September 1991, 1st year
"Alright, guys," Pansy said. "We've had an eventful first week so far, but thankfully no incidents, yet. Most of us are more than aware of what exactly it means to be a Slytherin." She looked at Harry in particular, the only one who hadn't grown up with magic. "But it can't hurt to go over all the important points again."
Pansy had always enjoyed being in charge. Usually, Draco was the only one she would accept taking over, but Pansy never complained when anyone of higher status did it, either. Aside from Lynea and Draco, among their group that would include Theodore, Daphne and Blaise. Had Harry been a pureblood, he would have been included in that list as well. From the other purebloods in their year only Neville ranked higher than her – and no one accepted poor, clumsy Neville as someone of high social standing. (His grandmother, on the other hand …) Not that people from other houses were important, anyway.
"We've already established that Slytherins always present a united front," Pansy continued, "and we've gone over the specifics of conflicts between Slytherins in length." Here she glared at Lynea and Draco. "But this also goes the other way – Slytherins protect each other. We have been lucky so far, but we can't expect that peace to last. Sooner or later the other houses will start picking on us, ambushing us, trying to trap us in a corner and do Merlin knows what. That's why it is very important that no Slytherin walks the hallways alone, at any given time. Do I make myself clear?"
They all nodded dutifully.
"The older students will try to look out for us," Draco said. "But we can't always rely on them being around to help us out, which is why everyone needs to be able to defend themselves."
Draco caught Lynea's eye and nodded for her to continue.
"I think we can safely assume that, as of right now, I am the one who has the most knowledge and experience with self-defence, so I'll try to give you all a crash course. Especially you, Harry, will need to learn those skills."
Harry looked terrified.
"Until we've all learned to defend ourselves properly, we should stay in groups of at least four people."
"And we should make sure no one leaves the common room without either Lynea, Pansy or me," Draco said. "At least until Lynea has taught us her grand-aunt's fancy fighting style."
Lynea rolled her eyes at Draco's choice of words, but nodded nonetheless. "Do you think Harry needs special protection?"
"What?" Harry asked. "Why would I need special protection?"
"Most definitely," Draco said, and then to Harry, "because you are the Harry Potter. People always thought you were to be one of the most powerful wizards of all time. Some even whispered that you would become either the next Dumbledore or the next Dark Lord."
"But –" Harry looked around with a desperate look in his eyes. "I'm nothing special. I'm just me – an ordinary person."
"We know that, Harry," Lynea said gently. "But the others don't. And now that you're in the house of the snakes, people will assume that you are going to be a dark wizard. Most magical folks tend to use 'dark' and 'evil' synonymously, even though that's rubbish." She sighed. "It's the same with the Forbidden Arts and the reason people are afraid of the Lémures – they assume all Necromancers are inherently evil, just as they assume all Slytherins are inherently evil. Well, not everyone does, obviously, but most can't be bothered to think for themselves and form their own opinions."
"It's why we can't show any weaknesses," Draco said. "Because they will descend on us like vultures the moment we do."
"Slytherin is a great house," Pansy interjected. "Don't ever think otherwise. But we are frequently misunderstood and put into neat little boxes that fit other people's worldviews. Slytherins are mean, yes, but most of the time we don't have any other choice – if we're not mean, they think they can just get away with everything."
"What is so great about Slytherin, then?" Harry asked. "Because so far, I haven't heard anything good."
"Our house traits, for one," Pansy said. "Cunning, ambition, resourcefulness, but also pride, determination and self-preservation. We snakes know how to use everything at our disposal to achieve our means. We look for the best and most effective ways. We will reach our goals, no matter what. Slytherins don't give up, because Slytherins are destined for greatness. But we also look out for each other, because we are loyal, because we built trust and earn each other's respect. A Slytherin will never betray you," Pansy smirked, "unless you deserve it. But we won't turn on you just because you have done something we don't like, either. We will talk about the issue and try to figure out how to deal with it."
"Slytherins are a family," Draco said. "We have each other's backs."
"Alright," Pansy said, "enough of that. Slytherin is great, end of story. We've got more important things to discuss."
Blaise snorted. "I think this was the most important of all, but do continue."
It was a rather long evening.
o
"What's going on?"
Theodore, who was standing at the edge of the small gathering of first-years in front of the notice board by the entrance, turned around to look at her. "Flying lessons start on Thursday." His expression turned sour. "With the Gryffindors."
"I, for one, don't actually need these lessons," Draco said haughtily. "I have been flying all my life."
"Really?" Harry said with bright eyes. "What's it like?"
Draco grinned.
Lynea tuned them out. Flying was nice, but nothing special. She didn't quite get the hype behind Quidditch, either. And it wasn't like she hadn't heard all of Draco's exaggerated stories about his oh-so-dangerous encounters with Muggle helicopters before.
Most of the boys, from all houses, started excitedly telling their wild stories (wildly imaginative, to be sure), some of the girls happily joining in. While others like Lynea, Theodore and Blaise could only shake their heads in exasperation.
"You would think they actually had a brain in those heads of theirs," Daphne said, as they were watching Vincent and Gregory grunting their way through a story of their own during breakfast on that fated Thursday. "A small one. One that they share between them."
Blaise snickered while Theodore furrowed his brows.
"I still do not understand how the Sorting Hat could put them in our house," Theodore said.
"Where else would they fit in?" Lynea said. "And according to Farley 'if the Sorting Hat put them in here, there's something great about them'."
The four of them chuckled at that.
A great eagle owl swooped down and dropped a new package of sweets in front of Draco, who opened it with great satisfaction for everyone to see – especially the Gryffindors watching warily, namely, the youngest Weasley and two of his dormmates. Meanwhile, Neville had received a package of his own and was too busy trying to open it.
"Hey!" Draco exclaimed and all eyes of the first-year Slytherins fell on him.
"What?" Millicent said defensively, holding a chocolate frog in her hand. "You've got more than enough of these. Sharing is caring."
"But I don't care. Now give that back to me!"
"You sure?" Millicent raised an eyebrow while she slowly unpacked the chocolate frog and took a bite.
Draco scrunched up his face for a moment, but quickly smoothed out his features. "You are right. I have more than enough of these."
Millicent grinned and chewed some more.
Harry looked between them with a confused look.
"House rules, Harry," Lynea said.
"But it was such a trivial matter," he protested.
"Exactly. Nothing to fight about. Especially not in public." Lynea grinned. "Although Draco would have certainly liked to make a big drama out of it."
And he could have exerted his dominance, if he had wanted to. Draco was several ranks above Millicent, after all.
Said boy huffed loudly and rose from his seat.
"Oh, Draco, darling," Blaise said in a sweet voice, "don't be so dramatic."
But Draco ignored him and went towards the exit, Vincent and Gregory scrambling up to follow him, intentionally passing by the Gryffindors. He was probably going to cause some trouble.
Harry, meanwhile, was staring at the table with a frown. "I thought Slytherin's hid all their emotions."
"Don't wear your heart on your sleeve," Blaise said, "at least not in public, when you're surrounded by people you can't trust. Don't show any weakness someone might exploit – don't show any weakness at all."
"Don't make Slytherin appear weak," Theodore supplied.
Blaise nodded. "You need to keep your emotions in check and be level-headed at all times, so you can think quickly and rationally should you ever find yourself in a tricky situation."
"Don't rush headfirst into something, think before you act," Theodore quipped.
"We Slytherins are known for our resourcefulness," Blaise said, "known to make use of everything at our disposal in the most effective way. Breaking the rules when necessary is fine as long as you don't get caught, but don't break your own rules, our rules."
When Blaise and Theodore were finished with their little lecture, Harry gaped at them like a fish and Lynea could only shake her head. They had gone over this in great detail just a few days before.
Tracy leaned over the table to get a proper look at him. "Don't worry," she said reassuringly, "we're still learning as well."
"It's a pureblood thing," Daphne said.
Harry shook his head. "I don't understand."
"It's not about being emotionless, Harry, it's all about self-preservation," Lynea said. "We are the hated house. It's barely been two weeks, so you might not have noticed by now, but you'll learn soon enough."
"Longbottom's got a Remembrall," Draco said. He had just returned with Vincent and Gregory.
"I thought you were going to leave without us?" Lynea said.
Draco shrugged. "You looked like you weren't going to leave and class is starting soon."
Blaise gasped. "The great Draco Malfoy is worried about our punctuality! What an honour!"
Draco just rolled his eyes.
o
The Slytherins were already waiting for their teacher to arrive when the Gryffindors finally managed to join them outside on the grounds. Madam Hooch followed soon after. She had a weird resemblance to a Hawk with her short, grey hair and yellow eyes. Lynea wondered whether it was a magic thing – like how their Herbology Professor caried the name Sprout or their History of Magic teacher was an old ghost (or the Lémures, a family of Necromancers, had a white streak in their hair).
Madam Hooch instructed everyone to stand next to a broom, hold out their hand and say 'Up!'.
Lynea sighed. Was this really necessary? Brooms weren't meant to lie on the grass, there were broom sheds to store them.
She still, dutifully, said "Up!" and her broom rose a few centimetres and then fell down again with a soft thud. Next to her, Harry was already holding his broom and watching the others struggle. She sighed again.
The next step was learning how to properly sit on and grip a broom. Draco was admonished for doing it wrong all his life, Harry looked delighted at the prospect of learning how to fly and Neville was shivering violently, looking slightly ill. The rest were a mix of excitement and nervousness with the occasional bored glance here and there.
"Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard," Madam Hooch said. "Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet and then come straight back down by leaning forward slightly. On my whistle – three, two –"
Neville was already in the air, stopping Madam Hooch short. His broom was rising higher and higher, while their teacher shouted after him. The poor boy was holding onto the broom for dear life, his face ashen. And then they all watched him gaps, slip sideways off the broom and fall, fall, fall down to the ground.
Lynea vaguely wondered why no one had cushioned his fall with a spell and then remembered that only Madam Hooch was able to actually do that. So why hadn't she? Now Neville had a broken wrist and had to be brought to the Hospital Wing while the rest of the class was supposed to wait and be good little students.
Lynea sighed for the third time.
Draco burst into laughter. "Did you see his face, the great lump?"
Pansy, Vincent and Gregory snickered.
"Shut up, Malfoy!" one of the Gryffindor girls snapped.
"Ooh, sticking up for Longbottom?" Pansy cooed. "Never thought you'd like fat little cry-babies, Parvati."
Lynea wondered how Pansy even knew the girl's name. She wasn't sure whether she should step in at this point or not. Draco and Pansy were being overly dramatic and mean, but there was a purpose behind that. They were making it clear to the Gryffindors that they were not to be trifled with. Although they could have honestly tried to find a better way to go about it.
"Look!" Draco said suddenly and darted forward to pick something up from the grass. "It's that stupid thing Longbottom's grandmother sent him."
Lynea identified the object as a Remembrall, most likely the one Draco had been talking about earlier that day, and then saw Harry's face going from bewilderment to outrage and sighed for the fourth time.
"Give that here, Malfoy!" the Weasley boy shouted and suddenly everyone's attention was on them.
Lynea grabbed Harry by the shoulder to stop him from stepping forward and went past him to approach the troublemakers.
"Draco," she said quietly, "Neville is a pureblood of rather high standing, in case you forgot." She turned a bit and deliberately glanced at Harry, so Draco would follow her gaze. "We want to show strength, not cause a scene. You're only making more enemies for our house."
"The Weasel was already our enemy, Lynea," Draco said, but he inclined his head in acknowledgement of her taking over. They had a pre-established hierarchy precisely for situations like these, after all.
As if to prove Draco right, Weasley chose that very moment to open his mouth again. "What are you whispering about, you snakes?" he hissed. "Plotting something sinister in plain sight? I thought you were snakier than that."
Once more, Lynea sighed. This was the day of sighs, apparently.
"Weasley," she said in a neutral tone, while beckoning for Draco to hand her the Remembrall. "I do not recall you even being friends with Neville."
Draco handed the little object over and took a step back to observe the scene. The other students had formed a loose circle around them by now and were watching with unmasked curiosity. Lynea looked around to make an assessment of their hostility towards each other, herself, and Weasley, but so far most of them seemed to be merely curious about how the situation would unfold. This also alerted her to a figure approaching from the castle.
Weasley flushed a deep red that clashed horrendously with his hair and his freckles. "Excuse me?" he snapped. "What right do you, an evil little snake, have to say I'm not friends with my own housemate?"
"What is going on here?" Madam Hooch said loudly and Weasley jumped in surprise.
Lynea turned around with a friendly smile on her face. "Professor, we found something that we think belongs to Neville." She held the Remembrall out for her to take. "He received one of these just this morning and must have lost it when he fell."
Madam Hooch took the little ball and inspected it, before nodding to Lynea. "I will make sure it is returned to him." Then she raised her voice and addressed the rest of the students. "What are you all standing around for? Get back to your brooms. Class is not over, yet."
There were no further incidents after that. Weasley remained furiously red in the face for the remainder of the lesson and kept glaring at the Slytherins, Draco and Lynea in particular, but the other Gryffindors seemed to be mostly unbothered. As for the flying itself – you could easily sort out those who had been on a broomstick before and those who hadn't. Except for Vincent and Gregory, who Lynea had seen fly before and proved to be just as bad as they had been on those previous occasions – and Harry, who had never been on a broom his entire life and was quite obviously a natural at flying.
"You have to try out for the Quidditch team next year!" Draco exclaimed excitedly. "We can both be on the team together."
"Hagrid told me a bit about Quidditch," Harry said, beaming. "What's it like? How does it work?"
And then Draco, with the occasional input from Millicent and Tracey, launched into a detailed explanation of the sport, the individual positions and some of the rules.
Lynea shook her head with exasperated fondness and mentally prepared herself for the discussion that would follow later in the common room.