Petals & Thorns | Fred Weasley

two

SONG OF THE CHAPTER -
this city • sam fischer

The entrance hall was littered with excited children. She upturned her nose at the sight. Even the first years seemed to already hold a fear for her. They saw how the older students watched her and cowered away. They didn't want to get involved. She laughed to herself as she watched Peeve's begin his yearly mischief. That didn't hold her attention long, though. She felt a group following her as she presented herself into the great hall. Behind her followers, Draco carried himself with his own band of baboons. She hadn't given him a second look as they returned to the school. She let her feet take her to her seat. She always resumed the spot at the table closest to the professors. As she floated down the walkway, she caught eyes with Snape. He gave her a smile as he saw her face. She had always been his favourite student. She was quiet, intelligent, and in his house. She wasn't a show-off. Her brains were only revealed when she was called upon, and when she demonstrated it in her work. She didn't jump to answer questions, or shout out answers.

She sat on the bench. Pucey resumed his spot beside her. The rest of the boys filed down a line. She usually had them organized in the most important order to her. It went Adrian, then Marcus, and then Lucian. She didn't care where the other two situated themselves. Her brother sat across from her. It wasn't unusual that the Malfoy children held the head of the table. Although she didn't associate much with him, she expected him to follow her lead. Often times, she found Draco watching her. He wanted to be like her, but was too tempered to hold the same attitude. He followed her much like the rest of the boys, hoping to learn something from his sister. His feeling of inferiority was not hidden. He wanted his parents to look at him the way they did with her. Although she believed Draco was Lucius's favourite child, the youngest child did not believe this was true. He could never make his father as proud as he was of her.

The students crowded inside, taking their chairs at their respective tables. Addy watched as the Gryffindor table became populated. She scowled at the red and gold. She didn't have a particular distaste for a specific person. Just the thought of the big-headed occupants made her uneasy. She knew she was no better, holding herself like a god of Slytherin. At least she had purpose. Her last name gave her a reason to be conceited. The Gryffindor's thought they were superior merely for the fact they had Harry Potter in their house. He wasn't special. He survived the night of The Dark Lord purely by protection of his parents. She was well aware of the charm his mother casted on him with her love. He wasn't powerful, her sacrifice saved him. With a look to Dumbledore, McGonagall started the first years into their sorting. Although she was head of a house Addy hated, Adalinda held respect for her. She was a powerful wizard and a great teacher.

As each new Slytherin was sorted, their table erupted into chaotic cheers. She gave three claps for each, no more, no less. She didn't let a word escape her mouth as they walked over. They were only true Slytherin's in her eyes if they could prove themselves. The hat shouting a name didn't give them status, it gave them a challenge. They had to make her believe they were worthy of the title. Many upper-years still hadn't proven their place to her yet. Blaise Zabini was the only underclassman she accepted as a true Slytherin. He was calculated, smart, and showed many traits she admired. She thought of her brother and his other friends as unworthy. Pansy Parkinson, Vincent Crabbe, and Gregory Goyle were a disgrace in her eyes. They were stupid, angry, and everything else she disliked. They blindly followed her brother.

As the sorting finished, Dumbledore stood and bid them the right to begin their feast. The boys around her slobbered over their plates, causing her to glare at them. They picked up on her look, and calmed themselves down. If they wanted to be associated with her, they wouldn't present themselves as fools. She carefully arranged her plate with food. She ate slowly, avoiding any messiness. She didn't bother going back for seconds. Her parents had taught her it wasn't lady-like to do so. Her brother, on the other hand, gorged himself until he could barely breathe. She gave a snide expression at him. He looked down, nervously.