That weekend, Hyacinth attended the first ever meeting of Athena Rosier's super-cool, super-exclusive, invite-only dueling club, led by one Nymphadora "Just Tonks" Tonks. Because Tonks was a Hufflepuff, she mandated that first-year Hufflepuffs be invited, and so it was only Slytherin and Hufflepuff first-years.
Hyacinth had sparred with Hannah Abbott, Justin Finch-Fletchley, Tracey, and Blaise so far. Now it was time for Athena. Hyacinth felt a shiver of nervousness run down her spine, because Athena was one of the best duelists in their Defense class, but she steeled herself. Athena met her in the middle of the mat with a sly smile and a wink, before they walked ten paces apart from each other.
Hyacinth prayed for some kind of miracle as she whirled around, remembering Professor Quirrell's advice: The best path is the quickest path.
In sheer dumb luck, Athena stuttered as she went to cast the stunner, and got hit with Hyacinth's sleeping spell. When she woke, she gave Hyacinth another sly smile and a "Well done."
Just a few days later, the Gryffindors struck again. This time, it was only on the boys of the House. All of their pants had been replaced with short skirts that had anti-Transfiguration charms on them. For the record, most of the boys were taking it in stride. Theo and Blaise, for example, had come down to breakfast in absolute dignity.
"Well," said Theo, "we figured that if it's alright for girls, it's alright for us. Not to mention that some of those wizards' robes look like dresses anyway."
It seemed some of the seventh-year boys had started a small rally within the boys' dorms to boost morale, settle down resentment, and throw the prank back in the Gryffindors' faces.
"These are quite cold, though," Blaise muttered. Daphne laughed.
"Now you know what it's like for us, having to wear skirts every day," retorted the blonde.
That was when Hyacinth was summoned to Snape's office, which as Head of Slytherin was just down the hall from the Slytherin dungeon.
The greasy Potions Master was waiting behind the desk when she arrived. She hadn't been to this office yet, and took note of all the interesting jars and vials scattered on shelves around the room.
"Miss Potter, take a seat."
She sat, wondering if he'd finally figured out who let the Weasleys in (although, come to think of it, she had no clue how they got in the second time).
"Miss Potter, have you heard of the Great House Prank War of 1963?"
How in the hell would I have heard of the Great House Prank War of 1960-whatever when I've barely had time to learn about the the past ten years? You think I really pay attention in Histo-
"Judging by your altogether confused expression, I am assuming you have not. It was exactly what it sounds like. All four Houses got involved, matters got out of hand, at one point an unlucky Hufflepuff boy was left dangling from one of the goals on the Quidditch pitch for nearly an hour before the Headmaster was informed."
"Um, sorry, Professor," Hyacinth cut in, because apparently she didn't feel much like living that day, "but if that was in 1963, you wouldn't have been at Hogwarts yet even as a student, right?"
Snape pursed his lips. "That is hardly the point, Miss Potter, I have had the story relayed to me by those who were here, both teachers and students, and you can rest assured it was very serious."
"Who won?"
There was a glint in the professor's eye. "Gryffindor."
"So then, I mean, -and don't get me wrong, I have Gryffindor friends, but -isn't it therefore our duty as the new generation of fine, upstanding Slytherins to win this round?"
"Yes. Yes it is."
"Oh. Okay. I see."
And then she was sent off to Charms, where all the Slytherin boys were still in skirts.
"You know," said Blaise, "I'm thinking we should just make this permanent. Now that I've gotten used to the breeze I quite like this." Theo was nodding his agreement.
And that was the story of how a good majority of the boys in Slytherin House began occasionally wearing skirts, and no one really questioned it.
A few weeks later came the first Quidditch match of the year. Hyacinth found herself attending, basking in the warmth of autumn which winter would soon drain entirely. It was Slytherin vs Hufflepuff, so all the Slytherin first-years found themselves in a cluster of silver and green, cheering for players that whizzed around almost too fast to keep track of. Ultimately, Hufflepuff won.
"It's that damned Captain of theirs, Nymphadora Tonks," cursed a nearby third-year, and Hyacinth's eyes shot to Drisana, thinking the girl might be offended, but there was a small smile on her face.
"It's nice," said Drisana the next morning, as she and Hyacinth watched another sunrise. "It's nice knowing that she's so skilled. She's a duelist, the Captain of her Quidditch team, and she's the most prominent up-and-coming recruit for the Auror program. Makes me think I could be like that too, you know?"
"She seems very wonderful," commented Hyacinth.
"It's a shame her mother had to go and marry a Muggle," Drisana muttered with annoyance.
"Have you thought," ventured the dark-haired girl. "That if your aunt married a different man, Tonks might not be the same -her name wouldn't even be Tonks."
Drisana shrugged. "It's not impossible, but I believe a tendency towards exceptionalism runs in the Black family."
Well, it was better than a complete denial.
A few days later, the entire Gryffindor House came to breakfast with revoltingly green teeth. Hyacinth was delighted to see Professor McGonagall facepalm, Professor Dumbledore knit his hands together in thought, and Professor Snape give her, Athena, and Blaise a sly thumbs-up.
On Halloween, Hyacinth was devastated to learn there were no true Halloween parties or costuming to be going on, only a specially-decorated feast in the Great Hall.
"We're Slytherins," muttered Pansy with an eye-roll when Hyacinth asked why, "everyone already thinks we're monsters anyway."
"Plus," Tracey added, "most of the things Muggles like to dress up as would be downright offensive in the wizarding world, because most of their 'monsters' are real creatures with feelings."
"Tracey, ever the bleeding-heart," snickered Pansy from behind yet another magazine.
"Rather be a bleeding-heart than a rotten one," shot Athena from across the room, but she had a smile.
"Not me," contradicted Pansy, "I'm fine just the way I am, rotten to the core or not."
So there would be no costuming, but Daphne did offer to put her hair in plaits if she'd like to look special for the occasion.
"Famous Potter always looks special," said Drisana.
"I sure do," said Hyacinth, who decided to roll with it.
That night, however, she was surprised to discover the festivities going on within Gryffindor Tower. Despite the ever-growing prank war, she was still allowed in with no more or less suspicious stares than she usually got.
But if there was one thing to be said for Gryffindors, they knew how to get down. The music was so loud she thought Professor McGonagall might come in at any moment to shut them down, and there were a dozen big bowls of candy being passed around and around the common room. Rumor had it some of the older students had gotten ahold of some firewhiskey, but that wasn't something Hyacinth would necessarily be interested in even if they would give any to a first-year, which they wouldn't.
Hermione, for her part, was going with the flow. She, Hyacinth, Lavender, and Parvati had secluded themselves into an out-of-the-way corner and managed to snag one of the bowls of candy for just themselves.
"So what are they doing down in Slytherin?" asked Parvati with a shimmer in her eye.
Hyacinth sighed. "Absolutely nothing. Why do you think I snuck up here?"
"Oh, it wasn't just because you wanted to see me?" asked Hermione, fake-hurt in her voice.
"Nothing?" shrieked Lavender, "That's mad!" Parvati was nodding in agreement.
"Sounds boring."
"It is. After the feast, all of us just came back and hung out in our dorm since the boys had detention."
"For what?" questioned Parvati with curiosity.
"Professor Sprout told them skirts were bad for Herbology class because of all the soil and moving plants that could nip you, and then they pointed out that the girls have to wear skirts every time they go to Herbology, and it kind of developed into a progressive riot in the middle of Herbology."
"Good," Hermione said, "They should be able to wear whatever they'd like."
The next move from Gryffindor came just before Christmas. It was quite possibly the most bizarre occurrence yet, because this was the first one that took place in the daytime, while the entirety of Slytherin House was at Quidditch game against Ravenclaw.
When they came back, all the beds were gone, and all the furniture in the common room too. A steamed sixth-year tracked down Snape, who then himself went to track down Dumbledore.
Dumbledore, it turned out, found it quite amusing.
"And it's all really gone?"
"Well, sir, they left our trunks, but that's about it. All the beds are gone, everything in the common room is gone, no one's found anything that looks like it might be Transfigured furniture."
Professor Snape watched Dumbledore expectantly.
"I know just how to solve this! Slytherin House will have a slumber party!"
Snape hesitated to ask. "With whom?"
"Why, with Gryffindor of course!"
"Headmaster, no," cried Snape in shock and horror.
"Headmaster, yes!" replied Dumbledore with delight. There was the sound of about 27 collective groans from everyone else presently in the common room.
All in all, it wasn't so bad for Hyacinth. Hermione shared her bed with her and they snickered secretly at Drisana, who was far too proud to sleep in a Gryffindor bed and so had found a particularly thick rug for the night, muttering about how her father would hear about this. Hyacinth might have developed an absurd fondness for the girl, but still.
Although, it became evident to any who might have doubted that Dumbledore was losing his marbles when a fight broke out between the seventh year boys and the old man said "A little roughhousing is good for young boys, it's how they bond."
Later, Oliver Wood broke Marcus Flint's nose, and it became clear that the Headmaster had absolutely no marbles left to speak of.
Daphne, of course, became quite friendly with Lavender and Parvati despite her skittishness of all things Gryffindor, but one fashionista cannot resist the call of another, and so they were drawn into an endless discussion of hairstyles and what the best winter style was.
Athena, for her part, minded her own business and appeared altogether uninterested in either fighting or befriending the Gryffindors, while Tracey tentatively joined Hermione and Hyacinth, and Pansy and Drisana sat by themselves.
It was a strange night indeed, but of course, the perfect moment to retaliate, and so Blaise, Athena, and Hyacinth found themselves clearing out the first-year boys' dorms of Slytherins, and kidnapping a fair amount of the inhabitants of the Owlery. It was also how the first-year Gryffindor boys woke up to Owls pooing all over their dorm, and hooting rather loudly for food or perhaps even attention.
After that, the Slytherin furniture was located rather quickly by Professor McGonagall, who could not bear the thought of whatever further shenanigans the Houses might get up to if left together for another night.
And then it was time to go home for Christmas. Hyacinth rode with Hermione on the train home, both dressed in thick Muggle sweaters and jeans.
"Do you think it'll be weird? Going back to Muggle life after the past few months?" asked Hermione.
Hyacinth shrugged. "A little. Sometimes I get scared I'll wake up one day and the whole thing will have been a dream."
"Me too," confessed Hermione, twisting one curly strand of hair around a finger. "It usually seems just too good to be true."
"Not all the time," muttered Hyacinth.
"No. Not all the time. It's still wonderful, though. Even with all the crap some of your Housemates like to give me, it's the most wonderful place in the world."
"Oh, so they were lying when they said Disneyland was the Happiest Place on Earth?"
"Must've been."
Hyacinth smiled softly. She already couldn't wait to get back to that strange old castle. "Yeah."
Hyacinth wanted to apologize for the way most of the other Slytherins treated Hermione. She wanted to assure her that she was slowly but surely working to change their minds. She wanted to make sure Hermione knew that even if Hyacinth were a pureblood instead of half, she still wouldn't think like them.
She wanted to tell Hermione that she only hung out with them because they were her Housemates and because she believed she could change their minds.
But that isn't true, is it? a voice in the back of her mind taunted her. You like them. You think Drisana's sweet deep down, and you like Athena's confidence, and you like Blaise's charm and Theo's cleverness and Daphne's girlishness
Shut up, she said back to it. People aren't always one thing or the other. You can have good qualities and bad. Besides, the only one that really treats Hermione cruelly is Drisana.
Drisana. Drisana who liked to get up before everyone else and watch the sun rise from the Astronomy Tower. Drisana who thought her father had hung the moon and her mother had nailed the stars to the sky, even if they were horribly prejudiced.
And didn't everyone think like that? Growing up, she'd always thought Aunt Petunia was the most beautiful and kind woman in the world, aside from her mother, whom she only saw in old, faded pictures. Didn't everyone think their parents or whoever raised them were the best people ever, as long as they were loved?
Even if they did, that didn't mean they couldn't disagree with them. They'd get older, and Drisana would see the truth, even if her parents never did.
Venus, who had settled herself into Hyacinth's lap for the ride, was kneading on her leg, and the pain of her claws pulled Hyacinth from her thoughts. Hermione, meanwhile, looked nearly asleep. She was settled facing towards the window, watching the snowy countryside pass them by. Curls framed her face, and there was a blush beneath the brown skin from the cold.
That was when Drisana stopped by, flanked by Pansy and Blaise.
"Hyacinth," said Drisana, "I've come to inform you that you're invited to Malfoy Manor for New Year's Eve. Everyone's going. I'll owl you with the details."
Hyacinth simply nodded, not wanting to disturb Hermione, who was so close to sleep she had blurred the world around her and had taken no notice of her tormentor. Drisana's eyes flicked to the Muggleborn girl, but Blaise just grabbed her arm and muttered "Don't. It's Christmas," before pulling her away.
Next, as an even bigger surprise, came Tracey. Her smooth black hair was back in a braid, most likely courtesy of Daphne, and she had a nervous smile on her face as she sat next to Hyacinth wordlessly.
"Is she asleep?" she asked in a hushed tone, looking at Hermione softly.
"Think so. Or there really is some Slytherin in her and she's just keeping silent," Hyacinth answered with a chuckle.
Tracey didn't speak for a moment after that, and Hyacinth wasn't entirely sure what was going on.
But then she did speak.
"It makes me sick, the way they treat her. It's a disgrace, you'd think a House known for ambition and cunning would know better than to make an enemy out of someone as smart as Granger." She paused, and Hyacinth didn't speak, afraid to burst the bubble of whatever quiet revolution had occurred inside Tracey Davis, and wondering how she'd missed it. Or maybe it had been there all along. Tracey had never acted quite like a bully. And then Tracey continued.
"They call her the brightest witch of her age, did you know that? Not to her face, not yet, but the professors all agree, and after that night in Gryffindor where the three of us stayed up talking for awhile I think they're right. If you're quiet enough, people stop noticing you're even there, and then you hear things. She's brilliant, and Malfoy's gone and screwed herself over. Pansy doesn't help, no one really helps it but you, and you know Athena tends to rise above most things, but . . . I don't know how you do it, Hyacinth. How you balance both sides effortlessly. If I tried, I'd never hear the end of it from Pansy and Drisana, but you do what you like."
Hyacinth decided perhaps now would be an opportune time to speak. "The trick," she said finally, "is to make them think you're really on their side after all. Drisana Malfoy does not believe for a second that I am a true friend to Hermione Granger. She thinks I have funny ideas, of course, but she believes I truly care more for her and that I must have some clever Slytherin plot at hand to get so close to Hermione. Hermione's smarter than that, of course, and doesn't need the ego-stroking. And anyhow, I let them know from the start that I was not to be pushed around."
Tracey nodded, fiddling with the end of her braid. "Tell her for me, won't you? Whenever she wakes up. That I'm sorry, or something that sounds less useless than that. Wish I wasn't such a damn coward, I'd prove that there's more good to Slytherin than just one of us."
"I imagine she already knows, but I'm happy to pass the message along."
Tracey smiled. "Thanks. Anyway, I should be getting back to Daphne and the rest. See you for New Year's?"
"Yeah, I'll see you there, Trace. Happy Christmas."
"Happy Christmas."
When she left, Hyacinth grinned, lightly kicking Hermione. "You're not fooling me, Granger."
Hermione cracked one eyelid open. "That was a heavy conversation, Potter. My burning ears woke me from sleep."
"That's only when people are gossiping about you, dummy. Anyhow, what do you think?"
Hermione sat up slowly. "I think she's a lovely girl that I wish I could be better friends with."
Hyacinth shrugged. "No reason you can't try. Every movement starts somewhere."
A/N: This one was fun to write. Anywho, please leave a review, and their First Year will be wrapping up in the next chapter. Thanks for reading!