—CHAPTER FIVE—

In the House of the Snake

The Slytherin common room was far from what Orthosi had expected. She had thought it would be a shabby, dank, dungeon sewer. But nothing could have been farther from the truth.

The ceiling was low and comprised of dark stone that glimmered with reflections from the lake visible through large windows. The furnishings, all green, had not been spared any expense as precious metals and jewels were incorporated even into the footrests. The torches and the fireplace glowed with emerald beauty, shading the common room in green hues. Little blue lights rose from the floor and floated about the room.

It was oddly quiet in the common room on the next Thursday morning. Not many of the Slytherins left the confines of their dorms when their schedules lacked classes. In fact, none of the sixth- or seventh-years seemed to be in the common room at all.

Orthosi currently sat in a comfortable chair next to a streaming fountain in the centre of the common room. She pulled out a notebook and began to write, placing her inkwell on the chair's foldable tray. All one had to do to access the chair's cupholders and multiple trays was touch it with the tip of one's wand.

'I grew up in the countryside,' Yleni said from across the fountain. She and Alilva were talking with Orthosi. 'My family owns an old castle there. My mother cares for me and my younger brother now, but she used to work for a robe studio creating designs.'

'My mother doesn't work, but my father is a shoe-maker,' Alilva said.

'Is he the owner of Mercury Footwear?' Yleni asked.

'Uh, yes,' Alilva said quietly. 'What do your parents do, Orthosi?'

Orthosi, who was currently making notes on managing homework schedules, answered. 'Oh, my mum is a healer for St. Mungo's. My father doesn't really do more than paperwork; he's a Muggle.'

Yleni lowered her head, as if in condolences.

'Does your father work anywhere, Yleni?' Orthosi questioned.

'He works at the ministry,' Yleni answered quickly.

'Really? What department?' Orthosi pressed.

'He's…' Yleni trailed off. 'He's an Unspeakable for the Department of Mysteries.'

Orthosi's eyebrows raised in surprise.

'Is that how, you, erm,' Alilva said, looking to Yleni's left eye.

'Is that how you got your scar?' Orthosi finished Alilva's question, curiosity biting at her tongue.

Yleni glared, her face reddening, then stood and strode straight back to the first-year girls' dormitories.

Alilva watched her leave, her face unreadable. 'Do you think people here in Slytherin act like this normally, or is she different?' The girl turned to Orthosi, her incredibly green eyes etched with the tiniest hint of concern.

'I wouldn't know,' Orthosi said. 'I'm the first of my family to be sorted into Slytherin.'

Alilva's posture seemed to relax a bit. 'Really? Me too. It seems to me like everyone else's families have always been in Slytherin.' She looked around the green common room.

'Purebloods,' Orthosi said. 'What houses are your family from? My mum was a Gryffindor, no surprise. My eldest brother was a Hufflepuff, and my other brother is a Gryffindor.'

'Oh, a mix of houses,' Alilva said, gazing intently at the fireplace.

Orthosi peered closer, trying to see what she was so interested in.

'I have to go get ready for flying class,' Alilva said, abruptly standing up and leaving.

Two people suddenly leaving a conversation in one sitting? Orthosi thought. I can believe perhaps one secret, but two? Orthosi put away her notebook, pondering the odd behaviour. She wandered over to another section of the common room. A boy in her year was currently busy reading a book. His lips and fingernails were strangely grey, and his face expressionless as he turned a page.

He looked up from his book, noticing her staring. "What are you looking at?"

'What book are you reading?' Orthosi asked back, not wanting to admit that she'd been staring at the abnormal colouring of his lips and fingernails.

'It's nothing,' the boy replied grumpily, looking back down at the pages.

Orthosi tilted her head to read the script that glistened on the rim of the cover. A Sleep to End All Dreams, it read.

'You like philosophy?' she asked. A Sleep to End All Dreams was a story that spoke about the fear wizards had of death.

'I guess,' the boy mumbled. 'Now quit asking me questions.' The boy stared back down at the book's yellowed pages. 'Everyone dies, what's so philosophical about it,' she heard him add quietly.

Orthosi glared at him in annoyance before walking over to the windows that looked out into the lake. She watched the fish as they darted through the seaweed, chasing each other. Well, that makes three odd conversations in one afternoon, she thought, annoyed. Does anyone in this house have better social skills?

Orthosi strolled around the common room a bit more. The only people of Orthosi's year left chatting in the common room were Draco and his friends Vincent and Gregory. Somehow, she thought a conversation with the arrogant trio would be more painful than social. So, she sat down and began working on her book again.

It was then that a tall boy strolled into the room. Orthosi wouldn't have noticed him ordinarily, but the very air of the room changed in an instant. As the boy walked into the room, the older students edged away from his presence. Draco looked up for an instant, but apparently dismissed the odd behaviour and went back to chatting.

Orthosi however continued to pay more attention. The boy, though perhaps a little less than handsome, didn't appear to be terribly different from anyone else. Still, the older students hung back, their eyes occasionally flicking to watch him as he wandered over to the windows and appeared to watch the fish.

Orthosi continued to study her house peers, partially boiling with frustration, but also partially intrigued. Yleni had a scar that she wouldn't explain how she obtained. Alilva had just got up and left the conversation at the mention of normal wizarding subjects. The boy in the chair with grey lips and nails had made dismissive comments about death. And finally the tall boy who had just sauntered into the room. All these people. They all had secrets.

She looked to a grandfather clock that stood in a corner of the room, its silver hands ticking inside an ebony wood casing.

It was time to head to their first Flying lesson. Orthosi carried with her a leather satchel as she exited the common room, along with most of the Slytherin first-years. She could hear Draco at the head of the group, bragging about his skill on the broom.

Orthosi determined then, in the shadowy corridors of the dungeon, that she would discover their secrets. She would piece together the puzzles that lay before her in the Slytherin common room. She determined that she would come to understand these people, and become a part of them.

The next day, David watched once more in awe as delivery owls swooped down upon the tables in the Great Hall, handing students parcels, letters and newspapers. He was surprised when a brown owl dove down and landed before him, dropping a letter into his hand.

He looked over at Revem, who was driving Jothon crazy with his mispronunciation of famous wizards' last names.

David opened his letter and began to read. Dear Murie, Cormag, Iseabail, and David. We hope Hogwarts is finding you well, and we want you to know we love you all. We hope you are earning good grades and making friends.

But we must tell you the heartbreaking news before you return home for the holidays. Discovering it then would heavy your hearts during Christmas. We've searched everywhere, even up to right outside Hogwarts, but Grant is missing.

David's eyes widened in shock.

We're so dreadfully sorry. We'll keep looking, but with the Forbidden Forest so nearby, we can't raise our hopes that Grant is completely safe.

Have a good time at Hogwarts, Your Mum, Dad, Aunt, and Uncle (relations dependent on who is currently reading this letter)

David glanced blankly down at the letter. Grant. He had known Grant for as long as he could remember. He had taken Grant for walks around old ruins, ridden the tame highland cow when he was a kid, and washed him in the hideout when it was too hot to galavant outside. Happy memories flooded through David, turned cold and dark by the realisation that Grant was missing.

'Are you okay?' Revem asked, turning towards David.

'Yeah,' David lied. 'I've got ta go talk t'someone.' He slid off the bench of the Ravenclaw table. He wondered which one of his family to tell first. Murie was still talking to her friends at the end of the Ravenclaw table, her copy of the letter untouched.

David wandered through the tables. Cormag, although he might be upset by Grant disappearing, would certainly not want to talk about it and would pretend it didn't bother him at all. 'It's jus' eh pet,' David could hear Cormag's voice already.

Iseabail would need the most consolation. Afterall, she was the one who had been worried about Grant. Whit am I going ta say ta her? David wondered. Grant disappearing may be her worst fear! An' I didn't pay her any heed back at home. Why didn't I jus' consider her worry for eh moment, back at th' hideout?

David received several confused looks as he wandered down the Hufflepuff table, looking for his cousin. He spotted her, chatting with friends, her letter opened and turned onto its back besides her.

She must be trying ta hide her sorrow, David thought miserably, striding up to the table. 'Iseabail.'

His blond-headed cousin turned her head. 'Whit is it, David?'

'I'm so sorry aboot how I didn't listen ta ye at th' hideout, aboot Grant 'at is. Ye were right ta be so worried, Iseabail. Now 'at Grant is missing, I promise I will listen ta ye more in th' future.' David looked up at Iseabail, putting on his most honest look of grief. 'I'm sorry for yer loss. I'll miss Grant too, but I know ye'll miss him most.'

The girl's face was frozen for a moment, but then she frowned and said, 'Oh, yes. It's horrible, isn't it? I can hardly bear ta think o' th' trouble Grant must have gotten himself into. Thank ye.' Then she turned and began chattering away with the other Hufflepuff second-years.

'Oh, okay,' David said, walking slowly back to the Ravenclaw table. Bewilderment bubbled in his mind like a potion with missing ingredients. He had thought, what with all of Iseabail's concern at the hideout, that she would be destroyed over Grant. But the way she addressed David just now, it sounded as if she didn't care at all.

Maybe she's also jus' trying ta hide her emotions? David thought, doubtingly. It was a very un-Iseabail possibility. But it was either that, or she didn't care about Grant at all. David slumped back down onto the Ravenclaw bench, pondering his cousin's easy dismissal of Grant's disappearance.

At the Slytherin table, Orthosi studied the two pieces of parchment in front of her. She dreaded reading them and stuffed them into her bag. She already knew what they would say anyway. What was the point?

The Slytherins had not changed any since her time in the common room yesterday. They were all still keeping secrets, and had barely gotten over the shock of the competition between Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy at Flying class.

And, it appeared, Slytherins were more forgiving to each other on the outside than in.

Draco had been given the cold shoulder by the rest of the Slytherins for about a day, and Yleni had been deducted ten points on Friday for being half an hour late to Transfiguration. The Slytherins hadn't even talked to her for the rest of the day. Orthosi was afraid how she'd be treated when she slipped up.

'Orthosi, did you get any mail?' Yleni asked across the table.

Well, Orthosi thought. Almost all the Slytherins didn't talk to her. Othosoi had been the only one to acknowledge her. 'Yes. Just a letter from my mum and a newspaper clipping.' She couldn't help but finger the pieces of parchment inside her bag.

Students were beginning to trickle out of the Great Hall. Orthosi stood up, and began to follow the Slytherin first-years back to the common room for a short period of rest before History of Magic when her older brother strode up to her. The Gryffindor received several disdaining glances from Orthosi's dorm members.

'Orthosi,' Leo said, his face stern. 'Mum is starting to get suspicious. She says she's sent you five letters so far and you haven't answered any of them.'

Orthosi hardened her glare and yet again fingered the edge of the letter she'd received that morning. 'And so what if I haven't? Does mum need to know everything about me?'

'You're just trying to avoid telling her your house,' Leo accused. 'She's now asking me what house you've gotten in.'

'Then lie!' Orthosi said, frustration pulling at her. 'I mean, she'd believe I was in Ravenclaw, and how else would she find out?'

Leo's unconvinced expression poured down on his younger sister.

'Please,' Orthosi begged.

'It's hopeless to hide it,' Leo said. 'I'm sending mum a letter this Wednesday. If you don't want this situation to look any worse, I suggest you write her a letter tonight. I'm not trying to threaten you, but I'm not going to lie to mum and keeping your house a secret is ridiculous.'

Orthosi clenched her fists. She wanted Leo to be wrong. But he wasn't. It would be impossible to keep Orthosi's house a secret. The Gryffindor third-year left the Great Hall, Orthosi fuming in frustration.

She turned around to see a mess of food on the floor by the Hufflepuff table. Maria was picking up bits of food with her napkin and putting them back onto her plate, her wand forgotten on the bench. David was beside her, levitating tiny pieces of food onto the table.

Orthosi strolled over.

'Hello, Orthosi,' David greeted.

'Let me help,' Orthosi said, pulling out her wand. 'Regio supernatet.' The food lifted from the floor and piled itself onto the Hufflepuff house table.

'Woah,' Maria said. 'How did you do that?'

'Even ma older sister couldn't clean something 'at fast!' David muttered.

'It's just a cleaning spell,' Orthosi said dismissively. I've used it plenty of times before when mum has punished me to clean the St. Mungo's kitchens. She looked to David and Maria's amazed glances. People are so impressionable. I wouldn't be awed by a cleaning spell, even if it cleaned the whole Ministry of Magic.

'Glad to help,' Orthosi said. 'I assume you two have classes to attend. See you tonight at book club.' Orthosi strode out the door, beginning to pull the letter and newspaper cutting from her bag.

They had read three chapters so far for the book club. In chapter three, which Orthosi had read over the weekend, the brothers had duelled against a man with 'robes as black as night.' Orthosi knew the character was going to be Death, though she assumed she'd be in the minority when this was revealed.

Orthosi stopped, leaned against a wall, and held the pieces of parchment her mother had sent in front of her. The letter was what she had expected: her mum peppering her with questions. But the newspaper cutting was intriguing.

Recently, Healer Ogast Marrow has investigated the pollution of several lakes. Every one of them, strangely, has been located near or in a community of non-wizard magic beings, such as the goblin hamlet Runbourne and the suspected vampire coven at Swadlincote. The results of this pollution have been minimal, but alarming. Entire communities have fallen ill to the poisons detected in the lakes.

Several casualties have been reported, though the victims were elderly. The rest of the communities have recovered from any sickness in a timely manner.

Marrow says that he and his researchers are pursuing the cause, but the search is proceeding slowly. The poison seems to affect non-wizard magic beings only, and also excludes Muggles. Until new evidence shows itself, the cause of these events remains a mystery.

Orthosi found the article interesting, but not of much use to her. She had more relevant problems to worry about than poisoned lakes. She was supposed to devote herself to schoolwork right now; what would make her mother think she cared about mysterious poisonings? Oddly, her mother hadn't even mentioned the reason for sending the clipping in her letter.

Orthosi sighed, then headed to the Slytherin common room to write a reluctant letter to her mum.