Scabior
William Scabior bitterly tore up the parchment letter sent to him from his parents. Rather than Christmas wishes it contained harsh words and disappointment. It seemed that Mr and Mrs Scabior didn't think much of their son's newfound association with a Hufflepuff and a Gryffindor in the light of the recent food fight.
Half-bloods like that Tonks girl are a disgrace to all of us with Wizarding blood. Her mother chose her path when she left the Black family for that Muggle. And don't even get started on the Weasleys – blood traitors, the lot of them.
Scabior could remember some of the lines of his father's scruffy script as he sat in the dark light of the Slytherin dungeon. The long common room was empty in the early hours of Christmas morning; most of the House had left Hogwarts for the holidays. Scabior stretched out on the leather sofa and thought back to the letter.
You were raised better than this William. Never forget that you are a Slytherin and you will get nowhere in life by turning on those of your own House and family. You had better be thankful that I've spoken to Professor Snape. He has assured me that your actions were not your own and your insolence was down to association with that girl.
Will rolled his eyes. Mr Scabior was a hard man who strived for recognition in the Wizarding world, and he believed that the only way to get it was through associating with the right people. People like the Blacks, the Malfoys, the Selwyns and the Runcorns. And he was most displeased to find that his only son didn't feel the same.
The relationship that Will had with his parents was not an easy one, hence why he stayed at school for the holidays rather than returning home, as half of his dorm had. The young Scabior felt that people made their own way in the world, independent of others, and had to earn respect. That was just one of the reasons that had made him throw half a plate of fruitcake at his Head of House, Professor Severus Snape.
As the dawn outside the castle broke, the green fire and lamp lights of the Slytherin common room grew brighter. Spindly serpentine tables glinted in the firelight. Scabior threw the parchment scraps onto the fire, watching as the flames greedily ate up the parchment. Words stood out before being consumed. Mudblood. Disgrace. Shame.
Scabior got to his feet, stretching, and returned down the tiled passageway to his dormitory. Shunpike was still snoring and Gibbon was stirring. Rowle and Zolinski had left for the holidays.
'Why are you up so early?' Gibbon demanded, pushing himself up into a sitting position.
Scabior shrugged. 'Bathroom.' He rooted around in his trunk for some clothes to change into.
Gibbon cast his gaze over to the snoring Shunpike. 'Wake him up will you?'
'Why don't you?' Scabior retorted, irritated by the way Gibbon and Rowle would get others to do things for them.
'Whatever.' Gibbon sneered, throwing the covers off him and stalking over to Shunpikes bed. 'Oi, Pikey!'
'What?' Shunpike jerked awake. 'Bleedin' 'ell Gibb! You scared me 'arf to deaf there!'
'Wakey wakey Pike,' Gibbon announced, heading to the bathroom. 'And cheer up Scabior, you look like you've been slapped in the face.'
''e's right y'know,' Shunpike nodded, but then his eyes rested on his small stack of presents beside his bed. 'Cor, me uncle Ern's sent me somefink!' he exclaimed seizing a small box.
Scabior ran a hand through his long messy hair. 'Great Stan.'
'Blimey you're dull today.' Gibbon returned from the bathroom. 'You know why Pike? It's because his plan failed.'
'What plan?' Stan's beady eyes flitted up from his half-opened present.
'His plan with the Tonks girl,' Gibbon drawled. 'Obviously he thought throwing something at Snape would get him closer to her, but he didn't count on that ginger Weasel doing the same.'
'Shut up.' Scabior gritted his teeth. The other boys had been teasing him about Tonks ever since the food fight and the annoying this was that their jokes weren't far from the truth. Scabior had thrown the fruitcake at Snape because he liked Tonks. She at least spoke to him in class and didn't judge him for being in Slytherin, like everyone else did.
'Touched a nerve have I, Scab?' Scabior hated the nickname. He threw on his robes and stormed out of the dorm. Gibbons booming laugh was shut off as Scabior slammed the door shut. He headed up to the Great Hall for an early Christmas breakfast.
