In Which the Slyths are 'Integrated' into the Rest of the School
"I still don't see why we had to show up a whole day early," complains Lily Luna Potter to her friends Luther Dagworth and Vulpecula Malfoy. "I mean, my parents work, you know. And my brothers aren't getting on the train until tomorrow."
"Yeah," shrugs Vulpecula. "Mom and Dad didn't fancy showing up on the platform for all the 'peons' to gape at, twice in one year. Though I probably could've got Grammy Cissy to Apparate me over tomorrow."
"Don't you two read the papers?" sighs Luther long-sufferingly. "They're getting rid of Slytherin! Forever, if you believe Fudge—why he got on the Wizengamot, honestly—and that Wheeler woman."
"Ugh," Vulpecula shudders theatrically. "She caught me alone in Diagon Alley when I was five, and I still haven't recovered from the emotional trauma. Or the headlines."
"Yeah, my dad says she's worse than Rita Skeeter—" Lily begins absently. Then her eyes narrow, and she whirls to face Luther. "They're getting rid of Slytherin House?" she exclaims in shocked and furious accents. "Why?"
Luther shrugs. "'Cause we're all the spawn of Satan, and if What's-His-Name had just been drowned at birth, the world would be such a better place, so that must mean that every single Slytherin ever would be as wicked as him if they'd only got the smarts and charm enough to attract proper minions," he says matter-of-factly.
"Don't I know it!" seconds Vulpecula, laughing. "But that's not news—folks like Fudge and Wheeler and MacMillan and my Aunt Daphne (who was actually in Slytherin, but she's covered it up brilliantly) have always claimed Slyths are The Spawn of Satan. The question is, why now?"
Lily scowls. "I don't care why. We've got to stop it! If they think they can chuck out my House on account of some stupid phobia about wars and wickedness—or for any reason at all—I'll make sure they live to regret it!"
"Careful. Attitude like that, and they'll make you room with the Gryffs," Luther says cynically.
"Room with? Gryffs—you mean my brother, and my cousins, and Dominique, and that whiny little idiot Simpkins?" Lily hadn't thought she could get any more furious, but that was then. This was now.
"Ooh, that's awkward," Vulpecula comments. "I mean, no offense, but you and Sally the Silly Simpkins living in the same room is only going to lead to murder. Probably hers."
"Well," sighs Luther long-sufferingly, as their horseless carriage pulls up in front of Hogwarts Castle. "On their own heads be it."
"Potter, Lily!"
'You again, huh?'
Is this a travesty of the entire Sorting process as laid down to you by the Hogwarts Founders, or this just some ridiculous torture the Powers-That-Be thought up on account of being much too bored with the eternal chess game of life?
'Certainly the former; possibly the latter.'
Couldn't you just refuse to Sort me anywhere else? I mean, you're the Sorting Hat!
'I wish I could. But you realize that if I refuse to Re-Sort you, you'll be suspended, and if I refuse to Re-Sort everyone, they'll expel all the Slytherin students on some trumped-up charge. Neither will win you what you desire.'
Fine. Then what will?
'Let's see…I could send you to Hufflepuff, but you'd torture them unmercifully…I could send you to Gryffindor, but they'd torture you unmercifully…And Ravenclaw would sap your self-confidence until you struggled twice as hard to learn material half as difficult as what you've already mastered. Difficult, very difficult…'
Just help me. I may not be Slytherin's Heir, but I'm not going to stand by and let his House disappear off the face of the planet. By Salazar! Wasn't Fudge in Slytherin? I swear I read that somewhere…Hypocrite.
'A harsh, but on the whole just, observation. You are very brave, Miss Potter. And your spirit is remarkable. Do not allow anyone to sap your confidence. If there is a way to save Slytherin House, I am convinced that you will find it. Although it's not your real home, I hope you will find allies to your cause in—
"GRYFFINDOR!"
"Oh, no, oh, no, oh, no," moans Rich Hamilton the night of September 1st. "Slytherins? Sitting with us at breakfast, lunch, and dinner? Sneering at us over their subscriptions to Evil!INC? Sleeping in our dormitories? Why, Godric, why?" He demands of the ceiling. "What have I ever done to have that bloke Summerby, not to mention Higgins, living with me? What have I done to deserve this? No, really, I want to know!"
"Well," Lily Potter drawls from the other end of the Gryffindor table, glaring at the fifth year. "You are a bumbling idiot."
"Hiding behind your famous name, snake?" Hamilton taunts. "Your father may've saved the Wizarding world, but you're a pathetic second act. I heard you and V Malfoy were exchanged at birth—though that still doesn't explain her predilection for your society."
Lily leans forward and hisses, under the general chatter of the crowded Great Hall, "If it's such a burden sharing with us Slyths, why don't you do something about it?"
Vulpecula laughs. "He wouldn't dare."
In Gryffindor, those are fighting words.
Hamilton flushed bright red, and said belligerently, "I will do something about it! I'll get you lot thrown out, you frightful, sneaky, evil little girl! You and all your Slytherin partners in crime! And your pet Malfoy too!"
"Shut up about my sister, Hamilton," says Albus Potter, fourth-year Gryff, quietly.
"What're you going to do, Asp?" Hamilton jeers. "Especially without your brainy cousin What's-Her-Name to protect you!"
"Oh, Hamilton," sighs sixth-year Roxane Weasley, getting up and leaning against the table. She shakes her head at him. "I think it's time you realized—there's always another cousin."
Hamilton looks surprisingly intimidated, but is saved from having to respond by the arrival from the Staff Table of Professor Joshi-Yap, the new Potions instructor.
"Is there a problem?" She asks sternly.
"Problem?" echoes Roxane, wide-eyed.
"I do have a problem actually, Professor," Hamilton says smugly. "I have a problem with Slytherins eating at my table and sharing my dormitory. You see, I'm allergic to lying, sneaky gits."
"That's right," pipes up Harry Wood, a fourth-year. "You can't expect us to put up with Slytherins! It's unconscientousable!"
At this, V and Lily exchange a laughing look, and Louis Weasley, Head Boy and Captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, says mildly, "I think you mean unconscionable, Wood."
"He's right, though," argues Head Girl Melanie Jordan. "This is just ridiculous. What was the Wizengamot thinking?"
"Gryffs and Slyths, living together…" sings Vulpecula, grinning.
The other House tables (Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw—the Slytherin table has been moved out of the Hall) are beginning to notice the commotion. Scorpius Malfoy, from his position beside Rose Weasley at the Ravenclaw table, frowns inquiringly at his little sister Vulpecula. Hermogenes Bulstrode, newly of Hufflepuff, just looks miserable. He's expecting another Howler tomorrow morning.
"That's enough," says Professor Joshi-Yap. "Out of all of you. You—" she points to Hamilton. "Detention." He opens his mouth. "Another word, and it'll be a week of detentions. The rest of you, please confine your political discussions to your time outside this school." She glares for another moment, and no one says anything. Satisfied, she walks back to the staff table.
"Students," calls Headmistress Beaumont. The Hall grows quiet. "Welcome back. As you will have noticed, there are a few changes this year. Firstly, we are delighted to welcome Professor Sable Joshi-Yap, who will be our new Potions Mistress." Polite applause. Scowls from the Gryffindor table. Lily claps extra hard, to make up for jerks like Hamilton. She's already sure she'll like Professor Joshi-Yap. "We're also pleased to welcome Professor Pyrrhus Quirke, who will be taking over Non-Magical Studies." Less applause. Professor Quirke looks too much like a zealous reformer for Lily's taste. There's a pause. Then Professor Beaumont continues, hands gripping the podium tightly. "The Wizengamot has decided—and the Board of Governors has agreed—that the time for Slytherin House is past. Whatever your personal politics, I urge you all to remember that you are peers, and, as such, treat your new dormmates with respect. I need hardly add that the education of each and every student here is important. Our mission has not changed." Small pause, during which people digest this. "Furthermore, the Slytherin dormitories, and all of the dungeons save for the Potions classrooms, are hereby declared off-limits to all students. And now let us say goodnight!"
Chairs scrape the floor. Lily gulps. This is the part of the evening she's been dreading most. Predictably, she's been assigned to the same room as Silly Sally Simpkins. Her only comfort is Vulpecula, who brings her over to say goodnight to new Ravenclaw Luther Dagworth.
"Get a load of the way the Sorting Hat hummed the part about Slytherin?" he asks, grinning. "I think we've got our first ally right there."
"It as good as told me to save Slytherin," agrees Lily. "And I mean to do so." She looks fierce.
"This," Luther says, not mincing words—he gestures round the Hall at the disheartened former Slytherins and their new, unwilling Housemates, "is an outrage. Lily, can you believe you'll actually be trying to win points for those lousy Gryffs? Present company excepted, of course."
"I'm still in shock," Lily answers. "But I have got a bit of a plan. After all, no one here likes this at all—it's only those idiotic grown-ups at the Ministry. And you know what they say…"
"The enemy of my enemy is my friend," Vulpecula finishes.
Luther looks unconvinced. "Even that bastard Hamilton?"
Neither girl has an answer for that.