Heiress to Slytherin's Legacy
Author's note:Hello there! I am not a big fan of author's notes because I know nobody reads them anyway (or at least, I usually don't) so I'll be quick and concise. First of all, I want to say thank you for giving this story a try. I promise you I will try my best to upload as constantly as possible, rest assured, I don't intend on dropping this project anytime soon. Second, English is not my native tongue, so if you spot any mistakes let me know so I can fix them. Thirdly, reviews and comments are more than welcome, in fact they are encouraged, as long as they are constructive. That being said, I hope you enjoy the first chapter, let me know if you like it!
-M
DISCLAIMER. Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling, only the OC belongs to me.
Chapter 1
Platform 9 ¾ was alight with activity. At twenty to eleven families hurried about, kissing their children goodbye, making them promise to write constantly and to behave in classes. Parents ushered their youngest forward, towards the Hogwarts Express, giving final warnings and advice for the upcoming school year. Friends who had not seen each other throughout the summer hugged with fervor, delight visible in the way they gesticulated, a particular gleam in their eyes that could not be described as anything but pure happiness. The dull thuds of trunks being carried and dropped only to be lifted again accompanied the heartfelt farewells marking the start of a new year, a new adventure as some might say, just waiting for the clock to chime eleven.
On the other side of the platform, a raven-haired girl of fair complexion leaned on the brick wall, observing the proceedings with a dreamy smile on her face. Her sparkling silvery grey eyes closed with pleasure as a fresh gust of wind ran through her unbound jet-black hair, brushing it away from her face with its strength. She kept her eyes closed, remembering her mother's arms around her shoulders as she bid her farewell. Her firm tone going soft with every word she uttered, willing her daughter to enjoy herself, to forget the inevitable future that would soon come to pass and for once focus on being carefree. Her father's hug had been shorter, he had enveloped her in his arms before pulling her away to caress her cheek and place a kiss on her forehead. His golden-brown eyes shining with pride as he looked down, encouraging her to remain true to herself for he was sure that would be enough to bring her joy, even in the bleakest of times.
Her parents had exited the platform shortly after, assured that her only daughter was more than capable to board by herself; knowing as well that she was not fond of sentimentalisms and that she would rather have a few minutes of solitude before starting the train ride to Hogwarts. The 16-year-old was incredibly thankful her parents knew her so well and as she reopened her eyes, she sighed with bliss at the tentative peace she felt in the mist of the station. Casting her eyes skyward, she admired the clear September sky, so full of possibilities and yet so susceptible to change.
The wizarding world will be forever changed when the secret comes out, if we play our cards right it will be for the better.
Echoes of a months-old conversation with her mother found their way into her conscious thoughts. Her tone, the volume she used, the conviction behind the words an exact replica. It felt as if the words were being whispered in her ear in that precise moment, as if her mother had not left the platform at all and were standing right next to her, reminding her of the inevitable future that awaited them.
Cathleen Ollerton, neé Blishwick, wasn't a stern woman as most people would believe considering her status as a Pureblood wife, she was far from it in fact. She was kind, sweet and listened to everyone's point of view before passing judgement. Her relationship with her daughter was the kind people envied, the kind that was almost rare for arguments and fights were almost an oddity between them. However, this didn't imply she didn't have a character, because she did. She was firm in her beliefs and wasn't scared of upholding her values when the situation called for it, hardening her deep grey eyes as she prepared her arguments.
Ms. Ollerton knew the dangers of drawing too much attention to herself, and yet she struggled to stay away from unfair politics, having a strong moral compass which demanded her to speak in defense of those being wronged regardless of the consequences. Nonetheless, there was one topic for which she would remain quiet when brought to the table in public gatherings. A topic which unfortunately for her, had become widely talked about since the so-called Slytherin heir had proclaimed himself Dark Lord a few years prior. She was aware her family's heritage was without a doubt, the one secret that had to remain as well guarded as a Gringotts vault. Ironically, it was precisely her knowledge in regards of this particular secret what sparked the greatest desire to argue inside of her.
Loraleen Ollerton knew her parents were sincere, encouraging her to use her upcoming school year as a getaway from the heavy planning and scheming, and still, she could not get her thoughts to stray from the war. She could not forget the Daily Prophet's articles announcing raid after raid, the people disappearing, the deaths, the photographs of the Dark Mark illuminating the sky with its nasty greenish glow. She couldn't help but feel in the bottom of her heart that each day that passed was a day she was becoming an accomplice to this calamity.
Her left hand clenched her cloak's fabric as the thoughts she had successfully managed to keep at bay for the most part of the morning broke free and swiveled around inside her head.
Just a few more months, she thought to herself.
Letting the cloak go, she took a deep breath, aiming for the peace she had previously managed to achieve, letting the platform's noise consume her senses.
As she regained her composure the Hogwarts Express blew out steam, signaling departure time was fast approaching. Loraleen took the handle of her trunk and swiftly dragged it through the crowd of bystanders. As she walked, the raven-haired girl felt incredibly grateful with her mother for insisting on charming it to be lighter as her packed trunk presented no trouble while moving around the crowded station. She easily boarded the train, going up the short set of steps on the train's side and quickly set herself to the task of finding an empty compartment.
The hallway was lined on both sides with small cabins, for 6 people at most, and to her great annoyment, most of them were already full to the brim with students. Loraleen let out an exasperated sigh and kept walking, mentally reproaching her lack of forethought as she went. In hindsight, it was pretty obvious this would happen, the amount of people standing at the platform was a dead giveaway.
As she carefully maneuvered around the excited younger students running around, she spotted a relatively empty compartment where two boys around her age were sitting by themselves. Sighing determinately, Loraleen knocked softly on the crystal door, sliding it open without waiting for an answer.
"Hello, are these seats taken?" she asked in a polite tone just as both boys turned to face her.
Upon closer inspection she realized one was younger than the other. The older boy seemed quite skinny, with sallow skin and dark hair, practically as jet black as hers. Nevertheless, where hers fell in soft waves down her back, his remained straight as a stick, with greasy roots and barely reaching his shoulders. His hooded black eyes seemed to hold general distaste for the world; having set his thin lips in a firm line and looking down his hooked nose at her, he easily managed to make Loraleen feel like she was not exactly welcomed there. The other boy, who appeared to be one- or two-years younger, was leaner and seemingly less unfriendly. As far as physical appearances went, he only shared the hair color with his companion, nonetheless, his was perfectly trimmed and slightly wavy, with a few locks falling charmingly on top of his forehead. His features were also finer, with a straight nose, defined jaw and lighter skin. Still, his eyes were probably the most remarkable part of his appearance. They shined oxford silver; several shades darker than hers but just as captivating.
"They aren't, do come in," answered the later ignoring his friends' glare.
Loraleen stepped in and upon seeing her trunk the young boy raised gracefully from his seat and helped her heave it into the luggage rack. He motioned for her to take his place next to the windowsill and seated himself to her right, sliding the door close as he did.
"I do not think I've had the pleasure of making your acquaintance," said the boy offering his hand. "Regulus Black."
Pure-blood warnings flashed in Loraleen's head at the formal introduction.
"Loraleen Ollerton, it's a pleasure to meet you," replied the witch, placing her hand on his for the customary kiss on the knuckles without missing a beat.
"Likewise, Miss. Ollerton. This is my house mate Severus Snape," introduced Black letting her hand go, nodding his head to the other boy.
"Charmed," half muttered, half grumbled Snape.
Loraleen nodded her head in acknowledgment.
The introductions were cut short by the train's whistle and subsequent parting. The farewells of the family members still standing at the platform drew their attention to the outside. They listened quietly as the voices found a harmony with the students weaving and responding with loud goodbyes from the compartments. As the train gained speed and the platform disappeared from view giving way to the plains and greenery, the three members went back to facing each other.
"Are you a 7th year, Miss. Ollerton? I do not remember having seen you in classes before," started Black, making light conversation to fill the oppressing silence.
Loraleen smiled politely before answering, noticing Snape's scrutiny.
"No, I am 6th year. However, this will be my first year attending Hogwarts," clarified Loraleen as Snape's eyes began to narrow. "Are you a 6th year as well?"
"A 5th year," he said, denying with his head. "Severus is a 6th year though."
It was fairly obvious to the trained eye that Black was trying to prompt Snape to join the conversation regardless of the latter's wishes. As awkward as the situation could be described considering the distaste Snape was showing towards her so far, Loraleen couldn't help but feel slightly amused at their antics.
"Highly unusual to enroll just for the last two years," commented Snape.
"Believe it or not my family and I travel a lot, I was raised partially here and partially in America, by the time my Hogwarts letter came we were departing England."
"Seems awfully solitary," he drawled.
"Not quite," responded Loraleen without elaborating.
Snape just hummed, his black eyes mistrusting.
"Well, do you know about the houses? Hope to be sorted in a particular one?" inquired Black.
Loraleen feigned having to think about it. Resting her elbow on the windowsill and her cheek in the palm of her hand, she inclined her heard slightly in his direction.
"I hope to be placed wherever I'll thrive the most."
"Where do you think that will be?"
"I think my values and traits are pretty evenly distributed. Quite frankly, it could be any of them."
Loraleen turned and looked out the window, detonating her withdrawal from the conversation. She admired the Scottish fields rolling by at high speed, foliage shining bright green under the summer sun. Each minute that went by was a minute that she found herself further from London, further from the bustling and boisterous city she had just gotten back to and making her way into the calm and quiet plains and hills on the countryside, which if she had to be completely honest, were not that appealing.
The rumbling sound of railcars over tracks lulled her into a peaceful state, distracting her from the musings of her companions and leaving her ignorant to the curious glances thrown her way every now and again. At some point during the trip, Snape brought out a Potions book and retreated into himself to read while Black simply laid back comfortably on his side of the bench and closed his eyes composedly.
"Anything sweet for you, dears?" interrupted an elderly lady rolling a trolley by their compartment door, effectively snapping the tree students back to the present.
"What do you say Miss. Ollerton? Any sweet cravings?" asked Black with a mischievous smile.
Loraleen chuckled at his inquiry, not understanding the teasing tone but deciding to play along.
"Only if there are chocolate frogs available," replied the witch, thinking of her unhealthy weakness for chocolate.
Standing from her seat to get close to the cart herself, Loraleen observed the variety of sweets in the trolley -Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans, Pumpkin Pastries, Cauldron Cakes, Licorice Wands, among others-. All in all, a sugared paradise. Black placed his order with the Trolley Witch as Loraleen analyzed her options and handed her the chocolate frog once he had payed.
"Oh, you didn't have to," murmured Loraleen as she realized he had already paid for her as well. Knowing it would be pointless to argue she gave her thanks and replaced the Sickles she had just taken out back in her pocket while declining the kind witch's offer of buying something else.
Black passed Snape a Pumpkin Pastry and made small talk with him as Loraleen opened her chocolate frog. Just as expected, as soon as the chocolate was free from its packaging it tried to bolt. The impatient girl, slightly annoyed at her vivacious sweet, quickly snapped the legs off setting every piece but one back inside the box. The young witch bit into de chocolate with a sigh of delight, enjoying the flavor in her taste buds. Wiping her chocolaty fingers on a spare handkerchief after finishing the small bite, she took the accompanying card and eyed it with an inscrutable expression.
"Salazar Slytherin was the founder of Slytherin house at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry," started Loraleen aloud. "He was one of the first recorded Parselmouths, an accomplished Legilimens, and a notorious champion of pure-blood supremacy."
"You read it like it's the first time you've seen that card," commented Black before eating the last bite of his pastry.
"More like the other way around, I own more of these than I care to count."
"Do I detect a slight preference over Slytherin house, then?" asked Black with an assertive tone. "I wouldn't blame you, it's the best house after all."
Gathering that they both belonged to Slytherin house given Snape's lack of comment, Loraleen wondered if it would be advisable to mess with them a little.
"I told you before, I am evenly distributed," replied Loraleen with amusement as she licked her second frog leg.
"What do you mean by 'evenly distributed'?" demanded Snape. "Either you belong to a house or you don't, it's as simple as that."
Sensing her chance at making a point, Loraleen took a second to try and understand where Snape's attitude was coming from, considering she wasn't sorted yet and there was no apparent reason for him to be prejudiced against her other than the fact that she was new.
"You see, I don't perceive it quite that way," declared Loraleen after licking her lips and sorting her thoughts. "As far as I understand the sorting is based on what you value the most, and more often than not, what you value aligns with the traits you already have, or you aspire to develop. My belief is that no one can truly belong one hundred percent to one of the houses because that would mean not possessing any of the traits that stand out for the others. Don't you consider yourself intelligent?"
Snape looked affronted at having his intellectual ability questioned.
"Of course I do!" he snapped.
"However, cleverness and intellect are more highly prized in Ravenclaw. The fact that you are Slytherin doesn't mean you are less intelligent, it just means that your cunningness and ambition rank higher in your personality," Loraleen paused to assess their reactions. Both boys seemed to be processing the implications of considering the houses as part of a whole instead of separate entities. "Look at it this way, you are eighty percent Slytherin and that is why you were sorted there in the first place, but what about the other twenty percent? Half of it could stand for Ravenclaw, a quarter for Hufflepuff and a quarter for Gryffindor."
Snape made a noise of distaste at the mention of being five percent Gryffindor causing Loraleen to roll her eyes.
"I think that more often than not, the rivalry between the houses makes everyone forget that in reality the four houses are present in every single person, in varying levels of course, but present nonetheless."
"That is not a bad hypothesis," interjected Black with a far-off look on his face. "In fact, it makes quite some sense."
"What would you really know?" hissed Snape ignoring Black altogether. "You haven't even been sorted."
Loraleen shrugged.
"I did my research before coming, it would have been incredibly stupid on my part to not try to learn about the place where I'll be living for the next two years before arriving."
"And your research led you to analyze the sorting system?"
"An analysis would have taken more effort on my part, this was merely an observation," said the witch nonchalantly, a little smirked threatening to grace her face.
Loraleen wasn't being outright arrogant, in fact those who knew her would say that she was just being playful, and yet she was aware how her statement could come across, especially when paired with her patronizing tone. Not that she used it that often, mind you. She usually reserved it for those who would be able to tell she was just putting on a show, however, it also had a habit of appearing when she was amused over someone else's outrage.
Or scandalized over her actions. Both worked just fine.
Snape clipped his lips together and refrained himself from arguing any further, contenting himself with throwing half meant glares her way as if unsure whether he disliked her for implying he wasn't completely Slytherin, or admiring her train of thought. Black, on the other hand, seemed to be slightly thrown off by the Pure-blood lady sitting next to him, like he didn't know what to make out of her just yet. And well, he probably didn't.
The boys left shortly after, intending to change into their school robes. Loraleen, who was already wearing the signature black robes underneath her cloak, stayed, satisfied with the way she had handled her first meeting with the Slytherins. She was hoping she had made a strong enough impression regarding her stance so, that regardless of the house she was sorted into, she wouldn't be trapped by its stereotype. After all, her family's plans required her to be in good terms with everyone and frankly, she preferred it that way. Conflict and poorly based arguments bored her to death.
If she wanted to be truly honest with herself, she didn't want to judge her future school before arriving and seeing it with her own eyes, but it was hard not to when rumors concerning the rivalry between people and the discrimination based on blood status declared these issues to be as common inside the school as they were outside. She felt strongly about both topics and the fact that the children were growing up believing that nonsense irked her beyond words.
Just as she was about to start rummaging through her bag for a book to pass the time, she spotted a large structure in the distance. Towers stretching into the sky, the opponent formation reminded her why it was sometimes referred to as Hogwarts Castle. The 10th century institution seemed to be patiently waiting for the students to reach its halls, light filtering through to the windows and shining brighter in the dimming sunset with each passing second.
"It seems we have arrived," said Black reentering the compartment with Snape in tow. "Welcome to Hogwarts Miss Ollerton."
"Just Loraleen," she replied without turning, eyes fixed on the castle.
The Hogwarts Express started to slow down and as it approached the platform in Hogsmeade he replied, "Just Regulus." The boy flashed her a charming smile as she faced him. "I insist."
As the train fully stopped, Loraleen smiled as well, satisfaction shining in her eyes as she regarded her new acquaintance with resolve.
A strong impression indeed, she thought.