"So Tori, little birdy told us you got a visit from an old friend today." prodded Theodore Nott. As a general rule, most Slytherins did not have a set group of friends, the purebloods all tended to mingle, the few mudbloods and halfbloods preferred friend outside of Slytherin... They shouldn't even be in Slytherin if you ask me.
"Shut up you great prat." I spat at him. We had just arrived back in the Common Room after Quidditch practice earlier that day, after I had to see Flint. What irked me, is Nott was at practice, he is a fellow Chaser along with Montague and I. The Black Lake was getting rather cold as we had moved into November, causing the windows to be icy cold to the touch, but our common room was warm, a fire crackling in the fireplace, an elaborate mantel piece, accented by the rough stone walls, and decorative archway designs, our room, had to be by far the best. I pictured the Gryffindor common room, I imagine they had worn out fabric couches and seats, whereas we had long cushiony black leather sofas, and high backed leather chairs. Chandeliers hung from the ceiling while green lantern like lights hung in the outer corners of the room. We had the largest common room of the four houses as well, being under the lake, we had plenty of room, unlike the other houses. Rumor had it Gryffindor and Ravenclaw where both in towers, while Hufflepuff was somewhere near the kitchens...
Crabbe and Goyle chuckled dumbly. I shot them a look, poison seething from the look. I was lounging back on one of the couches, length wise, and my legs resting on Draco's lap, him stroking them mindlessly with his fingertips. His expression was sour at them mentioning Flint. At one point in time he and Flint were friends, when Draco first became the Slytherin Seeker. Over the years Flint grew in his arrogance, which is normal, but when he started messing with me, that put a halt on camaraderie previously between them. Montague and Zabini were Draco's two bearable acquaintances... Crabbe and Goyle were simply his cronies, as their fathers were to Lucius. When they were in school, Snape was Lucius's lapdog, following him into the world of Dark Magic and the Death Eaters. The Dark Lord had many followers hundreds, but only The Death Eaters were of any importance, the Elite.
I cannot say what interested me in Dark Magic, perhaps it's in every Slytherin, perhaps being a part of a family, and being around families involved with the Death Eaters influenced me. But whatever the reason, it's something I took a fancy to.
Parkinson was glaring at Draco's hand. She was being snippier with everyone than usual. I really didn't like her hanging around us, but as long as she knew her place, I could bear her. Millicent Bullstrode, a rather manly acting, and built girl, was also frequently around us. She was very physical, preferring to get into physical Muggle confrontations rather than magical. Even when there was a physical altercation, I used magic.
"Well what happened between you two today?" pressed Nott. I could tell he wasn't going to give up.
"How about it's none of your damn business?" I spat back. Anger was boiling inside me, even though I knew these were only jokes. I stared to the door, seeing a spider that must have slipped in when someone opened the door. I had to avert my attention somehow; otherwise this prodding would have made me do something possibly regrettable.
"Imperio" I whispered as I snapped my wand towards the spider. I caused it to dance through the air; this is a Slytherins idea of entertainment. Draco, bemused, watched my progress, he slipped his wand out, and I released control to him.
"Kill it!" urged Crabbe and Goyle, always impressed by Unforgivable Curses.
He rolled his eyes, "pathetic", he sighed under his breath, his gray eyes glinting in the fire's reflection. But he obliged. A haunting green light shot from his wand as he whispered the deadly words. Everyone thoroughly impressed.
I glanced at the grandfather clock in the corner, noticing it was getting late. I sat up, kissing him, allowing my fingers to linger towards the inside of his thighs, just to spite Parkinson, Millicent elbowing her.
"I'm going to bed," I announced quiet plainly, everyone was having a separate conversation by this point. Thankfully tired of harassing me.
The rest of the week went on and the following week, bringing us further into November, and closer to Christmas break. These weeks were filled with Quidditch practice, all very awkward, with Flint taking up a broom and insisting on offering tips to me when it came to Chasing. Montague simply allowing him to. Flint was, after all, a remarkable Chaser, and had led Slytherin to victory many times, as a Captain. He made my skin crawl though. Slytherin was not a house you wanted to play against, we knew the ways to slip around the rules, slippery as a serpent. Cunning and shrewd we knew which referee we could get away with certain moves, and which we had to cut out. I always enjoyed Snape being a referee, just as Potions class is by far, my favorite class.
The morning of the kick-off Quidditch match came abruptly, Gryffindor vs. Slytherin. I woke with a start to see Draco's beautiful face, hand outstretched to wake me up for the match. I threw my arms around him pulling him down and inhaling his sweet cologne.
"Hey there yourself" he said strangely, "you better get up.
"Thanks" I said laughing. I was rather excited honestly. As he got ready I admired him.
"Have I ever told you how good you look in Quidditch robes?" I asked.
"Frequently" he answered; I could tell he was very nervous about winning the cup this year. I scowled as I pulled on the beige tights and green and silver blouse; I threw on the actual robe part and brushed my hair.
I was rather nervous about the match as well... At breakfast "Loony Lovegood" was wearing a giant lion on her head. I started cracking up quietly. Another girl was with her this time, someone I had seen occasionally in passing, she was in our same year I believe, I tried hard to recall her name…. Susan Bones if I wasn't mistaken.
"They are SO going to lose", I said in between bites of pancake. Draco was picking at his toast and marmalade. He had the hardest job as Seeker. Draco gave Potter and Weaselbee a malicious grin as they walked by our table, clearly trying to read what our special crown shaped badges read. Etched into them was "WEASLEY IS OUR KING."
Angelina Johnson and Montague were glaring at each other; it didn't look like it would take much to create a fight during this match...
Suddenly all thoughts were broken by an unbearably annoying little girlish voice. It was Umbridge. I never got into any trouble with her because I was one of the smart ones who joined her ridiculous "Inquisitorial Squad" which she was secretly creating. I still couldn't stand the awful woman; she was stupid and ignorant when it came to magic. Although she DID sack Trelawney and we were working on that oaf Hagrid. If only we could get rid of Dumbledore as well. "Out! Out!" she said shrilly. "Gryffindor vs. Slytherin."
We all hurried out, Draco and I both gripping our Nimbus 2001's tightly. It seemed to take forever to get to the Quidditch Gate but it gave us time to discuss game strategies. In the previous weeks, we had been devising a special intimidation factor, especially for the Ginger.
Crabbe and Goyle were hardly intelligent, but they were rather good beaters, so we might actually have a chance. I watched the other team sizing us up as we clambered onto our brooms. The two captains shook hands, Montague clearly crushing Johnson's fingers, and we were off. Draco zoomed into the air, surveying the area for a glint of gold, while Montague and Nott were handling getting the Quaffle, I was directing Crabbe and Goyle who to hit with the Bludger. One was hit directly at Johnson, Montague caught the Quaffle, and I went in to watch his back. Just then a Bludger came soaring into his head, causing him to drop the Quaffle. I was too busy steadying Montague to grab the Quaffle, they sped towards our goal, but Bletchley thankfully saved the goal. He passed it to me, as I sped towards the goal I heard the Slytherin stands swell in song:
"Weasley is our king,
He cannot block a single ring,
That is why the Slytherins all sing:
Weasley is our King
Weasley was born in a bin,
He always lets the Quaffle in,
Weasley will make sure we win,
Weasley is our King"
I continued my way to the goal posts, stealing a glance to see if Draco had found the Snitch yet, and then everything went black with a sickening blow to my head that reverberated through my brain before I awoke in the hospital wing.