sight of the castle was magnificent, and to her it looked like something out of her fairy-tale novels. In the dark night, the only illumination that the enormous castle had was the moon, which appeared to be waxing. Through the many ancient, rectangular windows shone a warm, welcoming light, which added to Ambrosine's newfound optimism. She could almost hear all of the cheerful voices inside the castle; the demeanor of the school in general was positive and warm.
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"Emerson, hurry up." A tall girl nudged her, and Ambrosine was broken out of the trance that she herself was not even aware that she was in. She noticed that she had just stopped walking altogether…her and all of the other first years were being led into the school, and she had just stopped walking, the castle being so impressive to her that she just couldn't help but stop to admire it.
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"Ehm, right." Ambrosine said after realizing what had happened. She jogged to keep up with the group. After all, she didn't want to get lost on her first day at school…and if she didn't pay attention, that was far more than likely to happen.
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"'Ey, watch it." Came a rough, masculine voice.
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"…I…" Ambrosine yelped softly as she was knocked to the ground, the result of her frail body meeting the hard surface being a loud thump. She watched the boy who'd she had suspected had walked into her walk away. He was a large boy, certainly at least a foot taller than her, and she found it hard to believe that he was her age. "I…I'm sorry…" she whispered.
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'Well, best not let it get you down…' Ambrosine thought to herself, rising to her feet. She was a few meters behind everyone else, now, and would have to run to catch up. As she put the pressure on her left foot, taking a step forward, she winced with pain, the sharp throbbing in her ankle, the result of her fall, moving up throughout her body. She'd just have to deal with it and keep walking…she could go to the Hospital Wing once she was sorted and everyone else had headed to his or her common rooms. The pain didn't fade.
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Ambrosine walked nervously into the Great Hall, behind all of the other first years. Wow…the sight certainly was magnificent, even more so than she could ever have imagined. There were four long rectangular tables, apparently made of oak or likewise…each with a large banner hanging high above it. It was pretty obvious that each table was home to students of a particular house…as her father had reminded her many times, there were four houses at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. It was also pretty obvious to sort out which house was sitting at which table, due to the colors on the students' ties and uniforms, as well as how the seated students acted. Magnificent floating chandeliers illuminated the tables, and the vast night sky was visible through the ceiling, though that did not darken up the enormous room at all.
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"Wow…" Ambrosine gasped softly at the mere sight of it.
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"Close your mouth." A girl with waist-length auburn hair said, frowning up at Ambrosine. "It's not that amazing. You must come from a low-class family…"
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Ambrosine instantly closed her mouth. She hadn't even realized that it was open, or that she was standing there gaping in awe at the display of celestial bodies…right through the ceiling of a large castle, no less. She'd seen pictures in books and stories from her parents, but the things she had seen and heard did not do the real thing justice.
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"First years, this way, please don't dawdle!" Came their guide, a middle-aged woman's voice from the front of the large group of first years. Ambrosine limped quickly to catch up with the rest of the group, the affliction in her ankle still throbbing with pain. She did her best to catch up.
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'After this, you can go to the infirmary. It's not going to last much longer, and then the pain will stop.'
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"Alright, first years, please stand until your name is called…after the sorting hat tells you which house you're in, please move to that table with your new housemates. Dinner will commence after all new students are sorted." The woman croaked, though it was obvious that she was trying to sound at least a little pleasant. Ambrosine had not caught her name, and to be truthful she didn't really care to know; the pain shooting up from her ankle each time she put pressure on it constantly shifted her train of thought to other things.
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Ambrosine leaned to the side and stood on her toes to try and see this 'sorting hat'. Once the old woman moved aside, the tattered hat was revealed. She didn't think it very pretty at all, that was for sure…it was old and patched, but it was a legend of Hogwarts, one even someone of her age had heard about from her parents. This rag was the thing that would change her fortune for better or worse. It made her uneasy that an inanimate object had her Hogwarts career in its nonexistent hands, free to play with it as it willed. Well than, she'd better make a good impression. No rude thoughts, no bad thoughts…it wasn't right to judge things by how they looked. Perhaps this sorting hat truly was a noble little fellow, and treated students fairly. Ah, yes…that was what her father had said… "The sorting hat will put you where you belong. Slytherin, of course! Just like the rest of our family. Make me proud, Rose…" His words, more threatening than encouraging, echoed in her head, and she had to shake her head to stop his voice from ringing in her ears.
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She tried to balance on one foot to stop the all too familiar ache from again shooting throughout her body. It was kind of working, when she concentrated. 'All right…I'll just have to keep doing this for a little longer, until I'm sorted. After everyone's finished I'll ask a teacher to escort me to the hospital wing and everything will be fine after that.' Her balancing act was interrupted by a loud cough behind her, a loud croup originating in the bottom of the throat. Again in pain, Ambrosine reached into the pocket of her cloak, sure she had a tissue in there somewhere. Aha, there it was. Her hand had found it after a few minutes of searching, and she turned around, blue eyes meeting the boy who had emitted the cough. He was a pale, sickly looking boy, with wispy light brown hair and amber eyes.
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"…I…uhm…bless you." As soon as Ambrosine whispered that to the boy, she was sure that it had sounded stupid. To her, it sounded like she'd said she was blessing him, and that surely sounded at least a little bit arrogant.
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When he coughed again, she was reminded of the reason that she had turned around in the first place.
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"Adams, Michelle!" The old woman shouted, voice raspy.
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Ambrosine handed the amber-eyed boy a few tissues.
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"…For your cough." She whispered. But then it struck her that one probably wouldn't need tissues for a cough, but, rather, a losenger.
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A short, mature looking girl with long, sleek brown hair walked up to the stool that the sorting hat sat upon. Ambrosine glanced at her from the corner of her eye, only to see that it was the girl who had politely told her to please shut her mouth just a few minutes back.. She didn't want to be in whatever house that girl got sorted into, that was for sure…
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He looked at her with a quizzical expression on his face, and she'd realized that she'd embarrassed herself. Ambrosine's cheeks felt a little hot…what else could go wrong? She stuffed her other hand into her pocket and fished around for a cough drop. Ah, success! She pulled it out of her pocket and placed it atop the tissues and handed it to the boy, who appeared, if it was possible, to get sicker and sicker by the minute.
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"…Thanks." The boy said, his voice a soft whisper. He barely managed a smile before breaking out into a coughing fit again. Their host shot him the look of death.
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Ambrosine stayed silent, feeling a little responsible for the scolding that he'd received.
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"Slytherin!"
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"Black, Narcissa!" Croaked the woman. She was only on the letter 'B', and already her voice was getting hoarse.
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A tall, slim girl with light blonde hair walked up to the sorting hat, tossing her hair behind her shoulder elaborately as she did so. She seemed slightly arrogant, but there was no doubt in Ambrosine's mind that she was very pretty…and she supposed that pretty people did have the right to be at least a little arrogant…right?
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"Slytherin!" Shouted the sorting hat, and the girl whom she knew now as Narcissa hopped off of the stool and walked over to the Slytherin table to be greeted by a loud round of applause.
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The woman cleared her throat and glared at the Slytherins to settle down.
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"Black, Sirius!"
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The boy who answered to this name looked nothing like the girl who had sat on the stool prior to him. Ambrosine supposed that they could be related, somehow…though they looked like complete opposites of each other. Narcissa's manner was elegant if not arrogant, but Sirius seemed a little more laid back…though he did strike her, even at this young age, as a bit of a ladies man, with the way he sat, the smirk on his face. His hair was dark, much the opposite of Narcissa's, and fell into his face in a kind of sloppy perfection. It looked better like that than if he'd decided to brush it, Ambrosine thought…they must be related. They were both blessed with good looks…with that, Ambrosine decided that she thought too much. But then, thinking was getting her mind off of the pain that was currently surging through her leg.
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"GRYFFINDOR!" The hat boomed. Well, that seemed easy.
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Sirius' smirk only widened as he sauntered over to the Gryffindor table, hands in his pockets.
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"Cerdelia, Alicia!"
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"Slytherin!"
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"Collins, Ryan!"
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"Ravenclaw!"
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"Draven, Danielle!"
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"Hufflepuff!"
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"Emerson, Ambrosine!"
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Ambrosine blinked. Did she just hear her name? She took a step forward, looking at the sorting hat nervously. She swallowed. It felt like she had a huge lump in her throat.
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"MISS EMERSON! We don't have all night! Hurry it up!"
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Ambrosine nodded quickly and walked up to the stool, sitting upon it and placing the tattered hat upon her blond-haired head.
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'Ah...an Emerson…' Came the dreamy-sounding voice of the sorting hat. 'What house should we put a mind like yours in, eh?'
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'Please...please, put me in Slytherin…'
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'Slytherin? You must be kidding me, child. Your manner is nothing like that of the ones in that house, or the ones in your family…though, it is a…tradition…to be in Slytherin, isn't it?'
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Ambrosine nodded.
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'It is…just, please put me in that house…'
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'You would do much better in Ravenclaw, my dear, with a mind like yours…'
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'No…Slytherin, please…' She pleaded.
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But the hat continued.
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'Or even in Hufflepuff…you certainly act like a Hufflepuff, dear girl. You'd make tons of friends in Hufflepuff…'
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'My father will kill me if I'm not in Slytherin. Please, please, please…just leave me in Slytherin.'
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'But you won't do well in Slytherin…'
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'But I'll be disowned…'
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'No you won't.'
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'Yes I will.'
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'No you won't.'
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'Yes I will.'
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'No you won't.
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'Yes I will!'
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The hat seemed to emit a sigh, admitting defeat.
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"…Slytherin." The hat did seem a little less enthusiastic about its choice with Ambrosine than it did with the others.
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Ambrosine released a sigh of relief…phew. She wasn't going to be tossed out of her household, after all…her parents would still accept her as their daughter, for the moment. She stood up and set the hat down on its stool, and gratefully, yet painfully, made her way over to the Slytherin tables. The applause that she received certainly wasn't a large one, definitely not as large as Michelle's or Narcissa's.
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"…I…uhm…would you mind if I sit here?" She whispered to Narcissa, who had a few empty feet of bench bare next to her.
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Narcissa glanced to Ambrosine and shook her head.
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"…Thanks…" Ambrosine sat down, continuing to watch the rest of the sorting.
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"Evans, Lily!"
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A girl with slightly tanned skin and just below shoulder-length russet hair that gave the slight impression that she was Irish, though by the name Ambrosine could tell that she was not stepped up to the bench upon which the sorting hat sat. She seemed nice, Ambrosine thought…Lily didn't seem greedy or selfish or pompous at all.
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"Gryffindor!"
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Of course, figures. Someone who seemed nice couldn't be sorted into Slytherin…that was where all the cruel people went, wasn't it…
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Ambrosine watched intently as the sorting commenced. For some reason, she found observing people to be interesting…and this was no different. Each house attained more members, and the empty spots on the Slytherin benches were waning, as were the vacant seats on the other houses' benches.
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"Lupin, Remus!"
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Lupin. Hm, that was an unusual surname.
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None other than the pale, coughing boy that was behind her stepped up to the sorting hat. He looked like he was having a little bit of trouble standing, even, and his face was so pallid that he looked as though he were going to collapse at any moment. He seemed to be sucking on something, though, swishing around something with his tongue. And his coughing stopped. Well, that was good.
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"Gryffindor."
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"Malfoy, Lucius!"
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The boy who approached reminded Ambrosine strongly of Narcissa. He had a pale complexion, though not as pale as Remus', and light blond hair that he tied back in a ponytail, giving him a bit of a colonial kind of look. His clothes were nice, too, recently purchased shoes shone under the candlelight, teeth were perfectly straight and white…and Ambrosine noticed that his nails were trimmed. He looked as though he came from a rich family…
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"Slytherin!" The sorting hat only had to wait a few minutes before shouting, though its reply to him did not sound so hesitant. More sure of itself, the hat was, or so it seemed…
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Lucius smirked and walked over to the Slytherin table, taking a seat across from Ambrosine. She avoided making eye contact…people like that intimidated her. But then, nearly everything intimidated Ambrosine, so, nothing special there.
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"McIntosh, Isiah!"
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"Ravenclaw!"
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"Montague, Miriam!"
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"Hufflepuff!"
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"Nelson, Patrick!"
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"Gryffindor!"
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"Parré, Etienne!"
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"Ravenclaw!"
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"Pettigrew, Peter!"
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The boy who walked up didn't seem to be very sure of himself, in Ambrosine's opinion…but then, she hadn't been too sure of herself either…and it wasn't fair to judge. He just looked like a Hufflepuff, though, the sheepish yet nervous smile that rested on his pudgy face, and Ambrosine was surprised when the sorting hat shouted…
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"Gryffindor!"
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"Porter, Norman!"
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"Hufflepuff!"
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"Potter, James!"
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This one reminded Ambrosine just a little bit of the Black boy, mostly because of his dark, messy hair…though she did not deny that Black's did make him look a little more appealing, the way it was kept. The sorting hat barely got the chance to touch Potter's head before it screamed the house that he was sorted into.
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"Gryffindor!"
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Ambrosine rubbed her temples. She was getting tired…the newly accepted Slytherin first year hadn't had any sleep last night, having Hogwarts on her mind. The poor girl had been terrified into not sleeping because she was so nervous…and now her ankle was seriously throbbing with pain. The sorting was only half over, and it felt like it had been commencing for nearly forty-five minutes already. To be truthful, she didn't know whether or not she would be able to last for another forty-five.
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It would have been rude, in Ambrosine's eyes, to just leave in the middle of the sorting…and disrespectful to whomever it was who was being sorted, too. But she just couldn't stand the pain in her ankle…it was far too much to bear now. She stood up, to the best of her ability, and stepped over the bench upon which she had been sitting, trying not to make any noise.
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"Excuse me, Sir." Ambrosine whispered to the man whom she assumed was the head of her house. He was a thin man, average in height, clad all in black, skin pale. His dark brown hair was tied back with a single ribbon, also black in color. The man's dark, accusing eyes darted to Ambrosine…he had, apparently, not expected his silence to be interrupted, even though the students of his house were chattering silently right underneath his nose. Ambrosine suddenly felt a rush of fear sweep over her, and she had immediately wished that she had continued to stay seated. Oh well, it was a bit late for that…
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"…I…I was wondering if…" Ambrosine swallowed apprehensively. "…If you could, perhaps…I-if it's not too much trouble…show me where the hospital wing is. I…" She swallowed again, and glanced away before looking back at the man. His eyes…she was terrified each time she looked into his eyes. "…I…I think that I sprained my ankle."
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"You can wait until the sorting is over." He said monotonously, his face expressionless as he glanced back at the sorting hat, which had just placed a boy with greasy black hair into Slytherin house.
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Ambrosine sighed; admitting defeat she walked back to the table of Slytherins, and slid back into where she had been sitting before to endure the rest of the sorting. The students seated next to her were certainly talkative…not being as respectful as Ambrosine would have hoped. All she really wanted was peace and quiet, and the mindless chatter was beginning to give her a headache. What the first year really wanted to do was slump down over the table, lie with her head resting in her arms, eyes closed, comfortably resting. She didn't give into that, though, much to her discomfort…and she actually sat through the whole sorting.
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After it had finished, Ambrosine perked up slightly, sitting up in her chair, waiting for someone to say 'All right, this way to your dormitories.' But it never came.
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Instead, a raspy cough filled the large dining hall, and suddenly it was deadly quiet. One would have been able to hear a pin drop, of this there was no doubt. Her eyes shot to what acted as the front of the great hall, being adorned with a long, rectangular table, of which the teachers and headmaster of Hogwarts were seated. Ambrosine suspected the elderly, ancient looking man in the center was the headmaster. He must have been the one to cough, she thought, or clear his throat, if that had been what he had attempted.
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"I welcome you again to what I hope will be another fun, knowledge seeking filled year at Hogwarts. To the first years who do not yet know me, I am Albus Dumbledore, the headmaster of this school."
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So that was who he was…Ambrosine mentally scolded herself for being so stupid. Dumbledore was legend, he was. Wizards the world over had heard of Albus Dumbledore…and yet here she was, sitting in his midst, without a clue. But then…that meant that he was going to give a speech, as well…the annual welcoming speech to Hogwarts that she had heard of numerous times from her mother, given by that 'horrible Dumbledore fellow'. That meant she would probably have to sit tight for another half hour or so…when did it end? Any other day would have been fine, any other day she would have gladly hung upon every single word of the white-bearded wizard's speech…but not today. Today was a bad day. Ambrosine's head was aching with pain, and the throbbing feeling in her ankle had spread up her whole left leg, making it impossible to sit without feeling absolutely terrible. The fact that she did, despite her temporary ignorance, respect Dumbledore—apparently the other Slytherins begged to differ, she noticed, as they began to mutter, breaking the silence—and did, really, want to listen to what he had to say. But right now the headmaster deserved more respect, more attention than she could offer, and that added to her pile of problems.
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Dumbledore droned on and on, preaching about the school, his words becoming muddled in Ambrosine's head. What had he just said about school grounds…never go where? The prefects will lead you into the forbidden forest…
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What?
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Realizing what she had just thought that Dumbledore had said, she snapped out of her foggy-eyed trance and decided to pay attention.
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"You heard the headmaster!" Said the woman, spectacles low down on her pointed nose. "After the first feast of the school year, first years will be escorted by their house prefects to their common rooms. And do not, under any circumstances, go into the forbidden forest and other areas that are off-limits unless accompanied by a professor."
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As if by magic, many slabs of ham and beef instantly appeared on the students' smooth china plates, a mountain of bread rolls suddenly filling up the empty glass bowls that sat near the center of the table, many sweets like lollipops and chocolate suddenly appearing on the sides of the plates.
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Ambrosine glanced to her slightly tinted glass, which looked to be more like a transparent yellow goblet than a wine glass, or perhaps a fusion of the two. Instantly it filled with what appeared to be cider, and that was a welcome sight to the Slytherin first year. She picked up the glass and raised it to her lips, gulping down a generous amount of the liquid. It was warm, and it did little to ease her headache, though little was certainly welcomed. Ambrosine's appetite was nonexistent, and she sat at the table she just observed everybody else as they ate, chewing away at the food sloppily. She averted her gaze to the wooden table that her elbows were rested on, it being the only item of interest, at the moment. Suddenly the crevices in the old wood became oddly interesting.
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"Hey, Emerson."
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Ambrosine's head shot up, a nervous look on her face. Why would anyone want to talk to her?
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"…Y-yeah?"
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"What's wrong with your hair?" The girl said, raising her pale, bony hand to her own long light blond hair. It was the girl that Ambrosine knew to be Narcissa Black…she had actually been awake that part of the sorting ceremony.
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Ah, of course. To insult her.
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Ambrosine sighed. Well, she hadn't expected to be insulted for her hair this early on, but it figured, in a way. Her hair was a dirty blonde color, naturally, but when she was younger she wanted to have black hair, just like her favorite singer. So, the curious six-year-old wandered into her mother's room and used her wand to put a glamour-kind of spell on herself, and since she had done it incorrectly, she'd been unable to, since then, stop the tips of her hair from turning a dark grayish-black color, no matter how much effort she put into it. Ambrosine herself didn't mind her hair…even though it made her stand out far more than she would have liked. Ambrosine would have chopped her hair off right then if it wouldn't grow back right afterwards…she felt about two feet tall, if that.
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She said nothing.
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"It's got…black…things…at the ends. It looks like your hair got stuck in the fire and got burned."
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Narcissa had apparently made a lot of friends already…and all of them laughed riotously.
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"I…" Ambrosine swallowed. "…I…It's natural…"
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"You have naturally deformed hair?"
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This caused another uproar of laughter.
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"…I…uhm….yeah." Ambrosine said meekly, eyes drifting down to the wooden table again. It was a nice, familiar sight, the wood.
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"Look at me when I'm speaking to you." Narcissa snapped. "You were the one that the sorting hat was having trouble sorting, weren't you…"
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Ambrosine nodded slightly, wishing that the prefects would just lead them to their common rooms already.
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"What house did it want to put you in? Gryffindor? Or maybe Hufflepuff, with the way you're acting. Not a real Slytherin, are you?"
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"…I'm a Slytherin…" Ambrosine whispered.
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"A horrible one, that's for sure. Where's your pride? Are you even a pureblood?"
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By now most of the Slytherin table's eyes were on Ambrosine, and she could recognize the intimidating laugh of Michelle Adams.
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'Just don't say anything…don't show them that they're hurting your feelings…sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me…sticks and stones may break my bones…'
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"You're not, are you? A mudblood, perhaps?"
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'…But words will never hurt me…sticks…'
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"We have a muggle child at our table!"
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'…And stones may break my bones…'
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"You're not fit to be in Slytherin house."
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'…But words will never hurt me…sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me…'
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Ambrosine didn't fight back, she didn't argue back. She thought that if she just stayed quiet, maybe they'd leave her alone. She didn't even bother to say that she was a pureblood…her father had reminded her of that fact so many times that it remained engraved in her head, and most likely would still be there for the whole of her life, never to be eroded.
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"We're going to have fun with this one, girls…"
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Narcissa's friends all laughed shrilly, and Ambrosine found herself wondering why girls laughed like that. Why were they so cruel to her? What did she do to them?
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'Sticks and stones will break my bones but words will never hurt me…'
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"Too stupid to even respond when I talk to you?"
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'Words will never hurt me…'
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"Heh, looks like the Hufflepuff's dumb, as well! The Hufflepuff halfblood!"
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'Words will never hurt me…'
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It sounded like everyone at the table was laughing at her.
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Ambrosine raised her relatively pale hands to her ears, trying to make the sound go away. 'Sticks and stones will break my bones but words will never hurt me…'
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Proceeding what seemed to be forever, the insults seemed to stop. Ambrosine looked up, just slightly, nervously, and started to slowly remove her hands from her ears. It appeared that they had found another target, for now. She sighed softly, relieved…but made sure that her sigh was not so loud that their attention would shoot back to her. She was safe.
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After everyone—or, nearly everyone…Ambrosine heard a few students still slurping away greedily at their cider and plump, juicy meat—was finished nourishing themselves, the seventh year prefects stood up at the end of each table and strode down to the other end, where the first years were seated, to escort them down to the common rooms. The prefects, Slytherin prefects in particular, didn't appear too enthusiastic about the job, but knew it had to be done, nonetheless. Plus, fresh meat…that was always good, wasn't it? Ambrosine was pretty sure that that was what was going through their minds…
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Ambrosine mentally compared it to a miniature stampede, everyone dashing through the doors at once to cause somewhat of a traffic jam. She had already declared defeat. There was no way that she could make it through the hustling, bustling crowds of eager students, and decided that it would be better to bring up the tail of her bunch. She did need to find the hospital wing, as well…Perhaps whoever decided to show her where it was would also lead her back to the Slytherin dorms. That would sure be handy. Ambrosine moved to stand up and was once again reminded of the piercing pain in her ankle as it shot up throughout her body. It looked like the cider had really done more to ebb the pain than she had initially thought.
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There was now no sign of the headmaster, or of the old spectacled woman. Ambrosine sighed, a little disappointed…but hey, at least now she wouldn't get lost on her way back to the Slytherin common room. If she could make it there without falling, that was.
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She put one foot forward, then the other, her height falling by a few inches as she put pressure upon her left foot. Great, now she looked like a crippled hunchback…but that thought was out of her mind within a few seconds, her new focus being to actually walk without toppling over. It was a challenge, that was for sure, and she had to hold out her left arm, fingers brushing the cold stone wall for balance. It was difficult, but within time she found herself barely caught up with the rest of the Slytherin first years as they were led out of the great hall.
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Well, caught up with most of the Slytherins, at least. A boy, rather tall for a first year, with pale skin and light blonde hair tied back in an early American manner trailed behind the rest of the pack, Ambrosine included. He didn't seem to need to look up, something that made it seem as though he knew the school like the back of his palm, and could simply walk around the school with his eyes downcast on the floor as they were now, and not bang into any walls…successfully arriving at the destination where he had hoped to go. His hands were in his pockets, and he was listlessly walking in the direction of the Slytherin dungeons, not seeming too jubilant about it.
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For the first time that night Ambrosine felt the palpable sensation that someone was watching her, though she was unable to hear footsteps echoing her own. That thought made her uncomfortable, and by this she was driven to stand upright, straightening her back, her chin up. She took two regularly paced steps forward, wincing only slightly as she did this. She would be able to bear the pain, she thought…and she didn't want whoever was following her to make fun of her. She hoped it wasn't one of Narcissa's friends, sticking behind to poke fun and then report to their leader with news of the poor girl's faults. Hopefully, though, if she could at least walk properly…the person who was following her would grow bored with not finding anything to criticize. The throbbing pain in her ankle was getting worse as her gait improved.
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He raised his eyes from the ground and placed them on Ambrosine's back, then trailing down to her legs. There was something a little funny about the way she was walking. He furrowed his brow, a quizzical yet curious and somewhat amused expression crossing his pale features. His eyes searched her probingly, in a way that would make any girl uncomfortable, especially considering the intensity of his gray eyes.
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"You all right?" Came a surprisingly kind voice, surprisingly close to her.
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"…I-I-I-I'm fine." Ambrosine stuttered nervously, eyes ahead, not daring to look at him. He was probably mocking her. She felt her skin flush, grow hot with little embarrassed prickles, and she took a few steps forward, the pain in her ankle deathly now...though her stride remained perfectly poised.
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"Do you want a hand?" He asked, peering at her slightly before glancing ahead to the rest of the group who were quickly leaving them behind without so much as a second thought. "I know where the common room is myself. We could go at your pace. You sure you're all right?" His voice seemed doubtful.
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Ambrosine nodded, taking another step forward. Why did he care if she was all right, anyway? Using Narcissa as a model, the Slytherins wouldn't care about what happened to her, nor would they ask if she was all right. The Gryffindors had a rivalry with the Slytherins, so no Gryffindor would come to help her. Was he a Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw, perhaps? But if so, why was he walking in the direction of the dungeons…the location of the Slytherin common room? It didn't make much sense to her, and tons of ideas, thoughts, and various explanations swirled inside her head. As her recently shined shoe touched the ground she slipped and fell face forward, landing flat on her stomach. A loud bang followed contact. Ambrosine was thankful that she hadn't eaten anything, however…it was likely that it would have come back up if she had. The thump had caused some of the Slytherins ahead of her to turn to see what, or who, was causing all of the racket.
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"Keep up or you'll be sleeping on the floor tonight." Growled the seventh year that was leading the group of first years to the dungeons. He glanced back at her and kept walking, motioning for the rest of the assemblage to follow him.
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"Come on." The boy said, glaring up at the seventh year before glancing down at Ambrosine with a soft, helpful smile plastered on his face. "The hospital wing's only a floor up. It'll only take a few minutes for Madam Pomfrey to get you all better." He held out a pale hand to assist her to her feet.
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Ambrosine glanced to the side, meeting his hand with hers, blushing embarrassedly as their fingers touched. She wasn't used to conversing with humans, and she wasn't used to touching other humans. Sure, she liked to stroke the fur of amiable creatures such as cats, but humans were different. She avoided away from humans. Nonetheless, however, she allowed this boy to help her to her feet.
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He reached out and gently wrapped an arm about her waist to keep her from falling, "Walk slowly. You can lean on me for whatever support you need." He said simply before starting forward.
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An intense blush crept along Ambrosine's face, her pale skin now flushing a dark red. For someone who was not used to any human contact whatsoever, being touched there was pretty unwelcome. She felt a hot, tingly sensation sweep along her now tense skin, tense from being touched in a place that hadn't before been touched. She didn't like it. Ambrosine was a little thankful for the touchy-feely stranger who had decided to give her a hand…even though he made her feel awkward. She couldn't very well protest now, anyway…he had complete power over her, since she was crippled.
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It didn't take long for the two to arrive, and though the stairs were clear down at the end of the hallway, apparently situated there by someone who wanted people to walk more than there was need to, they made good time.
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The boy paused once they met the foot of the large staircase and bit his lip.
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"All right." A sigh. "There's only one way to do this without you falling through the false step," He said, pulling Ambrosine up into his arms like she was a child…or, perhaps, his newly wed bride whom he was happily carrying over the threshold.
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Ambrosine certainly would have protested the way he was holding her, his arm touching her upper legs in order to support her. Even so, she didn't like it, not one bit. Her skin was agitated by his touch, and only the throbbing ache in her ankle reminded her that she had to stay attached to him or suffer the consequences of being absolutely, positively alone, with nobody to help her. And, surprisingly, he seemed to know where he was going. That was a plus…she wouldn't get lost, and he would, hopefully…stick around to show her back to the Slytherin common room. Only upon being hoisted up into his arms did her eyes meet his, and realization struck her. He was a Slytherin…whose name, at the moment…she could not place.
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He nodded to her before starting up the steps, having to jump over two of them without even setting a foot on the stair. "Bloody things, those stairs. Never understood why the false steps were there, an' Mum an' Dad won't tell."
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As they reached the top of the stairs, he set her down gently, his grin only slight, though it was, obviously, there.
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"We're almost there," He said before wrapping his arm about her waist again and started forward. "And there you'll have a bed to lay on. Won't have to worry about me making you nervous anymore," He said, chuckling and playfully tickling her side with his fingers even though he'd easily figured by her actions that being this close to him was making her uncomfortable. As he did this, Ambrosine's skin prickled at his touch, and leaned in the opposite direction of his fingers to try and escape their tickling, only to be met with his waist, only to be closer to him. Ambrosine frowned…he'd cornered her, apparently. Even though he was helping her…leading her to what she assumed—and hoped—was the hospital wing, he was making her uncomfortable…and she wanted it to stop. She wanted it to stop as soon as humanly possible.
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Why did he continue to talk to her even though she remained silent? Perhaps talking to fill up the silence was his way of consoling himself, Ambrosine thought.
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As they finally reached two large doors that guarded the hospital wing, the boy leaned against them to open them, allowing Ambrosine to enter if she wished.
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There was a rattling and a groan from inside.
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"Not already…it's the first day!"
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He laughed and shook his head.
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"Madam Pomfrey, I think it's a sprained ankle," He said, as soon as Ambrosine had managed to get inside the room, rushing in after her to guide her to one of the newly made hospital beds.
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"Oh, Lucius, dear. Bring her over to one of the beds, ah, you're one step ahead of me." The plump witch cried upon seeing them, her voice noticeably less annoyed and more concerned now that she'd seen whom it was.
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With his help, Ambrosine managed to get to the beds, and lay down.
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"I'm going to try and find Professor Weiss and get our password. We're in the same house." Lucius said, looking to Madam Pomfrey with a friendly smile that one would not have thought possible of a Slytherin. "I'll be right back." With that, he skipped out of the hospital wing.
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Madam Pomfrey laughed and shook her head, strolling over to Ambrosine's bedside, a smooth china teacup in hand.
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"Here's some tea, dear. Drink up, it'll help you feel better." The Hogwarts healer sighed. "Lucius, a Slytherin. I don't believe it, but I guess it makes sense, with his father being so strict. Oh dear, I beg your pardon, I'm rambling." Madam Pomfrey looked to Ambrosine with a wry smile. She was always one for gossip, that was for sure.
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Ambrosine just politely nodded, raising the fragile cup to her lips and slowly sipping the heated contents. Mmm…tea. The beverage started to act like the cider at dinner did, slowly helping her headache to disappear, keeping her body warm so the rhythmic throbbing pain in her ankle would slow down, if only in just a small amount.
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"What happened, dear?"
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"…S-s…" She swallowed. Take a deep breath… "Someone banged into me and I fell…" Ambrosine stuttered, voice soft and barely audible. The tea was soothing her pain…and she wondered how. It was just simple, every day English tea, wasn't it?
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Madam Pomfrey nodded understandingly.
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"Often happens when herding the first years." She said with a comforting smile. "Though I don't think I've seen someone with this swollen of an ankle, only on their first day here. Did you tell anyone that you'd fallen? Minerva…" The nurse corrected herself. "…Professor McGonagall would have fixed you up quickly if you'd said something. Ah, no worries…" Madam Pomfrey lightly tapped Ambrosine's ankle with her wand, and the swelling seemed to instantly go down, the pain almost completely gone.
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"Thank you." Ambrosine said, sipping her Earl Gray.
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"…So, dear, I'm guessing you're in the same house as Lucius. Slytherin?" Madam Pomfrey said, breaking the silence.
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Ambrosine nodded, eyes on Madame Pomfrey, lips on the teacup.
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"You seem just about as much of a Slytherin as he is. I'm willing to bet that none of the others stopped to see if you were all right or showed even the least bit of concern." The nurse just out of training shook her head sadly.
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"T-they laughed." Ambrosine again sipped her tea, draining the smooth white cup of its contents. The liquid warmed her whole body, and she sighed. It was almost like taking a nice, hot bath…inhaling the steam so it warmed one's insides.
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"As would be expected. Slytherins are normally very heartless." The nurse said, shaking her head. Well, that was wonderful to hear…if everybody in Slytherin house was like Narcissa…Ambrosine was going to have a horrible seven years of schooling at Hogwarts…but she reminded herself that the goal was to learn first, make friends second…and of course, to not be godforsaken by her own parents.
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Lucius jogged into the hospital wing, panting. By the looks of it, he'd run down to the dungeons and back.
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"Nimble toad…" He stammered, rubbing his left hand.
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Madam Pomfrey sighed, "I'm going to have to take that paddle away from Matthew…He uses it far too much."
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"Eh, it's all right. I got the password." Lucius said, a soft smile on his pale face.
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Ambrosine couldn't help but wonder…why did he get hit in order to successfully fetch the password? He could have just stayed there, with the rest of Slytherin house, and left her to herself in the hospital wing. She really didn't understand how his mind worked, that was for sure…most everyone else was pretty simple to decipher. Most kids their age had their minds on toys and impressing their friends, making fun of the weak ones that wouldn't fight back. He was…well, there was something strange about him.
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"Better?" Lucius nodded to Ambrosine.
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"She'll be fine." Madam Pomfrey said, taking a few steps back to examine Ambrosine. "If that ankle of yours starts to hurt again, just come back up here. Tell a teacher, though, all right?" She smiled daintily and took the empty teacup from Ambrosine's bedside as the first year girl managed to stand up without being stricken with an immense amount of discomfort.
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"You think you can walk?"
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"I…yeah. I think so."
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"D'you want me to walk with you, or do you wanna try and find it yourself?"
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What was he, crazy?
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"I'm going to get lost if I go on my own." Ambrosine said, voice gentle. "I'd like it if you could show me where the common room is."
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"Thanks for bringing her, Lucius." Pomfrey said, her back to the two of them. She had moved to put the china teacup in the sink for rinsing.
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"No prob," Lucius offered amiably.
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"T-thank you, Madam."
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"It's my job, dear. Just watch out for yourself!"
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The two first years nodded and made their way out of the hospital wing, Ambrosine with her eyes on the floor, a grateful smile on her face.
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"That stair, jump over it." Lucius said. "You'll sink right through if you step on it."
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Ambrosine hopped over it, a bit surprised at her newfound flexibility.
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"That's the way."
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"…How do you know so much about this school already?"
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"Mum." Lucius grinned. "She told me a lot of stuff to keep me from being the butt of any jokes."
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She nodded. "You must have good parents."
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At this, the ponytailed boy laughed.
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"Good parents? Yeah, my mum, maybe…but Dad wanted to give me misinformation. He wants me to be laughed at…" A sigh.
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Ambrosine frowned.
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"Why?"
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"He says that I need to be broken. I need to become a 'true Slytherin,'" Lucius said the last two words mockingly, showing obvious dislike for his father.
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There was silence as they continued to walk down the stairs and down the main hall of Hogwarts. They took a few turns, down a few narrow alleyways, and through some stone corridors and down a narrow staircase, only to stop at a large, ancient looking statue of a large snake.
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"Nimble toad." Lucius said, watching the snake's mouth open and the jaws part only to reveal the gothically furnished Slytherin common room. It looked more like a dungeon with black leather couches, large chandeliers, and gothic windows—a place to look at rather than to live in. Ambrosine couldn't argue that she liked how it looked.
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"Ah, all the comforts of home." Lucius stretched his arms high above his head after stepping over the snake's lower jaws.
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"…Thanks." Ambrosine said, following him over the small half-foot tall barricade that was blocking her entrance to the common room. "I really appreciate your help."
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Before Lucius could swivel around and say 'No problem!', Ambrosine was walking up the stone steps to the girls' dormitories.
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. . . . f i n
. + . Date Written . . . June-July 2003
. + . Rating . . . PG (in later chapters, etc, rating may change)
. + . Note . . . Alright, I guess I should explain what this is. This is the only time I'm going to explain this, as there is SO much more to come, I'm not going to type it up five million times. I've created an original character named Ambrosine Emerson. I've decided to do with her what JKR did with Harry.make a series of 7 books dedicated to them and about, basically, their years at Hoggy warts. Yeah, long term project, ne? Well, this project is under construction.if you want me to write faster, please review. Plus, if you review, I'll love you forever. Promise. . . + . Claimer . . . Ambrosine Emerson is mine (as are many other characters in this piece). They're my characters and mine alone, as is all of the content of this little story. All words and phrases are mine, and the ideas in it, so please, please be nice and don't steal any of it. You may write a fanpiece including Ambrosine, but please CONTACT ME before you do so, since my email isn't listed, write your email in your review so I can get back to you.
. + . Disclaimer . . . Sadly, Remus Lupin and that whole world don't belong to me...*sobs* and nor does Hogwarts...but it does belong to J.K. Rowling.
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. . . . . . . . . . . . Y e a r . O n e
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. . . . . . c h a p t e r . o n e
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. . . . b e g i n
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Ambrosine Emerson looked up at the large castle that was to be the place of schooling for the next seven years of her life. The first year student's eyes shone a bright, optimistic cobalt blue; a rare sight to see…little Ambrosine did not get happy about many things, that was for sure. But leaving home was a good thing, in her eyes…though her parents were relatively good to her (when they were actually around), what she really wanted was to come to school. Ever since she was a little girl, she'd heard her parents speaking about Hogwarts…and it was so much nicer, so much larger than she could have ever imagined. The mere sight of the castle was magnificent, and to her it looked like something out of her fairy-tale novels. In the dark night, the only illumination that the enormous castle had was the moon, which appeared to be waxing. Through the many ancient, rectangular windows shone a warm, welcoming light, which added to Ambrosine's newfound optimism. She could almost hear all of the cheerful voices inside the castle; the demeanor of the school in general was positive and warm.
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"Emerson, hurry up." A tall girl nudged her, and Ambrosine was broken out of the trance that she herself was not even aware that she was in. She noticed that she had just stopped walking altogether…her and all of the other first years were being led into the school, and she had just stopped walking, the castle being so impressive to her that she just couldn't help but stop to admire it.
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"Ehm, right." Ambrosine said after realizing what had happened. She jogged to keep up with the group. After all, she didn't want to get lost on her first day at school…and if she didn't pay attention, that was far more than likely to happen.
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"'Ey, watch it." Came a rough, masculine voice.
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"…I…" Ambrosine yelped softly as she was knocked to the ground, the result of her frail body meeting the hard surface being a loud thump. She watched the boy who'd she had suspected had walked into her walk away. He was a large boy, certainly at least a foot taller than her, and she found it hard to believe that he was her age. "I…I'm sorry…" she whispered.
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'Well, best not let it get you down…' Ambrosine thought to herself, rising to her feet. She was a few meters behind everyone else, now, and would have to run to catch up. As she put the pressure on her left foot, taking a step forward, she winced with pain, the sharp throbbing in her ankle, the result of her fall, moving up throughout her body. She'd just have to deal with it and keep walking…she could go to the Hospital Wing once she was sorted and everyone else had headed to his or her common rooms. The pain didn't fade.
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Ambrosine walked nervously into the Great Hall, behind all of the other first years. Wow…the sight certainly was magnificent, even more so than she could ever have imagined. There were four long rectangular tables, apparently made of oak or likewise…each with a large banner hanging high above it. It was pretty obvious that each table was home to students of a particular house…as her father had reminded her many times, there were four houses at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. It was also pretty obvious to sort out which house was sitting at which table, due to the colors on the students' ties and uniforms, as well as how the seated students acted. Magnificent floating chandeliers illuminated the tables, and the vast night sky was visible through the ceiling, though that did not darken up the enormous room at all.
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"Wow…" Ambrosine gasped softly at the mere sight of it.
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"Close your mouth." A girl with waist-length auburn hair said, frowning up at Ambrosine. "It's not that amazing. You must come from a low-class family…"
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Ambrosine instantly closed her mouth. She hadn't even realized that it was open, or that she was standing there gaping in awe at the display of celestial bodies…right through the ceiling of a large castle, no less. She'd seen pictures in books and stories from her parents, but the things she had seen and heard did not do the real thing justice.
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"First years, this way, please don't dawdle!" Came their guide, a middle-aged woman's voice from the front of the large group of first years. Ambrosine limped quickly to catch up with the rest of the group, the affliction in her ankle still throbbing with pain. She did her best to catch up.
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'After this, you can go to the infirmary. It's not going to last much longer, and then the pain will stop.'
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"Alright, first years, please stand until your name is called…after the sorting hat tells you which house you're in, please move to that table with your new housemates. Dinner will commence after all new students are sorted." The woman croaked, though it was obvious that she was trying to sound at least a little pleasant. Ambrosine had not caught her name, and to be truthful she didn't really care to know; the pain shooting up from her ankle each time she put pressure on it constantly shifted her train of thought to other things.
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Ambrosine leaned to the side and stood on her toes to try and see this 'sorting hat'. Once the old woman moved aside, the tattered hat was revealed. She didn't think it very pretty at all, that was for sure…it was old and patched, but it was a legend of Hogwarts, one even someone of her age had heard about from her parents. This rag was the thing that would change her fortune for better or worse. It made her uneasy that an inanimate object had her Hogwarts career in its nonexistent hands, free to play with it as it willed. Well than, she'd better make a good impression. No rude thoughts, no bad thoughts…it wasn't right to judge things by how they looked. Perhaps this sorting hat truly was a noble little fellow, and treated students fairly. Ah, yes…that was what her father had said… "The sorting hat will put you where you belong. Slytherin, of course! Just like the rest of our family. Make me proud, Rose…" His words, more threatening than encouraging, echoed in her head, and she had to shake her head to stop his voice from ringing in her ears.
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She tried to balance on one foot to stop the all too familiar ache from again shooting throughout her body. It was kind of working, when she concentrated. 'All right…I'll just have to keep doing this for a little longer, until I'm sorted. After everyone's finished I'll ask a teacher to escort me to the hospital wing and everything will be fine after that.' Her balancing act was interrupted by a loud cough behind her, a loud croup originating in the bottom of the throat. Again in pain, Ambrosine reached into the pocket of her cloak, sure she had a tissue in there somewhere. Aha, there it was. Her hand had found it after a few minutes of searching, and she turned around, blue eyes meeting the boy who had emitted the cough. He was a pale, sickly looking boy, with wispy light brown hair and amber eyes.
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"…I…uhm…bless you." As soon as Ambrosine whispered that to the boy, she was sure that it had sounded stupid. To her, it sounded like she'd said she was blessing him, and that surely sounded at least a little bit arrogant.
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When he coughed again, she was reminded of the reason that she had turned around in the first place.
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"Adams, Michelle!" The old woman shouted, voice raspy.
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Ambrosine handed the amber-eyed boy a few tissues.
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"…For your cough." She whispered. But then it struck her that one probably wouldn't need tissues for a cough, but, rather, a losenger.
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A short, mature looking girl with long, sleek brown hair walked up to the stool that the sorting hat sat upon. Ambrosine glanced at her from the corner of her eye, only to see that it was the girl who had politely told her to please shut her mouth just a few minutes back.. She didn't want to be in whatever house that girl got sorted into, that was for sure…
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He looked at her with a quizzical expression on his face, and she'd realized that she'd embarrassed herself. Ambrosine's cheeks felt a little hot…what else could go wrong? She stuffed her other hand into her pocket and fished around for a cough drop. Ah, success! She pulled it out of her pocket and placed it atop the tissues and handed it to the boy, who appeared, if it was possible, to get sicker and sicker by the minute.
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"…Thanks." The boy said, his voice a soft whisper. He barely managed a smile before breaking out into a coughing fit again. Their host shot him the look of death.
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Ambrosine stayed silent, feeling a little responsible for the scolding that he'd received.
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"Slytherin!"
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"Black, Narcissa!" Croaked the woman. She was only on the letter 'B', and already her voice was getting hoarse.
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A tall, slim girl with light blonde hair walked up to the sorting hat, tossing her hair behind her shoulder elaborately as she did so. She seemed slightly arrogant, but there was no doubt in Ambrosine's mind that she was very pretty…and she supposed that pretty people did have the right to be at least a little arrogant…right?
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"Slytherin!" Shouted the sorting hat, and the girl whom she knew now as Narcissa hopped off of the stool and walked over to the Slytherin table to be greeted by a loud round of applause.
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The woman cleared her throat and glared at the Slytherins to settle down.
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"Black, Sirius!"
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The boy who answered to this name looked nothing like the girl who had sat on the stool prior to him. Ambrosine supposed that they could be related, somehow…though they looked like complete opposites of each other. Narcissa's manner was elegant if not arrogant, but Sirius seemed a little more laid back…though he did strike her, even at this young age, as a bit of a ladies man, with the way he sat, the smirk on his face. His hair was dark, much the opposite of Narcissa's, and fell into his face in a kind of sloppy perfection. It looked better like that than if he'd decided to brush it, Ambrosine thought…they must be related. They were both blessed with good looks…with that, Ambrosine decided that she thought too much. But then, thinking was getting her mind off of the pain that was currently surging through her leg.
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"GRYFFINDOR!" The hat boomed. Well, that seemed easy.
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Sirius' smirk only widened as he sauntered over to the Gryffindor table, hands in his pockets.
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"Cerdelia, Alicia!"
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"Slytherin!"
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"Collins, Ryan!"
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"Ravenclaw!"
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"Draven, Danielle!"
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"Hufflepuff!"
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"Emerson, Ambrosine!"
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Ambrosine blinked. Did she just hear her name? She took a step forward, looking at the sorting hat nervously. She swallowed. It felt like she had a huge lump in her throat.
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"MISS EMERSON! We don't have all night! Hurry it up!"
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Ambrosine nodded quickly and walked up to the stool, sitting upon it and placing the tattered hat upon her blond-haired head.
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'Ah...an Emerson…' Came the dreamy-sounding voice of the sorting hat. 'What house should we put a mind like yours in, eh?'
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'Please...please, put me in Slytherin…'
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'Slytherin? You must be kidding me, child. Your manner is nothing like that of the ones in that house, or the ones in your family…though, it is a…tradition…to be in Slytherin, isn't it?'
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Ambrosine nodded.
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'It is…just, please put me in that house…'
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'You would do much better in Ravenclaw, my dear, with a mind like yours…'
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'No…Slytherin, please…' She pleaded.
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But the hat continued.
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'Or even in Hufflepuff…you certainly act like a Hufflepuff, dear girl. You'd make tons of friends in Hufflepuff…'
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'My father will kill me if I'm not in Slytherin. Please, please, please…just leave me in Slytherin.'
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'But you won't do well in Slytherin…'
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'But I'll be disowned…'
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'No you won't.'
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'Yes I will.'
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'No you won't.'
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'Yes I will.'
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'No you won't.
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'Yes I will!'
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The hat seemed to emit a sigh, admitting defeat.
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"…Slytherin." The hat did seem a little less enthusiastic about its choice with Ambrosine than it did with the others.
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Ambrosine released a sigh of relief…phew. She wasn't going to be tossed out of her household, after all…her parents would still accept her as their daughter, for the moment. She stood up and set the hat down on its stool, and gratefully, yet painfully, made her way over to the Slytherin tables. The applause that she received certainly wasn't a large one, definitely not as large as Michelle's or Narcissa's.
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"…I…uhm…would you mind if I sit here?" She whispered to Narcissa, who had a few empty feet of bench bare next to her.
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Narcissa glanced to Ambrosine and shook her head.
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"…Thanks…" Ambrosine sat down, continuing to watch the rest of the sorting.
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"Evans, Lily!"
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A girl with slightly tanned skin and just below shoulder-length russet hair that gave the slight impression that she was Irish, though by the name Ambrosine could tell that she was not stepped up to the bench upon which the sorting hat sat. She seemed nice, Ambrosine thought…Lily didn't seem greedy or selfish or pompous at all.
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"Gryffindor!"
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Of course, figures. Someone who seemed nice couldn't be sorted into Slytherin…that was where all the cruel people went, wasn't it…
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Ambrosine watched intently as the sorting commenced. For some reason, she found observing people to be interesting…and this was no different. Each house attained more members, and the empty spots on the Slytherin benches were waning, as were the vacant seats on the other houses' benches.
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"Lupin, Remus!"
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Lupin. Hm, that was an unusual surname.
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None other than the pale, coughing boy that was behind her stepped up to the sorting hat. He looked like he was having a little bit of trouble standing, even, and his face was so pallid that he looked as though he were going to collapse at any moment. He seemed to be sucking on something, though, swishing around something with his tongue. And his coughing stopped. Well, that was good.
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"Gryffindor."
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"Malfoy, Lucius!"
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The boy who approached reminded Ambrosine strongly of Narcissa. He had a pale complexion, though not as pale as Remus', and light blond hair that he tied back in a ponytail, giving him a bit of a colonial kind of look. His clothes were nice, too, recently purchased shoes shone under the candlelight, teeth were perfectly straight and white…and Ambrosine noticed that his nails were trimmed. He looked as though he came from a rich family…
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"Slytherin!" The sorting hat only had to wait a few minutes before shouting, though its reply to him did not sound so hesitant. More sure of itself, the hat was, or so it seemed…
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Lucius smirked and walked over to the Slytherin table, taking a seat across from Ambrosine. She avoided making eye contact…people like that intimidated her. But then, nearly everything intimidated Ambrosine, so, nothing special there.
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"McIntosh, Isiah!"
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"Ravenclaw!"
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"Montague, Miriam!"
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"Hufflepuff!"
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"Nelson, Patrick!"
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"Gryffindor!"
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"Parré, Etienne!"
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"Ravenclaw!"
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"Pettigrew, Peter!"
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The boy who walked up didn't seem to be very sure of himself, in Ambrosine's opinion…but then, she hadn't been too sure of herself either…and it wasn't fair to judge. He just looked like a Hufflepuff, though, the sheepish yet nervous smile that rested on his pudgy face, and Ambrosine was surprised when the sorting hat shouted…
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"Gryffindor!"
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"Porter, Norman!"
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"Hufflepuff!"
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"Potter, James!"
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This one reminded Ambrosine just a little bit of the Black boy, mostly because of his dark, messy hair…though she did not deny that Black's did make him look a little more appealing, the way it was kept. The sorting hat barely got the chance to touch Potter's head before it screamed the house that he was sorted into.
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"Gryffindor!"
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Ambrosine rubbed her temples. She was getting tired…the newly accepted Slytherin first year hadn't had any sleep last night, having Hogwarts on her mind. The poor girl had been terrified into not sleeping because she was so nervous…and now her ankle was seriously throbbing with pain. The sorting was only half over, and it felt like it had been commencing for nearly forty-five minutes already. To be truthful, she didn't know whether or not she would be able to last for another forty-five.
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It would have been rude, in Ambrosine's eyes, to just leave in the middle of the sorting…and disrespectful to whomever it was who was being sorted, too. But she just couldn't stand the pain in her ankle…it was far too much to bear now. She stood up, to the best of her ability, and stepped over the bench upon which she had been sitting, trying not to make any noise.
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"Excuse me, Sir." Ambrosine whispered to the man whom she assumed was the head of her house. He was a thin man, average in height, clad all in black, skin pale. His dark brown hair was tied back with a single ribbon, also black in color. The man's dark, accusing eyes darted to Ambrosine…he had, apparently, not expected his silence to be interrupted, even though the students of his house were chattering silently right underneath his nose. Ambrosine suddenly felt a rush of fear sweep over her, and she had immediately wished that she had continued to stay seated. Oh well, it was a bit late for that…
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"…I…I was wondering if…" Ambrosine swallowed apprehensively. "…If you could, perhaps…I-if it's not too much trouble…show me where the hospital wing is. I…" She swallowed again, and glanced away before looking back at the man. His eyes…she was terrified each time she looked into his eyes. "…I…I think that I sprained my ankle."
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"You can wait until the sorting is over." He said monotonously, his face expressionless as he glanced back at the sorting hat, which had just placed a boy with greasy black hair into Slytherin house.
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Ambrosine sighed; admitting defeat she walked back to the table of Slytherins, and slid back into where she had been sitting before to endure the rest of the sorting. The students seated next to her were certainly talkative…not being as respectful as Ambrosine would have hoped. All she really wanted was peace and quiet, and the mindless chatter was beginning to give her a headache. What the first year really wanted to do was slump down over the table, lie with her head resting in her arms, eyes closed, comfortably resting. She didn't give into that, though, much to her discomfort…and she actually sat through the whole sorting.
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After it had finished, Ambrosine perked up slightly, sitting up in her chair, waiting for someone to say 'All right, this way to your dormitories.' But it never came.
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Instead, a raspy cough filled the large dining hall, and suddenly it was deadly quiet. One would have been able to hear a pin drop, of this there was no doubt. Her eyes shot to what acted as the front of the great hall, being adorned with a long, rectangular table, of which the teachers and headmaster of Hogwarts were seated. Ambrosine suspected the elderly, ancient looking man in the center was the headmaster. He must have been the one to cough, she thought, or clear his throat, if that had been what he had attempted.
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"I welcome you again to what I hope will be another fun, knowledge seeking filled year at Hogwarts. To the first years who do not yet know me, I am Albus Dumbledore, the headmaster of this school."
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So that was who he was…Ambrosine mentally scolded herself for being so stupid. Dumbledore was legend, he was. Wizards the world over had heard of Albus Dumbledore…and yet here she was, sitting in his midst, without a clue. But then…that meant that he was going to give a speech, as well…the annual welcoming speech to Hogwarts that she had heard of numerous times from her mother, given by that 'horrible Dumbledore fellow'. That meant she would probably have to sit tight for another half hour or so…when did it end? Any other day would have been fine, any other day she would have gladly hung upon every single word of the white-bearded wizard's speech…but not today. Today was a bad day. Ambrosine's head was aching with pain, and the throbbing feeling in her ankle had spread up her whole left leg, making it impossible to sit without feeling absolutely terrible. The fact that she did, despite her temporary ignorance, respect Dumbledore—apparently the other Slytherins begged to differ, she noticed, as they began to mutter, breaking the silence—and did, really, want to listen to what he had to say. But right now the headmaster deserved more respect, more attention than she could offer, and that added to her pile of problems.
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Dumbledore droned on and on, preaching about the school, his words becoming muddled in Ambrosine's head. What had he just said about school grounds…never go where? The prefects will lead you into the forbidden forest…
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What?
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Realizing what she had just thought that Dumbledore had said, she snapped out of her foggy-eyed trance and decided to pay attention.
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"You heard the headmaster!" Said the woman, spectacles low down on her pointed nose. "After the first feast of the school year, first years will be escorted by their house prefects to their common rooms. And do not, under any circumstances, go into the forbidden forest and other areas that are off-limits unless accompanied by a professor."
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As if by magic, many slabs of ham and beef instantly appeared on the students' smooth china plates, a mountain of bread rolls suddenly filling up the empty glass bowls that sat near the center of the table, many sweets like lollipops and chocolate suddenly appearing on the sides of the plates.
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Ambrosine glanced to her slightly tinted glass, which looked to be more like a transparent yellow goblet than a wine glass, or perhaps a fusion of the two. Instantly it filled with what appeared to be cider, and that was a welcome sight to the Slytherin first year. She picked up the glass and raised it to her lips, gulping down a generous amount of the liquid. It was warm, and it did little to ease her headache, though little was certainly welcomed. Ambrosine's appetite was nonexistent, and she sat at the table she just observed everybody else as they ate, chewing away at the food sloppily. She averted her gaze to the wooden table that her elbows were rested on, it being the only item of interest, at the moment. Suddenly the crevices in the old wood became oddly interesting.
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"Hey, Emerson."
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Ambrosine's head shot up, a nervous look on her face. Why would anyone want to talk to her?
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"…Y-yeah?"
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"What's wrong with your hair?" The girl said, raising her pale, bony hand to her own long light blond hair. It was the girl that Ambrosine knew to be Narcissa Black…she had actually been awake that part of the sorting ceremony.
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Ah, of course. To insult her.
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Ambrosine sighed. Well, she hadn't expected to be insulted for her hair this early on, but it figured, in a way. Her hair was a dirty blonde color, naturally, but when she was younger she wanted to have black hair, just like her favorite singer. So, the curious six-year-old wandered into her mother's room and used her wand to put a glamour-kind of spell on herself, and since she had done it incorrectly, she'd been unable to, since then, stop the tips of her hair from turning a dark grayish-black color, no matter how much effort she put into it. Ambrosine herself didn't mind her hair…even though it made her stand out far more than she would have liked. Ambrosine would have chopped her hair off right then if it wouldn't grow back right afterwards…she felt about two feet tall, if that.
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She said nothing.
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"It's got…black…things…at the ends. It looks like your hair got stuck in the fire and got burned."
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Narcissa had apparently made a lot of friends already…and all of them laughed riotously.
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"I…" Ambrosine swallowed. "…I…It's natural…"
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"You have naturally deformed hair?"
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This caused another uproar of laughter.
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"…I…uhm….yeah." Ambrosine said meekly, eyes drifting down to the wooden table again. It was a nice, familiar sight, the wood.
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"Look at me when I'm speaking to you." Narcissa snapped. "You were the one that the sorting hat was having trouble sorting, weren't you…"
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Ambrosine nodded slightly, wishing that the prefects would just lead them to their common rooms already.
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"What house did it want to put you in? Gryffindor? Or maybe Hufflepuff, with the way you're acting. Not a real Slytherin, are you?"
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"…I'm a Slytherin…" Ambrosine whispered.
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"A horrible one, that's for sure. Where's your pride? Are you even a pureblood?"
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By now most of the Slytherin table's eyes were on Ambrosine, and she could recognize the intimidating laugh of Michelle Adams.
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'Just don't say anything…don't show them that they're hurting your feelings…sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me…sticks and stones may break my bones…'
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"You're not, are you? A mudblood, perhaps?"
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'…But words will never hurt me…sticks…'
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"We have a muggle child at our table!"
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'…And stones may break my bones…'
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"You're not fit to be in Slytherin house."
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'…But words will never hurt me…sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me…'
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Ambrosine didn't fight back, she didn't argue back. She thought that if she just stayed quiet, maybe they'd leave her alone. She didn't even bother to say that she was a pureblood…her father had reminded her of that fact so many times that it remained engraved in her head, and most likely would still be there for the whole of her life, never to be eroded.
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"We're going to have fun with this one, girls…"
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Narcissa's friends all laughed shrilly, and Ambrosine found herself wondering why girls laughed like that. Why were they so cruel to her? What did she do to them?
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'Sticks and stones will break my bones but words will never hurt me…'
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"Too stupid to even respond when I talk to you?"
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'Words will never hurt me…'
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"Heh, looks like the Hufflepuff's dumb, as well! The Hufflepuff halfblood!"
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'Words will never hurt me…'
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It sounded like everyone at the table was laughing at her.
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Ambrosine raised her relatively pale hands to her ears, trying to make the sound go away. 'Sticks and stones will break my bones but words will never hurt me…'
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Proceeding what seemed to be forever, the insults seemed to stop. Ambrosine looked up, just slightly, nervously, and started to slowly remove her hands from her ears. It appeared that they had found another target, for now. She sighed softly, relieved…but made sure that her sigh was not so loud that their attention would shoot back to her. She was safe.
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After everyone—or, nearly everyone…Ambrosine heard a few students still slurping away greedily at their cider and plump, juicy meat—was finished nourishing themselves, the seventh year prefects stood up at the end of each table and strode down to the other end, where the first years were seated, to escort them down to the common rooms. The prefects, Slytherin prefects in particular, didn't appear too enthusiastic about the job, but knew it had to be done, nonetheless. Plus, fresh meat…that was always good, wasn't it? Ambrosine was pretty sure that that was what was going through their minds…
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Ambrosine mentally compared it to a miniature stampede, everyone dashing through the doors at once to cause somewhat of a traffic jam. She had already declared defeat. There was no way that she could make it through the hustling, bustling crowds of eager students, and decided that it would be better to bring up the tail of her bunch. She did need to find the hospital wing, as well…Perhaps whoever decided to show her where it was would also lead her back to the Slytherin dorms. That would sure be handy. Ambrosine moved to stand up and was once again reminded of the piercing pain in her ankle as it shot up throughout her body. It looked like the cider had really done more to ebb the pain than she had initially thought.
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There was now no sign of the headmaster, or of the old spectacled woman. Ambrosine sighed, a little disappointed…but hey, at least now she wouldn't get lost on her way back to the Slytherin common room. If she could make it there without falling, that was.
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She put one foot forward, then the other, her height falling by a few inches as she put pressure upon her left foot. Great, now she looked like a crippled hunchback…but that thought was out of her mind within a few seconds, her new focus being to actually walk without toppling over. It was a challenge, that was for sure, and she had to hold out her left arm, fingers brushing the cold stone wall for balance. It was difficult, but within time she found herself barely caught up with the rest of the Slytherin first years as they were led out of the great hall.
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Well, caught up with most of the Slytherins, at least. A boy, rather tall for a first year, with pale skin and light blonde hair tied back in an early American manner trailed behind the rest of the pack, Ambrosine included. He didn't seem to need to look up, something that made it seem as though he knew the school like the back of his palm, and could simply walk around the school with his eyes downcast on the floor as they were now, and not bang into any walls…successfully arriving at the destination where he had hoped to go. His hands were in his pockets, and he was listlessly walking in the direction of the Slytherin dungeons, not seeming too jubilant about it.
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For the first time that night Ambrosine felt the palpable sensation that someone was watching her, though she was unable to hear footsteps echoing her own. That thought made her uncomfortable, and by this she was driven to stand upright, straightening her back, her chin up. She took two regularly paced steps forward, wincing only slightly as she did this. She would be able to bear the pain, she thought…and she didn't want whoever was following her to make fun of her. She hoped it wasn't one of Narcissa's friends, sticking behind to poke fun and then report to their leader with news of the poor girl's faults. Hopefully, though, if she could at least walk properly…the person who was following her would grow bored with not finding anything to criticize. The throbbing pain in her ankle was getting worse as her gait improved.
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He raised his eyes from the ground and placed them on Ambrosine's back, then trailing down to her legs. There was something a little funny about the way she was walking. He furrowed his brow, a quizzical yet curious and somewhat amused expression crossing his pale features. His eyes searched her probingly, in a way that would make any girl uncomfortable, especially considering the intensity of his gray eyes.
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"You all right?" Came a surprisingly kind voice, surprisingly close to her.
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"…I-I-I-I'm fine." Ambrosine stuttered nervously, eyes ahead, not daring to look at him. He was probably mocking her. She felt her skin flush, grow hot with little embarrassed prickles, and she took a few steps forward, the pain in her ankle deathly now...though her stride remained perfectly poised.
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"Do you want a hand?" He asked, peering at her slightly before glancing ahead to the rest of the group who were quickly leaving them behind without so much as a second thought. "I know where the common room is myself. We could go at your pace. You sure you're all right?" His voice seemed doubtful.
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Ambrosine nodded, taking another step forward. Why did he care if she was all right, anyway? Using Narcissa as a model, the Slytherins wouldn't care about what happened to her, nor would they ask if she was all right. The Gryffindors had a rivalry with the Slytherins, so no Gryffindor would come to help her. Was he a Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw, perhaps? But if so, why was he walking in the direction of the dungeons…the location of the Slytherin common room? It didn't make much sense to her, and tons of ideas, thoughts, and various explanations swirled inside her head. As her recently shined shoe touched the ground she slipped and fell face forward, landing flat on her stomach. A loud bang followed contact. Ambrosine was thankful that she hadn't eaten anything, however…it was likely that it would have come back up if she had. The thump had caused some of the Slytherins ahead of her to turn to see what, or who, was causing all of the racket.
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"Keep up or you'll be sleeping on the floor tonight." Growled the seventh year that was leading the group of first years to the dungeons. He glanced back at her and kept walking, motioning for the rest of the assemblage to follow him.
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"Come on." The boy said, glaring up at the seventh year before glancing down at Ambrosine with a soft, helpful smile plastered on his face. "The hospital wing's only a floor up. It'll only take a few minutes for Madam Pomfrey to get you all better." He held out a pale hand to assist her to her feet.
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Ambrosine glanced to the side, meeting his hand with hers, blushing embarrassedly as their fingers touched. She wasn't used to conversing with humans, and she wasn't used to touching other humans. Sure, she liked to stroke the fur of amiable creatures such as cats, but humans were different. She avoided away from humans. Nonetheless, however, she allowed this boy to help her to her feet.
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He reached out and gently wrapped an arm about her waist to keep her from falling, "Walk slowly. You can lean on me for whatever support you need." He said simply before starting forward.
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An intense blush crept along Ambrosine's face, her pale skin now flushing a dark red. For someone who was not used to any human contact whatsoever, being touched there was pretty unwelcome. She felt a hot, tingly sensation sweep along her now tense skin, tense from being touched in a place that hadn't before been touched. She didn't like it. Ambrosine was a little thankful for the touchy-feely stranger who had decided to give her a hand…even though he made her feel awkward. She couldn't very well protest now, anyway…he had complete power over her, since she was crippled.
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It didn't take long for the two to arrive, and though the stairs were clear down at the end of the hallway, apparently situated there by someone who wanted people to walk more than there was need to, they made good time.
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The boy paused once they met the foot of the large staircase and bit his lip.
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"All right." A sigh. "There's only one way to do this without you falling through the false step," He said, pulling Ambrosine up into his arms like she was a child…or, perhaps, his newly wed bride whom he was happily carrying over the threshold.
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Ambrosine certainly would have protested the way he was holding her, his arm touching her upper legs in order to support her. Even so, she didn't like it, not one bit. Her skin was agitated by his touch, and only the throbbing ache in her ankle reminded her that she had to stay attached to him or suffer the consequences of being absolutely, positively alone, with nobody to help her. And, surprisingly, he seemed to know where he was going. That was a plus…she wouldn't get lost, and he would, hopefully…stick around to show her back to the Slytherin common room. Only upon being hoisted up into his arms did her eyes meet his, and realization struck her. He was a Slytherin…whose name, at the moment…she could not place.
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He nodded to her before starting up the steps, having to jump over two of them without even setting a foot on the stair. "Bloody things, those stairs. Never understood why the false steps were there, an' Mum an' Dad won't tell."
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As they reached the top of the stairs, he set her down gently, his grin only slight, though it was, obviously, there.
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"We're almost there," He said before wrapping his arm about her waist again and started forward. "And there you'll have a bed to lay on. Won't have to worry about me making you nervous anymore," He said, chuckling and playfully tickling her side with his fingers even though he'd easily figured by her actions that being this close to him was making her uncomfortable. As he did this, Ambrosine's skin prickled at his touch, and leaned in the opposite direction of his fingers to try and escape their tickling, only to be met with his waist, only to be closer to him. Ambrosine frowned…he'd cornered her, apparently. Even though he was helping her…leading her to what she assumed—and hoped—was the hospital wing, he was making her uncomfortable…and she wanted it to stop. She wanted it to stop as soon as humanly possible.
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Why did he continue to talk to her even though she remained silent? Perhaps talking to fill up the silence was his way of consoling himself, Ambrosine thought.
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As they finally reached two large doors that guarded the hospital wing, the boy leaned against them to open them, allowing Ambrosine to enter if she wished.
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There was a rattling and a groan from inside.
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"Not already…it's the first day!"
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He laughed and shook his head.
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"Madam Pomfrey, I think it's a sprained ankle," He said, as soon as Ambrosine had managed to get inside the room, rushing in after her to guide her to one of the newly made hospital beds.
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"Oh, Lucius, dear. Bring her over to one of the beds, ah, you're one step ahead of me." The plump witch cried upon seeing them, her voice noticeably less annoyed and more concerned now that she'd seen whom it was.
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With his help, Ambrosine managed to get to the beds, and lay down.
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"I'm going to try and find Professor Weiss and get our password. We're in the same house." Lucius said, looking to Madam Pomfrey with a friendly smile that one would not have thought possible of a Slytherin. "I'll be right back." With that, he skipped out of the hospital wing.
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Madam Pomfrey laughed and shook her head, strolling over to Ambrosine's bedside, a smooth china teacup in hand.
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"Here's some tea, dear. Drink up, it'll help you feel better." The Hogwarts healer sighed. "Lucius, a Slytherin. I don't believe it, but I guess it makes sense, with his father being so strict. Oh dear, I beg your pardon, I'm rambling." Madam Pomfrey looked to Ambrosine with a wry smile. She was always one for gossip, that was for sure.
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Ambrosine just politely nodded, raising the fragile cup to her lips and slowly sipping the heated contents. Mmm…tea. The beverage started to act like the cider at dinner did, slowly helping her headache to disappear, keeping her body warm so the rhythmic throbbing pain in her ankle would slow down, if only in just a small amount.
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"What happened, dear?"
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"…S-s…" She swallowed. Take a deep breath… "Someone banged into me and I fell…" Ambrosine stuttered, voice soft and barely audible. The tea was soothing her pain…and she wondered how. It was just simple, every day English tea, wasn't it?
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Madam Pomfrey nodded understandingly.
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"Often happens when herding the first years." She said with a comforting smile. "Though I don't think I've seen someone with this swollen of an ankle, only on their first day here. Did you tell anyone that you'd fallen? Minerva…" The nurse corrected herself. "…Professor McGonagall would have fixed you up quickly if you'd said something. Ah, no worries…" Madam Pomfrey lightly tapped Ambrosine's ankle with her wand, and the swelling seemed to instantly go down, the pain almost completely gone.
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"Thank you." Ambrosine said, sipping her Earl Gray.
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"…So, dear, I'm guessing you're in the same house as Lucius. Slytherin?" Madam Pomfrey said, breaking the silence.
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Ambrosine nodded, eyes on Madame Pomfrey, lips on the teacup.
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"You seem just about as much of a Slytherin as he is. I'm willing to bet that none of the others stopped to see if you were all right or showed even the least bit of concern." The nurse just out of training shook her head sadly.
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"T-they laughed." Ambrosine again sipped her tea, draining the smooth white cup of its contents. The liquid warmed her whole body, and she sighed. It was almost like taking a nice, hot bath…inhaling the steam so it warmed one's insides.
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"As would be expected. Slytherins are normally very heartless." The nurse said, shaking her head. Well, that was wonderful to hear…if everybody in Slytherin house was like Narcissa…Ambrosine was going to have a horrible seven years of schooling at Hogwarts…but she reminded herself that the goal was to learn first, make friends second…and of course, to not be godforsaken by her own parents.
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Lucius jogged into the hospital wing, panting. By the looks of it, he'd run down to the dungeons and back.
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"Nimble toad…" He stammered, rubbing his left hand.
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Madam Pomfrey sighed, "I'm going to have to take that paddle away from Matthew…He uses it far too much."
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"Eh, it's all right. I got the password." Lucius said, a soft smile on his pale face.
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Ambrosine couldn't help but wonder…why did he get hit in order to successfully fetch the password? He could have just stayed there, with the rest of Slytherin house, and left her to herself in the hospital wing. She really didn't understand how his mind worked, that was for sure…most everyone else was pretty simple to decipher. Most kids their age had their minds on toys and impressing their friends, making fun of the weak ones that wouldn't fight back. He was…well, there was something strange about him.
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"Better?" Lucius nodded to Ambrosine.
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"She'll be fine." Madam Pomfrey said, taking a few steps back to examine Ambrosine. "If that ankle of yours starts to hurt again, just come back up here. Tell a teacher, though, all right?" She smiled daintily and took the empty teacup from Ambrosine's bedside as the first year girl managed to stand up without being stricken with an immense amount of discomfort.
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"You think you can walk?"
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"I…yeah. I think so."
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"D'you want me to walk with you, or do you wanna try and find it yourself?"
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What was he, crazy?
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"I'm going to get lost if I go on my own." Ambrosine said, voice gentle. "I'd like it if you could show me where the common room is."
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"Thanks for bringing her, Lucius." Pomfrey said, her back to the two of them. She had moved to put the china teacup in the sink for rinsing.
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"No prob," Lucius offered amiably.
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"T-thank you, Madam."
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"It's my job, dear. Just watch out for yourself!"
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The two first years nodded and made their way out of the hospital wing, Ambrosine with her eyes on the floor, a grateful smile on her face.
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"That stair, jump over it." Lucius said. "You'll sink right through if you step on it."
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Ambrosine hopped over it, a bit surprised at her newfound flexibility.
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"That's the way."
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"…How do you know so much about this school already?"
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"Mum." Lucius grinned. "She told me a lot of stuff to keep me from being the butt of any jokes."
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She nodded. "You must have good parents."
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At this, the ponytailed boy laughed.
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"Good parents? Yeah, my mum, maybe…but Dad wanted to give me misinformation. He wants me to be laughed at…" A sigh.
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Ambrosine frowned.
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"Why?"
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"He says that I need to be broken. I need to become a 'true Slytherin,'" Lucius said the last two words mockingly, showing obvious dislike for his father.
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There was silence as they continued to walk down the stairs and down the main hall of Hogwarts. They took a few turns, down a few narrow alleyways, and through some stone corridors and down a narrow staircase, only to stop at a large, ancient looking statue of a large snake.
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"Nimble toad." Lucius said, watching the snake's mouth open and the jaws part only to reveal the gothically furnished Slytherin common room. It looked more like a dungeon with black leather couches, large chandeliers, and gothic windows—a place to look at rather than to live in. Ambrosine couldn't argue that she liked how it looked.
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"Ah, all the comforts of home." Lucius stretched his arms high above his head after stepping over the snake's lower jaws.
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"…Thanks." Ambrosine said, following him over the small half-foot tall barricade that was blocking her entrance to the common room. "I really appreciate your help."
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Before Lucius could swivel around and say 'No problem!', Ambrosine was walking up the stone steps to the girls' dormitories.
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. . . . f i n