Elemental

The Mistaken Slytherin

The next day, nothing much happens. We have regular classes. There's no Muggle Studies or Defense Against the Dark Arts—really just Dark Arts, now—today, thank gods.

Wednesday, however, is a different story.

A boy walks up to me as I head to Charms, my first class today. "Look, I just want to apologize," he says.

I turn around, startled. "Me? What for?"

"My brother." Seeing my puzzled expression, he adds, "perhaps I should explain. My name is Ralph." He grimaces, like it's a bad name or something. "Ralph Crabbe."

"YOU'RE HIS BROTHER!" I shout. Heads turn. I lower my voice. If looks could kill, Ralph would be long gone. I finally notice is green-and-black striped necktie. "But then, why are you apologizing?" I've never met a Slytherin who isn't a pureblooded purist.

"Look, the Sorting Hat made a mistake. I'm not evil, I swear. Or ambitious, or whatever Slytherins are supposed to be." He turns earnest eyes on me.

"How do I know you're not lying?" I ask suspiciously.

He shrugs. "Trust me, I suppose?"

"Um..." I trail off, because of course that isn't good enough for me. I'm not taking the word of some stranger—especially some stranger who could very well be trying to kill me—without verification. I stand there for a moment before I realize. "Accio Veritaserum," I whisper, praying there is some in the potions classroom. Sure enough, a vial lands in my hand. I can tell that it's only a few drops mixed into water or some other drink. Perfect, I won't have to dilute it myself.

Ralph looks at me, surprised. "That's pretty advanced stuff for a first-year, isn't it?"

"Yes, yes, it is," I reply simply, handing him the bottle. "Now drink."

Without a word of protest, he downs the small bottle. His face immediately blanks.

"Do you have any intention to harm me or anyone I care about?" I ask. Best to keep it simple.

"No," he says immediately. Then he blinks, hard, like he has dust in his eyes. "Wow. Again, where did you learn to do a Summoning Spell?"

"Not important. Okay. Wow. Um, I'd better get to Muggle Studies." I dash off.

"Don't you know who you were just talking to?" Juliana exclaims, popping up next to me. "His brother is—"

"Relax, Ralph's cool," I explain, my American tongue coming out as I say it. "And you know how I am."

Today we have Muggle Studies with the Hufflepuffs. We "learn" about how "idiotic" electricity is. Juliana keeps looking at me worriedly. "I'm fine," I assure her quietly. "I'm used to it."

"Ten points!" Professor Carrow exclaims, overhearing.

The hour drags on and on until finally we have Charms, which zooms by all too quickly, as do lunch and the first half of double Potions with the Slytherins. We're still learning about potion ingredients and their properties. I am apparently the only student who knows what a bezoar is. A Slytherin girl whispers, "Know-it-all." I shoot her one of my soon-to-be-famous death glares. She's just jealous.

Detention is awful, as usual. In addition to Neville, though, a kid named Seamus refuses to curse Alexander. I close my eyes this time. Today my tormentor is Goyle, who appears to be a friend of Crabbe's. I think I'd rather have him than someone who doesn't want to do it. I wonder how long it'll be before Professor Carrow realizes that Beth and I are sisters. Anderson is a relatively common name, at least in the US, so I'm relying on the teacher's all-too-obvious stupidity.

The rest of the week is all the same, and soon even detention becomes routine. even the rest of the month is okay. A lot of people give me odd glances when they see me talking to Ralph. I ignore them. I can only imagine how horrible it must be for him. At least the people looking at me are concerned; Ralph must be enduring terrible bullying for being friends with me.

It's October when it happens. It's Friday the thirteenth. I try to tell myself that bad luck is just an old Muggle superstition. But I just can't shake the feeling, wondering if perhaps the Fates are trying to help me by giving me a warning.

I've made up my mind.

It's a sign.

Some of the Slytherins get to go twice a week during their class. They love it. It must be Pansy Parkinson's third time by now. I still absorb the pain for the others, and I still scream louder than anyone else, but at least I know what to expect now. I still don't say anything. While it may not seem like much, it's the most I can do.

Today, Lucy is first, then a Ravenclaw named Claire. Both are paired with trembling, innocent partners—a Ravenclaw girl and a Hufflepuff boy—who are praying for forgiveness as they whisper the word that has changed the lives of everyone it's spoken to. I wonder if they're related, given their similar reactions.

Professor Carrow calls my name before announcing the seventh-year. He hesitates, just for a second, before he reads the name. Then he smirks. I feel time slow down as he continues, and on a wild impulse I check for a monster but I realize it's just my nerves.

"Anderson," he says. He can't hide his grin. "Elizabeth Anderson."

The whole room gasps, realizing who we are.

"No!"

Sorry for not updating on Sunday, I had plans and I got home later than I thought I would. But I'll probably be able to post the next chapter tomorrow, on schedule.

If anyone is interested, I've got a new obsession: Rent, the second-best musical ever written (Hamilton being the best). I know my friends (namely han_han961 and another friend who isn't on Wattpad) are sick of my constant fangirling over it, to which I reply: Get into it yourself! Hamilton fans would love it.

What is your uncommon obsession? Comment!

Also, if you like Rent, comment!

Or, you know, just comment so that I know you're alive.

~Sasha