The Pureblood Pretense
Chapter Five:
The next morning when Rigel stepped into the common room, she found Pansy sitting quietly on one of the low-backed chairs, glancing through their Transfiguration text. The blonde girl was really quite pretty in the pale green light coming through the windows from the lake, Rigel noted objectively. She strode over to her friend and waited for Pansy to acknowledge her. Pansy closed the book neatly and flicked luminous blue eyes up to meet grey ones.
"Good morning, Rigel," she said.
"Morning," Rigel nodded toward the common room door, "I'm going to take a walk."
"I would love to come with you," Pansy grinned, and Rigel noticed she was already dressed to go to breakfast, despite the early hour. She gallantly offered her arm, feeling beyond silly even as Pansy gracefully rose and rested her hand lightly on Rigel's elbow. They left the common room and Rigel led them immediately toward the Entrance Hall. She thought Pansy's robes and shoes looked too thin for dungeon-wear, and she'd already explored the dungeons anyway, so she decided they'd walk the first floor, and perhaps the basement if they had time. Rigel especially wanted to figure out where exactly the painting that led to the kitchens was.
As they walked, Rigel learned many things about her friend. Pansy was named after a kind of violet, because her mother was so fond of them, and she was an only child. Her parents had arranged many private tutors for her over the years, so she had come to Hogwarts with a full background in Wizarding Law, Pureblood Etiquette, and Magical History, which included extensive knowledge of the most famous and influential people and families in the Western Wizarding World. She confided to Rigel that the reason no one had ever tried to have their History professor, Binns, replaced by someone more competent was because most of the students, and especially those from influential families like the Malfoys and Parkinsons, were already so well versed in it.
Pansy also mentioned she was interested in taking Care of Magical Creatures in her third year, because when she was younger a herd of unicorns had moved into the forest behind her mansion, which was a Wizarding Wildlife Preserve, and she had been quite close to the beautiful creatures before they had moved on. Rigel had known Pansy was mostly innocent, as any eleven year old would be, but she hadn't realized just how much it meant to Pansy until then, and she made a silent vow to protect that innocence as much as possible in the next seven years.
By the time they entered the Great Hall for breakfast, Rigel knew that Pansy's favorite color was periwinkle, that she hated the smell of Lavender (because she was allergic), and that at present her greatest ambition was to learn to bake, because her grandmother made the most delicious pies and cakes, better than any house elf, but her mother refused to let her practice at home. Rigel found she didn't mind Pansy's company as long as Pansy was content to talk about herself. She reminded Rigel of Archie a bit, the way she carried the whole conversation easily without becoming annoying (at least not to Rigel, who didn't like to talk much). Come to think of it, Draco reminded her a bit of Archie too, the way he impulsively pursued whatever he happened to be interested in at the time. It seemed Rigel had unconsciously drifted toward the familiar here at Hogwarts, however much it had seemed like Pansy and Draco attached themselves to her. They strolled over to the Slytherin table together and Rigel waited politely for Pansy to take a seat before doing so herself, noting as she did so that Pansy had maneuvered her into sitting next to Malfoy once again. She wondered if it was her fate to be ever between the two of them.
"Good Morning," Pansy said to the general assembly of first-years.
"Where were you two this morning?" Davis asked.
"Walking," Pansy said, buttering a scone with care, "It's a rather refreshing way to begin the day."
"Just walking?" Greengrass asked lowly, obviously still suspicious of the son of infamous playboy Sirius Black.
"There was talking involved as well, I believe," Rigel said. She blinked when Pansy gave a startled laugh.
"You have quite a way with understatement, Rigel," she said, eyes twinkling mischievously and looking for all the world as if she had solved a great puzzle, "I knew you must have a sense of humor if you were raised by Sirius Black and James Potter."
"I think most of the professors are waiting anxiously for the practical jokes to begin," Zabini said, a slight smile playing about his mouth, "And the Weasley terrors have spent every meal since the sorting on the edge of their seats with anticipation."
Rigel looked with interest at the Gryffindor table, where there did indeed seem to be two identical redheads alternatively glancing around the Hall and staring at her with confused expressions. She shrugged her shoulders, saying, "I have no talent for pranks."
"Well, as your dorm mate, I am much relieved," Nott told her, "And if you ever decide to take up the family mantle, do us a favor and practice on the Hufflepuffs."
"I'm not sure that Malfoy and Pansy would take it very well," she said blandly.
The others gave her confused looks, but Malfoy kicked her shin below the table and Pansy shoved her lightly.
"Rigel thinks he's being funny, by calling us Hufflepuffs because we 'badgered' him so much yesterday," Pansy said, a sweet smile blooming on her face as she began her revenge, "You see, he had a little trouble with the charms we learned, and we were only trying to help, weren't we Malfoy?"
Rigel groaned inwardly as Malfoy answered her, just as sweetly, "We were indeed, and Black's not the only one with a talent for understatement. His attempts were simply abysmal, weren't they Parkinson?"
"Oh, you must call me Pansy," the blonde girl said cheerfully, "After all, we'll being working together a long time if we're to try and teach this plebian how magic is supposed to be performed."
"Then I insist you call me Draco," Malfoy said gallantly, shaking his head sadly at Rigel, "For I do fear we have a long road ahead of us."
"See if I sit by you two in Transfiguration," Rigel muttered into her cantaloupe.
"Oh you will, if only because we sit by you," Pansy assured her.
Rigel supposed she deserved it for calling them Puffs in front of their year-mates, but now everyone half-suspected she was a Squib, if their looks her way were any indication. Ten minutes later they followed a prefect to Transfiguration, where a cat sat silently on the professor's empty desk. Rigel stared at the cat, a suspicion forming in her mind. She'd been around animagi for the whole of her childhood, and between Sirius, James, and Remus when he was on Wolfsbane, she knew an animal that was not an animal when she saw one.
Sure enough, as the clock on the wall chimed the hour, the cat leapt off the desk, transforming mid-air into the stern-faced woman who'd met them before their Sorting. Most of the class released quiet gasps, and looked at their neighbors in awe. Professor McGonagall strode to the blackboard and waved her wand at a piece of chalk. It animated and began writing out notes on theory while she introduced herself and called role.
"Welcome to Transfiguration," she said, not sounding at all welcoming, "This is a very difficult subject and I expect you all to work hard and apply yourselves to it. There will be no fooling around in here; next to Potions it is perhaps the branch of magic where things can most easily go wrong if you aren't extremely careful. Mr. Black!" she called.
Rigel contained her jump, but knew she must have still looked startled, "Yes, ma'am?"
"You knew or guessed I was not all I seemed when you first walked in," she commented.
Rigel wondered just how she had figured that out, but said, "Yes, ma'am."
"How?"
"You were too still," Rigel said, referring to the Professor's cat-form, "Cats are naturally quiet animals, but you were very watchful, so I guessed you were a human in animal form."
"Why not just assume I was a familiar or some other intelligent animal?" she pressed. Rigel sensed she was the kind of professor who always wanted the most complete answer possible.
She couldn't tell the class that her father and uncle were unregistered animagi, so she just shrugged, saying, "All of our professors have been in the classroom when we arrived so far, I noticed you left the staff table before we finished breakfast, and the markings around your eyes were unusual for a tabby cat."
"Excellent observational skills," McGonagall nodded briskly, "Five points to Slytherin. It is vital that you begin to develop an awareness for magic at all times. Magic can be used to deceive the unsuspecting, especially Transfiguration, which is the magic of turning one thing into another, but there are almost always signs, if you remember to look for them."
She spent the rest of the lesson teaching them to turn matches into needles, and Pansy and Malfoy predictably had much better luck than Rigel did.
"Mine's gone silver, I think," Pansy noted, beaming. They had been warned that the chances of anyone succeeding the first day were slim.
"I think I've got a hole in one end of mine," Malfoy added, looking quite pleased.
The two of them turned to Rigel expectantly and she glanced down at her match, "Oh, look, I've made a match," she said, feigning a dreamy sort of joy. They both sighed at her, so she gave a small, but real smile and said, "You both did very well. I'm so proud," she added, just to see them scowl at her again. They looked like twins when they did that, side by side, both pale-skinned with blonde hair and expressions of amused exasperation on their faces.
"You're impossible," Malfoy said, "At this rate they'll kick you out by the end of the week, and then Pansy will cry, and Zabini will move into our dorm to get away from the numbskull brothers, and I heard he snores. I'll miss out on my beauty sleep, and Pansy won't be able to use her glamour spells on me-"
"I do not use a glamour!"
"—because she'll be too distraught and crying, and I'll grow up to be ugly and therefore uninfluential and it will be all your fault!" he finished grandly.
Rigel rolled her eyes and turned back to her match, figuring she could at least practice the incantation some more. She felt Malfoy glaring at her like she'd committed some unconscionable crime by not being talented like he was as Pansy chewed his ear off about the glamour comment, and wished fervently that she had something pointy to job him with so the superior jerk would stop bothering her!
Pansy broke off her tirade with a gasp and Malfoy stared dumbly down at her match—except it wasn't a match anymore. It was a needle.
"Oh, well done, Mr. Black," Professor McGonagall had come over to check their work and seen her needle transform, "Ten more points to Slytherin. Mr. Malfoy, Miss Parkinson, you have made very good attempts as well."
As soon as she walked away, Pansy squealed, "Fifteen points to Slytherin in one class!"
Malfoy shot her a look that said focus, "Black, how in Merlin's name did you do that?"
"Same as you, only better," Rigel smirked, quite shocked at herself but unwilling to show it.
"You didn't even say the incantation," he whispered fiercely.
The look of awed pleasure on his face made Rigel uncomfortable, so she lied, "Yes I did, you must not have heard it over Pansy's nattering."
He looked unconvinced, "But still, you were dismal at Charms and Defense, and this is supposed to be much harder."
"What did you do differently?" Pansy asked, "I mean, what were you thinking when you did it?"
"I was thinking I'd like something to poke Malfoy's eye out," Rigel said.
Pansy looked like she couldn't tell if Rigel was joking or not, "I guess maybe you just needed the right motivation, then."
Malfoy smirked and this time Rigel did groan softly, "So this means we can annoy you in every class—in fact, we're practically obligated to. Pansy and I are the key to your success."
After Transfiguration, on the way to Herbology, Zabini approached them. Rigel didn't know much about the boy, besides what people said about his dangerously beautiful mother, but he had a quiet presence when he spoke, despite his young age.
"I noticed your success in McGonagall's class," he said casually, "Looks like those two were exaggerating this morning," he nodded at her friends (and when did Malfoy become one of her friends?), "You seem to be full of surprises."
"I think it was just a fluke," Rigel said, "Perhaps that particular match had been a needle before."
"Uh huh," the dark boy raised an eyebrow, "In any case, Slytherin House seems to have gained a valuable and unexpected asset in you, Black."
"Likewise, I'm sure, Zabini," Rigel nodded politely as they reached the greenhouses and Professor Sprout ushered them inside the first one.
Professor Sprout was a very interesting teacher, Rigel thought. She set them to examining different kinds of soils and guessing what types of magical plants would grow best in each one. Rigel knew about the properties of a lot of plants, but she'd never known that the growing conditions had so much impact on the potency of a plant's magical properties and parts. She was shocked to discover that if grown in the wrong soil, Flitterbloom lost half of its nutritional value, so for a vitamin potion to be up to standard it would require twice as much! She would have to start asking where the ingredients she purchased were grown before using them in her potions.
After Herbology they were all slightly dirty, but no one bothered cleaning up before lunch since they all had Flying that afternoon, and were bound to work up a sweat again. Malfoy was practically vibrating in his seat, he was so excited, although his face was stoic as always. Rigel put a hand on his arm the fourth time his leg bumped into hers because he couldn't stop himself from bouncing it, and he finally calmed enough to finish his lunch with some decorum. She shared an amused glance with Pansy, who was completely unimpressed by the idea of flying on a broom in general.
They had Flying with the Gryffindors, and the barrier between the Houses was never more apparent to Rigel than the moment they reached the pitch and the Gryffs lined up along one side while the Slytherins took the other. She recognized Neville from the train and smiled slightly (as much as she ever did) in his direction when he noticed her. Pansy was giving a girl called Lavender an ugly look, probably hating her just on principle because of her allergy, and Malfoy was staring down the gangly redhead she knew was related to the Weasley twins, probably a younger brother. The boy looked just as unhappy to be looking at Malfoy, and Rigel thought she'd have to keep them away from one another if she wanted a peaceful existence at Hogwarts.
Madam Hooch blew her whistle to get their attention and said, "Today we're just going to cover the basics. I know many of you have brooms of your own at home, and will likely think this review beneath you, but if you plan to play Quidditch for your House, you'll want to be sure you have the fundamentals down. Don't worry," she grinned like a shark, "If you've been doing it wrong you're whole life, I'll tell you."
Completely unreassured, the class nevertheless followed her directions and started screaming, "UP!" at their brooms. Malfoy rolled his eyes and snapped his fingers imperiously at the old Comet beside him and said, "Up." It flew into his hand as if it had just been waiting for an opportunity to do so.
Pansy got hers to roll over a few times, and eventually got fed up and just picked it up off the ground with a scowl on her face. Rigel said, "Up," in a tone that was apparently not convincing enough for her Shooting Star.
Malfoy, who was on Rigel's right, looked over and said, "It's the same thing as a Winguardium Leviosa, but the broom channels the magic instead of your wand. You have to mean it, Black."
"Why can't I pick it up like Pansy did?" she asked, knowing full well what Malfoy was going to say.
"Because you'll never learn that way," he shot Pansy a look around Rigel and said, "Pansy doesn't want to learn, but you should take this seriously."
"Why?" she said, deciding Malfoy was much more fun exasperated. She wondered how long she could pretend to be bad at Quidditch just to annoy him, "I don't want to learn either."
He frowned at her, "You have to like Quidditch. If Pansy doesn't like it, you have to so that I'm not the only one in our group."
She raised her eyebrows at his rather childish reasoning, trying to ignore the part of her that was flattered that he considered her and Pansy's opinions the only ones worth considering. "Fine," she said, "Up."
The broom rose steadily to her waiting hand and the wood seemed to thrum with anticipation beneath her fingers. She looked regretfully down at the old broom, knowing it would be ever so disappointed when she acted ignorant in the air. Still, if people knew she wasn't horrible on a broom they would want her to try out for the House Team, and that would detract from her Potions studies. Not to mention the unwanted attention if she did somehow make the team, coupled with the inevitable hi-jinks that came with trying to hide her biological gender in changing rooms, etc. Add to that the 100% probability that if her Uncle Sirius came to watch her play he'd realize instantly she wasn't Archie, and there was no way she could afford to be good at Quidditch.
"Mount your brooms," Madam Hooch called, demonstrating how they were to swing one leg over to the other side. Everyone got more or less situated and she said, "Now, on the count of three I want all of you to push lightly off the ground, hover for a moment, then come back down by leaning forward slightly. One-"
But Neville was already in the air, and rising steadily. The class gasped, and the round-faced boy gripped the broom tightly, his face chalk-white with terror. Hooch pushed off the ground and flew toward him, stretching out a hand to try and pull him to safety, but by the time she reached him, Neville's grip had failed. He plummeted strait down and Rigel barely had time to think, as she watched with frozen dismay, that if she ever wanted to make anything levitate in her whole life, it was Neville, right now. Then, amazingly, he was slowing, stopping, hovering a few inches above the ground, and Rigel realized she was holding her wand with the tip pointed directly at the stunned Gryffindor. His milky hazel eyes met hers and the look of abject gratitude in them made her hand tremble. The spell broke and Neville landed with a relieved exhalation of breath on the soft grass. Hooch landed a few seconds after, and helped the boy to his feet. When it was clear that he was shaking too much to stand she said, "Poor boy, you've had quite a scare. Let's get you to the Hospital Wing for a calming draught," she swung him up into her arms, showing surprising strength, and called over her shoulder, "Stay here and keep on the ground or you'll be in detention until you graduate."
Rigel had hurriedly stowed her wand away when Neville hit the ground, but it was too late to avoid detection, and most of the class was staring at her. She could see the Gryffindors being torn between relief that their classmate hadn't been hurt and suspicion that a slimy snake would help a lion for seemingly no reason. Her own Housemates were just plain gaping at her, having been under the impression that she couldn't even perform the Levitation Charm, much less on a heavy, moving object under pressure. Rigel, not wanting to examine that line of questioning herself, turned pointedly to Pansy and said, "Do you think Professor Sprout will care where we get the soil sample we're supposed to analyze for our homework assignment?"
Pansy just blinked at her, at a loss for coherence. Rigel sighed and turned to Malfoy, "I mean, she can't expect us to traipse through the Forbidden Forest, right? We could probably just ask the Gamekeeper for a sample from his garden."
Malfoy looked like he was considering slapping her, so she narrowed her eyes and snapped, "Stop looking at me like I'm hysterical. Just drop it."
"Drop—" he swore softly, "You are beyond words sometimes, and that is not a compliment."
She shrugged, and was about to change the subject again when she noticed the redheaded Gryffindor walking their way. With a foreboding feeling in her stomach she put on the friendliest expression she could muster while still kind of freaking out inside.
"Hey-" he began hotly.
Rigel interrupted, "Hey, you know Neville, right?"
"I—yeah, of course," the redhead frowned, "He's in our dorm, but-"
"Great!" she smiled stiffly, "Can you tell him I hope he's okay when you see him next?"
"Well, sure, I guess," he looked very confused now.
"Oh, of course, how rude of me," Rigel stuck her hand in the Gryffindor's face, "I'm Rigel Black. If you just tell him Rigel said 'hi' he'll know who you mean."
"Ron Weasley," he scrutinized her hand carefully, which made Pansy huff angrily.
"It's fine, Pansy," Rigel said soothingly, "If my brothers were the Weasley twins I'd be in the habit of looking for pranks everywhere too. On my honor, it's just a hand," she said to Weasley.
He had the decency to flush embarrassedly at being called out for his rudeness, but seized on the excuse as he shook her hand briefly, "Can't be too careful with those two."
"I understand," Rigel assured him seriously. Malfoy was glaring something fierce at Weasley, but Rigel hoped he would keep his comments to himself.
The Gryffindor seemed to remember suddenly why he'd come over in the first place, and said aggressively, "Why'd you stop Neville from falling?"
"I didn't realize my intervening would offend anyone," she said, deciding that bluffing and acting as if she'd meant to do it would be best for now, "I'll be sure to leave it to you next time."
"That's not- I mean-," he bit his lip in open frustration, "What's in it for you?"
"It's always a tragedy when good blood goes to waste," she said, "The Longbottom family is very ancient, and it would be a shame for their line to die out from such an avoidable accident."
She was actually rather proud of that response. She thought it sounded appropriately pureblooded and mercenary considering the reputation of her House. Weasley looked as if all his worst fears had been realized, so she must have said something right, and he scoffed dismissively at her before starting to walk back to his side of the pitch. Perhaps it would have ended there if only Malfoy had kept his big mouth shut.
He snorted rather rudely, "Oh yes, what a tragedy to lose someone with so much potential to grow up into a snot-nosed muggle-loving blood-traitor like his parents."
Weasley immediately drew his wand, and said a spell so fast Rigel reflected later that he was probably just waiting for an excuse. A jet of sickly-yellow light shot toward Malfoy, who looked gob-smacked at the idea of anyone actually attacking him for what he probably considered casual banter. Pansy shrieked angrily, but it was Rigel who unthinkingly moved sideways to push Malfoy out of the path of the jinx. It struck her in the shoulder and knocked her backwards into the grass.
Distantly she heard Pansy shriek again and Malfoy shout something angrily while Weasley stuttered that it was supposed to have hit Malfoy. This of course didn't make Malfoy any happier, and as Rigel sat up slowly, wondering at the ache in her elbow where she'd hit the ground, she saw Weasley running back toward his House-mates while Crabbe and Goyle held Malfoy back from pursuing.
"What a funny little picture," she said blearily, "I do hope someone tells Malfoy he looks like an angry Scottish terrier right now."
Pansy turned toward her at the sound of her voice and said, "Draco, come here! Rigel's fine."
Malfoy whipped his head around and broke angrily from Crabbe and Goyle's hold. He strode over to where Rigel was still sitting happily in the dirt and crouched down next to Pansy, "You alright, Black?"
"I'm all-wrong," she said, smiling stupidly into his concerned face, "Like my eyes. These aren't my eyes. I've stolen yours, I'm afraid."
"What?" he frowned down at her, "Black you're not making any sense."
"You can't make sense," she said wisely, "You have to find it." This statement struck her as funny, so she flopped back onto the ground and laughed heartily at the sky, asking it pretty please to rain honey for a day or two in her head.
"What's wrong with him?" Malfoy demanded, "Weasley, what the bloody hell did you do to him!"
"It was just a Jelly-legs Jinx," Weasley yelled, still red in the face but looking slightly worried too, "It wasn't supposed to even knock him down!"
"A Jelly-legs Jinx is orange-red in color," Zabini said coldly, peering down at Rigel, "That one looked more like a Jelly-brains Jinx to me."
"Jelly-brains!" Pansy started shrieking again, "You turned his brains to jelly?"
"Pan, it's okay," Rigel said in her best calming tone, which came out a bit on the giggly side, "The sky is going to rain honey for me tomorrow, and if we have jelly too then everyone can have toast."
Malfoy growled, "You better get your arse over here and fix him this instant you stupid git, or my father is going to-"
"What in Merlin's name is going on here?" Madam Hooch was back, and she looked like an Amazon queen ready to call down a storm, "Mr. Black, are you alright?"
"No!" Pansy said hysterically, "No, he's not alright, he's got jelly for brains!"
"Ah," the Flying instructor pulled Rigel up into a sitting position once more by her shoulders and stared intently into Rigel's face, "The Jelly-brains Jinx, was it? Not to worry, Miss Parkinson, it'll wear off in a few minutes. Who is responsible for this?"
"Weasley," Malfoy ground out, "This is how the Gryffindors decided to repay Black for saving their useless House-mate's life."
"I didn't do that," Rigel said earnestly, "It was my wand what did it. I was just holding it at the time. You shouldn't be so angry," she added, looking sadly at her blonde friend, "It makes your eyebrows twitch something terrible."
Pansy choked on a laugh and flung her arms around Rigel, "You idiot! Why would you do such a thing?"
"Seriously, Black," Malfoy was scowling now, "Of the three of us, you're the only one who hasn't been taught a Shield Charm yet. What gives you the right to jump in front of an unknown spell, huh?"
Rigel carefully disentangled herself from Pansy, "I'd rather you didn't hug me, Pan," she said, "I don't want your mother to get the wrong idea."
Pansy chuckled wryly, "Why would she get the wrong idea? Don't you like me like that? I'm crushed, really."
"I thought you might be," Rigel sighed, "It's all Sirius' fault. He made all the girls afraid of me, so now I'm stuck being friends with a Malfoy."
"I'd resent that if you were in your right mind," Malfoy said, "Consider yourself blessed to even be worthy of my presence."
"Are you an angel, then, Malfoy?" she grinned, "You look a bit like one, but without a halo it's hard to be sure."
Madam Hooch blew her whistle and announced that the class was dismissed, so Pansy and Malfoy stood her up and marched her as quickly as possible back to the castle, throwing dirty looks at the Gryffindors on their way off the pitch. The jinx didn't wear off until they were almost back to the common room, at which point she groaned, pulled away from their hold, and gripped her head fiercely.
"Rigel?" Pansy asked cautiously.
"I know why it's called the Jelly-brains Jinx now," she moaned though her pounding headache, "It's because your head feels like it's been squished like a grape when it wears off. Seriously, ouch."
Her friends let out twin sighs of relief. "Thank Merlin," Malfoy drawled, "I don't think I could take another minute of the inanities that were dribbling out of your mouth."
"Oh, hush, Draco," Pansy said softly, trying not to cause Rigel any more pain, "He took that curse for you, after all."
"Nobody asked him to," Malfoy muttered.
"You're welcome," Rigel said, heading toward the inconspicuous stretch of wall up ahead, "Ouroboros."
They caught up with her as she entered the common room, and an unspoken agreement was made not to bring up the Flying lesson, Neville's near-fall, or Rigel's stint in la-la-land for the rest of the day, at least. They worked on their Herbology assignment until dinner (well, Pansy and Draco did theirs and Rigel pretended to work while thinking about Potions), and Rigel went to bed early that evening, exhausted and confused by the day's events.
Little did she know that she wasn't the only one. Pansy and Draco both lay awake that night, thinking that there was much more to their new friend than either of them would have imagined when they'd met him just two days before.
[end of chapter five].
A/N: so this one was much longer than I intended. I'm trying to keep the chapters to 3000 words each but they keep getting away from me (this one's 4900 _). So tell me what you think about the characterization so far (since we haven't gotten into plot yet), and thank you so much for even reading this far :).