AN: Ayeee Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays, Happy New Year everyone. Having a nice time with the family, kinda relieved only becsuse I don't have to worry about buying more presents... ANYWAYS Thank you Naruhina1519 and Foxtrot1702 hope you guys have a wonderful holiday. The rest; thank you for reading. Follow/Fav/Review
A long sip from a mug filled with milk and a bite of his toast, Mortimer was having a nice quiet morning. Bulstrode sat right next to him, her tall stature threatened anyone near. Mortimer never really had a full on conversation, a few words here and there, but never more than a few sentences. An early bird, she ate quietly while he waited for the others to wake.
"Oh there you are Mr. Black – I was hoping I'd see you here." A jolly plump woman, Professor Sprout strolled into the great hall. "An important task has fallen upon me. If you'd be so kind to assist me, I would be grateful."
Interesting… A task she says, his attention was caught by his own curiosity. "Of course, Professor.
"Good lad." A nod. "Come with me and we'll get started."
Mortimer took one last bite of his bread, he waves at the Bulstrode girl before following Professor Sprout.
"Did you receive your timetable?" Sprout asked, leading him into the schools gardens.
"Yes, Professor Snape gave it to me this morning. I'll be joining you in Herbology it seems." Hiking outside the school, they were coming near an old, ugly looking tree with no leaves to cover itself with. The Whomping Willow, as he's heard. The dastardly piece of timber had an angry mind of its own. "Uh – Professor Sprout? What are we doing?"
A minor spring, she explains. "Ah yes! Headmaster Dumbledore wanted me to remove its injured branches. Should be simple. I will preform the severing charm while you merely cause a distraction."
Cracking his neck, he was puzzled and quite frightened, he didn't want to come near the thing. "Are you sure I should be the one to do this?"
"I wouldn't have asked dearie. But you see, as of lately, this tree has been targeting younger children – Don't know why… Anyways, you were my best student last year, so you know the proper way to treat the whomping willow."
Treat the what? There was no proper way. Mortimer said to himself. It was common sense not to aggravate the tree, you'd have to have had a death wish if you were to actually want to upset it.
"Ready lad?" Professor Sprout ready's herself. "Get its attention, once you do, I will go from behind and begin. It shouldn't take long."
Mortimer was uncertain but nonetheless, shook his head. He searches the grassy floor and finds a rather bulky pebble. About ready to throw it at the unmoving tree, a voice catches their attention.
"Oh ho ho ho – What's this here? A young fellow fan wanting to learn? By all means let me explain it in fine detail how to handle this rowdy ol' willow."
Both Sprout and Mortimer turned to find Gilderoy Lockhart approaching them, his arms spread wide, trying to make himself appear majestic.
However, the two were unimpressed and shared look before going back to him. "Please Mr. Lockhart your assistance is not required. We are merely going to trim off a few brakes – "
"Now, now Professor, I know fully well what you are trying to do. But there are better methods." He invades mortimer's personal space by ruffling his dark hair. "You boy, watch in amazement as I will now demonstrate the right way to chip this mere shrub." Like his arrogant voice, he struts near the whomping willow.
Pointing his wand, he fires. "Incendio!"
If the Whomping Willow could talk, it would probably just scream in rage. Its long, near sharp branches began shaking violently. Swinging back and forth, the fire did nothing but make it go ballistic. The three them were close, too close that they dropped to the lawn for safety. They try to avoid its twisting, rocking twigs as it tried hitting them one by one.
"Worry not!" Lockhart jumbled, his hands trying to cover his hair, he attempts to crawl away. "I meant to do that. Yes – To show why you never want to use fire as tool to – "
"Oh shut it!" Mortimer shouted, quickly he rolls his body when one its stems rushed down on him.
"Look out!" Sprouts warns the boy.
Flinging its heavy wooden arm, the tree aims for him again.
Professor Sprout watches as Mortimer avoids its attack. "Diffendo!" She casts.
Not as fast as Mortimer the whomping willow strikes the Professor. Her only logical defense was to use her hands as a shield. There was no mercy when another branch tosses Sprout back.
Mortimer grabs the several rocks that laid on the grass and proceeds to throw it against it. "Hey stupid! I'm right here you dumb plant!" Waving his hands in the air, he tosses another rock. "Over here! You leafless stump!"
His plans to antagonize the violent tree worked. It effortlessly ensues and stretches itself to try and attack him. "Professor Sprout! Now's your chance!"
It took a few moments for her to compose herself. But was quick to get her wand. Brushing off some twigs she gets up. "Diffendo!" She says again.
She repeats the same wand movements over and over. It ended once she was satisfied with her results. At the same time, Mortimer was busy running around, evading its elongated coverts.
The two were exhausted by the end. Finishing up, they had to run away from its range in order to get it to calm down.
Deep breaths, they huffed. Near drenched with their panic sweat, Professor Sprout fanned her face with her injured hand. "Ten points to slytherin…" She pants.
"No offense Professor, but I think I deserve more than just ten. . ." Inhaling the air loudly.
"Fine, twenty." She gives up.
Unhelpful Lockhart came to their direction, he fixes his robes, trying to rid a small green stain. "Great Job! You two have what it takes. I mean, I have probably done it in a far less barbaric way. I could make a suggestion – "
No more of his nonsense Mortimer walks away, angrily. His uniform; dirty, hair; messy. There were small cuts on his face but nothing too severe. He couldn't say the same for Professor Sprout. There were cuts all around her hands that spread to her arms.
Marching to the greenhouse, there was a small shack just near. Throughout their walk, they ignore the so-called new defense professor as he articulates them tips that they will never use in this life.
Sprout opens it and takes out a few bandages. "No time for the hospital wing. Class is about to begin. Here."
Handing him a patch for his face, he sticks it to his right cheek. In the meantime, the herbology teacher wraps both of her arms.
Out in the distance, students start making their way towards the greenhouse. Where they were currently standing, Mortimer tries fixing what little he could. Yes, him and Sprout were covered in filth. Whereas, Gilderoy's clothes remained for the most part clean, injured free. A scowl, Mortimer was annoyed and yet, Professor Sprout seemed to share his behavior, her once chipper mood turned foul when the pompous man, Lockhart, came to make a muck of things.
The students group in together when Gilderoy captivates their attention. " – Showing Professor Sprout the right way to doctor the whomping willow – "
The herbology professor doesn't bother to respond but stuck out as peeved.
Without him knowing, Tracey appears to stand besides Mortimer. "What happened to your face?"
He doesn't reply at an instant, or even looks at her, his vision solely glued to the annoying man basking in the children's interest. A heavy sigh. "Nothing."
Working in Transfiguration. Mortimer had ultimately decided to partner up with Granger. To her pleasant surprise, she had predicted that may be the case. It was between Hermione and Lavender, so there wasn't much of choice. Theo, unfortunately, wasn't in his class. The slytherin number count had gone by one. The only one's from his house were Tracey and Millicent and they have all but joined.
Currently they were turning beetles into buttons. Simple for anyone who has kept up with their studies, some were luckier than others. Seeing as how Potter couldn't control his beetle, Mortimer shook his head. Weasley, overall, was a walking a disaster, shocked that he hasn't blown up any of his fingers, yet.
The lunch bell, class had ended.
Mortimer snapped his neck and began to pack his things. After he was done, he and Tracey went out into the courtyard where they found Draco, along with Crabbe and Goyle. Tracey didn't stay long, she went to go look for Daphne before waving at him.
"What happened to your face?" Draco asks, kicking a bunch of twigs.
"Nothing." Mortimer responds, rubbing the patch covering his cheek.
Both Crabbe and Goyle leave the two heirs, they don't walk far, but just enough to give them privacy.
Though, his cousin doesn't interrogate any further. Soon as they begin to walk, Draco spoke, his throat close to quaking. "Father wrote me a letter."
"What's it say?"
"Don't know. I was afraid to open it." Rubbing his palms together, only his father could provoke such a reaction.
Lucius never wrote to Draco, or Mortimer, only in the worse case scenarios, a letter from the older Malfoy was a possibility. Most letters they received came from Narcissa, like any caring mother, she often wrote to them, asking how their day was, occasional sending them baked goods. It was out of the ordinary, a letter from Lucius could not have been good sign.
Mortimer did not want to dwell on it for too long. Listening to Draco, "Think he'll disown me?"
"I think your mother would kill him first." Mortimer's optimistic answer brought a faint smile to his cousin.
But his smile turns upside down instantly. "I'm expected to be the best. To show everyone why the Malfoy name is one to be respected. How on earth am I suppose to do all that when I can't even surpass that stupid little muggleborn – "
"You shouldn't care what anyone says. What you do should be your own business."
Slowly, Draco shakes his head. "Of course, you wouldn't understand. We were both raised differently. You were raised by a muggle, practically like some an-" He doesn't finish his sentence, Mortimer's expression turns cold.
"Like some what?" Mortimer dares.
"N-Nothing!"
"Like some animal?" Finishing his sentence, he knew well what Draco meant. But what would he know about struggling? Malfoy was born with a silver spoon. Their problems were easily solved by simply throwing money at it.
"That's not what I meant! I just mean – We have a different understanding of what our goal in life is. Besides, being a Black, you're expected to run it once the other one rots in prison. After that, you have to take the responsibility of being the head of the house."
"Have you ever thought that maybe I don't want to be? That maybe I'd want to do something besides politics? Maybe I want to be a teacher – Or a baker! Janitor…" He wasn't too sure on the last one.
Regardless, the effect causes Draco to feel a sense a panic, the mere suggestion had his eyes widening, you'd think his eyes were about to pop. "Are you nuts? Let no one ever hear you say that. No no no – If I'm to be heir, take on the responsibility – " Poking Mortimer on the chest. "Then so are you! I refuse to do the suffering alone."
Mortimer was taken aback. Draco, folding his arms, he was very much miffed at his response. Treating it as if he committed a crime, Black didn't understand why. Perhaps, Draco was right, he wouldn't understand.
Crabbe began to whine, claiming his stomach was eating itself. A droll stare was shared between Mortimer and Draco.
They continued to walk until a flash of light caught them by surprise. To find the source, they waited until it happened again. It appeared like someone was taking pictures.
"Who's taking photos?" Mortimer squints his eyes.
"Who do you think?" Draco snarls.
The only person who could have this effect on him was none other than – "Potter." Draco curses.
Walking pass his cousin, Crabbe and Goyle follow their little master. Mortimer hates it when he gets like this. When a came to Potter, Draco turns into a mad rabid dog, barking and running without a leash. He could never stop him from backing away from unnecessary fights.
Observing his blond cousin, Mortimer watches in pain as he bullies Potter and his friend. Even if Mortimer were to help, Draco wouldn't listen. He'd only ignore him and pretend he was nothing but air.
A sly smile appears on Malfoy's face. "A signed autograph? Why – it'd be worth more than your entire house weasley."
A small gathering of students begin to laugh, most of which came from the slytherins.
The anger within him causes Ron to whip out his wand, a near broken wand, Mortimer didn't think it would do much harm. But nonetheless, he wasn't going to let him hurt Draco.
Mortiner was about to make his move until Granger had hushed them, loudly, she was signaling everyone to quiet down.
It seems there were now two people to avoid in this world, Potter, and newly added, Lockhart. For
both were starting to become a thorn on his side.
Granted, Potter may not have done anything personally, yet the boy was a constant barrier between him and his cousin. Lockhart was a different story. He was blindly arrogant, fame has certainly gone to his head.
The spectator of students chuckle, studying humorously when the defense professor guides young Potter indoors, talking about the responsibility of being famous.
Potter's face turning deep velvet, you almost feel sorry for him. With Lockhart refusing to let him go, Harry wants nothing more than to crawl under a rock; you could tell.
The class did eventually start once Lockhart decided to let go of his hostage. But all too soon, the man couldn't stand not being in the limelight, felt the need to brag about receiving the Order of Merlin, third class. Following by, being awarded, five time winner in witch weekly's most-charming smile.
Mortimer rolled his eyes while Draco slammed his head against the desk, he too was tired of hearing Lockhart's endless rambles.
They were handed test papers. It was too early to be given out quizzes, but Gilderoy assured them that it wasn't difficult, had anyone read his endless collection of novel's, the answer would be clear and crystal.
This is absurd! Mortimer frowns, reading the question's how would anyone in this bloody world know what Lockhart's secret ambition be? The more he read, the more his eyes widened in disbelief. No one could be this self-centered… Yet, Gilderoy seemed to go beyond his expectations.
By the end of quiz, if you can really call it that – Lockhart read through each answer. And to be honest Mortimer didn't bother to think on it, heck – he wrote whatever came to mind. His favorite color? Pink. Secret ambition? Ridding the white hairs on his head. Greatest achievement? Staring upon a mirror for hours. Etc…
The only one who put in any effort was unsurprisingly Granger. Her face always turned pink whenever she gazed at the professor, longingly. It made him want to throw up.
But this wasn't in comparison to what happened next.
Out under his desk, Lockhart brought up a cage that was covered up.
"Now children – I must warn you, it is my duty to teach you how to arm yourself from the foulest of creatures. The most dangerous sort you can think of! Some may scream in fear. I ask that you all remain calm when I show you what true danger looks like!"
Mortimer, and apparently half the class, were now intrigued by what the professor was going to show. Their eyes glued the covered caged, they waited in anticipation.
Lifting the curtain up, they were met by a horde of the suppose horrifying creature – or creatures, more like.
Cornish Pixies.
The idiot brought little misfit creatures to class. They were loud and obnoxious, they rattled the cage, demanding they be released. Some were biting each other, poking and probing among themselves, the boy couldn't help but laugh.
And just when things couldn't get any worse, Lockhart felt the need to prove they are just as dangerous as any monster. The moronic teacher, opens the cage, releasing the provoked blue flies out into the classroom.
It was chaos after that. The classroom had spiraled out of control. Everywhere, the pixies flew, left and right, up and down. They start throwing books across the class. Vases being broken, Mortimer watched as Longbottom was being dragged up by the ears and on to the ceiling. Those who didn't stay to cause mischief, broke out from the windows.
But throwing ink bottles, ripping off pages from books and eating trash wasn't enough to satisfy these little meddlesome critters. They soon start to target the children. Seeing this, most of the children ran under their desks for cover.
Mortimer could see one coming towards him. More annoyed than anything, he quickly swatted the bugger, sending it flying towards the wall. Another comes, and this time, he grabs Lockhart's book, using it as a flyswatter. One by one, he starts flapping them away. It was honestly very effective, the book was heavy enough and it seemed to be the only way to get Mortimer to actually hold one of these useless things. Some didn't dare afterwards.
Draco was bidding his time under the table. He watches as his cousin bats the pixies. "Are you quite done?" He shouts out.
Mortimer turns to him. "A few more and I think I might just have a record."
Draco was not amused by his gag.
Ron hid well and Harry simply laughs to himself when Lockhart's own wand was snatched out of his hand by the woodland pixie. Neville hanging from the chandelier, wobbles and accepts his defeat.
The class finally ends when the bell starts. Immediately, the children all ran to the door. Dean Thomas being the first, Seamus soon followed, then Parvati and so on. Mortimer felt tired enough. Like the children, he quickly grabs Draco by the back of his robes. In the middle of all the destruction and sound, they run out the classroom.
Gravity had been given enough time that Neville had been dropped from the ceiling. He couldn't afford another moment, bolting right out, he covers his face as run into the halls.
No one cared, ignoring the ordeal Draco fixes his hair while Mortimer straightens his robes, composing themselves, not noticing as the Lockhart had ran out as well, leaving Potter, Wealsey and Granger to deal with the issue.
Laying on the couch with his eyes closed. Mortimer was listening to Tracey as she began to read the disarming spell for charms. Daphne was near, writing notes in her parchment.
There was loud bang of a door opening, followed by small running footsteps.
"Mortimer! Mortimer! I've read father's letter." Holding the parchment in his hand, he shoves it in his cousin's face.
Mortimer could tell he was excited. "What's it say." He asks before deciding to read it.
"Father's manage to get me into the quidditch team! I ran into Flint, told me to meet him on the field later on. Can you believe it?" Draco's hyper pitch voice echoed in the common.
Daphne snorted, Tracey didn't like getting involved, she makes herself quiet. "You know what? I actually do believe it. I believe you would do anything to get on the team, including bribery – So, how much did father dearest pay?"
Draco's brows knitted together before responding. "He didn't pay anyone. He was generous enough to buy the team new gear – to show his support for our house."
"Because that's so much better…" Setting her quill down, she stood up. "And here I thought it was sorely out of pure talent."
"You filthy little blood – "
"Alright!" A yell ranged out. Sitting up, Mortimer avoided the argument. Knowing Greengrass, she'd do anything to get a kick out of the frowning Malfoy. "Let's go see what Flint has to say."
Grabbing him the hand, Mortimer lead Draco out of the common room. Deep into the corridor of the dungeons, they ascend up to the first floor.
Reaching the changing rooms, the slytherin team was already prepped and ready to go. Marcus Flint wasn't far and when he spotted the blonde.
The bulky slytherin approaches Draco, before speaking. "Suit up Malfoy, you're playing seeker."
At most haste, Draco nods his head before running into the changing room. Flint gives Mortimer a look when he turns around to face his team. Mortimer took this as a sign to leave. Slipping out of the lockers, he coolly heads to the pitch. Settling on the sidelines, it was there that he waits. For nearly ten minutes, he waits before the team had finally decided to show.
Draco in his new quidditch uniform and broom at hand, he wore proudly.
Mortimer smiles, his cousin was genuinely happy. Happy to be apart of what he thought was the greatest thing to ever happen to him. They gather around as a group and start discussing tactics. Obviously because they only just started, they had no way of knowing that things were about to get a bit tense.
"Flint!" A hard shout coming from across the field. Mortimer could see the gryffindor team.
It was their captain, Oliver Wood. Spitting red, he was upset that the syltherin team had made themselves comfortable on the field. Claiming he had booked it and that Flint had no right to be here.
Flint showing Wood a note, there was a pause amongst team members. Mortimer assume it was signed by someone with the power to get the gryffindor team to back off. A heavy breath coming from Wood, Flint took this opportunity to show off their new equipment. The Nimbus Two Thousand… and One. Polished and cleaned, Mortimer could see the gryffindor team panic, from their faces alone, you could tell they felt threatened by this new development.
From where he was standing, Mortimer sensed trouble once Potter's friends decide to intervene. It was never a good sign when the trio came together.
Of course, it didn't take long for them to interject and comment about how Draco's sudden acceptance had been nothing but a rigged agreement.
"At least no one on the gryffindor team had to buy their way in. They got in on pure talent." Mortimer hears Hermione say.
There might have been some truth to what she was saying. Doing so however meant that he was going against Draco, who was already having a tough time proving his worth. It was a tricky situation but Mortimer understood overall what she meant.
That didn't mean that Draco did. His smug face turns sour, being demeaned by someone he thought less of. "No one asked your opinion, you filthy little mudblood."
The harsh word leaving Draco's lips, Mortimer let out a soft gasp. A word Lucius often said when describing the human filth of muggleborns, it something not encouraged to say. But Draco didn't care, he spat out that word like it meant nothing. What else could he do but watch the scene unfold.
The gryffidors wanted Draco's head for the insult, but with Flint's tall threatening stature, they were unable to get to him.
Mortimer didn't realize his feet had began move. Rushing to get to his idiot cousin. The closer he got the more he watched as Ron pulled out his broken wand. He didn't understand what was going on, only that Weasley was about to do something stupid.
And stupid it was. Instead of hurting Draco, the redhead ended up backfiring himself. Seconds later, he was coughing up slugs. Everyone on the field quickly backed away.
Once it had settled to them what their eyes were seeing, the slyhterins howled in laughter. On his fours, Draco's guffawing chuckling was heard around. Though it wasn't so fun now, Mortimer watches helplessly as Granger and Potter take Weasley outside of the field.
A sense of guilt runs through the pit of his stomach. Being with Draco had its ups and downs, and as of now, this would be one of the downs. In slytherin, it's reputation, they weren't known to be the apologetic type, or kind for that matter. A stupid idea flickers in his head, Mortimer thought that apologizing on their behalf would at least die down the hostility towards their house and maybe change their minds about what it means to be a real slytherin.
But he'd do it when the time was right
After an hour of watching Draco practice, Mortimer had opted to leave, to meet him once he was done. It was a little early to be heading to the great hall. so to kill time he takes himself to the courtyard.
A book at hand he settles himself near a concrete bench. He saviored these peaceful moments, a time where his thoughts weren't clouded by endless jumble. Aside from everything else thats happened today, Mortimer was having a nice time.
For once the attention wasn't on him. Good. He wanted to keep it that way. They still glared every now and then, but nothing like last year. Then again, it was too early to tell - Enough room for things to go south. Mortimer just hoped it stayed normal.
A long sigh, he shakes his head. He feels like everytime he mention's the word 'normal', often times it heads towards a different direction. As if he was simply setting himself up for disaster.
"Moon frogs will help get rid of the burdens... Not all of them, but at least the ones not so important.
Turning his body over, he was surprised to find a girl, a pale girl, with pale hair. Observing the uniform she wore, he notes that she was a ravenclaw. "Excuse me?" he puzzled.
She seemed was still, staring at the sky for a second. It took her a while to find what she wanted to say, near distracted. "A moon frog - You rub it around your head, and it should help you think more clearly."
Right... Normal... Closing his book, he huffs and rises from his seat. "Well. . . Thank you for the advise. Next time I see one, I'll make sure to grab it." He smiles. Though his smile was more like a gritted grin, repressing the urge to frown.
Another long pause, she thinks to herself by the small wrinkles on her forehead, like she was focusing.
She jumps suddenly that Mortimer flinches in surprise. "Great! When you find one, I'd like to very much see one myself."
She continues to stare at the sky before snapping her head at him. "I'm Luna."
A moment of silence.
"Mortimer..." Once again he feels the need to avoid saying Black.
Nodding her head, she seemed calmed. "I believe Harry Potter's grandmother was a Black. And, his Godfather was a one too - a gryffindor - but I'm not sure, maybe he was possed wrackspurts..." Scratching her head she thought deeply.
It was prbably time to go. He thought. The girl was strange. On whole other level of crazy, mortimer knew to never provoke such nutters.
"Of couse. Whatever you say. Well look at the time. I-I should probably head back inside."
All of a sudden. "I don't any friends." Folding her hands together, she stares at the floor, in a rather dull expression that quickly turned joyful. "Want to be mines?"
"If I say yes, will you go away?"
The ravenclaw thought for a while. "Mmm, Sure!"
"Fine." Mortimer said blandly, not in a particular mood to fight her offer. Instead, he turns and begins to walk down, away from the girl, he heads for the great hall.
The girl, Luna, stayed silent after watching him go, and only took a glance around before she started following him.
A friendship agreement, Luna made herself comfortable around him.
Of course, Mortimer didn't say anything, nor did he even try to get rid of her. He was rather exhausted by today's events, and frankly, he believes the girl wouldn't take no for an answer. She seemed rather persistant and this will probably be the most 'normal' thing that will ever happen to him.
To everyone's shock, they were bewildered by the sight of a ravenclaw sitting next to a slytherin, let alone at the slytherin table. Short gasps amd big eye onlookers couldn't believe what they were seeing.
Ignoring their flabbergasted expressions, they two sat at the far left of the longated table. Food already served, Luna began chatting about the many creatures her father had told her about. It wasn't real but he wouldn't tell her that...
Mortimer listened for the most part, frankly because he wanted to avoid talking about his own childhood.
Draco and Theo arrived not long after. They hesistated at first, they thought maybe they were at the wrong table. A ravenclaw at the syltherin table? Foolish. What could have pushed his cousin into making such a decision.
"Uh - Mortimer?" Draco, confused, stood there for a few seconds. "What are you doing?"
Responding with food in his mouth. "Eating."
The random girl next to him giggles when, tiny pieces of food flew out.
Draco frowns. "What?"
Swallowing his food, mortimer repeats. "Eating."
Theo decides to speak. "We know that but what are you doing with the ravenclaw?" Pointing at Luna, she starts poking the cooked chicken, wanting to make sure it wasn't alive.
Mortimer peeps at Luna before turning back to Theo. "We're eating."
Draco shakes his head, all too confounded by the sudden appearence. "Have you finally lost it? You can't bring ravenclaw to sit at our table - That's like having Theo sitting at the hufflepuff table. What will they say?"
Theo gave Draco a glare, shaking his head.
"Student's can sit anywhere. Except during the feastive feasts and ceremonial occasions." Out of nowhere, the girl Luna spoke.
"No one asked you." Malfoy was getting annoyed, and fast.
"She's right." Mortimer agreed, not looking up from his plate.
"What is she doing here?" A third voice.
"Mortimer - "
"A bad idea -"
Mortimer released a repressed sigh. It was Pansy, with Blaise not far behind, horror casting in their faces. Their words were getting to him. Mortimer didn't understand the big deal. He's aware about house division, but this was just silly! Who cares about who sits where.
"Everyone shut up!" Mortimer yelled, but not enough for the other houses to hear. "I invited here. We're slytherin are we not? We're better than any other house and I plan to prove it. Besides... if i'm to be head boy in the near future, I need to show that I am beyond petty competition, which includes house rivalries."
There was a long pause amongst his peers. Sharing looks of curiousity, mixed with intrigue. And after minute, they had come to accept his answer. It seemed to make sense to them. He was a Black, they were suppose to go far and beyond.
Progressively, things were calm. Theo, and eventually Draco, relaxed but were still cautious about the ravenclaw.
When Tracey and Daphne showed up, they weren't as questioning, more accepting.
"Good excuse." Whispered Luna.
Mortimer didn't reply, just a nod. It became quiet after a while they both continued to eat. Once they got use to the Luna's presence and stopped questioning it, they went back to their buisnesses soon after until it was time for bed.
When the time came to part ways, they waved at each other before going back to their dorms.
"I had a wonderful time." She said, tapping her chin. "They seem to think you're some kind of leader."
He shrugs. "They're more scared than anything really."
"Yes, I heard." A sad tone, she hops. "But it's ok. You're really nice. Keep being nice. It makes you 'normal'. . . Well, goodnight!"
Mortimer watches the strange girl go.
From behind, Draco smacked Mortimer behind his head. "What was that for?" Rubbing his sharp pain, he grunted.
"You can fool everyone else but you don't fool me." Draco sighed, he seemed rather upset. "I don't think it's wise to start befriended those outside of our house. They'll start thinking you've become traitor, unworthy to be trusted."
"You think I care? Besides, it's not like I asked her to. She practically stalked me here."
"I understand you don't want them to think you're like Aunt Bella, but there's better ways to - "
Draco didn't finish, he wouldn't let him. Covering his mouth with his own hand mortimer's eyes turn sharp. "Don't ever say her name out loud."
He pushes his hands away. "There's nothing to be ashamed of. She did what she thought was best. Father says she was doing it for the greater good, for our kind."
Deespite his feelings towards Draco, Mortimer realized he was still stuck on his stupid ideals, his father's beliefs. He doesn't know why he bother's trying, Malfoy's will never change. As sad as it is, there are still things he couldn't share with him, not while he held on to those pureblood ideologies.
"I'm going to bed." He says finally, leaving a confused Malfoy alone in the middle of the entrance hall.