Another reupload!
Originally published in 2017 & again in 2019.
Chapter One
"Jacob Henry Aster, if you don't start moving those feet faster, I'm going to plant one of mine up your arse!"
"My trunk's heavy!" my twelve-year-old brother complained, puffing along behind me as we dashed through King's Cross Station pushing our trolleys at breakneck speed. Ugh, bloody Hufflepuffs. They were such softies.
"You know what's gonna make it heavier?" I asked, steering my trolley through the crowd of Muggles clogging the place and ignoring their scandalized looks as we barreled through. "Dragging your trunk all the way to Hogwarts because we missed the bloody train!"
I could hear him muttering something very unflattering under his breath, and I made a mental note to ask him where the bloody hell he learned that kind of language. As we kept ducking and weaving through people, I tripped on my shoelace – of course – and shouted a panicked, "Fuck!"
Oh. That's where.
Finally, the platform we had been running towards appeared in view – or, at least, the barrier. The brick wall separating platforms 9 and 10 grew closer with each step, and I glanced at my watch: 10:58. We had two minutes to board that bloody train, and if Jacob didn't step on it —
10:59. Merlin, if I missed the train, Davey would never let me live it down…
We passed through the barrier with thirty seconds to spare, and I breathed a sigh of relief as we emerged onto Platform 9 ¾, the scarlet steam engine billowing smoke into the already thick air. Jacob nearly collapsed behind me, his round face red and beaded with sweat. I clapped him on the shoulder.
"All right, go find a compartment with all your little bumblebees," I said, referencing the Hufflepuffs, whose school colors were yellow and black. An unfortunate combination, if you ask me. "And what are the rules?"
My brother gave me a dry look that was reminiscent of mine. Damn, I needed to watch myself around him more. "Don't talk to you or your mates, don't associate with any of the Slytherins, and don't eat more than three Chocolate Frogs or else I'll be sick."
"Atta boy," I said, ruffling his hair, and he batted my hand away, though he was smiling slightly. "Now, go on; scram."
He looked around nervously before tugging on my sleeve. I raised a brow at him, hoping whatever he had to say, he'd make it quick. Most of the students had already boarded the Hogwarts Express, and I wasn't keen on having to search for a compartment forever.
"Can I hug you before we go back?" he whispered, and I couldn't help my smile.
Tardy little prat though he was, I loved my brother more than anything. It wasn't often I got to show him, either. When he started Hogwarts the year before and got Sorted into Hufflepuff, I had made myself a vow that I would protect him as much as I could from my own House. It was bad enough that I was a half-blood trapped in a place where pure-bloods were placed on a pedestal and lauded as better than everyone else, and though I had kicked and clawed my way to a better standing amongst them, I didn't want to give them any ammunition to use against me, my brother being one of them. So to protect him, I had to act like I didn't care – and trust me when I say it's one of the hardest things I have ever done.
"Yeah, 'course," I said, wrapping my arms around his shoulders as he briefly squeezed around my middle. Sheesh, this kid was going to be tall. I was taller than average myself, my height only more pronounced due to the heeled shoes I always wore, but his head was already up to my chest. Oh, wait, gross.
We seemed to realize this issue at the same time, for he suddenly drew back from me, looking slightly repulsed, the git.
"Love you," I said as he wheeled his trolley towards the train. "And behave, and get good marks!"
He only waved over his shoulder, and I watched him go before he was lost in the throng of first-time parents still clogging the platform.
Figuring I should get a move on, I turned my own trolley and began jogging down the length of the train, searching for any sign of someone I knew in a compartment just as the conductor blew the whistle from behind me.
Shit! I didn't have any more time to look; I just had to get on and pray that I wasn't about to enter a carriage full of Gryffindors.
Sod it, I thought, swinging a door open and beginning to shove my things inside. Luckily, I didn't have to worry about a cage or anything; Jacob had been the one to get an owl when he had turned eleven, but I had preferred not to have an animal at all. They were too much work, and honestly? They stank to high hell.
I clambered aboard just as the engine began to chug, slamming the door behind me and thanking Morgana that I had made it.
"If you wouldn't mind finding a compartment, miss?" the conductor said, skirting around me and making sure the door I had just come through was secure. "The Express is set for departure, and we wouldn't want any mishaps."
He smiled kindly at me, though his lips twitched beneath his ridiculous moustache once he saw my face – not that I blamed him. I decided long ago that if I was going to play the part of the scary Slytherin I had to look like it, hence the overlong ash blonde hair and the thick black liner surrounding my eyes, giving me a heavy-lidded effect (hey, if it worked for Bellatrix Black, it could work for me too).
"There's room for one more in this compartment," he said, avoiding my gaze and instead taking my things. "Right this way."
I entered the compartment warily behind him, the girls within who had been chattering a moment before falling silent, tension suddenly thick in the air. I nearly groaned aloud when I saw the five Gryffindor girls from my year all staring at me with expressions ranging from apprehension to outright dislike: Lily Evans, Marlene McKinnon, Alice Fortescue, Mary MacDonald, and Dorcas Meadowes.
Bloody wonderful.
"If you'll take a seat, miss," the conductor said, pointing to the only open seat available, which was next to McKinnon. "Once we get out of London you'll be able to move compartments if you so wish."
You can count on that, I thought, but instead I only gave him a slight nod – a dismissal. The Slytherin had come back out to play.
He exited the compartment, sliding the door shut behind him, and I plopped into the seat next to McKinnon, aware that all eyes were on me.
"Anyone got a copy of Witch Weekly?" I drawled. "I love looking at the monthly horoscopes."
"Er, yeah, here," Fortescue said reluctantly, reaching into her bag, but her movement was cut off by Meadowes's sharp voice.
"What are you doing in here?" she asked, her large eyes narrowed into slits that were raking me over with suspicion. "Shouldn't you be with the other snakes?"
"I was late for the train, Meadowes," I replied blandly, already bored by their caution. "You heard Conductor Pornstache; once we're out of London I'll move to a different compartment. Perhaps I'll even make it in time to join in on the Salazar Slytherin blood ritual that we do at the beginning of every year."
MacDonald and Fortescue exchanged uneasy glances while Meadowes just looked annoyed. McKinnon edged farther away from me, but the only one who didn't react was Evans. She hadn't glanced once my way since I had sat down, and I bit back a sneer; perfect Evans, who was shoved so far up her own ass she couldn't see anyone else but herself.
I turned to Fortescue, who visibly shrank back from my steely gaze. "So, how 'bout that Witch Weekly?"
She hurriedly took out the glossy magazine and passed it over, nearly throwing herself back into her seat. Huh. Some Gryffindor. She was going to have to get over her skittishness if she wanted to be an Auror, as she had declared during our career counseling sessions last year. The only way I knew that was because I had peeked through the file, of course, but no one else needed to know that.
Once the Gryffindors determined that I was safe enough reading my magazine and wasn't about to whip out my wand and curse them all, they started up their chatter again, and unconsciously I began listening in. It was all idle chat, nothing serious: what they did over the holiday, what N.E.W.T courses they were taking, blah, blah, blah. The only thing really worth eavesdropping on was when they started talking about crushes. Now that was information I could use.
"Did you see Emmeline Vance on the platform?" Meadowes was saying. "She looked amazing in that skirt."
"Wasn't she seeing that Stebbins bloke at the end of last year, though?" MacDonald said.
"Oh, they ended their fling over summer," Meadowes replied, waving her hand. "But I think I'm going to go for it; she went out with Sharon Kays in fourth year, remember?"
The girls let out collective "oohs" and nodded enthusiastically, urging her to take her chance. I had to refrain from rolling my eyes, still pretending to be interested in this year's 'Hottest Robes for Fall' article.
"What about you, Lily?" McKinnon said with a devilish grin. "I know Potter's still available."
I glanced up, seeing Evans scowl.
"Don't even joke about that," she snapped. "You saw what he did to Sev – Snape last year."
Ah, yes. The Mudblood debacle. Every fifth year had witnessed the incident involving Evans and my own Housemate, Severus Snape, after James Potter and Sirius Black – the two most insufferable, arrogant pricks roaming the school and making up half of the idiotic pack of Gryffindor boys who called themselves the Marauders – had instigated an attack on him after our Defense Against the Dark Arts O.W.L. The torment, only briefly broken up by the arrival of Evans, who had defended Snape, had resulted in him declaring that he didn't need the help of filthy little Mudbloods like her.
The effect had been a rift between Evans's and Snape's friendship (one that I had never understood) that had seemed insurmountable; and so it was, apparently, if Evans was on a last-name basis with the boy who used to be her best friend.
McKinnon held up her hands in defense. "I know, I know. I shouldn't have even brought it up. Sorry, Lils."
Evans nodded brusquely, going back to reading her Charms book before her eyes flicked up and met mine.
I didn't bother dropping my gaze, seeing as she had already caught me, and instead only raised an eyebrow coolly. I expected her to ask if I was eavesdropping, but she seemed to assess me for a moment before lowering her eyes back to her book wordlessly.
A half-hour passed before we had entered the countryside, away from the city, and I got to my feet, stretching my limbs.
"Well, ladies, can't say I'm sorry to go," I said, tossing Fortescue's magazine back to her. "Enjoy the rest of the ride, if you don't bore each other to death first."
I ignored their offended looks and gathered my things, shoving the compartment door open with my shoulder. I vaguely heard Evans say something behind me about prefect rounds, and she slipped out into the corridor with me, shutting the door carefully after her.
"Do you need any help with that?" she asked, and I looked over my shoulder to see her watching me, her emerald green gaze unreadable.
I looked down to the trunk and rucksack I had before eyeing her again.
"I think I can manage," I said, my voice even. "Besides, you wouldn't want to taint your lion pride by assisting a lowly little snake like me, would you?"
Her features tightened, but she didn't say anything. I waited for her to go, but she seemed to be teetering on the edge about something, biting her lip. I stifled a sigh.
"Out with it, Gryffindor," I said, rolling my eyes. "What do you want?"
"Do you talk to Sev – Snape – much?" she asked.
"No, not really." I shrugged. "To be honest, I try to avoid the greasy git as much as possible. He's got a terrible superiority complex, you know that?"
Her lips twitched as if she were going to smile, and I appraised her curiously. "Why do you want to know?"
"Because I wanted you to tell him to leave me the hell alone," she said, and I was surprised to hear her so vindictive. She normally appeared so collected – except for when James Potter was involved, and when she wasn't gliding above the rest of us peasants. "And if he ever tries to apologize to me again and beg for my forgiveness, I'll hex him six ways from Sunday."
"Careful there, Evans," I said. "You almost sound like a Slytherin."
She gave me an exasperated look, and I smirked at her.
"Just tell him to stay away from me," was all she said before she turned and started down the opposite direction of the train car, no doubt heading for the prefects' carriage.
After casting one last curious look in the Gryffindor's direction, I began to pick my way through the cramped corridors, hauling my luggage. A lot of students had had the same idea as me and were now searching for their friends' compartments, but they gave me a wide berth as they passed, averting their stares – whether it was because of my appearance or they knew I was a Slytherin, I didn't know, and I didn't necessarily care as I finally found the compartment I had been looking for.
"Afternoon, pricks," I said as I opened the door with my foot and dragged my stuff in. "Anything I missed?"
"Nothing much," Davey Gudgeon said, kicking his feet off the seat to make room for me. "Only a couple rounds of Snap, and Az daring Ferris to snort some of the ashes."
I looked at my other two best friends, Aziz Patil and Ferris Blishwick, and Az gave me a grin and a wink while Ferris waved half-heartedly, a handkerchief held to his nose.
"It hasn't stopped burning for fifteen minutes," my fellow Slytherin moaned, his voice muffled through the cloth. "I think I'm gonna have to see Madam Pomfrey."
"That's what you get for being an idiot," I told the messy-haired pure-blood before looking at the boy across from him, who blinked back innocently. "And you're just as bad for even thinking something as bloody stupid like that in the first place. Aren't you supposed to be a Ravenclaw?"
Az rolled his eyes, though his mouth was still spread in a wide grin, his white teeth glowing against his dark skin.
"We all know that Davey's the dumbest Ravenclaw to ever grace the House of Rowena," he said, laughing when Davey flipped him off.
"Just because it's true doesn't mean you have to point it out," Davey said. "Like finding out unicorns bone each other using their horns."
"Is that why they're so horny?" Az asked with a straight face, and Ferris moaned again.
I smacked my head onto the seat behind me. "I can't believe I agreed to spend the rest of my life being friends with you lot."
"Oi, you were the one who always said it," Az said. "Friends who tip the boat together, stay together."
"And if I'm not mistaken, you were the one who tipped us over in the first place," Davey pointed out. They were, of course, referencing the incident in first year when we had to share a boat across the lake together on our first night of Hogwarts, and I had accidentally capsized our vessel after spotting a spider and attempting to dive overboard, unfortunately taking the three of them with me. With some luck, though, and maybe a little fate thrown in, as well, we had been best friends ever since.
"That spider was bigger than my bloody hand," I said defensively, and they all chuckled.
"Sure it was," Davey replied with a shit-eating grin, and I smacked his bicep in retaliation.
You may be asking yourself why Ferris and I were friends with two Ravenclaws; after all, he was a noble little pure-blood, and even though I was a half-blood, we were both still Slytherins. The boating incident aside, that should have been the end of it. Davey and Az had gone to Ravenclaw, while we had gone to the House everyone in the school despised. It was easy enough to work out though; once Ferris and I had become virtual outcasts to the other Slytherins, it didn't much matter what we did – everyone was still going to hate us. The only reason why nobody had outright hexed us yet was because we still acted enough like Slytherins to get by, even if our two best friends were not of the same House.
After the food trolley had rolled around and we had gotten our fair share of snacks, we spent the rest of the journey catching up and playing more rounds of Exploding Snap, which Ferris reluctantly joined despite his red and swollen nose. I eventually settled in for a nap about halfway through the journey before my peace was disturbed.
"Taylor. Hey, Taylor."
I groaned when something prodded my side. I attempted to roll over but only succeeded in smushing my face into the seat.
"Taylor, it's almost three o'clock. Don't you have a prefects' meeting?"
I rolled back over to face Ferris. "Since when the fuck am I a prefect?" I asked him incredulously, and he gave me a deadpan look.
"Since Druella Harfang was expelled for practicing Dark Arts on the firsties last year," he said, raising his brows, and I stared at him for a long moment before it hit me.
Druella Harfang had been a particularly nasty Slytherin in our year with an obsession of torturing first-years, or anyone who had annoyed her. I'd been on the receiving end of several of her jinxes before, and they were not fun. We all knew she been vying for the position of Hogwarts' meanest witch ever since Bellatrix Black had left the void open after graduating, but the difference between Druella and Bellatrix was that Bella had been smart enough not to get caught, while Druella… Well, there was a reason Professor Dumbledore had sent me an owl over the holiday asking if I would take on her role as prefect.
"Shit!" I leaped to my feet and dove into my trunk, rifling through the contents to find the silver and green prefect badge that had come in my announcement letter. Merlin, that stupid Hufflepuff Head Boy was going to kill me if I was late…
I found the badge stuffed into a pair of rolled-up socks and quickly pinned it to my robes, pricking my thumb in the process, and I swore violently as I jumped off the seat, dashing for the door.
"I'll be back later!" I shot over my shoulder as I departed, ignoring Az's call of, "Do us proud, Angel!" as I began tearing down the corridors, heading for the prefects' carriage.
I checked my watch and groaned when I saw that I had three minutes to be there on time. What was it with me and not being able to be punctual today? This had to be punishment for me eating half of Jacob's cereal this morning while he was in the loo so he could think he had eaten more than he had and we could get a move on to the station. There was no other explanation.
I flew into the compartment with one minute to spare, sliding the door open with much more force than was necessary and garnering the attention of all the assembled prefects. I gave a slight wave that looked more like a muscle spasm as I shut the door and took the seat next to my fellow Slytherin prefect, Evan Rosier.
"Subtle entrance," he commended me sarcastically. I flipped him off while I regained my breath, not having enough air for a comeback. "Glad you could make it, though. Dumbledore sent me a letter saying you would be my new partner."
"Here I am," I said, finally managing to catch my breath. "In the flesh."
"Did you hear about Druella?" he asked.
"Who hasn't?" I retorted. "Those firsties were in St Mungo's for a week."
He nodded stoically, brushing his auburn hair off his forehead. I supposed Evan was attractive; he had the aristocratic good lucks all pure-bloods seemed to possess despite the centuries of inbreeding, with thick hair that settled somewhere between brown and copper and nice eyes that looked almost like caramel, his physique broad-shouldered and muscular with a strong jaw to complete the image. Not to mention that he was insanely smart and funny, as I'd heard girls swoon about for years now. He would've been my type if he wasn't so interested in the bloody Dark Arts and all that pure-blood rubbish. He was cool towards me, though, so I guess that was something.
"I heard the Wizengamot had been considering Azkaban, but her mother and father bailed her out before that could be brought to the table," he told me. "She's supposedly on house arrest now."
"Why would they consider Azkaban? She's only sixteen!"
"She turns seventeen at the end of the month," he said knowingly. "She could be tried as an adult then." I wrinkled my nose, and he continued. "The Ministry is cracking down on these sorts of incidents too; they're scared that there's a link between them and the new regime."
I noticed how he prudently left out any mention of the Dark Lord or his Death Eaters, but I didn't draw any attention to it, merely shrugging.
"What money can't buy," I sighed, sinking back onto my seat, and he gave me a wry smile just as the Head Boy stood up from the front of the compartment.
"Welcome, and welcome back, everybody," Amos Diggory said, his golden Head Boy badge shining brightly against his robes. "It's good to see everyone again, especially our new faces of the year."
The new fifth-year prefects squirmed slightly in their seats, but the Head Girl – another Hufflepuff named Mary Abbott – got to her feet and smiled warmly at them.
"I'm Mary, and this is Amos," she said, her smile never once wavering, and I had to marvel at how she could hold that expression for so long without her cheeks cramping. "We're the Head Boy and Girl for this year, so we'll be overseeing prefect duties, schedules for rounds, and other school activities. We'll also be available on the hours posted on the monthly schedules in case anyone has questions about anything."
I was starting to get unnerved by her smile. How could she keep it up for so long? I was starting to regret this position as Diggory spoke again.
"Mary will pass out the schedules after I'm done giving some pointers, and then you'll be free to go," he said. I took the schedule Evan passed me and frowned down at it, seeing that my rounds were every Thursday night. At least I would get to swap partners every week, though I couldn't help but grimace when I saw that the last Thursday of every month, I would be patrolling with the sixth-year boy prefect from Gryffindor, Remus Lupin.
I glanced up from the schedule to where he sat next to Lily Evans on the other side of the compartment, talking quietly to the redhaired witch as they compared patrols. I knew who he was, of course – everyone in the ruddy school did. He was another member that made up the insufferable Marauders, and though I had never spoken to him personally, the buffoonery of his mates and his House alone kept me far, far away from him, which is exactly where I wanted to be.
Ugh. This prefect thing was turning out to be a worse and worse idea.
"Now, a little serious note before we send you off," Diggory said, drawing my focus back to him and his stony face. "As you all know, there is a lot of unrest and unease going on in the wizarding community."
I had to refrain from scoffing out loud. Attacks on Muggles and Muggle-borns were an everyday occurrence in the Daily Prophet at this point, and rumors were already swirling about recent Hogwarts graduates who were joining forces with You-Know-Who and the Death Eaters. The world was practically descending into chaos, and he chose to use pansy words like unrest and unease?
"No matter the beliefs of your parents or family, no matter how your friends or Housemates try to persuade you otherwise, Hogwarts will tolerate absolutely no violence or intimidation whatsoever."
His stormy grey eyes flickered briefly over to the Slytherins, and Evan and I traded a hard glance.
"Be vigilant and be virtuous," Mary added, "and if you have any suspicions or see anything out of the norm, don't hesitate to come to me or Amos about it."
"Now, if there are no questions, you can go," Diggory said.
Evan and I rose from our seats and left the compartment, beginning the trek back to our end of the train, where all the Slytherins tended to gather.
"Diggory's a duffer," he said as we ambled along. "All he and the rest of the professors do is preach about House unity and all that tosh, but then immediately turn around and blame us if anything happens."
"We're Slytherins," I pointed out. "It's our lot in life."
"And they wonder why so many of us are joining with him," he muttered under his breath. "They're hypocrites, the lot of them."
I stayed silent, letting him stew in his thoughts the rest of the way. As much as I hated to admit it, he was right. We Slytherins had always been outcasts in our own school, and the alienation only pushed most of us deeper into the shadows that waited on the edges of our House's legacy. It sucked, but there wasn't much any of us could do about it.
"Here's my stop," he said, coming to a halt outside of a compartment a few doors up from the one I had left Az, Ferris, and Davey in. "You can sit with us, if you want; it's just me, Mulciber, Avery, and Snape."
"I'm good, thanks," I said, jerking my head down the corridor. "I've got some friends waiting for me already."
He gave me a curious look. "Ferris and those two Ravenclaws, right? Abdul and Danny?"
I grinned. "Close. Az and Davey."
"Oh, right." He nodded. "Tell Ferris I said hello."
"Will do."
I waved as he stepped into his compartment, and I caught a brief flash of Snape sitting nearest the door, giving me a foul look. I'd come to accept that the bat-like git hated my guts for whatever reason, but I couldn't help feeling like he somehow knew about my conversation with Evans earlier before the door closed, hiding him from view.
Shaking off the discomfort the creep gave me, I went back to my own compartment, hoping I could get in some more sleep before we arrived at Hogwarts.
"It never fails to amaze me," Ferris said as the dark castle of Hogwarts came into our view. "It's like the Founders wanted to make it look haunted."
"Yeah, that's probably what all the ghosts are for, you idiot," Az said, rolling his eyes as our carriage trundled its way closer to the school.
"Don't mock me," the Slytherin boy said, leaning back and sniffing. The swelling in his nose had gone down during the remainder of the train ride, but every time he blew into a handkerchief, a sprinkling of ashes would still come out. "I'm not fully sober."
"When are you ever sober?" I asked, turning away from the window and raising a brow.
"Good point. Never."
Davey shook his head. "I think you've been perpetually stoned since the third year, Fer."
"That's what happens when Father dearest doesn't give two shits about you," he said, shrugging, and though we all knew Ferris's father was a top-tier bastard and had tried to disown him before, we still looked away awkwardly, knowing he wouldn't want to talk about it.
"We're almost there," Davey said, pointing out the window.
"Thank Merlin," Az said. "I'm starving."
"You ate an entire box of Cauldron Cakes, and half my Licorice Wands," I said. "How are you possibly hungry?"
"It's called digestion, dear, look it up," he said, and I rolled my eyes. Bloody Ravenclaw.
Our carriage rolled to a stop outside the great sweeping staircase guarded by the perpetually ugly gargoyles I had hated since my first year, and we filed up the steps and through the great double doors with the rest of the students, emerging into the grand entrance hall, as welcoming and toasty as ever.
"We'll see you tomorrow at breakfast," Davey said, pecking my cheek and fist-bumping Ferris before following Az and the rest of the Ravenclaws to their table in the Great Hall.
"C'mon, Fer," I said, leading the boy by the hand as we trailed to the far side of the Hall, where the Slytherin table was. "Back to the snake pit we go."
He made some strange hissing noise in response as I pushed him onto the bench next to me, but I ignored him, choosing instead to watch the winking stars that glittered in the enchanted ceiling above us, suddenly feeling homesick.
Jacob and I lived with our father in the Norwegian countryside, so far from any Muggle town or wizarding village that you could see millions of stars at night, all bright and beautiful. Our father, Ikloviar Aster, was a dragonologist who worked for the Ministry of Magic, particularly studying the Norwegian Ridgebacks that nested near our farm, almost in complete isolation. I loved Hogwarts, don't get me wrong, but there's just something about our faraway home that I always end up craving when I'm away at school.
A sudden hush fell over the chattering students as the headmaster, Professor Dumbledore, rose to his feet from the head of the staff table.
"Welcome, to another year at Hogwarts!" he announced. "Let us begin the Sorting Ceremony!"
Professor McGonagall, the strict Transfiguration professor, produced a battered stool and a worn, frayed hat with her wand, placing the stool and the Sorting Hat at the front of the Great Hall before summoning the first-years waiting outside to come in.
Ferris leaned in close to me as the Sorting Hat began to sing its customary song, and I grinned at the petrified first-years as they watched the hat sing.
"Which one do you think will faint this year?" he asked. "My money's on the skinny blond kid; he looks like he's about to piss himself."
"Nah, he'll keep it together," I said. "Check out the beaver with the huge teeth."
Ferris turned his loud snort into a cough as our Head of House, Professor Slughorn, looked over disapprovingly, and I fought off my grin as Professor McGonagall began reading off the list of names to be Sorted.
"How was the prefects' meeting?" Ferris whispered.
"Utterly useless," I replied. "The only thing I could focus on was how Abbott managed to smile for so long."
Ferris snickered. "Diggory probably saw to her beforehand, if you know what I mean; poor thing seems like she doesn't get much action—"
I smacked his arm in reprimand, but even I had to stifle a laugh at the thought.
"Mind you, I wouldn't be opposed to Diggory," Ferris mused, fiddling with the golden spoon in front of him and gazing in the direction of the Hufflepuff table. "He's quite fit, and he has those eyes—"
"Ew, no," I said, scrunching my face. "Diggory's a pompous ass, and I would be a terrible best friend if I allowed you to go for that."
"True," he said, sighing. "What about Sirius Black? He's fit as a whistle."
"I haven't even eaten anything yet and I feel like I'm going to throw up," I deadpanned. "He's worse than Diggory; and besides, Reg would kill you if you went for his brother."
"Stop being right," he whined. "It takes all the fun out of my bad decision-making."
I snorted. "You'd be dead if it weren't for me."
He grumbled something under his breath that I didn't catch, for suddenly everyone was clapping as the Sorting Ceremony ended, and Dumbledore got to his feet once more.
"Dig in!"
Food suddenly appeared on our plates, and I began grabbing everything in my reach, my stomach howling. The Licorice Wands I had eaten seemed like a lifetime away as I scooped a bite of peas into my mouth, Ferris wolfing down his food at an alarming rate from beside me.
I was only halfway through my steak when several bodies planted themselves on the bench across from us, and I looked up to see all of my dormmates - sans Druella, of course - facing me with equally predatory smiles.
"Vanity the Insanity," I greeted, referring to the lead snake, Emma Vanity. My dormmates usually tended to stay out of my way, and I did them the same courtesy, but Vanity and I had been grudging allies ever since I had tutored her in Potions our third year. "What brings you to our end of the table?"
"I just wanted to see how my favorite roomie was doing," she said, tossing her platinum hair over her shoulder and giving me a brilliant smirk that I knew all too well. I noticed she had cut her hair over the holiday, styling it in the same way Bella's youngest sister Narcissa had it before she graduated last year, but I refrained from pointing out that the look didn't suit her. Narcissa had easily been one of the most gorgeous girls in Hogwarts, but Vanity didn't quite make the same cut.
"Why is she your favorite roomie?" Lana Travers asked, pouting. "I thought I was your favorite roomie."
"Shut it, Lans," Vanity snapped, and the brunette frowned, but obeyed. Vanity smiled at me again.
"What do you want, Emma?" I asked, stifling a sigh.
"It's the first day of school, sweetheart," she said, as if that explained everything, but she frowned at my blank look.
"I'm aware, yeah," I said, drinking from my pumpkin juice. "But what does that have to do with me?"
She gave me an exasperated look, turning to Ferris. "Ferris, honey, you remember what the first day of school means, don't you?"
"It usually means we renew our truce not to speak to each other for the rest of the year so another petty duel can't happen between us," he said, not paying attention to her, and she huffed irritably.
"Well, yes," she said. "Our truce starts now, by the way, but I was talking about something else."
"Just get on with it, Emma," I said. "You're making my green beans shrivel up in fright and Fawley looks like she's about to make love to that cobbler."
Everyone turned to see Anastasia Fawley, another one of Emma's minions, eyeing a peach cobbler with a hungry gleam in her gaze.
"Ana!" Vanity shrieked, slapping her hand on the table and breaking the pixie-like girl from her trance. "What did I tell you about sweets?"
"S-sorry," she stammered. "I-I—"
"Lana, get her away from the desserts," Vanity ordered. "Force feed her carrots if you have to."
Travers nodded, tugging Fawley after her as they departed our section of the table. I gave Vanity a dry look. "Was that really necessary?"
"It's part of our new diet," she said, flipping her hair. "Narcissa told us about it before she left."
Knowing Narcissa, she probably just made up that diet to get her freaky fan club/stalkers away from her, and I bit my tongue to keep from laughing as Vanity continued.
"Where were we?" she said. "Ah, yes – the first day of school means it's time for The Game!"
"What game?" I asked, raising a brow at her off-put expression.
"The Game!" she nearly shouted. Merlin, I'd forgotten how loud she was. "I choose the player, you choose the victim, and if you succeed in your task, you win a few Galleons and mega satisfaction."
Ferris groaned. "Oh, not this again, Vanity."
"Bugger off, Blishwick," she snapped. "Our truce is on."
Ferris rolled his eyes, going back to his stew while I looked back and forth between the two, bewildered. "Will someone please explain what this ruddy game is?"
"It's the one Olna Bulstrode played last year," Vanity said with a pointed look.
"Oh, fuck, no," I said when it dawned on me. "I'm not being a part of this."
"Why not?" Vanity said, looking angrier by the second.
"Because it's immature and disgusting," I snapped. "You forced her to seduce Logan Wilkes! And when he rejected her she was a mess for weeks!"
"Only because she failed to complete her challenge." She sniffed haughtily. "She was supposed to break his heart. It's not my fault she got attached when she shouldn't have."
I glowered at her. "Forget it, Vanity. Take your bloody game and shove it."
She gave me a long, analyzing look, her pale eyes searching for a crack in my armor, but she wouldn't find any.
"Fine," she said eventually. "But if you change your mind, you know where to find me." She stood up, and I raised my goblet to her in a mock toast. "You have until the end of the week, or else I'm choosing a new player."
And with that, she flounced off. I turned to Ferris in amazement. "What was what?"
"Something you don't wanna fuck with," he said darkly. "Vanity is the Insanity for a reason; all this game does is pit people against each other so they can get petty revenge. She thinks it's entertaining to watch people break each other's hearts while she sits on the sidelines, soaking in all the gossip and drama."
"How does she choose her victims?" I asked, not really sure if I wanted to know the answer when Ferris looked at me with sympathetic eyes.
"By knowing something about them she can hold over their heads – blackmail."
My heart dipped in my chest. I looked at Vanity sitting farther down the table. Her eyes were on me, and when she saw me staring, she winked and smiled, her expression clearly reading I have something on you. Your darkest secrets are mine.
I turned away slowly, trying not to appear as rattled as I felt, but it was hard. I had done some questionable things since starting school, but there's no way she could have anything that bad on me. Could she?
All I knew was that Emma Vanity had dirt on me, and when Slytherins had dirt, they could easily bury you six feet under with it.
I was a dead woman walking.
This is such a crack-fic but I still love it. Hogwarts meets Mean Girls lol