3. Getting Settled
The crowd cheered as Callie did a double take. Of all the houses, she was sure it wouldn't be Slytherin. It just didn't seem to fit. The hat had said she was determined, unstoppable when it came to achieving her goals. Yet she'd never imagined herself belonging to the same house that He Who Must Not Be Named himself had also belonged to. The house of the cunning, and in many cases - as she'd been told - the house of the wicked.
She made her way down to the Slytherin table and was greeted by a girl several years older than her. "Welcome to Slytherin House," the girl said, extending her hand for a shake. "I'm Gemma Farley. Fifth-year, prefect."
"Good to meet you," Callie said, a little bit dazed from her surprise sorting. She took a seat near a group of fellow first-years, and turned to watch the last two boys get sorted - Ronald Weasley went to Gryffindor, while Blaise Zabini joined Callie in Slytherin.
Following the ceremony, Dumbledore stood up and said a few words, but Callie was too distracted to really pay attention. She knew as well as anyone the reputation that Slytherin had for turning out more evil witches and wizards than any other house. Of course, her father had tried to set her straight, explaining that not all Slytherin witches and wizards were bad, and that wicked people could be found in every house.
"Slytherins are ambitious," he'd said. "They don't let anything stop them from getting what they want. Many people will do anything to get their way, even if it causes harm to others. But not everyone finds it necessary, nor is inclined, to abandoned their morals. Ambition itself isn't a sin. It's how you choose to attain your ends."
Still, it was hard not to think of Slytherin as the "bad house."
She hadn't spoken a whole lot at the feast, but as she unpacked her belongings in her underwater dormitory, Callie listened in as her roommates chatted.
"My family's one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight," a girl with short dark hair proudly announced. Callie remembered her introducing herself at the feast as Pansy something.
"So is mine," another girl replied in a tone that sounded rather bored.
"Oh really?" Pansy said. "What was your name again?"
"Greengrass. Daphne."
"Mine's one of the Twenty-Eight too," a chubby girl named Millicent piped in. "Bulstrode." Looking over to Callie, she asked, "What about you?"
But Callie didn't know what they were talking about. "Sorry," she said, "what's the Sacred Twenty-Eight?"
As though it should've been obvious, Pansy replied, "The Twenty-Eight families that are still pureblood? What's your name?"
"Warbeck. Callie Warbeck."
"Warbeck," Pansy mused. "Doesn't ring a bell."
"I guess it wouldn't," Callie replied. "I'm a half-blood."
Pansy and Millicent stopped dead in their tracks, staring at Callie as though she'd grown two heads. Daphne merely glanced in her direction, but continued on unpacking. The fifth and final girl assigned to their room was named Tracey Davis; she had a rather anxious look on her face.
"You're muggle-born?" Pansy asked, a strong hint of distaste in her tone.
"Half-blood, I said," Callie corrected.
"Yes, so you have one muggle parent. Making you muggle-born."
"Muggle-borns don't have any magical parents," Callie explained, starting to get annoyed. "My dad's magic."
Everybody was quiet for a moment, before Pansy spoke again. "I can't believe you got into Slytherin," she said, shaking her head.
"Why not?" Callie shot back defensively. Though she still didn't believe it herself, she had the strong sense that she was being attacked by this girl.
But it was Millicent who chimed in, "Salazar Slytherin was all about blood purity. He didn't even want muggle-borns let in to Hogwarts."
"I said I'm not a muggle-born!" Callie nearly shouted.
"But your mum's a muggle," Pansy said. "Close enough."
Callie didn't know what to say to these girls. For one thing, they just couldn't seem to grasp the difference between a half-blood and a muggle-born. For another, who cared how much "magical blood" a person had? As long as you were capable of performing magic, then you were magic - no matter who else in your family was or wasn't.
Apparently Pansy had made up her mind about Callie, because she turned on Tracey next. "And you?" she said rather rudely.
Tracey seemed to shrink as she replied nervously, "Well, my parents are magical, and all of my grandparents are too. So, I guess that's pretty pure."
"Hmph," was all Pansy had to say about that.
Callie climbed into her bed that night feeling disheartened. Between the sorting and her awful new roommates, Hogwarts suddenly didn't seem as exciting as it had only a few hours ago. Plus the dungeons were cold, uncomfortably so. Pulling shut the green curtain around her bed, she cuddled up under the covers and hoped that the next day would be a little more fulfilling than the first.
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Gemma Farley popped into the girls' room as they were dressing the next morning. "Quickly, please," she said. "Professor Snape wants all the first years in the common room in five."
Pansy, Daphne, and Millicent went on ahead, while Callie and Tracey hung back.
"Hey," Tracey said once they were alone, "That Pansy's a real git."
"You noticed too?" Callie said. "What's all that pureblood bullocks she was on about?"
Tracey shrugged. "Dafty probably thinks she's better than everyone because her family's all magical. Almost like royalty."
"What difference does it make? Muggles have magical children all the time. Blood has nothing to do with it."
"I guess some people think it does. Stupid, eh?"
Callie decided that she had at least one friend amongst her housemates. Thankfully. The two joined the rest of the first years in the common room, waiting for their head of house, Professor Snape, to show up.
"I hear he's real good to Slytherins. Makes up for the points everyone else takes away from us," someone in the crowd commented.
The door to the common room swung open, and Professor Snape, dressed all in black, practically barged in as though he were right pissed about something. Everyone fell silent as he stood before them.
"I am Professor Severus Snape, your head of house and potions master of Hogwarts," he introduced himself coldly. "For the next seven years, you will be representing not only Slytherin House but also myself, as I am responsible for the manner in which you conduct yourselves both in and outside of the classroom. Therefore, I expect nothing less than exceptional academic performance and exemplary behavior - in my class, in all your other classes, and anywhere you find yourselves in this castle.
"As I'm sure you are aware," he continued, "the house which holds the most points at the end of the year will be awarded the Hogwarts House Cup. Slytherin has received this honor for the last six years, and I don't intend to have that record broken. Do as I have just said and you will be rewarded greatly. Do not make me take away points from my own house. Understood?"
Everyone seemed too intimidated to speak, but there were nods of assent all around the room.
"Very well," Snape concluded. "Now get yourselves together and join the rest of your house in the Great Hall." With that, he turned on his heel and left them all slightly stunned.
"He's a real ball of sunshine," Callie said sarcastically.
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The first week wasn't as bad as Callie had feared it would be. Though she certainly didn't warm up to her three pureblood roommates - nor they to her - she found that Tracey was a nice girl, and someone to sit next to in class and at mealtimes. The classes themselves were a bit of a mixed bag. Her father had been right about Professor Binns, who was in fact still the History of Magic professor - and a ghost! Yet even his otherworldliness wasn't enough to hold Callie's attention for more than ten minutes or so. She couldn't wait for that class to be over.
Astronomy was much more interesting, but difficult; so many stars to remember. Callie would've liked to just enjoy looking at them rather than having to memorize all their names. Charms and Transfiguration were exciting, because these were two classes that dealt with what Callie thought of as "traditional" magic - making things move without touching them, or turning one object into another.
The biggest letdown, so far, had been Defense Against the Dark Arts. Callie couldn't help but wonder about her fascination regarding dark magic, and if that had anything to do with how she'd been sorted. But she had no desire to practice dark magic, only study it. However, the instructor, Professor Quirrell, was the absolute last person she'd have expected to teach either dark magic or defense against it. He was a nervous-looking man with a stutter who seemed to believe in the myth that garlic could ward off vampires. For that alone, she felt he had no clue what he was talking about, and worried what would happen if she ever really had to fight against dark magic.
By Friday, though, she was feeling okay about everything. The Hogwarts library would surely have something more helpful than what Quirrell had to offer, and with practice she'd recognize the stars eventually. Perhaps she could write her dad for history help. She made a mental note to include that in her first letter home.
The only thing left was her first Potions class, and she was looking forward to it. After Defense Against the Dark Arts, Potions was the subject that interested her most. Aside from the minor disaster with that chemistry set back home, she'd had quite a lot of fun mixing substances to see what resulted. And potions was pretty much the magical equivalent of chemistry.
But she wondered what it would be like having Snape for a teacher. According to the upperclass Slytherins, he favored his own house above the others. On the other hand, he was the unfriendliest professor she'd met so far. And his standards were especially high for the Slytherins, as their performances reflected on him.
Either way, the exciting thing was that they'd be having Potions class with the Gryffindors - including Harry Potter.
"Our new... celebrity," Snape commented as he read off the boy's name during roll call. Callie and Tracey exchanged a glance. For whatever reason, the man seemed to have it out for Potter, a stark contrast to everyone else who fawned over him. Snape peppered him with questions - not about being the infamous "Boy Who Lived" or about the lightning bolt scar on his forehead - but about the subject at hand, potions. And the poor boy was at a loss every time.
"Thought you wouldn't open a book before coming, eh, Potter?" Snape finally asked.
Read the bloody book this weekend! Callie told herself.
The potions master eventually set them to work brewing up a cure for boils. The instructions were simple enough, but Callie stiffened when Snape came up behind her, looking over her shoulder as she added crushed snake fangs to her and Tracey's shared cauldron.
"Lower that flame, Warbeck," he said quietly but firmly, "before you blow us all to pieces."
"Sorry, sir," she replied. Her hands were shaking, and she hoped he didn't notice.
"Steady yourself, or else have Davis take over the stirring."
She was torn between continuing on to try and prove her competency to him, or simply switching with Tracey to get him off her back. She chose the latter. Thankfully he didn't stick around.
"Merlin's beard, he's tough," Callie sighed.
"Yeah but did you see the way he went at Potter?" Tracey replied. "Would've been less brutal if he'd hexed him."
The girls spent the next hour working on their potion, and Callie regained her composure enough to take over the brewing again. However, she nearly flipped over the cauldron when a sudden shriek made her jump out of her skin. Somebody had let their potion spill out all over the floor, and people were screaming and jumping up onto their chairs so as not to get burned by it. One of the boys responsible for the spill was already covered in boils; Snape chided him and sent him off to the hospital wing.
And then he inexplicably turned on, of all people, Potter.
"Why didn't you tell him not to add the quills?" he said. "Thought he'd make you look good if he got it wrong, did you?"
"I'd say it was because he's a Gryffindor," Callie told Tracey later on during lunch, "but he could've gone after any one of them. Wonder what Potter did to piss him off so bad."
From that point on, Callie kept her eye on Harry Potter, watching out for any reason why Snape hated him so much. But as the weeks and months went on, her classmate only seemed to prove himself more and more worthy of admiration than hate. It was almost unbelievable...