It was only when she dragged herself away from Tom's face that Hermione noticed the girl beside her, the blonde girl, was in a wheelchair.
"Yes," the girl said to Hermione, "I'm in a wheel chair. You can put your eyes back into their sockets now. Unless, of course, that dumbstruck look is what you're going for." She raised a nearly invisible eyebrow.
Hermione had to swallow back her first reaction, which was to apologize immediately. Draco's eyes on her reminded her that she was no longer Hermione Granger. She was Hermione Zabini, and it was time she acted like it.
"Hermione Zabini," Hermione offered her hand instead of apologizing, her face impassive.
"Ashley Parkinson. Everyone calls me Ash though." The girl smirked. "You can too, I suppose."
"Thanks a million, Ashley." Hermione smirked back. She had been practicing her smirk for some time now, and only two days ago had Draco told her he was finally satisfied with it.
"No, seriously," the girl didn't smile, "it's Ash."
Parkinson, a relative of Pansy's then. How strange. The girl didn't remind her of Pansy at all. For one, this girl's nose was small and narrow, unlike Pansy's pug nose. This girl was skinner too, thin and willowy. Pansy was large and man-like. Ash wasn't very pretty though. Her face was indrawn and pale, her skin nearly the same colour as her hair. She looked like she'd never been out in the sun.
"Come on, then," Ash sighed. "I suppose I better show you where you're staying. You're in my room. You had better not snore."
"I don't," Hermione said in way of reply.
She let Ash lead the way. Before going, she turned back to Malfoy. He nodded once, giving her his approval. So, she hadn't messed up just yet.
"Come on, Sally," Ash said to a small tanned girl, sitting with a book in her hand. Sally looked up at Ash, then Hermione, then slowly put her book down, pushed back her chair, stood up and joined them. She didn't rush herself.
Together they walked. Neither of the girls talked, so Hermione didn't either. Their footsteps seemed loud in comparison.
"Welcome," Ash said, once they were at the Slytherin Entrance, "to Slytherin House, the best house Hogwarts has to offer." She smiled, just for a second, turned to the wall, and a stone door that Hermione hadn't previously seen slid open, once Sally had muttered the password, "Time."
The Slytherin Common room was exactly as Hermione might have pictured it. It was dark and somewhat claustrophobic. The stone roof was very low, and dim green lamps hung from it, their purpose seeming to be to create more shadows than light. A fire cackled and Slytherins sat around it, in carved steal chairs. There was something almost menacing in the scene; she could see no faces but silhouettes. The fire was the only source of warmth.
Hermione wished, illogically, that Malfoy was here.
"Sit, Zabini," Ash said, gesturing towards a chair.
"Thank you," Hermione said, and accepted the chair. It felt strange to be called Zabini, but she was quick on the uptake. She didn't think Ash would appreciate too many lapses of concentration.
She felt uneasy as she looked into Ash's strange titled eyes. They were glittering at her, and they seemed to change colours. They seemed green, and then blue, then a mixture of both, but perhaps Hermione was just tired.
Sally didn't seem interested in either of them. She picked up her book, and continued to read. Hermione wasn't sure what to do. Ash was still looking at her. Hermione focused all her energies into not revealing her discomfort. It was hard work.
The stone door slid open and Hermione looked to see whom it was. It was Malfoy, followed by another boy, and Tom Riddle. Malfoy was leading the way. He came to where she was seating, dragged up a chair, and sat down. "Hermione," he said, "why don't your introduce me?"
"Of course, Draco," she replied, her tone as level as his. She heard, rather than saw; the two other boys sit down near her. "This is Ash Parkinson and this is Sally - I'm sorry, Sally, I didn't get your last name."
"Bishop."
"This is Sally Bishop. This, Sally, Ash, is Draco Malfoy."
"Malfoy, eh?" Ash said, looking him up and down. "What an interesting family history you have."
He nodded. "The Parkinson history is equally as interesting. I'm afraid, however, that I don't have much knowledge about the Bishop family."
Sally looked up, and didn't look back down at her book. "It's Pure-Blood, if that's what you mean." Her tone was defensive, her head tilted.
"Well," Hermione said, not wanting to be left out, "I'm sure he, as I had, presumed as much."
Ash laughed and Sally, after a moment looking at Hermione, laughed also. Hermione could tell from Draco eyes that he was impressed.
"Tom Riddle."
It came out of nowhere, and Hermione was caught of guard. She turned to face Tom and said, "Excuse me?"
"Tom Riddle," he repeated, in the same quiet tone and slowly offered her his hand.
"Hermione Zabini," she said and shook his hand briefly. It was cool under her touch. She looked him straight in the eyes. They were so dark, she felt like she could fall into them and get lost. She couldn't deny the fact to herself that she was scared.
"It's a pleasure to meet you." The group had gone quiet. Ash was watching them carefully; so was Draco.
"Likewise," she said. Her throat felt very dry.
He was draining. She physically and mentally felt tired, just looking at him.
"Weasley," Tom said and turned to the other boy, "aren't you going to introduce yourself?"
Hermione had prepared herself for many things, but not this. A Weasley in Slytherin! But what was more shocking was the fact that he was practically identical to Ron, if not for the bored and smirking expression on his face.
"Law Weasley," he said. "How do you do, Hermione Zabini? I'm sure you'll like it here at Hogwarts." His tone was insufferably bored and monotone. He didn't mean a word of what he said, he made that perfectly clear. He turned to Tom afterwards, his meaning blatant: Is that enough for you, Tom? He hadn't stretched out his hand, a mark of rudeness at this time, according to Draco.
Hermione decided to take a risk. She offered him her own hand. It wasn't normally done, but Hermione wanted to show this Weasley boy that she would not appreciate his bad manners. It annoyed her more, because he looked so closely like one of her best friends.
He took her hand reluctantly, his face sulky. His blue eyes were narrowed.
Hermione openly smiled at him; it was not a pleasant smile.
Draco was smirking, as was Tom.
Ash and Sally exchanged a look.
The boys seemed to have already made their introductions to each other.
"How do you two know each other?" Ash asked Malfoy and Hermione, after a couple of minutes of silence.
"Our families are old friends," Hermione said. Don't give too much away, Draco had said. Never make them overly suspicious, but remember to keep an air of mystery about you. You do not want them to get too interested in your business.
Malfoy nodded in affirmation. "We've known each other for a long time, since we were very young." He smiled over at Tom.
What did that mean? Why did Malfoy say that? Why had he smiled at Tom like that? There had been an air of suggestiveness there that had not been part of their plan. She fought the urge to elbow him in the stomach, and smiled also.
That was when it hit Hermione, the power Draco actually had. Any lie that Malfoy fabricated, she would have to go along with. She couldn't oppose him, that would make everybody suspicious. She couldn't help looking at him then. He was enjoying this, telling lies, deceiving these people. He was a good actor, but she could read him quite well.
"I think I'm going to go to bed, if you'll excuse me," Sally said, after another lapse in conversation.
"I think I'll join you," Hermione said, relief flooding in her chest. She needed a rest.
Sally and Hermione stood. "I'll be with you in a few minutes," Ash said. "I'm not tired just yet."
"Goodnight, Hermione," Tom said softly as she began to leave.
She wanted to run to the bedroom but forced herself to walk away slowly after Sally. She hardly glanced at the room - stone walls, plain, cold - but threw the curtains around her bed. She changed into her new, modest nightdress and hoped into her new bed.
She found though that she was so tired that she couldn't sleep. The room was too dark, the bed too hard, the temperature too cold, and the people sharing too quiet.
She lay there for a long time, thinking back into her old life where the fires were warm, the beds soft, the conversation not forced, the people friendly, the laughter real and the smiles not smirks. It seemed like a lifetime ago when she was reading over her perfect Potion's essay at the breakfast table, scolding Ron for talking with his mouth full, and smiling over at Harry when he agreed with her that it really would be preferable if "you just waited until you'd swallowed."
She heard Ash come in nearly a half an hour later and wiped the warm tears that had been streaming down her face away. There was no Ash could see, her curtains were still drawn, but Hermione had made too many sacrifices to take any chances.
Hermione wondered, not for the first time nor the last, what she had gotten herself into.
I know, not much in this chapter. Thought I'd just introduce the couple of Slytherins without jumping into the plot – and Tom. Don't think the OCs will have a big part, just side characters. Sorry this took me a while to get up, I had exams. Yuck, so did not go well. I had to skip maths.
Anyway…Thanks to: hplucky, seghen,illyria-light, dark88poet, Alenor, for their reviews of the last chapter.
Question: Where do you lot get your pen names from? Just wondering…