Hermione's mind was heavy with a conglomeration of unpleasant emotions and foreboding presumptions as she descended the spiraling staircase that led up to Dumbledore's office. She found Gemma Farley waiting for her at the bottom of the stairs―and the cheerful splendor she had sported earlier was now absent.
"Hello, Hermione," she lukewarmly greeted.
"You've heard?" Hermione asked―though it was more of a certain observation than a question.
The prefect nodded. "Ian informed me and the other prefects. Our Head Boy ordered me to escort you back to the common room. I'm very sor―"
"Please," Hermione sighed, "don't apologize. I'd rather not become a pity-case on my first day."
Gemma chuckled lightly. This girl certainly had spunk, she thought. Gemma had always wished for Slytherin to become more integrated; when Slytherin wasn't being dubbed as the House of evil, it was being regarded as one based on supremacy. And walking epitomes of the House's negative stereotypes (Draco Malfoy for example) didn't lessen that demonizing image…
"Shall we proceed?" Gemma suggested with a smile. They walked in silence through the series of corridors and down several staircases. It was when they had descended into the dungeons that Gemma spoke.
"You aren't the first, y'know..."
"What?"
"You aren't the first Muggle-born to be put in Slytherin," she informed. "They're rare, but there's certainly been a fair amount. I got curious at one point and did some research: the first time a wizard of your status was made a member of Slytherin was 1001 AD, eleven years after Salazar Slytherin's departure, I believe."
Hermione grew curious. "What was their name?"
"Arnold Bowers," Gemma replied. "He was born to two Muggles who had participated in the hunting of magical beings. They disowned him once his magical abilities were discovered, leaving him homeless and bitter towards Muggles. He was very embracing of his life in the magical world. His Housemates were mostly courteous."
"Mostly?"
Gemma grinned. "Come on, Granger. Not all Slytherins were anti-Muggle-borns, but it should be no shock that many shared the beliefs of the founder."
"I suppose that's true," she conceded.
"Anyways," Gemma continued, "his became quite the feared name after he graduated; he fed his parents to a pack of werewolves at the age of twenty-two! He deliberately led them to a secluded location in the woods outside their home to be devoured under the full moon. Arnold had paid the werewolves off to do his dirty work, and afterwards established a loyal understanding with the lycan community. This bond stays strong between his descendants and smaller groups of werewolves to this very day."
Hermione shivered. "How horrid―yet somewhat endearing."
"No kidding. And, obviously, Muggle-borns continued to be sorted into Slytherin occasionally throughout Hogwarts's history. While it isn't a particularly frequent happening, that shouldn't suggest that the number of Muggle-borns Slytherin has had is microscopic."
Had Hermione's brain not already hosted a plethora of academic ambitions and silent fears, Gemma's information would most certainly have given her much to think about. After Gemma spoke the password before the common room's entrance, the girls walked through the nearly empty common room's sitting area. Hermione spotted Draco Malfoy sitting with four other first years, hissing venomously. The group consisted of Crabbe, Goyle, a black boy by the name of Blaise Zabini, and a girl named Pansy Parkinson. When she felt the pentad's rancorous glowers penetrating her sense of security she quickened the pace of her steps.
Gemma―having hurried alongside the intimidated first year―seized Hermione's wrist once they stood before the stairs leading up to the girls' dormitories. "I'm certain…" she panted. "…that Professor Dumbledore advised you to report any further bullying?"
"He did―and I will," she tersely responded. "Thank you very much, Gemma."
She hurried up the stairs without another word.