No, her mind screamed as a collective gasp echoed through the hall, and the table farthest to her right began to cheer. Her eyes sought out her new friends whose faces registered a range of emotions, from shock to worry to confusion. She smiled weakly and slid off the stool to face McGonagall.
"Congratulations Miss York," McGonagall said warmly, but her eyes betrayed her words. She was clearly shocked as well and struggling not to confuse Emily. She nodded politely.
"Do I… have to go to the Slytherin table now?" she asked meekly. Professor McGonagall nodded almost apologetically. She took a breath, steeled herself, and threw one last look over her shoulder to her Gryffindor friends as she made her way to the Slytherin table.
Draco Malfoy, being one of the few that knew her story, was glaring daggers at Emily as she approached and she tried to remain poised. She sat down in an empty space directly across from Draco, next to the brunette girl she had seen earlier at breakfast.
"Hi, I'm Pansy!" squealed the girl. She had apparently judged Emily worthy of her attention, being that she was pretty and was now a Slytherin. Two other girls across from Pansy waved and greeted her in unison.
"Hi. I'm Emily York," she said cautiously with a weak smile.
"American?" Pansy wondered excitedly. "This is terrific! What school did you transfer from? Who are your parents? You're hair is gorgeous – where do you get it done?" Pansy shot a barrage of questions at Emily and she nervously ran a hand through her dark tresses, unsure how to respond.
"Pans, can't you see she's overwhelmed. Give her a chance to breathe, why don't you?" Draco Malfoy interjected before Emily could speak. She gave him a questioning look but he brushed it off and returned to his food.
"Of course, Drakie. You're right. I'm sorry," Pansy apologized to Emily, but continued to chat idly about the latest witch fashions and which quidditch players were the cutest and how it was simply unacceptable to go anywhere other than Madam Melania's Salon. Emily ate quickly and tried to block out Pansy's words while still appearing to be paying attention.
---
When dinner was over Professor McGonagall approached the Slytherin table and asked Pansy to show Emily to the Slytherin dormitory where she would, of course, be living. Pansy and the other two girls, whose names Emily learned to be Tracey Davis and Daphne Greengrass, led her out of the Great Hall and down a set of stairs to the left of the bigger marble stairs. Once they were at the bottom they traveled a path through a labyrinth of corridors that Emily was sure she would never remember and finally arrived at a damp, empty stretch of stone wall.
"Pure-blood," Pansy said proudly and a hidden stone door slid open. Emily followed the girls into a long, low room with rough stone walls. The room was filled with a greenish glow from the lamps hanging overhead. There were already some Slytherins lounging in high-backed chairs around the fireplace when they arrived. Pansy led the girls through the common room, though, to a hallway at the back. Two longer hallways branched off on either side, one for the girls and one for the boys, containing a number of smaller rooms.
"This is our dormitory," Pansy said when they had reached the very last room at the end of the hallway. The room was furnished similar to the common room, with rough stone walls and hanging green lamps. Five four-poster beds lined the walls, each covered in luxurious green-and-silver silks comforters with matching pillows and curtains. The only difference was that this room had windows, charmed, of course, to show the Hogwarts grounds, even tough they were far below ground under the lake.
"This bed's yours," Pansy pointed to one at the far end of the room and then flopped down onto her own bed, which was at the prime location to look out of the windows. Tracy and Daphne joined Pansy on her bed to continue their gossiping while Emily stood at the window, trying to accept her new surroundings.
"I think I'm gonna go explore the castle," she told them after a minute, eager to get away from their incessant giggling and squealing. They hardly seemed to notice when she left.
---
She was almost back to the common room when a hand shot out from a shadowy alcove and grabbed her elbow roughly, pulling her into the shadows.
"You don't belong here," hissed a familiar voice. A faint light filled the alcove, radiating from the tip of his wand, and Draco Malfoy's face appeared before her. "I don't know what you're playing at but I know your story, remember? There's never been a mudblood in Slytherin. How did you do it?"
"I don't know what you're talking about," Emily spat back at him. "I didn't do anything. Do you think I wanted to be placed here?"
"Fine, don't tell. I'll find out anyway," he said ominously. He extinguished the light and turned on his heel.
"Why didn't you say anything at dinner?" Emily asked when Draco was a few feet away, and he froze. He turned his head slightly over his shoulder and his profile was highlighted by the green light.
"My intentions are my own," Draco answered ambiguously and then stalked off toward the dormitory entrance.
Emily stood stunned in the alcove for a moment before gathering herself and following Draco out of the common room. When she reached the hallway, however, Draco had already disappeared so she headed to the staircase that led up to the entrance hall. She didn't know exactly where she was going; Hermione hadn't shown her the Gryffindor common room, and she wasn't even sure she'd be allowed in there now. So instead she decided to go to the library in hopes that Hermione, or someone she knew, would be there.
Emily was in luck. The library was mostly deserted, being that most students were already headed to the quidditch pitch for tonight's game. There was one study table illuminated, however, and Emily quickly recognized the brown curly head bent over a large book.
"Hey," she said as she dropped into the seat opposite Hermione. Hermione's head snapped up and a relieved smile spread across her face.
"Emily, hi!" Emily relaxed with her friendly greeting. She had worried that Hermione might not have even talked to her since she became a Slytherin. "I am so sorry. Is it completely terrible?"
"So far," Emily shrugged. "I've been stuck listening to Pansy, getting stared at in the hallways, and to top it off I was attacked by Malfoy. I think."
"What happened?" Hermione asked worriedly.
"I'm not sure really. First, he kinda stuck up for me at dinner, but then in the common room he dragged me into the shadows and told me that I didn't belong in Slytherin and threatened that he would find out 'what I'm up to'. It was really strange." The corner's of Hermione's mouth dipped a little.
"Well, to be honest you don't belong in Slytherin. It's very strange, actually. I've been researching since after dinner and I haven't found a single case where a muggle-born has been sorted into Slytherin."
"Muggle-born… that's not what he called me. Something about mud, maybe?" Emily bit her lip thoughtfully.
"Mudblood," Hermione said dryly.
"Yeah, that was it. What's it mean?"
"It's a very mean, derogatory term that respectful wizards don't use. It means 'dirty blood'. Some wizards, the Malfoys especially, think that if you aren't born from pure-blood parents you aren't as good as they are."
Emily shrugged, "Well that's just stupid." Hermione nodded in agreement.
"So am I not allowed to talk to you guys anymore, now that I'm a Slytherin?" Emily asked nervously.
"Absolutely not! In fact, I think this is a great opportunity to promote a little inter-house friendship. With the war approaching we need to stand together more now than ever." Emily smiled.
"Good, I don't know what I would do if all I had to talk to were Pansy and her sheep," she said, referring to Tracey and Daphne. "Does that mean I can sit with you at the quidditch match tonight?"
"Of course. We should go actually; the match will start in twenty minutes and Ron will kill us if we aren't there to see every minute." With that Hermione levitated her stack of books back to their appropriate shelves and the two girls headed out to the quidditch pitch.