-CHAPTER SEVEN-

-MALFOY'S MOUTH-

The bell rang loudly, ending the class, and the students began packing up their things. They were all ready to leave after the war between Penelope and Professor Hardbroom. James stuffed his notes without care and glanced at Penelope, who was carefully rolling her parchment.

"I thought that was never going to end," Rodney muttered as they hurried out of the classroom.

"Same," James agreed, slinging his bag over his shoulder. "She must be the toughest teacher in this Castle."

Penelope caught up to them, her expression as sharp as ever. "Tough, yes," she said and wiped a spider from her face. "But not a good teacher."

Rodney was walking next to Penelope, casting glances at her, smiling. "I can't believe you said that to her," he said, his heart still pounding. "You didn't have to stand up for me; I could have hand..."

"Handle it? Done it yourself?" Penelope said back with a smile. "No, Rodney. I could not just let her sit there and badmouth you."

James shook his head. "Hopefully, the next lesson will be better, and I am praying that she doesn't give us a new essay every lesson or my fingers will be snapped by the end of the month."

They made their way down the corridor; what happened in Professor Hardbroom's class began to fade, replaced with them chattering about their next lessons or Quidditch. Potions were next, so the three of them, still talking, moved through the Serpentine Corridor; they would have to go all the way to the Entrance Hall to find the stairs that led into the Dungeons. James was in front, leading Rodney and Penelope as a set of footsteps to more than one person. James stopped, Penelope crashed into him, and Rodney was that far behind. There was no that he could have slammed right into someone. He stopped and turned around, his face filled with worry.

Malfoy was walking towards them, one of the last people out of the class and moved with three other Slytherin students, two boys and one girl.

James turned the doorknob and pushed the door open a crack, letting in a faint draft that ruffled the edge of a nearby tapestry. It blew one of them open and showed an empty tunnel that quickly covered itself with a stone wall.

"Potter, I want a word with you," Malfoy's voice cut through the air and stopped James from opening the door further. Before James could respond, a disgruntled voice from the portrait on the wall snapped, "Close the door! You're letting in a draft!" Startled, James quickly pulled the door shut, casting a nervous glance at both the portrait, whose painted figure was scowling, and Malfoy, who stood with an impatient look, clearly wanting for a response.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" James asked as he turned to face him fully. Rodney had crept to James's back.

"Scorpius," Malfoy reminded him.

"I have a first name, you know," Malfoy said. "Malfoy is my father and my grandfather. Both are remarkable and wonderful men. Don't lump me in with them like I'm just another Malfoy."

"Your whole family are nothing but dark wizards," Penelope said hotly, her eyes blazing as she stepped forward. "Should have been thrown into Azkaban." Her words cut through the air like a blade, and the corridor went silent except for the portrait still muttering in his portrait.

Scorpius's face flushed, his pale face going bright red. "You don't know anything about my family," he shot back, his voice trembling slightly. "You think you can judge me based on a past you weren't even there to see?"

"Let's see," Penelope said, scowling and clearly thinking. "Your father was Draco Malfoy, Death Eater; your grandfather was Lucius Malfoy, Death Eater, the Lestranges, all Death Eaters. You're scum, and you know it."

He scowled at Penelope and stared at her thoughtfully. "The difference between me and you, all of my friends, are Pure-Bloods."

"There's Cassian," Malfoy said, and the Slytherin boy had stepped out from behind Malfoy.

James noticed Cassian almost immediately. It wasn't hard; he was taller than most boys his age and had high cheekbones that stood out against his pale face.

"Magnus," Malfoy said to the short but very fat boy on his right.

James thought he was staring at a troll, but it turned out to be a second Slytherin boy whose too-tight robes and scowling face made him look like the troll that his father had told him about facing in his first year. The boy didn't speak so much, just a grunt, as his words were strained and as if he couldn't fully understand it.

"Also, Seraphina Blackthorn," Malfoy said with a smile. "Blackthorns are a wealthy and pure family. Her mother works in the Ministry."

"What does she do at the Ministry?" James asked.

"She works from Wizengamot." Seraphina Blackthorn was a tiny little wisp of a girl, her frame so thin that it seemed a strong wind might carry her away. Her jet-black hair tumbled down her back in loose, uneven waves as dark as midnight and often falling into her face.

She glanced at Penelope, almost with a teasing grin. She wasn't as unattractive as Magnus, but the scowl on her face made her appear just as unappealing as she fixed James with a look of utter disgust.

"Pure-bloods," Malfoy said with a grin, tapping the Slytherin badge on his chest, which gleamed in the flickering torchlight.

"Purebloods don't mean anything," Penelope said with a scowl. "It doesn't mean anything. There are plenty of witches and wizards that have come to Hogwarts, excelled and gone on to do more things in their lives than your family. Your family had money, yes, but nothing else.

"Muggle, blood traitors, mudbloods, all scum," Malfoy sneered. "Salazar Slytherin had the greatest idea by banning them all from Hogwarts."

"There's a reason that he was forced out of the school and died alone," James said quickly. "What did you want?"

"Still clinging to your famous, I see. Let me tell you something if nobody else is going to tell you. It's not going to protect you this time. Not now that Dumbledore isn't here to play favourites."

James didn't scowl but stepped forward, ignoring Rodney's hand as it reached for his shoulder. Instead, he closed the distance, bringing his face level with Malfoy's. They stood at the end of the corridor, unmoving, green eyes locked with pale grey.

"Don't you have anything better to do?" James asked Malfoy, his tone sharp. "We've got a potions class to get to."

Malfoy turned, his smirk widening. "Oh, I have plenty to do, Potter, like ensuring Slytherin wins the House Cup this year. Not that it'll be difficult, with you and your little band of Gryffindor misfits dragging your house down."

Rodney bristled but kept a step behind James while Penelope crossed her arms, fixing Malfoy with a cold glare.

"Winning the House Cup?" Penelope said sharply. "You'd have to actually earn points for that, Malfoy. Something tells me you're better at losing them."

Malfoy's smirk faltered briefly, but he quickly regained it. "We'll see, won't we?" he said, his drawl growing nastier. "It's only a matter of time before Gryffindor gets knocked off its pedestal. And when it happens, don't say I didn't warn you.

James stepped closer, his eyes narrowing. "Talk all you want, Malfoy," he said evenly, "but actions speak louder. Let's see how long you last when it really counts."

For a moment, Malfoy's smirk vanished entirely, and his cold grey eyes locked with James's. Then he let out a soft chuckle and turned away. "Enjoy your little delusions, Potter," he said over his shoulder as he walked off. "They won't last."

"We have to get to Potions," Penelope warned them.

They went out of the corridor and onto the stone staircase

"Nightdusk," he said, stopping her from going down the steps.

"What do you want?" she said, standing on the steps that could easily swing right and send them somewhere else.

"Oh no!" Malfoy said; his shoulder twitched first, and he pretended to be blasted back only to be caught by Magnus and Cassian. "Am I hurt? I can't stop twitching or rolling my eyes? Did someone cast a really nasty curse on me? Maybe an Auror couldn't handle a job just like..."

That was as far as he got, and he couldn't finish the last sentence. Penelope's eyes flashed with fury, and before anyone could stop her, she marched forward and shoved Malfoy hard. He stumbled backwards, not pretending this time, caught off guard, his smug expression giving way to genuine surprise.

"Shut up!" Penelope snapped, her voice trembling with anger. Her face was pale, and her hands shook as she clenched them tightly at her sides. "Don't you dare mock her!"

"Mock who?" Malfoy asked, and his eyebrow arched. "Your pathetic mother couldn't even handle a simple curse. Witches have been hit with stronger spells and never ended up like her.

She quickly drew her wand just as Professor Hardbroom emerged from the doors, coming down the steps.

"What is the meaning of this?" Professor Hardbroom's tone echoed down the corridor as the first years turned to see her walking down toward them, her robes swishing behind her. Her dark eyes swept over the staircase. She saw Penelope standing there, frozen, Malfoy regaining his footing, and James and Rodney standing frozen in shock. Malfoy's three friends had quickly left when they heard Professor Hardbroom's voice from behind.

Penelope's breathing was heavy, but she forced herself to stand tall. "He was mocking my mother," she said, her voice trembling slightly though her gaze remained steady.

Professor Hardbroom's sharp eyes flicked to Malfoy, who had regained his composure and now wore his most innocent expression that did not match his face. "I didn't mean anything by it," Malfoy said smoothly, shrugging. "I was just joking, and she overreacted. She pushed me and drew her wand. I was so scared I thought she was going to hex me."

"Hex you?" Professor Hardbroom asked with a thin sneer.

"Yes, Miss Hardbroom," Malfoy said. "Her wand is out," he explained, pointing.

Penelope hadn't even realised that she whipped her wand out.

"Miss Nightdusk?" Professor Hardbroom asked sharply, her tone forcing Penelope to lift her head up from the staircase. "Why is your wand drawn?"

The staircase began to creak and groan underneath them. Professor Hardbroom glanced at the wand, shaking his head. "I won't take points off you, as I need to find out why you drew your wand."

Professor Hardbroom pulled her wand out, pointing at the staircase

"Malfoy mocked my mother, who is in St Mungo's," Penelope said, her voice slightly trembling.

"Your mother?" Professor Hardbroom said thoughtfully, a flicker of recognition in her eyes. "The Auror?"

Professor Hardbroom turned to Malfoy, her gaze icy and fixed on the boy with a shocked look. "Detention, Mr. Malfoy," she snapped. "And twenty points from Slytherin. You insult a woman who became disabled due to ridding the world of dark wizards."

James laughed, a hint of satisfaction flickering across his face.

"Miss Nightdusk," Hardbroom said at last. "Physical altercations are not tolerated at Hogwarts. Regardless of the provocation, you should know better."

Penelope stiffened but refused to back down. "He was mocking my mother," she repeated, her voice steadier now. "I won't apologise for defending her."

"Detention, Miss Nightdusk," Professor Hardbroom said curtly.

Hardbroom straightened, her sharp gaze sweeping over all of them. "Both of you will report to my office on Friday afternoon," she said crisply. "We will discuss the consequences of your actions in detail."

"Yes, Professor," Penelope said, her voice tight but unwavering.

"Understood, Professor," Malfoy added, his eyes narrowed at Professor Hardbroom.

Professor Hardbroom turned sharply, her dark eyes locking onto James and Rodney as they moved to follow Penelope down the corridor.

"And Potter," she called, her voice stopping him from leaving the staircase. James froze mid-step, his heart sinking even before she continued. "Detention. Friday afternoon as well. Ten points from your house."

James turned, his brow furrowed. "But I didn't do anything!"

Hardbroom silenced him with a raised hand. "You stood there and allowed this to escalate. Your lack of intervention speaks volumes, Potter. I will not tolerate that in my students."

"Miss Hardbroom?" James asked.

"Yes?" Professor Hardbroom

"Is it okay if I say something?" James asked.

"Yes," Professor Hardbroom said, nodding.

"How would you know that I didn't try to do anything when you weren't even here?"

Professor Hardbroom watched James and couldn't help but smile at him. "You think I didn't hear anything when I was coming to the end of the corridor?" she said, grinning. Archibald didn't know whether he was imagining it or not, but it seemed as if Professor Hardbroom was staring at him to read his eyes. He didn't try to stop her, which was correct, but there was no way that she would be able to hear through a thick wooden door and stone. Could she read his mind? Her eyes swept him again, looking at him.

Rodney, who had been attempting to inch away unnoticed, suddenly found himself in the spotlight as Hardbroom's piercing gaze shifted to him. "And you, Mr. Havisham," she said, her tone heavy with disgust. "For standing there and doing nothing but gawking and egging Penelope on. You will get detention as well and also ten points from your house."

Rodney's face turned crimson. "I—I wasn't egging anyone on, Professor," he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper. "I didn't—"

James exchanged a look with Rodney, who seemed to wilt under the weight of Hardbroom's words. Neither dared to argue further as they turned to follow Penelope, who was already a few steps ahead, her head low and looking up.

As they walked, Rodney muttered under his breath, "This is so unfair. We didn't even do anything."

Penelope glanced over her shoulder, her expression unreadable. "You didn't deserve detention," she said softly, her voice missing its usual edge. "That was my fight."

"Yeah," James said, nodding. "If she doesn't sort him out, I will."

"Us Gryffindors stick together, no matter what," James said.

Rodney groaned. "I just wish she'd punish Malfoy properly for once."

They headed to their next class. Passing through the Entrance Hall, they noticed the four hourglasses, already scattered with a few glistening gems, reflecting the early efforts of each house. Slytherin had the most by far, followed by Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw. Gryffindor, however, had almost nothing in its hourglass.

They couldn't see even a single ruby glistening at all. Above the hourglasses, despite not being there when James walked past for the Sorting.

Salazar's Slytherin portrait loomed over the emerald-filled hourglass, giving off a cold look that could kill. His long, dark hair framed a pale and monkeyish face, with high cheekbones showing a thin, neatly trimmed beard that tapered to a sharp point. Piercing green eyes, matching the gems in this hourglass below, seemed to follow anyone who dared look up at him. A long sweeping cloak of deep forest green was fastened at his throat with a silver serpent broach. Behind him, the background of the portrait showed a shadowy marshland overgrown with twisting vines and dark water.

Helga Hufflepuff's portrait showed warmth and kindness, which is very different from the portrait on the right. Her round, gentle face was framed by long, soft, honey-blonde waves that draped over her shoulders and cheek, giving off a faint red colour, smiling at everyone who walked through the Entrance Hall. Her hazel eyes sparkled with friendly light as though she was ready to offer a comforting word or a hearty meal. She wore robes of rich golden-yellow velvet with patterns of wheat and vines in black. Around her neck, a delicate badger-shaped pendant hung from a simple chain. The background of the portrait showed a sunny meadow dotted with wildflowers and framed by a dense forest.

The sight of Rowena Ravenclaw gave a sense of restrained confidence and royal wisdom. Her midnight-black hair, which glistened with blue overtones, fell in beautiful waves over her shoulder, framing her face. Under elegantly arched brows, her piercing blue eyes seemed to stare out of the portrait and welcome. Her long neck was framed by a high, elaborate collar, and she wore a deep-sapphire blue gown with silver lapels that glistened like stars. Wit beyond measure is a man's greatest treasure was scribbled on the dainty diadem that rested on her forehead and was adorned with a single sparking sapphire.

Godric Gryinffdor was there. He was wearing gold and crimson robes that were beautifully decorated with pictures of flames and roaring lions. At his side lay a shining sword, the blade glimmering with an almost magical sparkle, the hilt adorned with rubies. Around his neck, a golden medallion with the Gryffindor lion was shown with pride. The background featured a windswept mountainside beneath a striking orange and red sunset, showing bravery in the face of hardship.

A magnificent lion, whose untamed and wild mane reflected the boldness of its owner, rested at his feet. Although Godric's face was friendly, it could have been harsh at the same time.

Penelope said, "I can't stand Godric looking at me like that, so let's just go to Potions."

A lot of the Slytherins were already pooling into the Dungeons, opening and closing the door. It was a huge oak door with a silver doorknob wrapped around it engraved with a snake.