Ain't it just a bitch?
What a pain
Well, it's all a crying shame.
What left to do...but complain?
Better find someone to blame.
It had been nearly three weeks since Cordelia had ruined her own life. While that may seem a little dramatic to some, to Cordelia it seemed apt. She has been subjected to torture of the most acute kind: listening to her mother talk. From sun up to sun down it was "the Malfoy's" this and "proper ladies have starched collars" that. It was as if Cordelia's horrific blunder at Diagon Alley had unlocked something in her mother. Maybe she thought she was finally getting through to Cordelia or she felt they had something in common to talk about now. Either way, Cordelia was contemplating faking her own death and going to live with the muggles.
The only thing that was keeping her from doing so was today: September 1st. It was easily her favorite day of the year. It meant that in only a few short hours she would be boarding the Hogwarts Express and going back to her real home. Where she was free from her mother's constant scrutiny and her collar could be as floppy as she wanted.
Cordelia had just managed to shove all seven of her new Defense Against the Dark Arts textbooks into her already crowded trunk. I mean really? Seven books for one subject? She already had a growing disdain for the author of said works and new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor Gilderoy Lockhart. A sentiment that was doubled by her mother gushing about his accomplishments after having picked up the offending volumes. Cordelia looked down at her copy of 'Holidays With Hags' ruefully. I've got a hag he could take care of.
As if summoned, her mother burst into her room. "Cordelia! I want you downstairs in exactly 3 minutes." Her mother demanded. Her eyes narrowed scraping over Cordelia's appearance. "And do something about that collar." After her mother marched out of her room Cordelia let out a withered groan.
"What IS this woman's obsession with collars?" Cordelia walked over the large standing mirror in the corner of her room. Not a hair was out of place, her green tartan skirt was perfectly pressed, she hadn't missed any buttons on the gray cashmere cardigan… that's when she noticed the tip of her crisp white shirt collar was stuck slightly under her sweater.
She let out a loud scoff and deliberately tucked the other side of the collar under, muttering angrily to herself. "She's trying to drive me mad, two can play at that."
After making sure Cordelia had all of her things, her mother had made a point of making sure she had the broom and book for Malfoy's "gift" and that her owl Sage was safely in her cage, they finally made it to platform 9 ¾.
Her father had not gone through to the platform with them and the only goodbye she had gotten from him was, "We're expecting a lot from you, young lady. Don't forget you are a Prince." Cordelia was not surprised by this and tried to ignore the sinking feeling of disappointment in her stomach as she and her mother went through the barrier to the platform.
"Now Cordelia–" her mother began but paused when her eye caught Cordelia's collar. Her mother's dark eyes flashed with annoyance, and she immediately straightened it for her. "As your father said, you are a Prince. Don't do anything that would mar that title this year. You know what is expected of you."
"I–," Cordelia started, but before she could finish, another group of figures came through the barrier on the platform. It was none other than Narcissa and Draco Malfoy. Great. Wonderful.
"Narcissa, dear, I was hoping to run into you today." Her mother greeted her friend fondly. The two women chatted a bit before Narcissa went to her son and hugged him goodbye, resting a hand on his cheek, and saying something Cordelia couldn't quite hear. Malfoy's normally pale features flushed a bright pink, and he mumbled something in return. The two women resumed their chatting and walked right out the barrier they way they had come in. Her mother had not even spared her a second look.
Cordelia was left staring at the empty brick wall of the platform, trying a little less successfully to ignore the pinched feeling in her chest.
"Good-bye mother," Cordelia mumbled to herself. She was pulled from her trance by the sound of someone clearing their throat. Cordelia whipped her head in the direction of the sound, having completely forgotten for a moment that she wasn't alone. Malfoy was still standing in the same spot on the platform with a peculiar expression, as if he had just realized something. Right. Malfoy.
As he opened his mouth to speak, another group burst through the platform barrier. Oh thank god. Not one to waste a good opportunity to escape what probably would have been a particularly awkward conversation with Malfoy, she made a swift exit pulling her trunk over to the rest of the luggage.
After dispatching her luggage, it didn't take Cordelia long to find Tracey and Daphne. Tracey was the one to spot her first, pulling her into a spine crushing hug.
"I swear to Merlin, Trace, you're part mountain troll," she wheezed out.
"Hey! Am not!" Tracey said with feigned offense, socking Cordelia in the arm, causing the former to let out a rather undignified grunt.
"Then explain the broken arm." Cordelia held up her arm limply.
Daphne scoffed, grabbing both of the snickering girls' arms. "Ugh, you guys are embarrassing." The blonde dragged the two of them off to find an empty compartment.
Not long after the high-pitched whistle of the Hogwarts Express sounded and the train began to pull out of the station. Cordelia settled into the familiar train ride, watching as the brick buildings of the city and small cottages of suburbs soon gave way to the foggy wilderness of the Scottish Highlands.
Cordelia sat with the other girls in their compartment. They had been joined by two Ravenclaw girls in their year, enjoying some sugar quills while listening to a fascinating story Tracey was regaling them with about some muggle contraption called a beeper. As Cordelia understood, they were used to make annoying sounds when they wanted to speak to each other. Her father had accidentally flushed his down the toilet.
"Now everytime we flush, it beeps and sends a message to my dad's boss. He's tried fishing it out with the plunger, but can't seem to get it." Tracey was miming a rather violent plugging motion when the door to their compartment slid open abruptly.
There stood Draco Malfoy looking entirely too smug for Cordelia's taste. Cordelia glanced to his sides. He was, naturally, flanked by his little lackeys. It appeared over the summer Crab had grown more horizontal than vertical, and Cordelia could have sworn that Goyle's eyes had gotten closer together. All five girls grew silent, and Cordelia's stomach sank. Here we go.
"So, Prince. A little birdy told me that you've got something for me." Malfoy's smirk grew as he spoke, "Don't be shy, you can hand it over now. I can hardly blame you." He gestured broadly at himself. Cordelia had gone a bit red in the face despite her best efforts. The rest of the girls looked back and forth between them in bewilderment.
"What are you on about Malfoy?" Tracey, not one to beat around the bush, questioned incredulously.
Malfoy sneered briefly at her for addressing him directly, but the smug look returned as he spoke. "Well, it turns out that Prince doesn't dislike me quite as much as she lets on." He looked directly at Cordelia. "She even got me gifts at Diagon Alley to make amends."
The implication of his words was enough for Cordelia to break, and she barked out a laugh. Which turned into nearly a full-blown cackle. Holding her sides, Cordelia was finally able to take a breath.
"What, did your mummy tell you that to make you feel better, Malfoy?" It was Malfoy's turn to flush. Cordelia stood to fully make her point, taking a step closer standing nearly face to face with him. "I would rather snog a dementor than so much as hold hands with you Malfoy." The rest of the girls erupted into giggles. Even Daphne let out a snort.
"B-but the broom," Malfoy stuttered indignantly.
Cordelia Snorted, "You mean my new Nimbus 2001? It wasn't cheap and I had to tell mother something." She rolled her eyes. "But thanks for asking Malfoy. It'll be well worth it at Quidditch trials." This earned an "Ooo" from their audience. Malfoy glowered at her now having flushed up to his ears.
"Your mother will hear about this," he spat out scowling. He then shoved past Crabbe, or maybe Goyle, it was impossible for her to reliably tell them apart, and stomped off.
"Now that was embarrassing." Daphne almost looked amused.
"Dear mummy, a mean girl at school today hurt my fweelings," Cordelia mocked, doing her best Malfoy voice.
The girls had a good laugh about the incident for the rest of their train ride. Though it was a bit soured when Cordelia thought about her mother's reaction. She didn't doubt Malfoy would rat her out to his parents and therefore hers, but for now, as the train pulled into the station and she got her first proper view of Hogwarts Castle of the year, she couldn't be bothered to care. They'll get over it, eventually.
They stepped off the train and onto the platform and, unlike first year, they were ushered not to the boats, but to the carriages. Cordelia was a little disappointed.
She could vividly remember the trip across the inky black lake in the small boats lit only by lanterns. At the time she was vaguely wondering if there was anything terrifying lurking in the dark waters, but upon rounding the corner of the boathouse and looking at the truly magnificent sight that was Hogwarts Castle, all other thoughts had left her mind. The sight of the castle, massive and set aglow with torchlight had, after years of living in bored luxury, left her truly awestruck for the first time in her life.
Cordelia was broken out of her remembrance by Tracey elbowing her lightly in the side.
"Alright there Cordy?"
Cordelia shook her head a little, coming back to the present day. "Of course." Cordelia rolled her eyes, playfully nudging her friend back.
"Not thinking about your boyf—Are those carriages pulling themselves?" Tracey questioned, having been distracted when they reached the end of the platform to see a long row of black carriages pulled by seemingly nothing, taking students up to the castle.
"Magic, Trace." Daphne replied thoroughly unimpressed. Sometimes it was easy to forget that Tracey was a Muggle-born.
"Oh right," she mumbled to herself, still gawking as they got into one of the carriages together and began their journey up to the castle.
It wasn't long before Cordelia found herself in the Great Hall sat at the Slytherin house table, enjoying a rather delicious feast.
She was making her way through a sizable mound of mashed potatoes when she noticed a vacant seat at the staff table. Looking along the faces of the professors, she quickly realized it belonged to Professor Snape, head of Slytherin house, potions professor, and Cordelia's cousin, a fact that both of them had a silent agreement not to advertise.
While Snape was not what you could call affectionate, he did seem to scowl a little less at Cordelia than the rest of his students. It probably helped that Cordelia was particularly adept at potions. Odd for him to miss the feast. Maybe he wanted to avoid the noise. Professor Snape did always seem vaguely annoyed with most school functions.
Shrugging, she brought her attention back to her plate. She had just shoved another spoonful of potatoes into her mouth when she felt eyes on her. Sure enough, sitting a few seats down from her was Malfoy, actively glowering at her whilst stabbing his fork repeatedly into his roast beef. Cordelia almost choked on her potatoes.
Tracey, having noticed Malfoy's leering, snorted into her pumpkin juice. "Look Cordy, you've got a fan." Cordelia let out a loud groan.
"More like a fanatic." Daphne said, having glanced his way, raised her eyebrow. Cordelia groaned even louder.
"You think he'll try to hex me or go straight for stabbing with the fork?" she asked witheringly.
Malfoy did not in fact hex her, or to her surprise, try to stab her with a fork. It was worse than that, so much worse. He would not leave her alone. Everywhere she went somehow there he was waiting to make a snide remark or out do her in class somehow. The only time he wasn't trying to drive her mad was when he took brief breaks to go harass Harry Potter. She frankly wondered how he found the time to make so many people miserable.
The first day of classes, in a cruel twist of fate, she was paired with Malfoy in Potions class. The look of betrayal on her face when Snape had paired them, had left the Professor puzzled, but he failed to take pity on her.
It started with the newt tails they were supposed to slice.
"Are you even awake, Prince? He said vertical."
"Maybe if you weren't daydreaming about terrorizing Potter, you'd know he said horizontal. Who cuts a newt tail vertical?"
Then it was the slugs.
"Malfoy, that's nine, stop."
Malfoy stopped, with a handful of slugs sneering at her. "What? No, it's eight."
Cordelia rolled her eyes at him. "Can you count?"
"Can you shut it?"
They had fought so much during the lesson that for the first time since she had begun Hogwarts, she had been out done in a Potions lesson, by Hermione Granger of all people. The bushy haired girl was constantly shooting her hand up to answer every question as if there was a 100 gallon prize for being the teacher's pet and it grated on Cordelia's nerves.
As did the look of disapproval Professor Snape directed at her. She had turned to Malfoy with a look of loathing that said, "look what you've done now." Which he had returned with an equally venomous one as if to say, "I wish I had a fork right now."
The second day of classes had not gone much better. Cordelia once again found herself trapped with a member of the male species that she would almost rather hurl herself off the astronomy tower than interact with. He is a complete buffoon. Cordelia was staring down at her paper in disbelief.
What is Gilderoy Lockhart's favorite color?
What is Gilderoy Lockhart's secret ambition?
"Number three: How many times does Gilderoy Lockhart kiss a framed picture of himself goodnight before bed?" Cordelia mumbled mockingly. There was a murmur of chuckles from the students around her, even Malfoy let out a snort of amusement. Though several of the Slytherin girls whipped their heads around looking offended. Tough crowd. Cordelia rolled her eyes and looked at the source of her ire, who was in fact, gazing longingly at the framed painting of himself that sat at the front of the class. Merlin's beard.
There was no doubt that Gilderoy Lockhart, their new Defense against the Dark Arts teacher, was handsome. With his wavy blonde hair and shining smile, but as soon as he had opened his mouth whatever allure his looks afforded him immediately died. The garrish robes didn't help either. That shade of fuchsia? He looks like a macaroon.
After the allotted thirty minutes for Lockhart's ridiculous test was up, he went about the room critiquing each student's answers.
"It appears only Miss Parkinson has remembered that my favorite color is Lilac, very well done. 10 points to Slytherin." Pansy turned pink and looked quite proud of herself. I may be sick. Lockhart turned to the next quiz and a look of disappointment came on his handsome face.
"I must remind you that writing any rude words on quizzes or assignments will earn you detention. Mr. Crabb see me after class." There was a murmur of laughter across the class. Much like Pansy, Crabb also looked quite proud of himself, though his large meaty head was always vaguely pink.
Cordelia was almost grateful for the pile of homework that she had hauled with her to the library. At least it would give her an excuse to hide from a certain blonde-haired menace for a while. She found herself a secluded table on the second floor tucked in between the high shelves and set to work the 2 feet of parchment that Professor Mcgonagall had assigned them on the Vera Verto spell.
If she was honest with herself, she was also trying to distract herself from the upcoming quidditch trials. She had noticed the posting on the common room bulletin board that morning and the nerves had started to set in.
So, instead of thinking about that she dipped her quill into the inkwell and tried to remember what Professor Mcgonagall had said about transfiguring anything bigger than a rat… something about spontaneous combustion.
As the fourth day of classes came to an end, Cordelia found herself stood on the quidditch pitch clutching her new Nimbus 2001 trying to ignore the tremor in her hand. It was her and a dozen or so Slytherin boys. From what she could remember, some had been on the team last year, the rest were new recruits hoping to join the team this year, one of which was unfortunately Malfoy.
Cordelia was currently glaring at the back of his head wondering if she should try for beater instead of chaser. That way she would at least have reason to hurl something at his stupid slick backed hair.
There were a few people perched in the stands to watch the trials, Tracey and Daphne among them. Daphne had even brought her cat Astrid. Though from this distance it looked as if the girl was holding a lopsided sack made of flesh. Professor Snape was there as well, sitting in the stands looking rather bored, probably only there to make sure they didn't kill each other if the trials went poorly.
Cordelia looked around at the other hopefuls. Cordelia and Malfoy seemed to be the youngest ones there. The rest were a few grades above them or more. Hopefully what they have in brawn they lack in brains. She watched as one of the fifth-year boys openly picked his nose.
"Ew," she said to herself scrunching up her nose. Malfoy looked over his shoulder.
"What's wrong, Prince? Caught a look at your own reflection?" His smug expression faltered for a moment when his eyes landed on the broom. Cordelia's nostrils flared at the comment.
"No, just wondering if the rumors about you using toll bogeys to slick back your hair were tr–"
A loud whistle rang out across the pitch and Cordelia and Malfoy turned their heads to look. Marcus Flint the Slytherin team captain stood in front of the crowd. The dark haired fifth year boy was tall, muscular, and had nasty looking disposition, which from the quidditch matches Cordelia had seen in first year, Cordelia knew to be true. In one match she had witnessed him kick the Hufflepuff keeper right off their broom for blocking his shot. He was no less intimidating to Cordelia now.
"Right. Listen up you lot! This is going to be a joint exercise for chasers, keepers, and beaters," Flint smirked, looking very pleased with himself. This can't be good. "Beaters, you'll line up on both sides of the pitch," Flint gestured with a beater's bat, "hit the bludgers back and forth, points for each target you hit."
"Targets?" An older and not particularly bright looking boy asked.
Flint's smirk grew wider at this, and he tossed the bat at the boy, who caught it with his stomach, doubling over with an 'oof'. "Yeah, moving targets, actually. Chasers, that'll be you lot." Cordelia felt her stomach sink. "Teams of three will fly across the pitch, sink the quaffles," he jerked his thumb behind him in the direction of the three goal posts, "whoever makes the most points makes the team. You get hit with a bludger, you lose points. See, we're killing two birds with one stone," Flint had said with a twisted grin.
Cordelia glanced up at Professor Snape in the stands in disbelief. This seems like child endangerment. If the Professor was concerned, he didn't show it, appearing to be more interested in removing some lint from his black robes.
Cordelia was beginning to feel a bit sick but shoved the feeling down. Something she was luckily quite good at doing.
Flint continued, "Keepers, points for every quaffle blocked, though I'd watch out for the bludgers as well. "As for seekers, you'll have a separate trial after this lot."
Cordelia herself wasn't sure if she should laugh or cry. Though it seemed Malfoy didn't have the same dilemma. She could already see his shoulders shaking with laughter. That pratt. Before he turned around looking positively giddy.
"Looking a little green there, Prince. Try not to be sick on the pitch," he snickered.
"The only thing that's making me sick is having to look at your face, Malfoy."
Flint blew his whistle again. "Chasers and beaters on your brooms!"
"Remember to dodge Prince or we'll see whose face is hard to look at." Cordelia made sure to shoulder check Malfoy on her way past. Earning another snicker for him.
Cordelia walked over to the other chasers and mounted her broom. She was flanked by the fifth-year boy she had seen picking his nose and Cassius Warrington, an athletic looking, squared-jawed boy who Cordelia knew by reputation.
Flint was hovering by the goals looking like it was Christmas morning. That git. A shrill whistle sounded and Cordelia was shaken from her thoughts. Warrington had immediately taken off toward the other side of the pitch towards the goals, doing a decent job of dodging the first few bludgers sent his way.
The nose picker on her other side had not fared as well. Codelia glanced his way to see him take a bludger directly to the forehead as soon as the whistle had sounded. He flipped backward off his broom and landed on the pitch grass with a dull thud. Merlin… Cordelia wasn't far behind Warrington, her new broom proving to be an advantage.
Warrington approached the goal posts, ducking his head as a bludger whizzed by and chucking the quaffle right into the middle hoop, narrowly hitting the keeper in the face. Cordelia, busy dodging two bludgers on either side of her, didn't see him deliberately barreling towards her until he had rammed into her side, sending the quaffle from her hands. She did a bit of a spin on her broom before righting herself and diving to catch the falling quaffle.
She went flying downward as fast as she could before just narrowly catching it, getting so close to the ground that her boots scraped the grass. As she took back off towards the goals, a bludger slammed into the piece of grass she had just been hovering over. She could feel the color draining from her face. I may actually die. She approached the keeper blocking her way and feigned to the left before throwing the quaffle as hard as she could manage into the right hoop. It grazed the post a bit but did sink through.
Cordelia let out a small cheer, before it was cut short by Warrington rushing past her. He nearly body slammed the seeker, who lurched out of the way. Warrington then chucked the quaffle right into the middle hoop. Bullocks, down by one. Cordelia wasted no time in racing with Warrington back down to the other side of the pitch to grab another quaffle. She bobbed and weaved between the bludgers whizzing through the air as she went.
She and Warrington were thrown another quaffle each and raced back to the other side of the pitch. They both managed to sink their goals without getting maimed by any bludgers. 2-3 now. After pulling a u-turn to head back for another quaffle, Warrington kept getting closer and closer to her. Cordelia knew exactly what he was trying to do again. Before he had the chance, she rammed full force into his left side.
"Piss off, Warrington!" she spat at him. He let out a grunt as he careened to the side. She sped forward hoping that would keep him off her back for a bit. Those hopes were dashed the next moment when he came slamming back into her, sending her spinning away.
"No, don't think I will, second year!" he yelled back.
As soon as Cordelia managed to right herself, she felt something slam into the back of her head. Cordelia let out a rather undignified yelp and everything went a little fuzzy.
All Cordelia could hear was a ringing in her ears and there was a splitting pain in her head. It felt a bit like a giant had mistaken her skull for an egg for his morning breakfast. She opened her eyes to see the stormy sky and startled a bit when a troll-like face came into her view.
"Bloody hell," she groaned out. Upon rubbing her eyes, she saw that it was not in fact a troll, but Flint. Right, but he really does look like a troll.
"She's alive!" He yelled out and was met with murmurs of acknowledgement. Next thing she knew a giant crow came into view.
"Wot.." she slurred, looking up a little dazed.
The giant crow spoke with Professor Snape's voice oddly enough, "Miss Davis, Miss Greengrass help Miss Prince to the hospital wing immediately." Might be a bit concussed. Cordelia finally sat up properly only to have the entire pitch spin wildly around her. I may actually be sick.
"Quickly, she's turned a bit green."
"On it, Professor." The worried face of Tracey appeared in front of her.
"Traaaace, wot chu doing here?" Cordelia slurred. Tracey was carefully helping Cordelia up with the help of Daphne when she heard a particularly annoying voice.
"She was mainly watching you fall off your broom and eat some grass." Cordelia looked to see Malfoy standing near the other player's snickering.
"You wish you'd eat grass, Malroy!" Cordelia yelled back. To make her point she bent back down, teetering a bit from the spins, grabbed a handful of dirt and grass from the pitch, and threw it directly into Malfoy's face. The blonde let out a yelp and sputtered trying to spit the grass out of his mouth. Snape let out a withered sigh.
"Enough! Go before I give all of you detention."
Cordelia vaguely remembered Tracey piggy backing her back to the castle, but everything was a bit fuzzy around the edges until Madam Pomfrey set her right in the hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey had insisted that she stay overnight just in case, something about concussions being quite dangerous, but that was the least of Cordelia's concerns.
Once she was coherent again, Tracey and Daphne filled her in on what had happened after she taken the bludger to the head.
"Warrington, managed to score two more goals while you were down. You know, for a great oaf he's bloody fast," Tracey scoffed. "Then there was that 3rd year Pucey, he managed to score 3.." She trailed off.
"And Flint is team Captain," Daphne stated. Though she didn't meet Cordelia's eyes, choosing to instead focus on rubbing Astrids fleshy ears.
As Flint, the Captain of the team, was a chaser, that sealed Cordelia's fate. She had not made the team. As Cordelia sat there and let it sink in, Tracey and Daphne exchanged worried looks.
"Cordy, if you made the team, you'd have to talk to those nasty bellends." Daphne said, trying to sound consoling.
Tracey jumped in, "Yeah, imagine having to wake up for early morning practice and Flint is your wake up call. I'd gouge my eyes out."
"Guys, it's okay. I'll get over it." Cordelia shrugged, giving them both a tight smile. Tracey and Dahlia glanced at each other, confirming how thoroughly unconvinced they both were.