The Common Room's door closing released an avalanche of silence.
Ashen faces all around, some little Hufflepuffs appeared on the edge of tears.
Zach kept on clenching and unclenching his hands.
Justin climbed to his feet, and surveyed the room.
Curt wasn't a Hufflepuff, not really. And because he wasn't a Hufflepuff, he couldn't do the wise thing in this situation. The smart thing. Be the quiet kid, tucked in a corner.
Curt stood solemnly, and cracked a bitter smile, "Haven't you ever seen a Hufflepuff be bad before?"
The silence seemed to fracture, like broken shards of ice, pushing against each other - the ice-cold water deep below.
Curt swept a skeptical glare across the room, "How many of you have stolen before?" And it wasn't Harry's imagination when a few people shuffled their feet.
And, then, inspiration struck.* Curt turned towards Zach, "Zach, you're good with History. How many Hufflepuff Dark Lords have there been? What were they like?"
"Vlad the Impaler learned at Hogwarts." Zach said, "You'd know him better as Dracula, if you're muggleborn. He's a folk hero in Romania, but people remember he impaled his foes on pikes, leaving them to die without succor."
A chubby Hufflepuff girl who was always smiling (except today), climbed to her feet, her hands in fists and her face red, "But we're supposed to be the Nice House. The Kind, loyal, fair Hufflepuffs."
Curt spoke quietly, "What kind of fairness lives in a world with orphans?" The room was so quiet that his voice echoed.
Cedric spoke, firmly, "The kind where a family is what you make yourself, with your own two hands. You can be born with one, sure... But so long as you're a Hufflepuff, you're family."
Susan Bones stood up, her blue eyes like the sky, "And are they still Hufflepuffs?"
The room erupted, the volcano going stratospheric. Curt wanted to hide, to sit back down. Harry wouldn't know how to not rock the boat if he was strapped in a straightjacket. and that sounded suspiciously like Snape's voice in my head.
There were too many voices, a veritable pandemonium, a cacophony straight out of Bedlam. Friends screamed at friends, dormmates faced apart - one boyfriend and girlfriend looked like they were close to coming to blows.
Hannah Abbott looked just as Harry felt, quiet, unsure, and very alone.
Harry was about to change all that.
*the author too.
[a/n: The author loves the true story of "The Little Dragon."
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