Chapter Text
King’s Cross Station, London, England
Ron didn’t know what to think about all the muggles staring at them. At least most of their looks were aimed at Percy’s new owl and not at him, but they were still staring at his entire family as if they were all insane.
Fred and George were grinning maniacally, talking with stars in their eyes about all the things they could buy at Zonko’s now that they had permission to go to Hogsmeade. Mum and Ginny were walking beside him, just behind the twins, their mother wrapping an encouraging/reassuring arm around Ron’s shoulders. Percy was walking slightly ahead of the group, back straight and wearing his prefect’s badge proudly.
Personally, Ron thought Percy was being a bit of a prat about it, but if it were him he’d probably be acting the same. Being a prefect meant having power over the rest of the student body. It meant being better than them. It was sort of cool, even if the twins disagreed.
“It’s like they’ve never seen an owl before, honestly” Mum was huffing, giving several muggles stern looks until they turned away, abashed.
“They don’t use ‘em, Mum. The muggleborns react the same way the first time they see the post arriving” George said, over his shoulder.
“Might not even know what they are.” Fred added.
“Maybe we should start getting onto the platform by floo...” She looked thoughtful but then shook her head, smiling warmly at Ron, “ah, but this way is much more fun, dear. Always got quite the adrenaline rush whenever I went the muggle way when I was young”
“I thought Grandma and Grandpa thought the muggle way was stupid?” Ginny piped up from where she was walking on the other side of Mum, holding her hand.
“Well, yes, they did, but they let me do it anyway after asking a couple of times.” Mum laughed. Sometimes Ron couldn’t tell which parent Fred and George got their mischievousness from- Dad, who was currently tinkering with some muggle ‘car’ at home and enchanting it, or Mum- who seemed to have done whatever she wanted when she was younger without care for consequences. Charlie had also inherited a bit of Weasley chaos, but it only really came out on the quidditch pitch, mostly just manifesting in good-natured teasing directed at everyone the rest of the time. Bill and Percy were much more serious, though Bill was cool and stoic about it and Percy was just stifling.
If anything, Ron wanted to be a cross between Bill and Charlie, cool and unbothered but also funny, but he knew he was just awkward. Ginny was the same, though she was like that in the shy, blushing girl way while he just said stupid things and didn’t know how to not make a prat of himself. He hoped being in Hogwarts, having a chance to befriend kids like him, would change all that.
“They thought it dangerous, actually. ‘Packed with muggles!’, of course it is, it’s King’s Cross” Mum sighed. “All for muggle protection but absolutely terrified by the lot of them, honestly”
Ron had never met his grandparents on his mother’s side before they passed, and had never spoken to a muggle, so he wouldn’t know. They looked harmless enough, if not slightly too open to blatantly staring at people. Hermes let out an indignant hoot up ahead.
“Now, what’s the platform number?” She asked Ron, testing his memory. As if he hadn’t walked five of his brothers to it before.
Annoyingly, Ginny yipped out “Nine and three-quarters!” before he could get a word in. “Mum, can’t I go…”
“You’re not old enough, Ginny, now be quiet” He felt horrible about it, but Ron couldn’t help but smirk at his sister’s deflating face. He was old enough for Hogwarts now, after all. Take that , Gin. He leaned back, sticking his tongue out at his sister from behind their mother- so she couldn’t see it happening. Ginny made an outraged sound, and Mum lightly smacked the back of Ron’s head, tutting with exasperation. “Behave yourself, Ronald, or you’re going straight back home”
They had all stopped at the wall between platform 9 and 10, trolleys banging against each other. It felt a little strange not to have Charlie with them, but he had left to study dragons in Romania the moment he’d received his NEWTs. It had felt the same when Bill had left too.
“Alright Perce, you go first” Percy huffed, before parading through the gateway to the station, vanishing before them all.
“Fred, you next”
“I’m not Fred, I’m George” said Fred, looking affronted. “Honestly woman, call yourself our mother? Can’t you tell I’m George?”
Ron grinned at the antics, “Sorry, George dear” Mum said.
“Only joking, I am Fred” he laughed, making a runner through the wall before Mum could scold him, George following close behind.
Ron was quietly snickering, so he jumped a bit when a quiet voice behind them said: “Excuse me”
“Hullo, dear” Mum said as they turned around to face a brown boy with a cascade of messy hair falling around his face. He had large, round glasses and wore clothes far too big for his size, skinny frame that he had. There was a quiet determination in his surprisingly bright green eyes. A flash of something crossed his mother’s face before she asked: “First time at Hogwarts dear? Ron’s new too”
“Yes. The thing is, I don’t know how to…” the boy trailed off, looking at the wall Ron’s brothers had gone through.
“How to get on the platform?” Mum finished off his sentence, receiving a nod from the boy. “‘Not to worry, all you have to do is walk straight at the barrier between platforms nine and ten. Don’t stop and don’t be scared you’ll crash into it, that’s very important. Best do it at a bit of a run if you’re nervous. Go on, go now before Ron”
“Er- Ok” He said, and off he went, running through the barrier with an uncertain jog. Was he muggleborn, maybe? Where was his family?
“Come on now Ron, before we’re late” Mum ushered him with a shoo -ing motion.
He sighed before he too ran through the barrier, the familiar rush of magic sliding by him as he entered Platform 9 ¾. He allowed himself to look around in awe- it never got old to see the station- before being banged into by his mother and sister.
“Ron!” Mum snapped, hugging him tearfully at the same time and really not giving Ron a moment to figure out how to respond. Apparently they really had taken too long, as Mum didn’t have the time to say goodbye to the rest of her sons and could only wave enthusiastically at them through the window. She pulled out a handkerchief and dabbed the corners of her eyes. “Don’t just stand about, put your things on the train!”
He nodded, tightening the hug for a moment before rushing on board just as the train began to let out large quantities of steam.
The first few carriages were all full as he passed them by, panic settling into his gut as more and more compartments seemed to be filled to the brim with people. He passed by his brothers and their friends by the middle of the train, one of their good mates- Lee- cackling as the twins ran away from a box of what looked like the biggest spider in the world, making Ron speed walk past them before they could get any ideas.
He found the emptiest compartment he could- the boy from earlier seemed to be hogging one for himself, the train was only so big- and resigned to the fate of having to talk to the quiet boy for the whole journey.
“Anyone sitting here?” He asked him as he slid the door open. The boy jumped a bit in surprise before shaking his head. “Everywhere else is full”
He sat across from him, trying to wrestle Scabbers, who had started writhing like he’d gotten rabies, into calming down. He’d been carrying him in his arms the whole time, and now he begins acting up, honestly…
“Hey Ron” The compartment door slid open to reveal Fred and George “Listen, we’re going down the middle of the train- Lee’s got a giant tarantula down there”
“Right,” Ron muttered, looking at them darkly. If they brought that horrid thing over he would hex the daylight out of them. It didn’t matter if he didn’t really know any spells, he could improvise.
“Harry,” George addressed the other boy, “Did we introduce ourselves? Fred and George Weasley. See you later, then.”
Ron stared at them as they shut the door, “That was weird” he said to the boy- Harry, “They just came in to tell me about the spider and say hello to you? And then left immediately?”
“Met them earlier, they helped me move my trunk” Harry shrugged, apparently not caring for it. “People have been weird around me recently. Guess I should just get used to it”
Ron gave him a funny look, “What do you mean? Ron Weasley, by the way”
“Harry Potter,” the boy replied. Ron’s eyes almost popped out of his head. “Yeah, you’re not the first to react like that” He said, clearly unsure what to think of it.
Instantly, Ron’s eyes flickered towards his forehead, and lo and behold, the infamous lightning scar. He hadn’t seen it under Potter’s mess of a fringe earlier. “Wicked! You were raised by muggles weren’t you? That’s why you didn’t know how to go through the barrier, right?”
Harry nodded, “Didn’t know I was famous in this world”
“Really?” Ron said, honestly surprised. How do you live eleven years of your life not knowing that for ten of them you were a household name? “That’s weird, why not?”
“My uncle and aunt didn’t tell me anything” He said with another shrug, though there was a look in his eye that told Ron he cared rather a lot about being left in the dark. “Basically a ‘muggle’ when it comes to all of this”
Well if there was something less right in the world, “I’ll help you out” Ron said resolutely. “You’re the Potter heir, technically lord, you need to know your stuff”
Harry looked at him curiously, “Are you the Weasley heir, then?” he said ‘heir’ as one would say a newly learnt word in a foreign language.
Ron, “Nah, the heir is the eldest child. Male one, that is”
Harry, “So, your other brother- not one of the twins- is the heir?”
Ron laughed, “Percy acts like it, doesn’t he? No, that would be Bill. My family isn’t that into all that heir crap anyways. My dad says it’s all blood elitist rubbish”
“Are all your family wizards?” Harry asked, still having not lost that interested gleam in his eye.
“Er- yes, I think so,” he replied “I think Mum’s got a second cousin who’s an accountant, but we never talk about him.”
“So you must know loads of magic already,” Harry leant forward, “Can you show me some?”
Ron, deciding it was his moment to shine, pointed his wand at Scabbers, who had finally calmed down “ Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow, turn this stupid fat rat yellow !”
The silence in the compartment was deafening.
“Knew I shouldn’t have trusted Fred and George…” Ron muttered, face bright pink.
They were saved from the awkwardness by the trolley lady showing up. Harry pulled out a bag filled with gold and bought at least two of everything. What surprised Ron was Harry then asking to share his sweets with him.
“You don’t have to” Ron protested, despite eyeing up the pumpkin pasty in Harry’s hand with an undeniable hunger. He pulled out his sandwich Mum had made for him, staring glumly at it before he registered Harry looking at him. Mum always forgot he hated corned beef.
“I want to” Harry insisted, the knowing glint in his eye making Ron furiously fight back a blush.
‘Don’t ever accept charity, Ronald,’ Mum had said to him in the time before Dad got promoted. It had been before the food they did have on the table was quite enough to feed seven hungry mouths. Things were changing now, thankfully, with Dad working overtime and Bill and Charlie out of the house and not adding to the strain, but everyone in the family could still feel it, remembering the ache of not having enough . It was difficult to move on from things like that. ‘It comes from pity’
Nowadays, Mum wouldn’t let any of them leave the dinner table without an adequately filled stomach, putting her heart into her food. It was better now.
Ron thoroughly devoured his disgusting (Scabbers had nibbled some of it) sandwich, but Harry still had his hand out in an offering of a packet of ‘Bertie Bott’s Every Flavoured Beans’, some cauldron cakes and a pumpkin pasty, all perilously balanced. He looked up at the boy, uncertain, and was met with a reassuring smile. It was small, shy, but it was enough to convince Ron that it was okay.
They were making a fine effort between them to finish off the absurd amount of sweets- Ron had a right laugh when Harry discovered what Dumbledore looked like through a chocolate frog card - when the compartment door opened to reveal a snivelling blond boy with freckles on his nose and a determined looking black girl whose hair was impressively voluminous if not a bit under-attended. She already had the Hogwarts robes on, but didn’t have a tie or a jumper with a house emblem on, so Ron figured she was in their year.
“Has anyone seen a toad? Neville’s lost one” She said with a curt nod aimed toward the boy. She sighed as they shook their heads, Neville wailing.
“He keeps getting away from me!” He said miserably.
“He’ll turn up,” Harry said kindly.
Ron looked down at Scabbers, sneering. “Wouldn’t be upset if I lost you ” he said to him, a little venomously. “I tried to turn him yellow to make him more interesting, but the spell didn’t work” he told Neville and the girl.
“What was the spell for that?” The girl asked. She had the same curious expression that Harry had had when asking about the wizarding world earlier. “Can you tell me?”
“Uh,” Ron was caught off guard, giving Harry an alarmed sidelong look. Harry just smirked at him. “Can’t remember. Just copied what my brother had told me”
“You have a magical family? Neville does too” The girl said. “No one in my family’s magic, though I really wish they were. It’s all just so fascinating . It was ever such a surprise when I got my letter, but I was ever so pleased, of course, I mean, it’s the very best school of witchcraft there is, I’ve heard- I’ve learnt all our set books off by heart, of course, I just hope it will be enough- I’m Hermione Granger, by the way, who are you?”
“I’m Ron Weasley,” Ron snorted at the maniacal look in her eye. “You’ll be Ravenclaw, then?”
She and Harry stared at him in confusion. Neville looked up in surprise, saying: “You’re a Weasley?”
Ron nodded, and the boy fumbled into the carriage and offered him his hand, “Heir Neville Longbottom, well met” he said with a slight shake in his voice.
“Well met, Heir Longbottom” Ron shook his hand, before turning to look at Granger and Harry, “Ravenclaw is one of the houses of Hogwarts. It’s where the tryhards go. Longbottom-” he gestured towards Harry, “-this is Heir Potter”
“ Harry Potter ?” Longbottom gawped, before nervously, much more nervously than he had Ron, turning towards him and offering his hand, “W-well met”
Granger was looking at this exchange with adamant interest. Harry looked surprised, before he cautiously shook Longbottom’s hand. Looking uncertainly at Ron, he said: “Well met?”
Ron nodded at him, and that cleared away Harry’s wariness, looking considerably more confident as he released their hands. Turning to Granger, Ron explained: “There are four Hogwarts houses, Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Huffle-”
Granger snapped her fingers, “Hufflepuff and Slytherin! Yes I remember, I read that in Hogwarts, A History . Each student goes to whichever house has the values that fit them the most!”
“What are those values?” Harry asked as Ron glared, irritated, at Granger, who failed to notice him.
Granger seemed pleased to have a reason to talk, it seemed, “Hufflepuff values being loyal and hard-working, Gryffindor- courage and chivalry, Ravenclaw- intelligence and wit, and Slytherin- cunning and ambition”
Ron pulled a face, “Slytherins are all slimy gits if you ask me”
Granger frowned, “That sounds a bit unfair, not all of them are. I know they have a reputation for being a bit nasty and all, but there were plenty of decent ones. Merlin, for example.”
“And there hasn’t been a good one since him” Ron huffed.
Granger turned her head to shout out into the corridor, “Vivienne?”
A moment later a girl showed up to the compartment door, and, to Ron’s despair, she was wearing the Slytherin uniform, “Yes, Hermione?”
“Vivienne here has been helping out with trying to find Neville’s toad” Granger said, pointedly looking at Ron, “Not exactly the epitome of evildom, is she Weasley?”
“Wouldn’t say that too quickly” Vivienne winked at her before turning to Ron, “Another Weasley? I know your brothers, the twins. Vivienne Thornton, well met”
“Well met” He replied, a little stiffly. ‘ Another Weasley?’ was echoing in his head a bit . “Awfully nice of you, helping out Longbottom”
Thornton shrugged easily, “Well, Hermione asked, so”
Ron eyed her suspiciously, “Even though she’s muggleborn?”
Granger looked incredulous whereas Thornton rolled her eyes, “My brother’s muggleborn. Through our dad,” She explained at Ron’s confused look, “different mothers, mine’s a witch”
“Oh, well then obviously-”
“I’m not a bigoted ‘blood purist’ and I’m a Slytherin, Weasley, they are not in spite of one another” She said sharply. Ron blinked in surprise. He’d never thought of that being possible, which, now he was considering Thornton’s words, was bizarre. In his defence, it had kind of been drilled into his head that Slytherins were no good from a rather young age, his parents and then his siblings all holding a clear disdain for the snakes. Maybe less so the twins, but that was because they had a friend there who helped them out with pranks sometimes. Thinking of that…
“Are you the girl who helped Fred and George rob Filch’s office last year?”
“ What?” Granger exclaimed.
The girl laughed, “Not that anyone else knows it, so I’d rather you all keep that to yourselves” Thornton said sunnily, with too many teeth to her smile. Ron understood it as a threat, as had Harry and Granger, all narrowing their eyes. Longbottom just nodded, still looking around their compartment as if the toad would turn out to have been sitting on one of the seats this whole time.
“They seemed to like you quite a lot after that. Especially Fred.” Ron waggled his eyebrows a bit to get the message across. He was actually just throwing them under the Knight Bus because the atmosphere was getting a bit tense, but they deserved a taste of their own medicine from time to time. Ron hoped they wouldn’t retaliate with Lee’s tarantula.
“Oh?” Thornton smirked, “Thank you for telling me Weasley. Now that you mention it, I think I’ll go see them, chat for a bit. I’ll of course continue to keep an eye out for your toad, Neville”
As she slinked away, Granger said to Ron: “Rather cunning of you, Weasley”
He froze, then shook his head, “Thought you just said Slytherin wasn’t all bad?”
“Yes, but that’s not what you said.” She paused, clearly thinking about something. “Personally, I think Gryffindor is the best fit for me”
“Gryffindor? I think you fit Ravenclaw the most” Harry spoke up. “You’ve got the intelligence and wit thing down to the dot”
“Yeah,” Ron nodded in agreement.
“I thought you said that Ravenclaws were all ‘tryhards’?” Granger said, looking uncertain.
“Well, they are, but tryhards tend to do well in life so it’s not that deep of an insult” Ron said with a shrug. Granger lit up at that. “I’ll probably be Gryffindor, though, my whole family has been”
Longbottom said, rather concerningly, “So has mine, but I reckon I’ll turn out to be Hufflepuff or something. I don’t know how much family matters to the Sorting Hat”
On that note, Granger and Longbottom left them to continue looking for the toad, going the way Thornton had left.
Ron frowned, “I don’t know how my family would react if I turned out Hufflepuff or Slytherin”
Harry cocked his head, “What about Ravenclaw?”
That made the redhead laugh, “Not a chance! Fred and George would make Dumbledore replace the Sorting Hat with something else because if I went to Ravenclaw then it is clearly faulty. Where do you think you’ll go?”
Yet another shrug from Harry, “I have no idea. I don’t think I’m particularly anything”
“You’ll probably be in Gryffindor too. Your family were” Ron pointed out.
“Nothing is set in stone”
Their compartment was opened again , this time revealing a haughty looking blond- almost white- haired boy with two rather large boys on either side of him, making them look like bodyguards.
“Is it true?” he said. “They’re saying all down the train that Harry Potter’s in this compartment. So it’s you, is it?”
“Yes” Harry said, looking between the bodyguards apprehensively.
“Oh, this is Crabbe and this is Goyle,” said the blond carelessly, noticing where Harry was staring. ‘And my name’s Malfoy, Draco Malfoy”
Ron couldn’t help it. Really, he couldn’t. Draco ? He probably couldn’t talk, being named Ronald, but to say such a cringe name so proudly? He couldn’t hold back a snicker, which he poorly tried to disguise as a cough.
In an instant, Malfoy’s eyes were on him, a sneer on his face, “‘Think my name’s funny, do you? No need to ask who you are. My father told me all the Weasleys have red hair and more children than they can afford”
His humour shrivelled away immediately, and now Ron was seconds away from beating Malfoy’s face in. He had five brothers, he knew how to fight. Crabbe and Goyle would probably snap him in half if he tried though, he realised, eyeing them up as he scowled.
“You’ll soon find out some wizarding families are much better than others, Heir Potter. You don’t want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there” Malfoy said to Harry, holding out a hand.
Harry didn’t take it, expression cool, “I think I can tell who the wrong sort are for myself, thanks.”
Ron laughed cruelly at Malfoy’s face, whose blush was extremely noticeable on his pale skin.
“I’d be careful if I were you, Potter-”
“Threatening him now, are you?” Ron interrupted, delighted at the fury that painted Malfoy’s face as he did so. “Thought you wanted to be his fwiend ”
Harry snorted, which combined with Ron’s mocking of him, made Malfoy take an angry step forward into the compartment. One of his goons- Goyle maybe- took this as the opportune moment to try and nab one of the chocolate frogs. Which, obviously, Ron couldn’t allow. He lept after it, but before he even made contact the boy let out a screech.
Scabbers was hanging off his finger, sharp teeth sunk deep into Goyle’s knuckle- Crabbe and Malfoy backed away as Goyle swung Scabbers round and round, howling, and when Scabbers finally flew off and hit the window, all three of them disappeared at once.
“Scabbers!” Ron exclaimed as Harry shut the compartment door, glaring out of the window darkly. He picked him up from where he lay on the floor and patted his head. “You’ve proven yourself to me, mate. Not so useless after all!”
“Not a lot of love for him?” Harry asked.
“He was Percy’s before he got that owl” Ron shrugged. Harry shrugged back. Shrugging seemed to have become a gesture they were familiar with throwing at one another. Ron didn’t think either of them were going to end up in Ravenclaw. Harry stood a higher chance, but only marginally.
The compartment door opened again . Ron threw his hands up in the air, snapping an agitated “ What? ” towards Granger.
“What has been going on?” She demanded.
Ron elected to ignore her in favour of checking on his rat. “‘I think he’s been knocked out- no- I don’t believe it- he’s gone back to sleep!”
Harry turned to Granger, “Can we help you with something?”
“‘You’d better hurry up and put your robes on, I’ve just been up the front to ask the driver and he says we’re nearly there. You haven’t been fighting, have you? You’ll be in trouble before we even get there!” She frowned, looking down the corridor where Malfoy and his bodyguards had run away from them.
“Scabbers has been fighting, not us” said Ron, scowling at her. She looked at him with confusion, before jolting when she saw his rat. “Would you mind leaving while we change?”
Her cheeks darkened as she blushed, nodding before slamming the door shut. Then she opened it again to tartly tell him: “You’ve got dirt on your nose”
It was Ron’s turn to blush, glaring at Harry, who hadn’t told him this entire time, as she left. He just smirked at him as he furiously rubbed at his face.
“People have come to bother us four times, ” Ron grumbled.
“I think if you stick around me it’s going to happen a lot” Harry said, then his amused look faltered for a moment “You are going to stick around..?”
Ron nodded. Harry was his first Hogwarts friend, after all. “Of course, mate”
And so that was that.
—
The Great Hall fell silent as McGonagall led the first-years inside, all starry-eyed and nervous as they followed her closely. Mouths were wide open like fish at the sight of the open night sky peaking through the hundreds of floating candles, emitting a warm glow that reached every corner of the room.
Even Blaise allowed himself to look a little impressed at Hogwarts’ magic. But not too much. It was made rather obvious who the muggle-borns were, as they looked as though they had stepped into heaven itself in their slack-jawness. The more pure of blood, including Blaise, had their eyes focused on something else.
Harry Potter was in their year, apparently ignoring the stares he was receiving not only from a large majority of the first-years, but the entirety of the school in a display of magnificent nonchalance and/or obliviousness. He was just as taken by the magical scenery as the muggleborns, by the look of things.
He knew several people in this crowd he was in, either personally or just being aware of his fellow purebloods. Pansy and Ernie he knew quite well, and he had heard of the majority of the people related to the Sacred Twenty-Eight, and while his mother and him were not considered a part of it they had very close ties with many of them, unlike certain red-headed individuals he could see sitting at the Gryffindor table. While still technically being a part of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, no less.
They were all facing the headmaster, Dumbledore, now, as he droned on about welcoming back past students and welcoming the new. Blaise was rather getting tired of standing, and if the sorting was going to be alphabetical…he’d better make a conscious effort to walk away from the hat without making the soon-to-be numbness of his legs known.
“Abbott, Hannah” Abbott looked nothing short from terrified, shuffling her way forward to sit on the rather dank stool facing the school. Blaise was entirely unsurprised when the dusty old hat yelled out ‘HUFFLEPUFF!’ moments later.
“Goldstein, Anthony” “RAVENCLAW!”
“Goyle, Gregory” “SLYTHERIN!”
“Granger, Hermione” “RAVENCLAW” Blaise found that he had expected as much. The girl would fit right in, as he was sure she was the one he had heard quoting ‘Hogwarts: A History’ for the entire Sorting so far.
“Greengrass, Daphne” “SLYTHERIN!”
“Li, Su” “RAVENCLAW!”
“Longbottom, Neville” “GRYFFINDOR!” A ridiculous placement, Blaise thought, as he watched Longbottom almost walk away with the Sorting Hat still on his head. The boy blushed red as he had to run back to give it to the girl who’s name was called up next.
“MacDougal, Morag” “RAVENCLAW!”
“Macmillan, Ernest” “HUFFLEPUFF!” Ah, Ernie. They had been forced to be playmates when their mothers had tea together when they were young. Blaise was somewhat expecting Ravenclaw from the boy, but in all fairness he had come from a long lineage of Hufflepuffs so it wasn’t too outrageous. Blaise inspected his nails, overcome with boredom at this point.
“Malfoy, Draco” “SLYTHERIN” His slicked-back hair disturbed slightly by the moving hat, he cheerfully made his way to the table. The hat had barely even grazed him before yelling out his answer. Typical of a Malfoy, Blaise presumed.
“Moon, Lilian” “HUFFLEPUFF!”
“Nott, Theodore” “SLYTHERIN!”
“Parkinson, Pansy” “SLYTHERIN!” No surprises there. They caught each other’s eyes and smirked.
“Patil, Padma” “RAVENCLAW!”
“Patil, Parvati” “GRYFFINDOR!” The hall seemed to react to the separation of girls who were probably twins, but it was muted as the tension grew as McGonagall read further down the list of surnames beginning with ‘P’.
“Potter, Harry” Everyone seemed to hold their breaths as a brown boy with messy black hair strolled towards the hat, jumping a little when it presumably spoke to him. Perhaps he had not been told about the Sorting? It was said that he’d been raised by muggle relatives, but they must’ve known at least a thing or two about Hogwarts before sending him off, right? If Blaise’s mother wasn’t presented with every detail of a place she sends off her son then he wasn’t going, simple as. Maybe he was reading into the movement too much.
…
Merlin, he was taking his time over there, though. Blaise glanced around at the seven other people left waiting to be assigned a house and finally have some dinner, making a note of them. There were four other boys and three other girls, all, apart from a black boy Blaise assumed was Muggleborn, looking at Potter as if he had descended from the heavens themselves for this moment. A ginger was particularly enraptured in staring at (in Blaise’s honest opinion) the most boring thing to ever happen, ever. Maybe it was because Potter’s fame was somewhat less revered in Italy, the boy not truly achieving celebrity status there rather than renown urban legend, or maybe it was because Blaise had spent nearly forty minutes standing up- with no end in sight- but he really could not see the appeal in staring at the boy.
Honestly, Blaise was seconds away from setting the hat ablaze when it bellowed out: “SLYTHERIN!”
About half of the Slytherin table erupted into applause, but the rest of the school just looked gobsmacked. Potter himself didn’t look as though he particularly cared for the stares, simply shrugging and giving a slightly judgemental frown at the gaping mouths he was being presented before heading off to the green-clad table.
Blaise was impressed with the display of nonchalance, almost on par with his own. The muggleborn-to-be-sorted (?) appeared to be a little confused at this reaction from the hall. Blaise felt slightly disheartened to see that even the majority of the teachers shared similar expressions with the student body. Surely it was inappropriate to be so blatantly partial towards the houses at the school they worked at? His mother really should’ve sent Blaise to an Italian school if that were the case.
“His entire family was sorted into Gryffindor” he supplied him helpfully. Normally he would be content to allow the muggleborn’s confusion to stew, but he was about to fall asleep standing at the rate things were going.
The muggleborn looked baffled, “Why does it matter so much? Is there a wrong house to be in?”
Blaise shrugged. His British friends had explained the concept of the Hogwarts houses, as had his English grandfather, but it frankly didn’t make much sense to him either. “Slytherin’s got a bad rep”
The muggleborn’s confusion seems to rise still, “But there were loads of Slytherins called out before him? No one reacted like that to them”
Blaise didn’t respond as McGonagall, looking a little dejected, resumed calling out the names from her list: “Rivers, Oliver”
The hat looked far too pleased with itself as it cried out “HUFFLEPUFF!” After a mere half minute of consideration. Rivers looked like he wanted to cry, shooting a teary look towards the teachers’ table before trudging to his house. Blaise would’ve reacted the same, honestly. Hufflepuff was a bit lame.
Thankfully, the next five students were all sorted quickly enough too (one Hufflepuff, one Ravenclaw, and three Gryffindors, one of which was the muggleborn), until it was only Blaise and the ginger boy who had been mouthing words to, remarkably, the sitting Potter, since his Sorting. He appeared quite distressed at first, but was now restraining a laugh at whatever the celebrity had responded with. The ginger was receiving a rather nasty glare from Malfoy, which also meant that the two ogres that seemed to have accompanied him were doing the same. Curious.
“Weasley, Ronald” Nevermind. Blaise was as aware of the Malfoy-vs-Weasley feud as anyone else.
He was actually looking forward to seeing how the blond fared against the other Weasleys currently in the castle. Blaise was hoping for a 4v1 fist fight to come up at some point.
Weasley looked a little caught off guard, his mouthed conversation with Potter interrupted, before trudging wearily towards the Sorting Hat.
…Only to proceed to take just as long as Potter had! Blaise was sure his irritation must be showing on his face now, because this was unbelievable.
Hurry up and go to the Gryffindor table already, Merlin .
In all fairness, Weasley seemed to be just as bewildered on how long it was taking as he was. Seriously though, this was getting selfish. There is literally one person left and then everyone can eat and get on with their night and you take your sweet time getting sorted? It’s rude.
Finally, the Sorting Hat cleared its throat(?) and bellowed: “SLYTHERIN!”
No one clapped. Not even Weasley’s brothers, who, when Blaise searched the Gryffindor table to check, looked appalled. Well, at least the boys who he thought were Weasleys, he was just looking for ginger Gryffindors if he’s honest.
The ginger Slytherin looked just as appalled as his brothers and appeared as though he was going to snatch the hat right out of McGonagall’s hand and demand a different answer. Blaise really hoped he didn’t.
Thankfully, the boy shuffled his feet away from the front of the hall and went to sit with Potter, the two of which seemed to be receiving sneers of disgust from the rest of the table.
“Zabini, Blaise”
He willed his aching leg to move forwards, grateful to finally be sitting down somewhere, even if it was a wobbly stool that had 30 other student’s residual heat.
“ Zarina Zabini’s boy, eh? ” Potter was right to jump, its voice was so croaky “ She was a very cunning one indeed, resourceful, ambitious and prideful… ”
Blaise smirked. His mother had a perfectly good reason to be prideful. Alongside her many personal achievements, she had him as her son, after all.
“ Hmm, yes, I see the resemblance clearly. Where else but SLYTHERIN!”
He wasn’t sure if he’d managed to stop the bounce in his step as he began to walk towards the Slytherin table. He’d known where he was going to be put, obviously, but with how Potter and Weasley’s sortings had turned out he’d begun wondering if he was doomed to Hufflepuff or something. It would be a cruel twist of fate, that’s for certain.
On the topic of those two, he eyed them up as he strolled leisurely down. The beginnings of an idea began to form. Like his mother, he knew when the best decision was to hang around in influential people’s shadows if it meant he too could be recognised, riding on the coattails of the attention that headed their way. Who would be receiving more attention over a Slytherin Weasley and The-Boy-Who-Lived? No one.
Now, this was one of those ideas his mother would reprimand him for, because while they were eye-catching enough that association through friendship would earn him attention enough, the attention may not be positive. The boys looked as though they would be jumped by at least ¾ of their own house.
Fortunately his mother was not here. He maintained eye contact with Weasley, winking charmingly in the way step-father #4 always had. This resulted in a bewildered look as Blaise slid into the seat beside Potter. “In case you didn’t hear, I’m Blaise Zabini. Charmed to meet you two”
“Hiya, I’m Harry.” Potter said.
“Ron Weasley,” Weasley supplied after a pause, looking at Blaise suspiciously. “Something you want?”
“Just wondering what took the both of you so long getting sorted” He responded calmly. Damn, maybe Weasley had figured out his agenda and didn’t like it. “My legs were about to collapse.” he added jokingly, hoping to exhibit an aura of friendliness.
Potter laughed as Weasley turned red. “It seemed mad that I didn’t really care which house I went to” said Potter, lips quirked upwards a bit. “It ranted in my head for so long.”
Nodding agreeably, Blaise said: “Sounds like a nightmare. For a thing that only uses its voice once a year, it sounds like it's been singing at an opera house for months” He turned to look at Weasley, who had begun devouring his food with the grace of a starved troll. “What about you?”
“Huh?” Weasley said, rather disgustingly, around his chicken leg.
“Why did you take so long?”
“Oh” He put down his chicken. “It said I had Gryffindor qualities and that, but my ‘ambition and determination is most Slytherin-like’” Weasley mimicked its voice rather well, earning Blaise a surprised huff of laughter.
“Then why didn’t he just put you straight into Slytherin?” Potter inquired.
“Well, because there was a lot of Gryffindor in me and I really wanted to be there” Weasley looked mournfully towards the lively table on the other side of the hall. “And I don’t have ‘self-preservation’, whatever that means”
“That is one of the traits of a Slytherin” Blaise quipped helpfully. Weasley looked rather irritated. “But at the end of the day it still chose Slytherin, so you’re stuck with us for the next seven years”
Weasley groaned, “It’s going to be hell. Fred and George are going to destroy me”
Blaise blinked until Potter said: “Some of Ron’s older brothers. They’re twins”
“Ah, I think there’s a set of twins in our year too. The Patils?” Blaise smirked, wiggling his eyebrows, “Rather pretty too”
“ Very pretty” Weasley blushed at the pleasantly surprised look he got from Blaise. “Gotta put the right amount of credit on their names, is all”
“I think there’s more people here than I’ve ever seen in my life,” Potter said, looking around. “I’m never going to remember all of them”
Blaise shrugged, “Don’t bother with some of the older years then, they’ll be gone soon enough. Anyways, it’s your name that other people need to remember, not you theirs”
Honestly, he hadn’t meant it as a compliment more than as a truthful comment. Potter looked a little put off, apparently unused to people pointing out his celebrity status, before seemingly taking it in stride as a pleased smile slowly grew on his lips. “Alright then”
“Is that why you’ve sat here then?” Weasley confronted him with a display of brashness that made Blaise begrudgingly understand the Hat’s struggle to house him. “So you can leech off of Harry’s name?”
Briefly, he thought of lying. However, Weasley and Potter seemed like the type of people who appreciated a straightforward answer, being so thoroughly genetically Gryffindor and all. “And off of your’s”
Weasley looked flabbergasted, as if being the first Weasley to be in Slytherin for centuries was no big deal at all and completely unworthy as something to be leached off of.
“Mine? Me? Plenty of Weasleys out there, mate, and I’m definitely not as leech-able as most”
“That’s because they’re grown and you’re eleven. But to say you’re not leachable?” Blaise leant across the table a bit, adding a conspiratorial air to their conversation. “Trust me, by tomorrow Ronald Weasley is going to be talked about almost as much as Harry Potter will be. To me, that’s very leachable”
It appeared as though Weasley was having some sort of ground-breaking revelation, his face switching between interested, pleased and horrified in rapid succession. “Oh”
“So you’re okay with that?” Blaise said amicably, straightening his posture.
“With you being a leech or me being talked about?”
“With us being friends” So I can leach off of you being talked about.
“Oh” He said again, “Might as well. Probably will need a friend or two if I’m sharing a room with Malfoy ”
It was good to see that Malfoy’s hostility wasn’t one-sided, at least. Blaise hoped that being Weasley’s friend meant that he got front row tickets to see their fights. “Glad to hear it. I think we’re all sharing with four other guys”
Weasley groaned, “Merlin, spare me. We’re going to be with Malfoy’s thugs too”
Blaise agreed with that description, “And Theodore Nott”
“Oh good, more Death Eaters. Can’t wait to sleep in a room with that lot”
“Whv a duf ituh?” Potter said incoherently as Blaise turned to see him talk around a huge chunk of pork. The appalling table-manners of these two was seriously making Blaise reconsider his decision to befriend them.
“Death Eaters were You-Know-Who’s followers.” Weasley somehow managed to understand Potter’s muffled question and had responded with the most baffling answer.
“You don’t know what Death Eaters are?” Blaise asked, confused.
“Harry was raised by muggles. They told him literally nothing about the wizarding world” Weasley explained.
Blaise was more confused, “I feel like that’s something that should’ve been mentioned to him though”
“I don’t think they know what they are. Wouldn’t’ve told me either way” Potter shrugged before putting a whole yorkshire pudding in his mouth without cutting it and chewing rather loudly on it. Merlin, it was like neither of them had been fed before.
“Potter, you mean to tell me they wouldn’t have told you what is basically the reasoning behind why you lived with them in the first place?”
Potter looked uncomfortable before saying, “If we’re going to be friends, call me Harry”
“Alright, then call me Blaise, both of you” He looked between them as Weasley nodded and said: “To you I’m also Ron then”
They chatted for quite a while as Blaise ate like a civilised person as Harry and Ron put the banquet’s reputation for there never not being enough food to the test. It was actually quite relaxing until somewhere up the table a screech of ‘You’re a mudblood ?’ was heard.
Ron hissed in rage as everyone turned their heads to the source of the noise.
Four 1st year girls, three of whom Blaise recognised as Greengrass, Pansy and Bulstrode were all looking at the other with them.
The fourth person, an Asian girl with space buns, was frowning. “Well that sounds very rude. I think that was a bit out of nowhere”
Bulstrode, the person who’d apparently screeched, glared openly at her. “Listen, Davis, your sort doesn’t belong here”
Davis blinked in confusion, “I thought racism wasn’t a thing in the wizarding world?”
“What’s racism?” Pansy asked, looking between the girls in front of her wearily.
“‘What’s racism’??” Potter muttered, bewildered.
“Bit much for you to say that Bulstrode, considering you’re a half-blood” Greengrass said cooly. Pansy nodded along cautiously. Unlike Ron, Pansy was very big on self-preservation and it was clear she couldn’t tell which stance to take on the argument; he was sure she’d noticed every Slytherin openly listening in on it.
When they were nine, Pansy had told him that her elder brother, Parris, had spoken to her about his girlfriend, an Irish muggleborn. He told her that she’d shown him that blood purity had nothing to do with intelligence (being the Ravenclaw she was) or magical ability. That had rocked her foundations quite a bit, and consequently had rocked Blaise’s when she told him. He’d change his answer depending on who asked him, but his real view on blood purity was rather undecided.
Parris himself was throwing Bulstrode a rather dirty look.
Bulstrode flushed angrily as she spat at Greengrass, “I’m sorry my parents didn’t think to marry their cousins Daphne . It’s called broadening the gene pool”
Greengrass recoiled a bit, vehemently muttering: “They’re second cousins”
Harry looked a little sick. Blaise was not going to be the one to tell him about the intermingling on his father’s side.
Pansy was mouthing something to Parris, probably trying to ask about how to respond. He made a cutting-neck motion and she nodded.
“People keep on bringing that up” Bulstrode huffed before turning back to glare at Davis, “So I’m not associating myself with dirt- it will only make it worse”
“I don’t want to be seen with a mudblood,” Pansy said, a trace of either caution or hesitation lingered in the undercurrent of her voice.. Parris probably told her to go along with what the rest of Slytherin will want to hear , Blaise realised. Since when was the last time a muggleborn was in Slytherin anyways?
Wait a minute…
“Hey, Harry,” Blaise whispered to him. “You should intervene”
“What?” Harry said sharply, eyeing him suspiciously. “Why don’t you do it if you want to so badly?”
“Self-preservation, remember?” He grinned at Harry’s rolling eyes.
“Fine. OI, DAVIS!” He yelled down the table. Everyone was definitely listening in now, with the involvement of the Boy-Who-Lived slipping into the conversation.
Davis turned to look at him, quite clearly not recognising Potter. She was regarding him neutrally, “Yeah?”
“Why don’t you sit with us instead?” Harry said, causing murmurs to circulate around them. “Those guys look lame”
Pansy’s huff of indignation was genuine.
“Because you’re such a good judge of character, Potter” Malfoy sneered, giving Ron a pointed look everyone could see.
Ron smiled without really any joy before leaning across the table to stage-whisper into Blaise’s ear: “He’s just mad because Harry would be friends with him”
Blaise, probably against his best interest, laughed quite loudly at that.
Davis looked back at the girls, before standing up and walking over, saying “I think you’re right about that”
Oh, Blaise loved this. Here he was, sat with the Boy-Who-Lived and the first Weasley and muggleborn to be placed into Slytherin in centuries. They were 100% going to be the main topic of conversation for weeks. He loved making a big impression.
“I’m Tracey,” Davis said as she sat beside Ron. “Are those lot really going to be my roommates?”
Ron grimaced, “I don’t know who has it worse, you or us” He shook it off, smiling at her in the friendly way Blaise had probably failed to earlier. “I’m Ron Weasley”
Davis nodded, “I know, you and- Blaise, right?” She waited until he nodded yes, “-were the last ones. It was funny as hell seeing how long you took and then Blaise gets sorted in like 10 seconds”
If she’s calling him Blaise, then he’s calling her Tracey off the bat too. She turned to Harry, leaning onto the table, “Thanks for calling me over. That was getting so awkward. You’re Harry, right?
Harry nodded, “Yes I am. And yeah, that looked like it was getting rough. What was that thing she called you?”
“Mudblood, I think,” Tracey said, looking surprised when Ron began to choke on his pumpkin juice. “What does it mean?”
As Ron was busy choking, Blaise took it within his own hands to explain to both her and Harry with a sigh. “It means dirty blood. It’s incredibly offensive because some people believe that having muggle parents makes you less pure than people who don’t” He pointed to Tracey, “You’re muggleborn and Harry’s half-blood.” He told them, figuring that the words didn’t mean anything to them yet.
Tracey said: “Is there anything that applies for half-bloods or am I the only one who gets to have slurs thrown at?”
Ron looked thoughtful at that, “Maybe calling one a half-breed? Insinuating that the muggle relatives someone has makes them part beast, I guess”
Blaise tried not to openly react to that. Especially to the word beast.
It’s not as though Weasley could’ve known, in the ginger’s defence, but wording like that grated like nails on a chalkboard. He knew what people said of his mother’s ruby-red eyes- knew that one day he’d have to bear the talk as well- but it was hardly what Contessa Zabini was most well known for or anything. It was an understandable thing for Weasley to say, especially since it was true , that was exactly what blood-purists insinuated when they called a half-blood half-breed . For that reason, he managed to hold his tongue from hexing the Weasley out of his skin.
“People don’t tend to insult half-bloods from what I’ve seen.” Blaise said, the only sign of his turmoil- his hard-clenched hand around his goblet- unnoticed. “Maybe if one of their parents is a muggle, but it’s definitely not as looked down on”
“Fun” Tracey picked up some trifle, and thankfully, ate like a normal person. “Do we do maths in this school, or is it all hocus-pocus?”
Blaise was about to ask what ‘hocus-pocus’ was, before Harry said: “That teacher has been glaring at me for ten minutes, I’m not joking”
Blaise, Tracey and Ron all turned to see who Harry was talking about. A man with rather greasy black shoulder-length hair and a rather sickening complexion had indeed been scowling at Harry before snapping his attention to the teacher beside him, a man in a turban, as he became the focus of four different children.
“Dunno, looks a bit grim though doesn’t he?” said Tracey.
“What do you think would happen if I recommended some shampoo?” Blaise asked, causing Ron and Tracey to snicker.
Harry turned to the person beside him, which was one of Malfoy’s friends. “Do you know who that emo guy is?”
The boy he had spoken to looked a bit shaken, glancing at Malfoy as if he wasn’t really sure what to do with Harry talking to him. Blaise liked having friends that made other people nervous. He also liked other people being nervous of him, but he was projecting friendly-Blaise to his new group in the making so he would have to hold back for now.
Malfoy rolled his eyes before turning, sniffing rather snootily at Harry, “What are you doing talking to us, Potter?”
“We’ve got a question and we are at the end of the table; you’re literally the only guys we can physically talk to” Harry reasoned, “So who is he?”
Malfoy turned to look up at the staff’s table before waving at the very man that had looked like he was seconds away from cursing Harry. Bizarrely, the man acknowledged the wave with a nod. “He’s Severus Snape, our head of house.”
Ron burst out laughing, “Harry! How did you manage to make a teacher hate you on the first day? Our own head of house too!”
“Who are the other Heads of Houses, apart from McGonagall?” Tracey asked, genuinely interested.
“Don’t talk to me, mudblood” Malfoy hissed viciously, making Tracey’s eyes widened with surprise.
Ron’s fist banged against the table as he leant into Malfoy’s face, “Say that again and I’ll break your bloody nose Malfoy ” he sneered at the boy’s name.
Blaise was overjoyed at this development, as were Tracey and Harry. Apparently they all wanted to see Ron pummel Malfoy. The latter probably as a form of justice, but who cares if Blaise wants to see a fight for the sake of seeing a fight? Blaise was a count who’d lived a sheltered life! He wanted to see someone punching the soul out of someone else. If gladiators were still a thing Blaise would watch them frequently. Sadly they were considered too barbaric to go on after a certain point in history.
Unfortunately, the fight had been broken up before it had even started because Dumbledore had begun speaking.
Ron growled as he leant away from Malfoy and Harry looked heartbroken to see the remains of the feast vanishing from the table.
The wizard cleared his throat, “Just a few words now we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you. 1st years should note that the forest in the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well.” Dumbledore glanced at a pair of twins at the Gryffindor table Blaise assumed were Fred and George, mostly on the grounds of them being ginger Gryffindors. “‘I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors. Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch. And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death”
Ron and Blaise shared a confused glance as Harry and Tracey laughed, apparently taking the headmaster’s words as a joke.
“He is just kidding, right?” Tracey said, noticing their reaction.
“Hopefully” Blaise said as Ron added: “Reckon there’s lots of things in Hogwarts that can kill you”
That made the girl look rather alarmed.
Dumbledore had the school belch out something that could barely be described as a song- Blaise was glad that the most of Slytherin found it below themselves to join in- and then promptly sent everyone to bed.
Much to Blaise’s delight, the three people he had tactically selected stuck by him as they were being led through the castle by Slytherin’s fifth-year prefects. Tracey and Bulstrode were giving each other the stink-eye while Ron and Malfoy were doing the exact same. Harry and Blaise, between the two, were preening at the awed stares they were receiving. Harry seemed to have taken Blaise’s words to heart and seemed to be determined to have everyone remembering him.
“Congratulations on getting into Slytherin House, you’re our biggest lot yet” The female prefect said, “I’m Gemma Farley, I’m one of the prefects for our house. Beside me is Prefect Marcus Flint, whose also our quidditch captain”
Flint just nodded in their direction. Farley continued as they led them down some stairs, “Our common room is in the dungeons, under the Great Lake. You will be roomed by gender, and will not be allowed to enter each other’s dorms”
Tracey groaned and Blaise gave her a genuinely sympathetic pat on the shoulder. Harry seemed to be doing the same to Ron.
They all stopped, facing a stone wall. Farley addressed them: “When we enter a speech will commence.You will all stand and listen quietly so we can get this over with” She then turned back to the wall and said: “ Semper Primus ”
A part of the wall slid to the side, exposing a green-lit room with dozens of people inside. Farley and Flint ushered them all in, and the wall closed off behind them.
What Blaise assumed was everyone in Slytherin stood in a large circle around two people, a man and a woman, and the 1st years were forced into an opening in the circle by the prefects.
“Alright, finally we’ve got everyone here” The woman said. “I’m Ophelia Sommertime”
The man said, “And I’m Nathan Crockett. We’re the 7th year prefects here to overlook the duels and drill he rules into your heads”
From beside Blaise, Ron made a questioning noise. It occurred to him that he was the only one with family who’d been in Slytherin in his group.
“Rule one: ‘Disagreements are under no circumstances to be known by people outside of Slytherin. We must present an image of perfect unity’. This is crucial . For the firsties who don’t know why we’re going to bang on about that one, good luck because you’re going to be getting a nasty surprise. For the few older years who seem to struggle with this one, don’t think I won’t, ah, reinforce it” She cracked her knuckles threateningly at that. Sommertime had been a good choice of prefect, it seemed.
Polar opposite of Sommertime, Crockett merrily chimed in, “Rule two: ‘The common room is a shared space. Conspire to keep it neat and liveable’. I think that’s reasonable, don’t you?” He said, directing his speech towards the first-years, who cautiously nodded. “Lovely. Next rule please, Lia?”
“Don’t call me that'' Sommertime snapped back at him, “Rule three: ‘House meetings must be attended. You will get word that one may be happening prior to the actual meeting’. It will always be a prefect leading a house meeting, usually the sixth-year ones as they are not so busy with exams. That’ll be Higgs and Vaisey'' She nodded in the direction of the prefects standing beside Farley and Flint. They glumly raised a hand in greeting to the stares being directed at them.
“Rule four: ‘Don’t sully the Slytherin name by making a fool of yourself’. Don’t be an idiot, it reflects badly on all of us”
“Rule five:” Sommertime grinned at this one, which rather horrifically resembled a shark’s. “‘Don’t get caught’”
“We’re not Gryffindors, after all” Crockett said with a wink at the crowd, which sniggered. Blaise felt Ron stiffen beside him. The prefect turned to his female counterpart, “I believe it’s time we get started with the duels, Lia?”
“ Ophelia, you utter imbecile. The normal rules apply, no unforgivables, no challenging first-years, and no mentioning the duels outside of these walls ” Sommertime hissed out the last bit at the first-years. “Remember rule one, it’s our first for a reason”
“Any challengers?” Crockett asked, looking around the room.
An auburn-haired boy stepped forward, nose high in the air and announcing to the room: “I challenge Warrington”
A boy with hair so bright it could only be described as golden sighed as he stepped forward. “I accept. Again” He smirked, “Back so soon, Pucey? Not scared you’re going to lose again? My second is Faheem, but I doubt I’ll need him”
“Everyone, make space for them.” Crockett warned.
Immediately, they began casting at rapid fire, and, immediately, Blaise could see who was better. Warrington was casting some of his hexes non-verbally . He whispered to his group: “That’s going to be you lot next year”
“What? Why?” Ron said, looking sick.
“Well, Tracey’s muggleborn, and you’re a Weasley, and Harry’s responsible for sending half of these people’s relatives to Azkaban”
“How do you know we won’t drag you down with us?” Tracey said, hopefully incorrectly. Negative attention was still attention, but Blaise didn’t want to duel anyone. Especially not at twelve years old.
“What’s Azkaban?” Harry asked, thankfully quietly. If he’d been heard saying that while being responsible for people never seeing some of their families again he would’ve been jumped. Blaise didn’t answer as he was becoming enraptured with the way Pucey’s ears had grown to double the length of a particularly old elf’s.
Several people in the crowd were getting rowdy, yelling things like: “Clobber him Cass!”, “Fight back properly Adrian!” “Merlin, his ears are about to touch the ceiling!”
“ Calvoria! ” Warrington cast a spell that had Pucey’s hair promptly falling out into the carpet. “My, what a shiny head you have”
Pucey howled with rage, sending off a spitfire of curses, “ Slugulus Eructo! Furnunculus! Locomotor mortis! Ebublio! ”
Warrington sidestepped each one, looking rather pleased about it before smoothing his face into mild boredom. “ Petrificus totalus ” he said coolly.
Pucey, bald and with ears scraping the glass ceiling that showed off the bottom of the Great Lake, froze still as a board before promptly tipping over backwards onto the floor, paralysed. Several people in the crowd behind him had to jump away to avoid being hit by one of his ears.
“That was amazing” Ron said in a hushed breath, stars in his eyes, and Blaise could see Harry and Tracey nodding along to that sentiment, looking at Warrington with deep admiration.
Sommertime stepped forward, “As Pucey hasn’t named a second, Warrington wins this duel” There was some cheering from the crowd, Blaise and his friends joining in. “Will there be any other contenders tonight?”
The cheering died out immediately. Sommertime sighed before clasping her hands together, “Then I bid you goodnight. Flint, Farley, show the first-years to their rooms”
Sommertime then swept away. Crockett groaned before also stepping away from the crowd, “Someone sort out Pucey”
Flint forced them to start moving, leading them to a corridor off the side of the common room. “Girls, follow Miss Farley; boys, follow me”
Blaise brushed against Pansy, who jumped in surprise as he whispered: “Tell Davis how to ward her bed”, before moving to catch up to where Flint was leading six other boys. Blaise was an only child for Merlin’s sake, he was not used to this number of people rooming with him. Being around them all the time was going to be a nightmare.
“Malfoy’s going to murder me in my sleep” Ron said to him, though he didn’t look too scared. Actually, he was looking at Malfoy in a way that said ‘try me’.
Blaise hummed, “He’ll get Harry after you. Then probably me”
Patting his arm in solidarity, Ron embraced his upcoming death, “We’ll go down together then. It’s been good knowing you. Best hour and a bit of my life”
“Glad to hear it.” He said with a wink, making the other boy chuckle.
Flint stopped in front of a door at the end of the corridor, gesturing at it half-heartedly. “This is yours. Enjoy” He promptly walked away, leaving them alone.
They all hovered, unsure of what to do. Then, Ron sighed before pushing the door open.
The room was illuminated by the green glow that came from the lake. Seven poster beds were evenly spread out around it, equipped with thick sheets and emerald hangings attached to the frames. It was carpeted in dark green and walled in stone, looking slightly mediaeval by Blaise’s standards. There was a fireplace to the right side, which was closer to the entrance.
“It’s okay, I guess.” He said, brushing past Ron to enter the room. He walked up to the bed with all his luggage, pleased to find the one furthest from the door, where it would undoubtedly be warmest. That may be a problem in the summer, but Blaise doubted that it ever got that hot when you’re actively under a lake. He couldn’t get over that fact, really.
Ron had gotten the bed beside his, and Harry the one beside that. After Harry, it went from Nott, Malfoy, Crabbe, to Goyle. Blaise rather hoped that Goyle shivered all night long. The boy hadn’t actually done anything to him yet, he just hadn’t any love for ugly people.
Squeaking could be heard as Ron appeared to be trying to wrestle a rat out of the cage it must’ve travelled in. In Italy Blaise would have such a creature killed on sight, but perhaps things were different in Britain. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, it’s just Scabbers being an idiot” Ron grunted before running a hand through his hair, “He’s been to Hogwarts before, used to be Percy’s, but he got fed up with him and gave him to me. Dunno why he’s fussing about now”
“Maybe it’s cold?” Blaise suggested, unsure on why Ron couldn’t just keep the rat in the cage it came in.
“If he’s messing about because it’s too cold I’ll throw him into the fire” He said, seemingly speaking more to the rat than he was Blaise, cocking his head towards the fireplace. Miraculously the threat worked on the thing, seeing as it was scuttling hurriedly into the palm of Ron’s laid out hand.
“Is it the travelling, do you think?” Blaise asked, honestly not caring for the answer. However, it was crucial to him that he solidified his alliance/friendship with Weasley, Potter and Davis, and Ron seemed like the type of person who appreciated someone showing an interest in things that were important to him. Like his pet rat, apparently. “Moving around, adjusting and all that”
“Nah, Scabbers is okay with it. S’perfectly fine whenever we go on holiday, I think he’s just being dumb because I called him stupid and tried to turn him yellow on the train”
Blaise blinked, “Are you suggesting that the rat is- offended?”
Ron shrugged, undeterred by his disbelief, “I’m pretty sure most owls can understand some English. Anyways, Scabbers is mad old and perfectly healthy, been in my family for 10 years, he has. Wouldn’t be shocked if he can understand a thing or two after being around people for so long”
“Ron, I doubt the rat can understand you.” Harry said from where he was crouched beside his bed, looking at his belongings. “How come you have Scabbers? Where’s Hedwig?”
“She’s probably been put in the owlery. I think you can have her here, but I think most people keep their owls there” In an act that reminded Blaise that Ron had many siblings and was likely used to immodesty, began changing into his pyjamas as he spoke.
He didn’t know where to look, eyes wandering around and accidentally making contact with Nott’s. The boy, dark haired, freckled and button-nosed, didn’t appear the Death Eater material that Ron had claimed him to be quite frankly. Truthfully, if he hadn’t known who everyone else in the room was, making the outlier Nott by default, he never would’ve guessed that he was the son of the intimidating Lord Nott. He raised an eyebrow at him, and Nott raised one back. Seemed he too found Ron’s casual stripping a bit surprising, but had the sense not to say anything about it.
“It’s definitely there, Harry” Blaise said, turning away from Nott to look at the celebrity, “Trust me, if my falcon is guaranteed to be in the owl ery then your owl is”
“Falcon?” Malfoy asked from the other side of the room, where he had been talking rather mundanely about his father to Crabbe and Goyle.
Blaise, “Owls aren’t as quick. It would take five days for a letter to get here from Florence. Colombina gets there and back in just over one”
“Wicked” said Ron, looking at ‘Scabbers’ with what Blaise considered to be a reasonable amount of contempt. Colombina, his striking peregrine falcon, scored several leagues higher than a rat in terms of how ‘wicked’ a pet could be .
They all got changed and went into their beds rather quickly, an air of exhaustion hanging about the room. Ron, Crabbe and Goyle were wiped out the moment their heads touched their pillows. Malfoy- despite his angry mutterings of how uncomfortable the beds were- followed them soon after.
Only Blaise and Harry were awake now, the latter tossing and turning as if he couldn’t bring himself to be comfortable. Blaise himself was up mostly because his body-clock hadn’t yet attuned, leaving him rather fed up. He was tired but genuinely couldn’t doze off. The rustling of Harry’s bed sheets certainly wasn't helping. He sighed softly.
“Stop moving about” He muttered to Harry, who froze before whispering out: “Sorry”
Blaise sighed before reaching out a hand to grab something from his bag.
“Potter, catch,” he said, throwing a bottle over Ron’s head to reach Harry, who’s hand snatched it out of the air perfectly. Impressive reflexes, that. Blaise raised an unseen eyebrow as he explained: “Sleeping draught”
“Like melatonin?” Harry mumbled, already unscrewing the lid off of the potion, entirely confident Blaise would not be attempting to take his life via poison or something. This is not a trust Blaise would have for many if he were the Boy-Who-Lived, let alone a boy he’d met only a few hours ago. “Cheers"
Blaise grabbed one for himself as Harry threw his head back and chugged.