The first few weeks of term are…rough.
Magnus quickly learns that he cannot tolerate any of the Gryffindors. He feels immense gratitude over the fact that the only class he has to share with them is Herbology. They're all too loud, too boisterous, too prideful. If they were at Durmstrang, they'd all be sorted into Stolthet.
Except for Hermione Granger. She'd be in Umnaya. That doesn't mean he'd like her any more, though.
The Ravenclaws are passable. For the most part, they ignore his existence when the two houses take Potions together. That's exactly how he wants it.
But it hurts whenever he's near the Slytherins, because he knows that's where he belongs. The trimmings on his robes should not be lined with yellow. The tie he puts on every morning ought to be green and silver. That should be him at the dining table, brushing elbows with Draco and Theo.
Instead, he's stuck sitting near Wayne Hopkins and Hannah Abbott, both of whom are all too eager to try and indoctrinate him into the world of blood traitors and Mudblood lovers.
It's a shame that none of them have the brains to realize that Magnus wants absolutely nothing to do with any of them.
The single most annoying student to grace the halls of Hogwarts, however, is Merritt Honeycutt. She has taken it upon herself to inform Magnus of every iota of gossip about him.
"Ernie Macmillan says that you're planning on becoming the next Dark Lord," she says by way of greeting several minutes before Charms class. She slides into the seat beside him, not bothering to ask if he's saving it for anyone. (He isn't, but that's besides the point.)
Magnus doesn't look up from his textbook. Didn't he already go over some of these wand movements at Durmstrang? "Ernie Macmillan needs to shut his kjeve if he knows what is good for him."
"So that's a yes? And here I was, defending your honour. No, instead you threaten to hex poor Ernie."
"I have no intention of becoming a Dark Lord," Magnus says through teeth gritted so tightly that his jaw begins to ache. "My honour does not need defending. It was already decimated when the Hat decided to put me in with you lot."
He's been trying to distance himself as best as he can from the Hufflepuffs. It's worked on some of them. Justin Finch-Fletchley and Megan Jones have decided to no longer commiserate with him; the same can be said of Heidi Macavoy, Alistair Summerby, and Leanne Otterburn.
But every snide remark, every callous response and backhanded statement - none of it can dissuade the likes of Merritt, Hannah, or Susan. He's just not sure why.
The emphasis he puts on you lot doesn't phase her. "Actually, I reckon that you've been the one decimating your honour."
"What is that supposed to mean?" He hates how pronounced his accent is when surrounded by Brits and the Irish. His w's don't quite sound the same; his 'What' comes out like a 'Vhut'.
"Honourable people," Merritt says, speaking slowly and deliberately as if talking to a toddler, "don't try to shun those around them. Respect is earned. Since I'm planning on becoming Prefect and Head Girl, I'd suggest you try earning my respect, unless you want to have a very unpleasant last few years at Hogwarts."
Before Magnus can respond, Professor Flitwick clears his throat, and their lesson on Welsh-originated spellwork begins.
Three weeks into term, and already, Regina has decided she will make the best out of a rotten situation.
This doesn't mean she's happy about being in Slytherin; quite the opposite, in fact. She hates this house, which seems to just be an extension of the worst aspects of Durmstrang. But Regina knows that, no matter how big of a fit she could throw, she wouldn't be able to wriggle her way into another house.
It's quite the opposite of her thickheaded brother. They haven't been able to talk much since term began, but she's been told - by multiple people, nevertheless - that he is dead set on being resorted, somehow.
"Good luck with that" has become her dull-toned, go-to response. Even to Draco.
Regardless. Regina tries to settle in. Emphasis on tries. She dutifully listens to Tracy Davis's rants about Gryffindors and how biased Professor McGonagall is towards them. She partakes in a study group with the rest of the Slytherins in her year. She even spends some of her free time in the Slytherin Common Room, though she still thinks the walls ought to feel slimy to the touch.
And she most certainly does not partake in conversations about blood purity. Regina learned her lesson back at Durmstrang: most of those who believe themselves to be superior do not take kindly to being told their beliefs are wrong. So, she keeps her mouth shut (hard as that may be).
There are some things, however, that she cannot get accustomed to, no matter how hard she tries.
For example: Pansy Parkinson is more annoying than anyone else Regina has ever known.
Then again, they've never gotten along. Even with the Hexbergs being separated from Magical Britain by an entire ocean, they still attended many Pureblood events over the years. Father and Mother wanted to keep up with their friends. It's how Magnus was able to be friends with the likes of Draco, and how Regina was able to befriend Daphne Greengrass.
Putting Pansy and Regina in the same room together, though, is the equivalent of mixing fire and gasoline. Neither of them could tell you exactly where their mutual animosity began. Whatever the case, she tries to spend as little time around the pug-nosed girl as possible.
But that only goes so far when you're both in the same house.
"I don't even understand how you can transfer from Durmstrang to Hogwarts," Pansy says. Regina is fairly certain that she has begun at least five separate conversations this way. "Don't they teach students, like, super advanced magic? Isn't that unfair? If I were Dumbledore, I would have refused."
Millicent sighs, long and heavy. Evidently, she is as exasperated by this conversation as Regina is. "Bloody hell, Parkinson, if they were so wonderful at Durmstrang, Hexberg wouldn't be nearly blowing up her cauldron every Potions class."
Being able to refute that would be wonderful, but unfortunately, Potions never has been and never will be one of her fortes. There's a smattering of laughter among the fourth-year Slytherins; Regina feels her cheeks flush.
"Could be worse," Draco puts forth, "Did you see what Potter and Weasley managed to do to their potion? They almost poisoned the entire classroom with what they bottled last week. I swear, if it wasn't because he was famous, Potter would've already been expelled before the end of our first year…"
The only thing Draco is more obsessed with than getting Magnus into Slytherin is Harry Potter. Regina wonders if he's got a crush on the Boy Who Lived.
For the first time all evening, Blaise Zabini speaks, voice steady and even:
"At least Potter didn't get himself Transfigured into a ferret."
The smattering of laughter amplifies tenfold. Draco, deciding it would be in his best interest to sulk rather than go along with the joke, merely huffs and goes back to his Charms essay.
Regina thinks that Draco would be a lot more tolerable if he could simply take a joke.
Susan Bones has taken it upon herself to walk beside Magnus to and from nearly every class.
He's not sure why. It's not as if he's been subjected to wanton jinxes from other students. Perhaps they're, rightfully, afraid of him. Durmstrang taught things that any non-Dark Hogwarts student would shudder at.
"It doesn't matter," Magnus spits out on the walk to Defense Against the Dark Arts. "My father intends on taking me out of Hufflepuff soon enough. I will be resorted by the end of October. You are wasting your time.
She makes a sour face: puckered lips, a furrowed brow. "You can't be resorted."
"I suspect my circumstances are serious enough that Dumbledore will allow me to go to Slytherin, where I belong."
He has penned letter after letter to Father, painstakingly detailing how this is a mistake, and how he must plead with Headmaster Dumbledore to allow him to transfer houses immediately. Magnus has yet to receive an answer, but he doesn't worry - much. He takes this as a sign that Father has been hard at work behind the scenes to ensure the resorting will happen.
Besides, isn't all of this further proof he belongs there? His ambition to become a part of Slytherin surely shows that Hufflepuff isn't for him.
Trying to figure out all the ways he's better suited for Slytherin is the only thing quelling his anxiety.
"You may be a Hexberg, but you aren't that special."
"You do not know what you're talking about," Magnus says, and that's the end of that conversation as they enter the classroom. He sits at an empty desk in the back of the classroom.
Of course, Hannah Abbott sits beside him, even though she prefers to sit in the first few rows.
Confound it all.
Regina wonders if Magnus notices the numerous letters she has received from Father since the beginning of term.
In fact, she's gotten more in the past four weeks than she had in the three years she attended Durmstrang. She was more than used to weekly letters from Mother, but the thick bundle of parchment from Father made her eyebrows shoot straight up the first time she received it.
It seems as if Hogwarts is allowing you to thrive in ways that Durmstrang never could, Father says, three weeks into the term. I have already heard of how you've excelled in your classes, and how you are already making alliances with your fellow Pureblooded students.
Alliances. That makes Regina want to snort when she reads that at breakfast. She isn't some politician vying to be Minister of Magic. She is a fourteen-year-old who doesn't want to be a total outcast like Magnus is making himself out to be. (He wasn't such a prat at Durmstrang, she doesn't understand.)
But Father is right on one thing: Hogwarts is a hundred thousand times better for her than Durmstrang ever was. Regina struggled academically, and it wasn't because she was incompetent. She understood magical theory just fine. It was as if Durmstrang's hallowed halls yearned only for Dark students, and wanted to flunk out anyone who was Light or even Grey.
She still doesn't know which one she is.
In Hogwarts' classrooms, however, she is thriving more than ever. She's no Hermione Granger, and she doesn't want to be. The girl's entirely too obnoxious for her own good. Regina doubts she'll obtain more than a couple O.W.L.s next year, but she isn't constantly being talked down to by her professors like she was at Durmstrang.
It's a relief, to say the least. Enough of a relief that she can almost stomach being in Slytherin.
However, this isn't the most intriguing part of the letter. No, that's what's at the bottom of the envelope. It's a ring, mostly black, save for the silver wolf head on the head, its' teeth bared in a snarl.
I hope you can appreciate this gift, the letter finishes after an explanation on other families to ally with.
A ring. She wants to snort again. She'd much rather have a broomstick. Not that it would do Regina any good; Quidditch has been canceled for the year.
It's a pity, because she's certain that she'd be the best Chaser any of the Houses has seen in decades.
"I know how hard it is to be stuck in an unfamiliar place. Especially so suddenly, and especially when Hufflepuff isn't where you expected to wind up. Certainly, it isn't the same as Durmstrang. But I heavily implore you to look at the bright side of things."
Professor Sprout's tone is probably meant to be sympathetic, but to Magnus, it seems almost condescending.
Her office is just as warm and inviting as the Hufflepuff Common Room is. It's cozy. There are several bookcases behind her desk boasting all sorts of titles relating to Herbology. The chairs that the two of them are sitting in are so plushy and soft that, when Magnus first sat in his, he sunk several inches.
If Magnus actually wanted to be here, he'd probably enjoy it. But he doesn't. A Prefect told him that Hufflepuff's Head of House wanted to have a one-on-one discussion with him.
At first, he believed it was to inform him of his impending resorting. But the look that Professor Sprout is giving him informs him that this is very much not the case.
"I remember both of your parents; your mother took so well to Herbology. I always told Lyanna that she would make such an excellent Healer..." Professor Sprout shakes her head. "But I've dealt with your family enough to know why you'd rather be in Slytherin."
He stays quiet. Magnus wishes he was outside, enjoying the pleasant breeze on this Saturday morning. The coursework thus far is light enough that he can spend most of Saturday doing very well nothing.
"But most Hufflepuff alumni state the house is their second family; I'm much inclined to say the same."
He doesn't care about what Hufflepuff alumni have to say about their former house. He doesn't even care about current Hufflepuffs.
Professor Sprout smiles. "Would you like some lemongrass and lavender tea?"
"No, thank you," Magnus says tersely.
"Fine and dandy. I hope you don't mind that I'm having some, then." A pot levitates into the air, precariously pouring its' steaming contents into a cup. "Now - Susan Bones has told me you've had a difficult time making friends?"
Magnus wrinkles his nose. "I do not want to be friends with Susan Bones."
"I'm not saying you have to be friends with her in particular," says Sprout, her voice even, "but I am asking that you try. I would hate to think of you being lonely in Hogwarts' halls. Anyone you befriend in Hufflepuff will be loyal to you until the very end."
He doesn't want to befriend anyone in Hufflepuff. Life would be a lot simpler if everyone could just get that through their heads.
They all need to take a page out of Zacharias Smith's book: simply don't try to converse with him. They're all wasting their time.
Magnus sits up straight, jutting his chin out into the air, trying to look as if he's above it all. "I will not be in Hufflepuff for very long. My father is going to get me resorted."
There's a silence longer than he would prefer. Sprout sips from her tea. The look on her face suggests she's trying to figure out the right words to say. Maybe no one told her of his plans?
"Magnus. You do understand that you can't be resorted?"
He blinks. Then: "Yes, I can. If I can transfer into Hogwarts as a fourth year, then surely I can defy the wishes of some Hat."
"Even if your father tried to get you resorted," Sprout continues, "that simply isn't how Hogwarts operates. The Hat is never wrong. Even though you may feel otherwise, and your feelings are certainly valid, you belong in Hufflepuff."
Magnus furrows his brow. "Just put the Hat on my head, and it will resort me. I don't see why everyone is acting like this is so difficult."
The look in her eyes is much too soft for him to be comfortable with. "I understand how this must be a great disappointment to you, but-"
"I have to go," Magnus says suddenly, standing up. "Goodbye, Professor Sprout."
Before she can say anything else, he leaves her office. There are tears welling up; he will not allow her to see his weakness.
He cannot.