Light Nimbus pt 1

You woke up feeling excited. Your new broom was coming today. Or rather… Gemma's new broom was being delivered. You hoped Romeo made it to London in time for the broomstick to be sent as an overnight delivery.

Naturally, your excitement inspired you to rise from your bed and prepare for your day. It was still bright and early when you found yourself sitting out in the common room in full uniform with your school bag packed for your Friday lessons which featured Double Potions in the morning and History of Magic and Herbology in the afternoon.

Unfortunately, it seemed that none of the other first years shared your eagerness. To them, it was just a normal Friday so they went about their morning routine as they normally would.

But fortunately for you… Gemma seemed to be equally excited about receiving her new Nimbus Two Thousand and she, Rowle, and Yaxley made an early appearance.

“Hey, Gemma, wait up!” you called after her as you rose to pursue the three fifth years. Pansy and the other first year Slytherin girls were probably still mad at you over the ‘Megan incident’ yesterday. It made no sense for you to wait around for them just so they could continue to not talk to you.

You made sure you approached Gemma’s left side which saw you closer to Rowle and - conveniently and safely - further away from Yaxley.

“I thought maybe I’d have breakfast with you ladies this morning,” you suggested, “In case you get something interesting in the post.”

“Making it a little obvious, aren’t you?” Gemma chided you as you slipped into the small space between her and Rowle.

“Why wouldn’t we?” you countered with a casual shrug, “We’re not breaking any rules. Just circumventing a silly one. And if we’re open about it less people will see it as cheating.”

“You wish,” Yaxley scoffed, “Slytherins always get accused of cheating.”

“No, not always,” you argued as you thought of a very prominent example, “You missed the commotion at lunch after you stormed out… but Harry Potter of all people spoke up in my defense when his Head of House publicly accused me of poisoning a fellow Slytherin.” And Megan Jones had been quick to run over and reassure you that she didn’t think you were a cheating underhanded monster. “I’ve got friends in other houses who don’t automatically assume the worst in me. Maybe if you branch out a bit you could help your own reputation too.”

“Maybe I like my reputation,” Yaxley retorted. She liked being seen as a crazy flesh-eating monster? To each their own, you supposed.

“Suit yourself,” you replied. There was no helping some people.

“We didn’t think you did it either, Gaunt,” Rowle reassured you as she placed a feather light touch on your shoulder.

“Well, I appreciate that.” And you really did. You made a point to turn and smile at her, “I appreciate anyone who doesn’t automatically assume I’d poison a housemate to get ahead.” Evanora Rowle gave you a small smile back but it didn’t quite match her eyes which made it a little unnerving. You looked away back towards Gemma. “Also… if we’re open about what we’re doing then other talented first years could do the same thing.”

“You realise that three quarters of those prodigy players would be playing against you,” Gemma countered with a raised eyebrow.

“Talent is talent,” you said with a shrug, “And iron sharpens iron. Harder competition would **** our team to field better players so that we can play better. If a student has the kind of natural talent needed to join the Quidditch team in their first year… then they should regardless of their age or sex. I think that’s why Professor McGonagall blatantly bent the rules for Potter.”

“That, and she’s ****,” Yaxley chimed in again.

You reached out and poked Gemma’s side, “If you were able to pull off the broom swap with a prefect or an older family member back in your first year… you could’ve tried out before… what’s-his-name… Selwyn took over as Quidditch Captain. And maybe you would’ve gotten a fair shot. If you want to change things and build a better future… then you need to lay the groundwork in the present.”

Yaxley started cackling while Rowle gave you a poke that matched the one you gave Gemma, “He’s a cute little Quidditch revolutionary, isn’t he?”

“Your wide-eyed optimism is adorable,” Gemma remarked, “But I would’ve only been Chaser for a year.“ You mentally filed away Gemma’s preferred Quidditch position. “Selwyn still would’ve taken over as captain in my second year. And if he was stubborn and stupid enough to boot Erika Rath off of the team then I wouldn’t have stood a chance. Rath at least had three years on the team and had a pair of Quidditch Cup trophies to show for it.“

“Hasn’t Slytherin won the Quidditch cup for a few years now?” you questioned, “That means they KEPT winning after Rath was gone. If Selwyn booted her off the team… then he must’ve had someone halfway competent lined up to replace her.”

“Selwyn brought in Baglan and Gruffyd Wellnelly to play Beater and Seeker,” Gemma answered, “They transferred to Hogwarts from Durmstrag in their fifth year. To their credit, they were really good. I learned they’re descendants of ‘Dangerous’ Dai Llewellyn from the Caerphilly Catapults. Slytherin never lost a match with them on the team. But that success came at the expense of Rath and other talented witches. Because after seeing those two large lads tear though the competition… players like Flint assumed it was their SIZE that made them good Quidditch players as opposed to their SKILL.”

“Meanwhile, Rath spent her remaining years at Hogwarts using Bludgers to destroy training dummies,” Yaxley imparted, “But that must’ve been enough to catch Gwenog Jones’ eye because after she graduated last year your Hufflepuff girlfriend’s cousin snatched her up for the Harpies real quick.”

“Rath plays for the Harpies?” you questioned. You knew that if you wanted any chance with Megan Jones that you were going to need to start paying closer attention to Harpies matches.

“Jones specifically picked Rath to be her new Beater partner.” Rowle imparted, “She’s already playing Starting Beater her first year on the team.”

“Sounds like a happy ending to me,” you mused aloud. “Good for her.” And good for you, because that meant Megan’s professional Beater cousin didn’t outright hate Slytherins. “But Jones and Rath aren’t the only witch Beater duo in the league. I’ll still be rooting for Baker and Hayter when they play the Tornados.”

“Ugh… Tornados fan,” Gemma groaned as you reached the stairs and gave you a shove.

You took the hint and scampered up the staircase ahead of them then turned around when you reached the top and called back to them, “I’m just saying, Jones and Rath may be strong… but no Beater in the league matches the precision of the Dentist.”

“Who’s a dentist?”

You turned to see Hermione Granger coming down the Grand Staircase. Based on the lack of Potter, Weasley, and Longbottom at her side, you guessed that she was coming down for an early breakfast so she could make an early morning trip to the library before Potions.

“There’s a witch who plays Beater for the Tutshill Tornados who gained a reputation for hitting Bludgers so accurately that they knock opposing player’s teeth out. They call her ‘the Dentist’.”

“That is not what a dentist does!” insisted the muggleborn girl whose parents were dentists.

“What’s this, Gaunt?” Gemma asked as she reached the top of the stairs with Yaxley and Rowle filing out after her, “Consorting with muggleborns?”

“I suppose proper decorum and good form dictate that introductions are in order,” you mused, “Hermione Granger, this is Prefect Gemma Farley, Lysandra Yaxley, and Evanora Rowle.” Pointing to each fifth year girl in turn.

“Oh! Pleased to… meet… you…” Granger’s attempt at greeting the older girls trailed off when she saw the glares she was receiving from the three purebloods.

“Prefect Farley is helping me get around the first year broom rule,” you explained, “There’s nothing against the rules about borrowing a broomstick from an older student. I’m having one sent to her and she’s going to let me borrow it so I don’t embarrass myself out on the Quidditch pitch tomorrow. Be sure to share that information in case any of the Gryffindors get uppity when the post arrives.”

“...” The silent tense staredown continued.

“Best run along, Granger,” you advised, “Even Malfoy and Parkinson are scared of these girls. Especially that one…” You pointed at Lysandra Yaxley, “She bites.”

The tallest of the three fifth years obligingly bared her teeth and let out a light growl.

Granger decided that, yes, it was time for her to leave and hurried along to the Great Hall. But you saw her cast a glance back over her shoulder. Aw! Was that a look of concern? She need not worry. You could handle yourself. Probably.

“Interesting company you keep, Gaunt,” Yaxley remarked.

“Gemma and Tamsin Applebee may be at each other’s throats… but there’s no reason I can’t be cordial with my academic rival. I have a family reputation to rebuild and I try to conduct myself as a proper polite member of society whenever possible.”

“Oh, so Granger’s your rival, is she?” Rowle questioned. You and Gemma already went over your desire to challenge yourself yesterday in the Owlery when you mentioned that you convinced Megan Jones to try out for the Hufflepuff Quidditch team.

“She’s the top student in my year,” you replied, “Who else would I measure myself against in an academic capacity? Iron sharpens iron, remember? Any academic victory I achieve over her in the field she excels in is significant.”

“You’re an odd bird, Gaunt,” Gemma commented.

“No, I’m an ambitious Slytherin,” you insisted. “If I pick a lackluster mediocre rival… then what does that say about me? Beating someone who doesn’t excel at anything, barely puts any effort in, and has no accomplishments to their name… there’s nothing to really take pride in from a victory in that situation aside from my own efforts. I compete against the best because when I win it means that at that given time I was the best. And that’s something to be proud of.”

“According to the House Point ledger, your rival crossed the one hundred point threshold last term,” Prefect Farley saw fit to inform you of your standing. “And you’re still only at ninety after your public debacle in the Great Hall yesterday. So you’re only second best of the first years. Gold for the Gryffindor. Silver for the Slytherin.”

“I’ve got things in the works,” you insisted, “Professor Flitwick promised me fifteen points if I can cast the Colour Change Charm on a liquid. You know I know that. And I’ve got prospective points coming from Professor Spout for tutoring. AND! If I make a save in the match tomorrow doesn’t the ten-to-one Quidditch Points to House Points ratio mean that I’ve prevented Ravenclaw from earning a point? That’s something Granger will never be able to claim.”

“Maybe I’ll buy into that if you actually won against Ravenclaw,” Farley goaded you. “Right now… you’re all talk. Even if you did pass Granger in House Points… beating a first year isn’t much of an accomplishment to anyone older than you. And the professors tend to be extra generous to first years in order to encourage good study habits early on. Your well of points will dry up a bit next year when they start to expect you to know things. Let’s see how you stack up against an opponent who has more than one term of magical education and training. That’ll be a true sign of what sort of wizard you’re going to be. Because right now I see a lot of preening and posturing… and not a lot of followthrough.”

You knew she was winding you up. And you didn’t care. Gemma’s goading was serving as extra motivation and you knew that in her own way she was actually encouraging you to aim high. Yesterday you were nervous about going up against Mateo… today you were determined to win. “You’ll see. Maybe tomorrow I’ll shut out Mateo and prove to everyone that I deserve to be out there on the pitch.”

Gemma’s smile grew wider while Yaxley cackled, “Ooo… he’s a bold one. No Keeper has shut out Mateo since she started playing Chaser.”

“Then I’ll be the first,” you resolved.

Gemma grabbed you by the arm and tugged you along toward the Great Hall, “Then let’s go get you a proper broom so you have the best chance of making that little miracle possible.” When you reached the Great Hall, the fifth year girl shifted her arm so it was linked through yours at the elbow and you were able to enter with an appropriate air of dignity as you split off from the other two fifth years and were led around the far side of the Slytherin table.

You settled into your seat beside Gemma and used your vantage point to eye the rest of the mostly empty hall. You were the first Slytherins to arrive. Granger was the only one at the Gryffindor table and there were a handful of ‘early bird’ Ravenclaws the next table over. There was no one at the Hufflepuff table. But you heard that the Hufflepuff dorms were in the basement near the kitchens… so if a ‘Puff wanted take an early breakfast and avoid tahe crowds… they could get it directly from the kitchens rather than making their way up to the Great Hall.

Breakfast didn’t appear on the tables until another dozen students arrived. You made sure to use your very best table manners on account that you were in the company of three older witches. The same could not be said for Lysandra Yaxley who tore into her breakfast sandwich with a vicious aggression that you hadn’t seen on anyone other than Crabbe and Goyle. The fact that the ferocious fifth year was seated directly across the table from you meant you were treated to a front row seat of the Extra Gruesome Lysandra Yaxley Breakfast Show.

Wait a tick… extra... show… There was something almost theatrical to how Yaxley was eating that made it seem like the show was for your benefit. Or rather, specifically meant to intimidate an unnerve you. Yaxley was facing away from everyone else. But the fifth year had a boyfriend up until yesterday and you were pretty sure she wouldn’t be eating like this around him.

With that revelation in mind, you leaned closer to Gemma and cupped your hand in front of your mouth to stage whisper so the ‘performer’ could clearly hear you. “Does she always eat like this… or is it just because I’m here?”

Gemma smirked, “Caught onto that, have you?”

“I can’t imagine she ate like this while surrounded by the pureblood elite at the Parkinsons’ Winter Ball. So that must mean this… lovely performance… is for my viewing pleasure.”

Lysandra’s lidded eyes widened while Gemma let out a light laugh. You knew that while she and Yaxley outwardly appeared to have ‘mended fences’ that was also for show on account of Professor Snape’s decree of Slytherin Unity. Because you knew from your chat on the way to the Owlery yesterday that Farley wasn’t overly fond of her yearmate at the moment. As a direct result of that, Farley made no move to interfere and Yaxley’s eyes narrowed when she realised she was on her own.

“Maybe I’m imagining sinking my teeth into something else… Tasty,” she swiped at you.

You remembered back in November how Draco called Lysandra ‘Farley’s attack dog’. But you were starting to see her as less of a flesh eating werewolf or kelpie and more of a girl. Like an older, more aggressive Pansy Parkinson. And, fortunately for you, you’d been verbally sparring with first years’ resident bitch all week. Now you were going up against an even bigger one.

Gemma said beating a first year isn’t much of an accomplishment and wanted to see how you stacked up against an opponent who has more than one term of magical education and training.

Iron sharpens iron.

“Sorry, Yaxley,” you fired back a mock apology, “You don’t scare me.” Mostly a lie but, powered by your new swell of confidence, you thought your expression sold it. “The person who poisoned Bletchley… that’s someone to be wary of. But you? Not so much.”

Evanora covered her mouth and let out a light laugh, “Uh oh! He’s onto you, Sandra!”

No help coming from her roommate either. Left to fend for herself, Yaxley opened her mouth to bite back with another retort but you cut her off since you were still in a ‘bad dog’ mindset. “I can’t help but wonder… if I rub your belly… will your leg start twitching?”

Gemma snorted and burst out laughing at her friend’s(?) expense. The subtle implication was that whenever you called Yaxley a dog… you actually meant bitch.

Yaxley’s eyes flashed dangerously as she leaned across the table and bared her teeth, “The only way you’d rub my belly… is from the inside!”

Thinking of Yaxley as a barking dog was doing wonders for ridding you of your fear of her. Werewolves didn’t gnash their teeth and threaten to bite you… they ran you down and DID IT! She wasn’t a flesh eating werewolf… she was a loud yapping puppy. To quote Gemma, you saw a lot of preening and posturing but not a lot of followthrough. Speaking of witch, your eyes flicked over to Gemma as you remembered the lesson the prefect gave you about innuendos that week when Parkinson was harping on you about your wand. You also remembered Yaxley’s own barb about your broomstick from yesterday.

“Well, if it’s all the same to you… I think I’d prefer to go in from the other end.”

Evanora choked on her juice and Lysandra’s jaw dropped, clearly not expecting to hear something like that from a first year. And since she was caught off guard… she failed to deliver her own comeback which left you an opening for a follow up.

“You seemed really eager to ride my broomstick yesterday. Maybe I’ll let you take it for a spin. Unless you’ve got teeth down there too?”

“According to the rumors… she does,” Gemma supplied with a small proud smile.

Yaxley's face flushed and her eyes flashed dangerously as she drew her wand. You flinched and briefly thought you’d goaded her to a point where she was going to hex you (that counted as your win, right?) but instead she pointed her wand at you fork and cast; “Depulso!”

Your fork was knocked off the table and clattered to the floor as it fell through the gap between the table and the bench.

“Oops… you dropped your fork,” Yaxley remarked as she leaned back in her chair. You felt the tall fifth year's foot knock against the far side of your leg which told you she was sitting with her legs spread. “Maybe you can take a quick gander at Clawdia’s teeth while you’re down there.”

You looked over the other two fifth years, “Is ‘Claudia’ what she calls her bits?”

“She spells it with a ‘w’,” Evanora confirmed.

In what world would a witch give you a free gander at her bits? This sounded like an obvious trap to make you look stupid after you’d gotten the better of her verbally.

“I’ll pass,” you decided as you reached over and snagged a fork from the next place setting. “Why would I want to eat with a dirty fork? You’ll have to show your pet puppy to some other animal lover.”

Lysandra smirked like she’d just won, “Coward.”

“Is it ‘cowardly’ to show caution and recognise an obvious trap when I see one?” you fired back. “How about this… we’ll raise the stakes since I think you’re the one who’s all bark and no bite. Tomorrow morning, you and I meet up out in the girls’ hallway like we did two weeks ago. Wear your bathrobe like you did last time and you can introduce me to Clawdia. If you’re not all bark… I’ll let you bite me. But if you don’t go through with it… then I’ll have Gemma conjure me a collar and a leash so I can take you for an early morning walk out on the grounds… in your bathrobe!”

“A leash and collar, really?” Gemma questioned while Evanora stared with a flushed face.

“What?” you defended yourself, “I read up on kelpies last night. They’re in Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them. It turns out… you tame them with a bridle. I figure that a leash and collar would have the same effect on this one.”

Yaxley’s eyes narrowed as she bared her teeth… once again appearing more like a naughty dog than a deadly man-eating kelpie. “You don’t have the stones to tame me! I’d bite your face off!”

“Oh yeah? Let’s go find out!” you retorted. “It’s still early. If Gemma gives me that collar now I can take you out for walkies before the post arrives. I bet you’re barking so loudly because you’ve got a lot of pent up energy. Best way to solve that is to give you some exercise. Do you wanna go for a walk, girl? Do ya? If you’re good, maybe I'll give you a treat.”

Lysandra leaned closer and actually growled at you, “If you and I go for a walk on the grounds… only one of us is coming back!”

That sounded like a **** threat… but you once again downplayed the older girl’s aggression and hostility and treated her like an overactive puppy.

“Oh, did you want me to leave you outside so you can do your business?” you offered, “I suppose I could tie you to a tree or something. Maybe I’ll bring out some food in a bowl so you can eat breakfast outside. That’s befitting of your table manners.” You reached up and tapped your chin, “You’ve got something just there, by the way. Might want to wipe it before someone sees you with that egg on your face.”

Yaxley was worked up enough that she reached up and wiped the indicated spot without thinking. Only for her fingers to come up empty. Because there was never anything there.

“Gotcha,” you said with a cheeky grin. It seemed the ‘monster’ DID care about her appearance.

“THAT’S IT!” Lysandra finally snapped as she shot to her feet and aimed her wand at your forehead, “I’ll take a walk on the grounds with you… SO I CAN FIND A SPOT TO BURY YOU!”

But while you were reeling back to avoid being hexed and composing an insult that involved dogs burying bones, Gemma came to your rescue with a quick wave of her wand, “Serpensortia!”

“HYYAAAAAHH!” Yaxley shrieked in alarm as Gemma conjured a large black and grey snake which hissed aggressively and caused the taller fifth year to launch herself back out of her seat away from it and fall to the floor.

Your blood ran cold when you recognised the deadly black pattern going down the grey viper’s back. §Down. Snake.§

The snake lowered itself to the table and coiled itself into a ring as it turned to face you, §Speaker?§

§Good snake. No biting.§ You kept your hand in the snake’s field of vision as you reached out and lightly stroked the top of its head. It let you. The conjured snake’s forked tongue flicked out as he tasted your unique scent and likely committed it to memory.

“Gemma,” you hissed - in proper English - to the snake’s summoner, “That’s a European adder! They're poisonous!”

“She was attacking you,” Gemma pointed out, “It’s my job to look after cute little firsties. Besides, you asked me for a collar.” She waved her wand and the coiled adder was transfigured into a leash and collar. “There’s your bridle. Two birds, one stone. And as an added benefit, since it’s made from a conjured snake… it should respond if you give it commands in Parseltongue… like heel… or strangle.” Farley smirked at Yaxley as the taller girl pulled herself back up off the floor, “What’ll it be, ’Sandra? Put up or shut up? Do you still want to go for that walk? Because if only one of you is going to come back from it… then I think I just ensured that it’s going to be him.” She reached out and patted you on the head.

“Fuck off, Farley!” Lysandra snapped as she climbed back into her seat now that there was no longer an aggressive and angry adder on the table.

That was the thing about the Wizarding World; popular prank items consisted of Fanged Frisbees and Nose-Biting Teacups. Witches and wizards were given wands at age thirteen which meant, once they learned the spells, they could hex each other at any given time. Getting stung or ‘bitten’ was fairly common when two magic-wielding teenagers went after each other. But that being said, with highly competent healers on hand, the effects of pranks and hexes were typically fairly easy for a skilled medic to reverse.

So when you got pranked by someone else your options were: get over it or get even.

The venom in Yaxley’s glare told you she intended to ‘get even’ at some point. “Sic another snake on me… and it’ll show your little friend just how venomous you are. Let’s see if he’s still sweet on you then!” Gemma glared while Lysandra smirked… and then turned her attention to you and leaned closer, “As for you… the only place you could ever walk me… is in your dreams.”

You realised that was her way of saving face while backing down. But since this had shifted away from hexing and back to verbal barbs, you felt obligated to retort. “If I was walking you in a dream… then that collar would be ALL you’d be wearing.”

“Aah!” Yaxley gasped in surprise as her pale face flushed.

“What!?” Farley did a frantic doubletake and turned to stare at you with wide sapphire eyes.

“Kinky,” Rowle remarked with a deep flush on her own cheeks. “I didn’t expect a little first year to be into bondage.”

You blinked in surprise and rushed to explain the meaning behind your barb, “What? No. Haven’t you been listening? My ongoing theme has been that Yaxley’s a dog. Dogs don’t wear clothes. And if she’s going to continue to act like an animal then I’ll treat her like one.” You paused for a beat and recognised an opportunity to turn things around on the blonde fifth year and quickly adorned your best wide-eyed, innocent, first year expression, “What’s bondage?”

Evanora’s blush got darker as she started sputtering, “I… erm… well…”

“Oh, yes, Nora… educate the poor boy,” Gemma jumped in and goaded her.

Rowle’s face had gone bright red, “It’s a sexual thing where one person exerts dominance over another. This is done through the usage of leashes and collars… handcuffs… ropes… any form of restraint really. There can sometimes be **** and master roleplay mixed in… or petplay. There’s an added sexual thrill that comes with one person completely surrendering control to another that brings any sex they have during the bondage play to a whole different level.”

“It’s always the quiet ones,” Loud Lysandra leered at the embarrassed Evanora and pushed the leash and collar over to her, “I think maybe Naughty Nora might want to wear the snake collar.”

Evanora waved her wand - which you never noticed her drawing - and vanished the coiled snake collar and leash. “Evanesco.”

It was surprising to see how quickly Gemma and Lysandra had realigned to taunt their third friend when she showed a moment of weakness. It said something about how cutthroat older Slytherin girls could be.

You glanced around at your surroundings. The summoned snake had garnered some attention from the other occupants of the Great Hall. But the entire confrontation had taken all of ten minutes and barely anyone else had actually entered the room in that brief period. Granger was once again eying you with concern… but everyone else unceremoniously turned their attention back to the breakfast now that the confrontation had died down. That once again showed how common it was for students to sic magical creatures on each other.

Breakfast continued, and Yaxley actually displayed some half-hearted and casual table manners. There was a lingering tension between the group that made you uncomfortable. Or maybe that was because Yaxley kept staring at you from across the table. Quiet-Lysandra Yaxley was actually more unnerving than Loud-Lysandra Yaxley. Seeing the way her gaze would occasionally flick over to Gemma, and knowing the girl was a Slytherin, made you assume she was plotting some form of ****.

A part of you felt guilty for being a chief cause of the tension between Gemma and her friends… but, on the other hand, if you were actually the cause of tension after doing so little… then maybe their dynamic was quite as stable as it appeared. Another ‘performance’ the three Slytherin girls put on for the rest of the school. Best to present an uneasy unified front than be stranded alone when the majority of the school is already against you.

Speaking of the rest of the school… the Great Hall began to fill up as ‘normal’ breakfast hours approached. You were done eating by the time your fellow Slytherin first years appeared. Millicent was shockingly at the front of the group for once as she made a b-line straight for you. Although, that was also likely because Pansy and Draco didn’t seem overly eager to go near the fifth years.

“Marvolo, you didn’t wait for us…” she pointed out.

“I didn’t know if you were going to be talking to me today,” you reminded her how she, Pansy, Daphne, and Tracey had all been giving you the cold shoulder following the ‘Megan Incident’. “Gemma’s going to, hopefully, be receiving an important parcel in the post today… and it made sense to sit near her so I can ask to borrow it once it arrives.”

Gemma reached up and patted you on the head, “Watching Gaunt and Yaxley go head-to-head was so entertaining… he’s welcome to join us for breakfast anytime.”

Millicent shot the fifth year girls a surprisingly hostile glare then rather unceremoniously climbed into the spot beside you. It seemed that an effective counter to the ‘girl freeze’ was simply finding other company. And given your current companions, Millicent seemed to come to the conclusion that it was more important to ‘protect you’ from the vicious older girls rather than continue to freeze you out and ignore you. A bit late for that but you appreciated it all the same.

Blaise was all too pleased to plop himself down on the bench beside Lysandra and smiled at her, “So… I hear you’re single now.”

“Oh look… the cute little firsties are just lining up for me to bite them,” Yaxley remarked as she turned to eye Blaise - and all the other first years behind him - and licked her lips with a demented gleam in her eyes that she probably practiced in the mirror.

“Careful, Blaise,” you felt obligated to warn him, “I’ve recently learned that Lysandra has two sets of fangs to bite you with. You might survive if she only bites you with her mouth. But if Clawdia bites you… there’s no coming back from that.”

“Claudia?” Millicent repeated as she eyed Yaxley warily.

“Spelled with a ‘w’,” you informed her, “That’s the name of the dark fanged creature beneath Yaxley’s skirt.”

Yaxley grinned and seemed pleased that you were building her up in front of your fellow first years after you so viciously tore her down when you were alone with the three fifth years. You knew now that her ‘scary’ reputation was actually important to her. Hopefully, Lysandra’s improved mood would have an impact on whatever ‘****’ plan she was concocting… because you really didn’t want to deal with her coming after you while you were alone.

“And how do you know about it?” Pansy was quick to accuse you - after shoving Theodore ahead of her so he sat between her and Blaise. Daphne cast her an annoyed glare at being separated from her current quarry before sitting down on Pansy’s other side with Tracey. This put Parkinson in the advantageous position where she was at the middle of the group and (unfortunately) close enough to engage in conversation with everyone while also keeping herself out of Yaxley’s ‘biting range’ with Blaise and Theodore serving as a double layered meat shield between her and the vicious fifth year.

Draco one-upped Pansy’s meat shield game and opted to sit at the edge of the group which meant he had Crabbe, Goyle, Millicent, and you between him and Farley - who you knew was the one he saw as the actual threat.

You turned your attention back to Parkinson now that everyone was seated, “Gemma mentioned the rumors of Clawdia’s existence… and Yaxley’s done nothing to dissuade them. I may not have seen Clawdia for myself… but I also haven’t seen a fire-breathing dragon in person and I know those exist without needing to go in for a closer look. If you’re so curious… you could always slip under the table and take a look for yourself. Of course, I say this knowing there’s a strong chance that you won’t come back out.”

“Bite me, Gaunt!” Parkinson retorted. You were in the perfect position to see Yaxley’s grin get wider at Pansy’s poor choice of comeback. Now an even smaller puppy was yapping at you.

“No, I guess you weren’t listening, because biting is her thing,” you said as you gestured to Yaxley, “And also… if I did bite you… I doubt you’d taste very good. So I’m going to pass on that.”

“That wasn’t an invitation!” Pansy argued, even though she’d literally invited you to bite her.

“Good, because I’m declining,” you responded without missing a beat.

“Kids,” Gemma interjected, “Behave yourselves. Don’t make me conjure another snake.”

“There you go, Parkinson,” you took the chiding in stride, “The snake will bite you. And I’d pity it. I’d probably have to spend the better part of the day consoling the poor creature about how awful you taste.”

“I’ll do it!” Blaise suddenly declared, “I’ll sacrifice myself to Clawdia. It’ll be worth it!”

Zabini had likely seen how Yaxley’s attention had been on you recently and decided to make his bold declaration to turn it towards him. And, as far you were concerned, he was welcome to it.

“Works for me,” you said. “See that, Yaxley? You’ve got yourself a new pet.”

The fifth year girl cackled in amusement, until Draco chimed in from the end of the group, “I doubt his mother would like that…” And the laughter promptly died.

“Don’t ruin this for me, Draco!” Blaise scolded him. See? He wanted to be eaten! As his friend it was your duty to help your suicidal yearmate achieve his crazy ambition.

“Blaise…” you encouraged the willing sacrifice, “If you’re truly willing to go where no boy has gone before and confirm Clawdia’s existence… Yaxley dropped a fork…” You trailed off as you sought the previously dropped fork with your foot so you could kick it over to the other side of the table but came up empty. The fork was gone. You also noted that the fork you’d stolen from Millicent’s now-occupied place setting had been replaced. “Nevermind. It’s gone now. It seems the Hogwarts House Elves work fast. A missed opportunity for sure.”

“Hmmm…” Lysandra turned and cupped Blaise’s chin and seemed to appraise him then cast you a quick side glance and flashed another one of her manic toothy grins, “So you want to be my new pet firstie, do you?”

You were close enough to see the nervousness in Blaise’s eyes before he hid it then nodded and smiled up at her.

“Alright!” she eventually announced, “We’ll try this out. I think I’ll call you… Zabby. Let’s go for a walk… Zabby… and see if you can be a good boy.”

Yaxley must’ve decided that you were too feisty for her tastes and that dealing with you and your sharp tongue and snake fangs in public could cause damage to her precious scary reputation… so she went for a much more compliant Blaise Zabini instead. Or maybe she just thought his obvious crush on her was cute? Either way, parading Blaise around as her new pet first year would likely boost her standing and make a number of people uncomfortable.

And as a very convenient side benefit, Yaxley would hopefully leave you alone and stop trying to bite you. The birth of Zabby - or perhaps it was actually Zab B as a shortened mashed together version of his name - hopefully meant you were no longer going to be ‘Tasty’.

Provided Blaise’s mother didn’t conspire for Lysandra to die under mysterious circumstances.

Blaise scrambled to follow his crush and you grabbed a roll and flung it at Yaxley, “Heads up!” She snagged the flying breakfast roll out of the air. “He hasn’t had breakfast yet. Part of being a responsible pet owner is ensuring that… Zabby… is well taken care of and doesn’t starve.”

The eighteen year old fifth year patted the fourteen year old first year on the head. “Hear that, Zabby? If you’re a good boy for Sandra… you get a treat.”

“Yes, ma’am!” Blaise eagerly agreed.

All of you watched the departing duo as they left the Great Hall. It was Millicent who voiced the thought that basically everyone was thinking, “What just happened?”

“Gaunt just sacrificed your little friend to Slytherin’s resident kelpie,” Gemma stated. She sent you a quick side glance… was she impressed by your handling of Lysandra Yaxley?

“It’s hardly ‘sacrificing’ when he’s a perfectly willing volunteer,” you countered, “The way I see it… Yaxley gets to bite someone whenever she wants, Blaise gets to enjoy being bitten, I don’t get bitten, and no one’s **** to bite Parkinson. So… everyone wins!” You couldn’t resist taking the swipe at Parkinson who was caught off guard and only able to glare at you before you continued on, “We know she won’t actually kill him… and she knows what’ll happen to her if she inflicts grievous bodily harm on the son of Circe Zabini.” Maybe that was why he had a thing for dangerous women? “He’ll probably enjoy anything else she does to him. If they’re both willing and happy with their strange new relationship then what’s the harm?”

You paused for a beat then grinned across the table at Theodore, “Also, fair warning, if Rowle comes after me… you’ll be the next one I serve up on a silver platter.”

“...” You received a wide eyed stare from Nott and Rowle and a glare from Greengrass.

“And, for what it’s worth, Evanora was nice enough to tell me what ‘bondage’ is this morning,” you added, “Make of that what you will.”

Theodore didn’t say anything, as per usual, but the fact that his face took on a pink tint told you that he already knew what bondage was and made you question the contents of the quiet boy’s reading material.

You noted that Evanora’s cheeks were pink too from your blatant advertising of her… extracurricular… interests in front of the other first years. But then you turned your attention to Daphne and parrotted Lysandra’s words from earlier. “I hear it’s always the quiet ones.”

In a skillful but very blatant bit of maneuvering, Pansy rose from her seat and deposited herself on the bench across from you and in between Rowle and Nott, likely because Lysandra was no longer there to scare her away. The short pug-natious girl shouldered the tall but thin Theodore to the side towards Daphne then slid back into Blaise’s vacant seat across from you and Millicent. “If you keep feeding your friends to the fifth years… you’re not going to have any left.”

“If only I could find one to feed you to,” you retorted. “That’d solve all my ongoing problems.” Except Quirrell. “But he’d have to have a strong constitution otherwise you’d probably poison the poor bloke and he’d end up worse off than Bletchley.”

Pansy scowled at you then decided to change tactics and sent a simpering fake smile at Gemma, “Speaking of flesh-eating cradle robbers… tell me… Gemma… What do you think of Marvolo pointlessly pursuing that Hufflepuff Megan Jones?”

You and Gemma discussed the matter on the way to the Owlery yesterday. She outright stated that nothing was going to happen between the two of you while you were at Hogwarts and all but gave you her blessing to pursue other people during that time.

“Why would a first year Hufflepuff concern me?” the Slytherin prefect inquired, “There are six Hufflepuff prefects to deal with them. My job is to keep an eye on the ten of you. But if you’re Marvolo’s chief prospect here in Slytherin… then I can see why he decided to look elsewhere.”

Pansy’s face went pink and took a swipe of her own at the older girl, “Well, if he went for you… then it would be a folly even greater than Gideon’s.”

You weren’t sure what she meant by that but the sound of Rowle’s gasp and Farley’s suddenly intense glare likely meant it was a very personal dig at her.

The fifth year prefect fixed her glare on the mouthy first year, you could already tell that this wouldn’t bode well for Pansy. “So that’s how you’ve decided to pursue the boy you like?” She blatantly called the younger witch out. “Tear everyone else down so that you’re the last one standing by default. Take some advice from a girl who’s actually had a boyfriend, Princess Parkinson… immature bullshit like that is never going to work. Especially since the boy you’re after has shown to have an interest in more mature witches. He’s already told you himself that you’re at the bottom of his list of potential prospects. To anyone else that would be a clear sign that what you’re doing is not working. Here’s a second one: we caught him having a friendly chat with Granger this morning.”

Suddenly all the Slytherin first years were staring at you.

“She overheard me making a comment about the Tornados Beater Britt Baker…” you explained. Your eyes flicked across the hall and noted that Potter, Weasley, and Longbottom had joined Granger at the Gryffindor table. “And since Weasley’s obviously done a poor job teaching her about Quidditch… I had to explain to a witch whose muggle parents are actual dentists why Baker’s called ‘the Dentist’.”

After you very brief reprieve, Gemma immediately tore into Parkinson again, “He went on to declare Granger his ‘academic rival’... which means he at the very least respects her academic talent. I can’t say the same for you. Which means, at the rate you’re going, Granger is more appealing to him than you.”

You felt your face heat up. You still hadn’t told anyone about who you saw in the Mirror of Erised.

“Look at his face,” Farley was quick to point out, “That means he’s considered it. All you’re doing is driving him away. You’ve already gotten him to a point where he’s considering tainting his pure bloodline with Granger’s muggle blood before he’d pair off with you. So if your plan is to make yourself the last witch standing… I’ve got news for you… you’re going to have to tear down the entire skirt-wearing population of the school before he gives you the time of day.”

Parkinson’s face had gone completely pale and she looked across the table at you with a wavering wide-eyed expression that reminded you of how she looked after Yaxley tore into her at the Quidditch match. Only this time Gemma had done the deed herself. You tried to dredge up some sympathy… but you couldn’t find any. Pansy brought this upon herself by saying wherever she said to make Gemma mad… and the older girl had retaliated by verbally violating her.

“You annoy me, Parkinson,” you weighed in and spoke frankly so that maybe Prefect Farley’s harsh dressing down would finally solve your pesky Pansy Parkinson problem. “I only tolerate you because we’re in the same house and I have to. If I were in any other house… I’d have nothing to do with you. In fact, the thought of spending time alone with you… actually sounds like ****.”

Parkinson let out a squeak but didn’t speak. The devastating combination maneuver led by Gemma and with you quickly following up hand rendered her speechless. She was used to dishing it out but she wasn’t as used to taking it. You hoped she’d take the verbal thrashing as a wake up call. Because beneath Gemma’s harsh verbally flaying… there was some valuable courting advice mixed in.

No one else spoke either. Most of your fellow Slytherin first years were the children of Sacred purebloods which meant their families traveled in similar social circles and had to hold their tongues around ‘Princess Parkinson’ so most of them had been ‘tolerating’ her from before Hogwarts. They likely fell into one of two camps… either they felt you crossed the line by publicly chastising the prickly pureblood princess but didn’t want to speak up to piss you off… or you voiced their own thoughts and said things that they wanted to say to Parkinson themself but couldn’t due to social pressure from their families. You knew Draco thought she was annoying too and told you outright how relieved he was that Parkinson had turned her attention toward you. He was pointedly looking away to avoid being drawn into things. As were most of the others.

A tense silence fell over your group… until Marcus Flint suddenly sat down across from you in Yaxley’s empty seat. “Owl post is due soon. Did your owl make it to London?”

“We sent it off early enough,” Gemma responded, “You’ll know when we do.”

But while Farley responded to Flint, you turned and grinned at Parkinson and hoped she remembered your comment about feeding her to a fifth year. And yes, Flint was actually a sixth year… but his troll-like qualities meant he had the strong constitution that might help him survive ingesting a poisonous Pansy Parkinson.

It seemed Pansy DID follow your train of thought because her eyes went wide in horror and that even she didn’t want anything to do with Flint despite his impressive ‘Sacred’ pure bloodline. Parkinson silently slid further down the bench away from Flint so she was pressed against Nott and left Blaise’s previous seat empty.

“Hmm… she didn’t even use her signature ‘You! Wouldn’t! Dare!’ line,” you mused to yourself. Maybe the verbal lashing from you and Gemma really had gotten to her? “I think I’ll ease off of her for the rest of the day and leave her to stew. See if anything comes of it.”

Since you were done eating, and since you hoped there was a large broomstick-sized parcel coming in the post, you began clearing the space in front of you so the delivery owls would have room to land. Gemma quickly caught on and cleared her place too which meant between your two cleared spaces there would be plenty of space for the owls to land with their three to four foot package.

To his credit, Flint’s five and a half years at Hogwarts must’ve ingrained a sense of time into him and familiarised him with the school’s daily routine because he knew almost exactly when the Owl Post was due. The clock struck eight and the first of the owls flew into the Great Hall through the raised windows. And among those early birds was a familiar ashen feathered barred owl who swooped down and landed lightly on your shoulder.

“There he is!” you affectionately stroked the dark gray feathers above Romeo’s face.

“With no package,” Flint pointed out. Probably why he was one of the first to arrive.

“Do you expect one owl to carry a broomstick all by himself?” you countered, “Even if they magically lightened the weight of the load… it’s still an extra long package. Didn’t you see Potter’s broom arrive back in September? Quality Quidditch Supplies has a team of delivery owls that they use for broomsticks. The fact that Romeo’s here should be enough to tell you that he made it to Diagon Alley and back. The delivery owls are just taking a little longer because they have to fly in tandem with a large package.”

Flint gave a grunt and you noted that Gemma was doing her best to hide her displeasure with the unwanted and uninvited presence of the stubborn oaf currently keeping her from the Slytherin Quidditch team. But Farley had been dealing with Flint for years, you were sure that she could manage for the remainder of the meal.

You turned to the witch on your other side, “Millie, Romeo’s been to London and back and could probably use a snack. I’m likely going to cause a commotion when Gemma’s package arrives… would you mind feeding him?”

Millicent’s expression seemed conflicted as she cast a glance over at her roommate but then softened when she eyed your owl, “I can’t say ‘no’ to that handsome face. C’mere, you.”

Romeo was all too happy to flit from your shoulder to Millicent’s larger one as she retrieved one of the empty plates you moved away from your spot and began cutting up bacon, sausages, and ham into pieces for a nice Hogwarts pork banquet.

Another familiar face appeared as Malfoy’s eagle owl Ulysses swooped down with a letter and a small package. Ulysses eyed Romeo’s breakfast plate in front of Millilcent while Draco removed the parcel tied to his leg and as soon as it was gone the eagle owl beat his wings to glide down the table to land opposite Romeo and began partaking of the plated pork breakfast.

Before you could ask Malfoy what he’d gotten, a loud screech drew your attention - and the attention of almost everyone else in Great Hall - as a team of six large screech owls flew in carrying a long thin package between them. The delivery owls made use of the space you and Gemma preemptively cleared and laid their package down in front of Gemma (and you). The six owls looked like they were about to take off again… in fact, one of them actually did but then their heads all turned to the side as they spotted Romeo and Ulysses having their breakfast.

“GAAH!” Millicent gave a squawk as she suddenly had EIGHT owls dining in front of her. They were behaving more like wild pigeons than trained owls. But she recovered quickly and began cutting up more sausages and ham for the new arrivals. She paused briefly to scold one of the delivery owls who pecked at a bit of meat before she finished cutting it. “Oi! Wait your turn. There’s enough for everybody.”

Meanwhile, Gemma had opened the box and lifted the lid to reveal the same sleek and shiny broomstick made from the finest mahogany with the words ‘Nimbus Two Thousand’ inscribed on the handle in gold that you had impulsively purchased back in August.

You gave an appreciative whistle, “Might as well make this official. Gemma… would you mind if I borrow your new broomstick for practice and matches?”

“Of course,” she agreed with an easy grin, “That was the deal, wasn’t it?”

“Brilliant!” you chirped. But then you felt the curious and suspicious gazes of the rest of the Hogwarts student body on you. “Erm… would you mind casting the Amplifying Charm on me? I feel like an explanation is in order and I want to get ahead of this before people jump to conclusions like they did yesterday.”

“You’re going to cause a ton of drama again, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” you confessed, “But this time it’s drama caused by my scheme and not someone else’s.”

“Try not to lose any points,” she advised as she pointed her wand at your throat, “Sonorus!”

You felt your throat beginning to magically vibrate as you rose from your seat and stood on the bench - not the table like Professor Snape chastised you for yesterday - which elevated you enough so you could see the rest of the school over your large and imposing Quidditch Captain’s head.

“In case any of you were wondering…” your voice boomed across the Great Hall like Lee Jordan’s usually did during a Quidditch match. Except you weren’t shouting. “While the school rules clearly state that first years are not allowed their own brooms. There is no rule preventing them from borrowing a broom from an older student.”

“What the hell are you doing!?” Flint demanded.

“Sorry, Flint,” you loudly apologised without meaning it, “After everyone was so quick to point fingers and make accusations yesterday… I think it's important that I’m open and honest about what I’m doing.”

Flint’s face had gone red but none of the Hogwarts professors in the Great Hall, one of which was Professor McGonagall, saw fit to interrupt you. That meant they didn’t outright disagree with your take on the school rules. Although, your Head of House was giving you a VERY stern glare for causing another public spectacle so soon after the one from yesterday.

You quickly turned your attention back to your audience, “So if any of you have younger siblings or cousins who have dreams of playing Quidditch… and you’re willing to subject your adorable younger relatives to the brutality that is Hogwarts Quidditch while they’re still a first year… then by all means… go ahead and loan them a broom and let them have their shot! If they’re good… maybe they’ll make their house team as a reserve. After what nearly happened to Potter in November and what happened to Bletchley yesterday… I’d say that all four Hogwarts Quidditch teams could stand to gain more reserve players.”

You paused for a beat then turned your attention to the Ravenclaw table and managed to spot Jessica Mateo. “And if they’re REALLY good… maybe they’ll make the starting lineup. Tomorrow, I intend to prove that letting Potter play as a first year wasn’t a fluke… but the start of a PATTERN. Unfortunately, that performance will come at the expense of the Ravenclaw team… for which I’d like to apologise in advance.” You flashed Mateo a cheeky grin then shifted your gaze to Megan Jones at the Hufflepuff table and gave her a wink, “I only get one chance to make a first impression on the Hogwarts Quidditch Pitch… and I intend to make the very most of mine.”

You cleared your throat and nodded, “Eh-hem, thank you for your time.” And then you looked down and saw a flushed and furious Flint fuming as he lunged across the Slytherin table to publicly **** you with his bare hands. “YIPE!” Your amplified voice carried your yelp across the hall as you were abruptly yanked off of the bench from behind and felt a familiar chest you had fond feelings for pressed into the back of your shoulders. “Thanks, Gemma.” The prefect had likely just prevented you from being publicly flogged and strangled. Because, unlike Lysandra Yaxley, you knew that Marcus Flint was perfectly willing to inflict physical injury upon a first year.

Millicent grabbed the Nimbus box off of the table and flung it at you, you caught it and cradled it to your chest with both arms, and Gemma wasted no time in hustling you along the table and towards the exit.

“Sit. Down. Flint.” Professor Snape barked from the Head table to prevent your murderous Quidditch Captain from chasing after you.

It was only after Prefect Farley had safely removed you from the Great Hall that she pointed her wand at your throat again and cast, “Quietus.” She shook her head at you, “On one hand, the look on Flint’s face was priceless. But on the other hand… I think you just permanently altered Hogwarts Quidditch.”

“And on a third hand,” you inputted, “None of the six professors in the Great Hall took points… I’m taking that as a sign that they approve of my good form and sportsmanship.”

“One day you’re going to run your mouth off to the wrong person and I’m not going to be there to set a snake on them or yank you out of arm’s reach.”

“Yeah, but I still have you here for another two and a half years,” you countered with a fond smile you reserved for your favorite prefect. “I figure by the end of my third year… I’ll be perfectly capable of defending myself.”

“Cheeky little bugger,” she responded with a soft smile you were pretty sure she only used around you. “I was thinking more along the lines of tonight’s Quidditch practice.” Oh, shit. Yeah… there’d be no avoiding Flint then. “But until then, I’ll get you and the broom somewhere safe so we can postpone whatever Flint does to you for as long as possible.”

Gemma led you back to the Slytherin common room, paused so you could hiss at the wall and open the door, then continued down the girl’s hallway to her private dorm room. This time she opened the door for you and you carried the broomstick inside. You thought that the closet was the best place to store a broomstick and brought it over but it seemed great minds thought alike because there was already a quality racing broom propped against it.

“Wait… you already have a broom?” you questioned.

“That’s my Cleanweep Seven,” Gemma informed you, “I was about to offer to let you borrow it but then you made me a better offer. Do I look like a great fool to you?”

“No,” you replied honestly, “You’ve already struck me as exceptionally intelligent.”

She grinned, “Well, when a plucky first year hops in your lap and offers you a free Nimbus Two Thousand… only a great fool would turn that down.”

“Fair point,” you conceded.

“I think having two brooms will actually be quite helpful,” Gemma reasoned, “Since it would be in your best interest to avoid seeing Flint in the Great hall during lunch… What do you say, I grab some sandwiches from the kitchen and we meet up at the training grounds outside the Herbology greenhouse instead? I’ll bring both broomsticks so we both break in the Nimbus before your evening practice and you can feel for yourself how it compares to another quality broom.”

“Brilliant! It’s a date!” you quickly agreed.

Gemma stepped closer and reached up to trace her finger across your forehead over your eyebrow. A trill raced down your spine and you hoped she couldn’t hear your heart pounding in your chest as she stood less than half a foot from you and stared you directly in the eyes.

“If you were at least two years older… I’d actually consider it one.” Your face started burning and Gemma let out a light laugh. “Let’s get you to class. Potions first on Fridays, right?” You nodded, “Maybe you should use your time before class productively and read up on Burn-Healing Paste. It might help you with that face of yours.”

That just made your blush WORSE. It was only after Gemma had successfully guided you to the Potions classroom and ushered you inside - after unlocking the door with a quick “Alohomora!” - that you realised you left your school bag back in the Great Hall.

“Erm… I left my bag in the Great Hall,” you reluctantly admitted, “Going back for it might be detrimental to my health.”

“Then ask for it,” Gemma suggested.

“Ask who?”

“The same creatures who make the feast appear and transport your luggage from the train to your dorm room.”

“OH!” you caught on then stared up at the ceiling, “Erm… if there are any Hogwarts house elves listening… I left my school bag on the bench at the Slytherin table. Could you please transport it down here so I don’t have to go all the way back up to the Great Hall to retrieve it?”

Less than a minute later, your school bag appeared on the floor in the aisle between the two sides of the classroom.

“Thank you!” you called up to the ceiling.

“Flint doesn’t know your class schedule… unless one of your little friends sells you out to get rid of him,” Gemma resolved, “But Snape probably already knows you’re in here so you should be fine until lunch. Try not to cause any more trouble until then, alright?”

“I’ll do my best,” you assured her, “Thanks for everything, Gemma.”

“Of course, kid, you know you’re my favorite,” she replied as she headed for the door. She paused and looked back and gave you a strange smile, “At this point you should know there’s not much I wouldn’t do for you.”

For some reason you felt a swell of confidence and boldly asked, “Even snog me?”

She stopped at the doorway and looked back at you again with a raised eyebrow… and then turned around.

Holy Merlin! She was coming closer.

Great Morgana! She was right in front of you.

Sweet Salazar! She reached out and cupped your chin and tilted your face up towards her.

Holy crap! Holy crap! Holy–

Your train of thought was abruptly derailed as she sealed her lips to yours. The only thought left in your mind was that the Potions classroom had just become your absolute FAVORITE place in all of Hogwarts.

Gemma’s kiss almost instantly blew past whatever that thing was Pansy did when her lips made contact with yours after the Quidditch match in November. You were left gaping in shock when she finally pulled away.

“Like that?”

“Eeee…” Incapable of words, all you could let out was a little squeak.

“That’s my way of saying ‘thank you’ for the Nimbus,” she whispered into your ear then gave you a peck on the cheek before she pulled away and left the room.

Getting over this crush was going to be a lot harder than you thought.

You stood standing in a wide eyed daze for FAR too long before you turned your attention to your bag on the floor. You fished out your Potions textbook and began studying Burn-Healing Paste. You didn’t know if that’s what you would be covering in class… but Gemma told you to do it. And at that point, Gemma Farley could do no wrong. She could tell you that she was the one who jinxed Potter’s broom and poisoned Bletchley - which you knew wasn’t true since you had seen Quirrell committing that first crime - and you would still instantly forgive her.

Harry bloody Potter couldn’t hold a candle to the massive torch you now carried for Gemma Freakin’ Farley.

Speaking of Harry Potter, he, Ron Weasley, and Neville Longbottom were the first to arrive at Potions. Considering how hard the trio normally tried to avoid being in Professor Snape’s classroom and that there were still twenty minutes until the start of class… you suspected that they came early in the hopes of finding you.

“There he is,” Harry noted.

“Remaining in the Great Hall seemed detrimental to my health,” you stated. You used that line with Gemma already but they didn’t know that.

“Flint looked like he was ready to **** you,” Ron remarked. “He went after the first years but set off Bulstrode’s pack of owls and they all swarmed him.” You grinned when you imagined Flint being harassed Romeo, Ulysses, and the six delivery owls. It was nice to know that they protected your yearmates from Flint’s wrath. “Snape told him to sit down.” He glanced around the empty classroom, “I guess he lets you hide out here then?”

“Erm… I don’t technically have his permission to be in here,” you admitted, “But I have it on good authority that he probably knew the moment the door was unlocked. If he had an issue with it… he could’ve come down and kicked me out. But since he hasn’t and when you add in that this IS where I’m supposed to be… I don’t think he has a problem with it.”

“Couldn’t **** me to come in here nearly an hour early,” Neville confessed.

“And yet here you are,” you pointed out, “Twenty minutes early. That makes me suspect that maybe you three were looking for me.”

You were surprised when Ron was the one who stepped forward to address you, “Is what you said about first years trying out for the Quidditch team true?”

Small wonders never cease. RON WEASLEY braved an empty Potions classroom to find you.

“Of course it is,” you replied, “Do you really think I would loudly announce it to the entire school if it was a lie? Everyone would think I’m a total prat.”

Ron’s lips quirked like he was about to say something snarky like ‘They already do’ but restrained himself when he remembered the reason he sought you out.

“Besides,” you quickly added, “Longbottom was there back in September when Madam Hooch told me there was no rule against first years trying out for their house team. If you don’t believe me, you should at least believe him.” You paused for a beat and cut to the point of the conversation, “Did you want to tryout for the Gryffindor team?”

“Erm… yeah… especially after you announced that all the teams could do with some reserves.”

“Well, whether or not you actually make the team… or are permitted to tryout is entirely up to the captain. But fortunately for you, Oliver Wood already has two Weasleys on the team, was previously on the team with your brother Charlie, is willing to allow girls on the team, AND has a first year in the starting lineup. So that should all but guarantee you a fair tryout.”

Lavender Brown suddenly strode into the classroom in a huff with Parvati Patil trailing behind her, “What’s wrong with having girls on the team?” Were the two gossipy girls listening at the door?

“Absolutely nothing,” you were quick to assure them while noting that you were outnumbered five-to-one. ”But Flint clearly thinks there is. I can assure you now that I’m on the starting lineup and have a proper foot in the door… that’ll be something I’ll be looking to change.”

“If Flint doesn’t **** you first,” Neville added.

“If he kills me… then he’ll have NO keeper for the match tomorrow,” you reasoned, “Once he’s cooled down I’m sure even he’ll realise that.”

“You haven’t even played a match yet,” Harry felt the need to point out.

You looked down at your collar and gave a theatrical gasp as you stared at your green and silver tie as if seeing it for the first time, “COR! Would you look at that!? It’s almost as if that manky old hat put me in the house for the most ambitious students. Who would’ve thought!?”

Your bit of theatrics earned you a giggle from Patil and an eye roll from Potter.

“You’ve got lipstick on your cheek by the way,” Brown informed you as she eyed your cheek.

“Cripes!” you yelped and rubbed the spot where Gemma had kissed you and shot the three Gryffindor boys a hot glare, “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because there was never anything there,” Harry deadpanned.

Your eyes flew wide open when you realised that Lavender Brown just got you with the same ‘spot-on-the-cheek’ bit you pulled on Lysandra Yaxley. You glared at the perpetrator who was looking exceptionally pleased with herself.

“You just made my list, Brown!” you warned her.

“You have a list?” Patil questioned.

No, you didn’t. “Yes, I do!” you lied, “Of witches I need to keep an eye on!”

“Can I be on it?” Parvati requested with an impish grin.

What the hell was happening? She wanted to be on your fake list that didn’t actually exist? When did you suddenly become approachable and teasable?

“And what have you done to warrant a spot on the Vaunted List of Gaunt?” you bantered for the sake of it.

“Nothing yet,” Patil admitted, “But… we could start a juicy rumor about what went on with you and that prefect.”

“Unless you want to tell us what actually happened,” Brown added with a teasing grin.

“Fine! You’ve both made my list!” That didn’t exist. They both giggled in response so you weren't sure if they were onto you. “And there’s nothing to tell. It turns out when you gift a girl who is a skilled flier and a lifelong Quidditch fan a new Nimbus Two Thousand so that you can borrow it for Quidditch practice and matches… they tend to be grateful and sometimes choose to express that gratitude in a positive way. Which, in this case, is a kiss on the cheek.” You didn’t feel the need to tell them about the other kiss.

“That prefect seems to be overly fond of you,” Harry spoke up and seemed to recall the mark Gemma had left on your forehead, at the return feast. “That’s not the first time she’s left a mark on you. You don’t see Percy Weasley doing that sort of thing.”

“Blimey! I hope not!” Ron blurted out.

“That other one was a birthday present!” you defended yourself then reminded the Gryffindors whose classroom you were in, “And you all know full well that Slytherins play favorites.” You took a swipe back at Potter since this was starting to feel like a five-on-one Gaunt Taunt-a-thon. “I dare you to name one of the Gryffindor girl prefects!”

THAT shut him up. Potter wasn’t exactly a social butterfly.

But when Potter went quiet, Patil used it as an opportunity to chime in, “Hear that, Lav? It turns out kisses are appropriate birthday presents for favourite boys.”

“That’ll make shopping a lot easier,” Lavender turned, “Just need to find the right color lipstick.”

Harry, Ron, and Neville’s eyes all went wide in horror at the two-headed monster you just unleashed in their house. Eh. They’d live. You could think of several dozen things worse than Brown and Patil threatening their ‘favourite’ boys with birthday kisses.

“So, Quidditch!” you announced a welcome change of subject, “Discuss, now! Weasley, what position do you play?”

Ron seemed grateful for the change of subject and doubly so that you brought it back to his original topic. “Er… back home with my brothers I played Keeper.”

“Did your brother Charlie leave his broom home?” you inquired.

“No, he took it with him to Romania,” Ron answered, “He wrote home saying it was useful when dealing with the dragons. But even if he left it… one of the twins would probably be using it.”

“Which means you could borrow whatever they’re currently flying on,” you countered. “But if you’re looking for your own broom… when’s your birthday?”

“March first,” Ron responded. Lavender and Parvati promptly started giggling and caused his ears to turn red.

You soldiered forward and cast Harry and Neville a pointed look, “Hear that? Your friend who loves Quidditch has a birthday coming up. Between you two and Granger you could probably pool some money together to get him a halfway decent broomstick and then hand it off to one of his brothers to hold for him. It doesn’t need to be a fancy Nimbus Two Thousand. He could get by with a Cleansweep or a Comet. I did my tryout on a school broom and have been getting by on one all this time. Talk to his brothers, write to his parents, write to his oldest brothers who have paying jobs, give that snowy owl of yours some proper exercise and see if they’re willing to chip in. Even just a galleon or a handful of sickles could go a long way.”

“Sorry, Ron!” Lavender announced, “We’re short money at the moment but we could still put on some lipstick and give our favourite Weasley some birthday kisses!”

The rest of Ron’s face now matched his red ears.

You turned your attention back to Harry, “Talk to Wood, he could probably recommend a quality Keeper broom that’s in your price range. He might even be willing to chip in. You know first hand that he can see the value in a long term investment. I can assure you that having a second Keeper at Quidditch practices to run maneuvers and practice plays against is dead useful. Johnson, Spinnet, and Bell will probably see his value after just one practice. And if Ron has a new broom then that means the Gryffindor team has a new broom. Even if he’s not on the starting lineup until Wood graduates… he could loan his new broom to one of the twins… and they could use it for matches. If you watched professional Quidditch, you’d know a Beater can do a ton of damage on a Comet Two-Sixty or a Cleansweep Seven.”

“What’s this, Ron?” Seamus Finnigan called out as he walked in with Dean Thomas. “Are you tryin’ out for the Quidditch team?”

You decided to continue being helpful as it was now seven-on-one. “Are you, Weasley? Because it’s best for a Keeper to act quickly and decisively. Slytherin’s match against Ravenclaw is tomorrow. Which means Wood will likely have the Gryffindor team start training for the match against Hufflepuff as early as Sunday. Playing a pickup game at home with your brothers and defending against a full team of Chasers on Hogwarts’ regulation-size Quidditch pitch are entirely different things. But even if you show up on a school broom and are completely terrible… if you start training as a first year you can only get better. Plus, you’ll have Wood there to give you tips and discuss strategy. Wood knows that he’s not going to be on the team forever. He’s a fifth year and the oldest player on a very young Gryffindor team. That means, in two and a half years, he’ll be the first player Gryffindor will need to replace. If you have a properly trained Reserve Keeper to step in once he graduates… it’ll make the transition easier.”

“Should you really be helping your competition?” Dean Thomas asked. “Your Quidditch Captain already looks like he wants to **** you.”

“Better competition means I’ll need to be better in order to beat you,” you boldly declared even though you were a lone snake surrounded by seven lions. Since Granger was probably only just leaving the library, this was probably as bad as it was going to get. Last Saturday you threw yourself into a nest of eight badgers. “Any of you talk to Megan Jones from Hufflepuff?”

“Is she on your Vaunted Gaunted list?” Patil inquired from her usual place on the ‘Gryffindor’ side of the room.

“Of course she is,” you replied, “Near the very top.”

Finnigan and Thomas shared a look and mouthed the word ‘list?’ to each other.

“Ooo… so the Vaunted List of Gaunt is in order,” Brown remarked.

“Yes, that is generally how lists work,” you reminded her while simultaneously digging the hole under your nonexistent list even deeper.

“Where are we?” Patil asked.

“You and Brown just got on it so you’re at the bottom,” you informed two witches who spawned your fictional list which - much to your horror - was actually starting to take form. “But there’s always room for upward mobility if you continue to try my patience.”

This inspired a new twittering of giggles as the two Gryffindor witches had a hushed discussion over whether or not they wanted to rise in the ranks on your list.

“As I was saying,” you turned back to address the boys, “Last Saturday, I convinced Jones to try out for the Hufflepuff team in September. Although, I might have just moved up the timetable on that. We didn’t have flying lessons with them but, according to the seven Hufflepuffs who were sitting with her, she was the best of their lot.” You smirked at Ron and goaded him again, “Best get a move on, Weasley, if you want to keep things square. Even if you float completely stationary in front of the middle hoop, you’ll at least function as an obstacle for the Gryffindor Chasers to throw around.”

“So… are you going to tryout, Ron?” Neville prompted.

“Erm… yeah… I guess I'll ask Wood,” Ron answered. The Gryffindors gave a cheer of encouragement and his ears - which only just returned to their usual hue - flushed red.

“Speakin’ of ‘square’,” Finnigan piped up, “Didja do any recruiting for the Ravenclaw team?”

“No,” you admitted. You generally tended to avoid Terry Boot and the Ravenclaw first years. “But the match is tomorrow and Slytherin has the pitch booked tonight for the last practice slot. So it’s too late at this point. And after what I do to their Chaser line tomorrow… I doubt they’ll be too keen on my company.”

Although, to compensate for your recruiting for ‘the opposition’, perhaps you could do some recruiting for the Slytherin team? You knew one witch in particular who had two brooms who would make a spectacular Reserve Chaser.

But first you’d need to convince Flint not to kill you.

“All this bragging and you still haven’t played a match,” the Boy-Who-Almost-Swallowed-A-Snitch reminded you, even though he’d only participated in ONE match himself. He didn’t seem to like your boasting.

“Come to the match tomorrow and watch me back it up,” you retorted, “After what happened to Bletchley yesterday… the professors will likely be on high alert. I doubt anyone will try to kill you while you’re watching from the stands.” Hopefully, the extra eyes on the Hogwarts Quidditch season would quell Quirrell’s Potter-favored blood lust. “Attending would be in your best interest. You could scout Skye Parkin.”

“Who?”

You cast Weasley an annoyed glare and blamed him for Potter’s ignorance. Teaching Harry these things was his job! “The Ravenclaw Seeker. The seventh year with the dyed blue hair. Can’t miss her. She comes from a famous family of Quidditch players and is the one you’ll be going up against in May and, aside from you and me, is the only other Quidditch player in Hogwarts currently with access to a Nimbus Two Thousand.”

It was only then, with ten minutes left until the start of class, before which the gathered Gryffindors could have long since killed you and found a good hiding place for your body, that your fellow Slytherin first years arrived.

“So here you are,” Draco commented as he led the group of eight Slytherins into the classroom.

“Here I am,” you returned, “Surrounded by seven Gryfindors and left to fend for myself.”

You watched the house divide form before your eyes as the loitering Gryffindors finished crossing the room to ‘their’ side while the Slytherins filed in to their usual places on ‘your’ side.

“We saw your bag disappear but weren’t sure where you were hiding out,” Draco stated. .

“Potions is the first thing on Fridays,” you pointed out, “I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.”

Malfoy walked over and pulled a slip of paper out from his robes, “I doubt you’ll need it anymore… but my father sent the sales record for your monthly bezoar purchase.” You took the sheet and saw the detailed transactions starting on the 4th of September and continuing on the fourth of every month since with the most recent one being for today the 4th of February. Interestingly, there was a large 0 in place of the usual price. Draco held out a familiar sized and shaped pouch. “He included a note saying your monthly bezoar is now free of charge and that he’ll sleep better knowing it’s in capable hands.”

“Oh, that’s generous of him,” you remarked as you took your first free bezoar. “If I hadn’t been busy causing a commotion I would have sent a thank you note.” You turned around and held up the bezoar pouch so everyone else could see. “Hear that, everyone? Even though the culprit still hasn’t been caught… you can rest easy knowing that if any of you end up poisoned during mealtimes… I’ll only be a holler away with a complimentary bezoar.”

“If we’re on your list do we get mouth-to-mouth?” Lavender Brown asked with a small smirk.

“What?” you sputtered then quickly recovered when your practical mind kicked in, “Don’t be daft. You never do mouth-to-mouth on someone who's been poisoned because then you could end up ingesting it.”

Patil’s eyes lit up and she called across the room, “Parkinson, are you on Gaunt’s witch list?”

“Oh, here we go again,” you mentally groaned.

Pansy blinked in surprise, clearly caught off guard by the question, “What list?”

“AH!” Lavender gasped, “She doesn’t know! That must mean she’s not on it!”

“What… list… Gaunt?” Parkinson ground out, sounding much more like her usual self than the last time you saw her.

“Are you talking about his prospective witch list?” Daphne asked, who recalled the ‘list’ conversation from the common room yesterday and the brief follow-up mention at breakfast.

“Is THAT what it’s for?” Brown questioned.

Most of the boys looked like they were watching a fast-paced Quidditch match upon witnessing the girls’ rapid-fire banter. Crabbe and Goyle looked completely lost.

“Sounds like Greengrass is on it!” Patil remarked.

“Didn’t he threaten us with the list?” Lavender recalled.

“Is it a good list or a bad list?” Parvati wondered.

“He said Jones was on it too,” Brown reminded her.

“WHAT? LIST!?” Pansy demanded again as her face began to turn red.

“Am I on your list, Marvolo?” Millicent quietly inquired during the brief lull.

“Millie… you’re my best friend and I heard that your flock fought off a furious Flint. You’re the top entry on my list.”

“Oh…” Millcient said as her face flushed red, “thanks.” Lavender and Parvati started giggling.

“WHAT!? BLOODY!? LIST!?”

Pansy’s red face matched Millicent’s but she was flushed for an entirely different reason. She looked really mad. You told yourself earlier that you would lay off her for the rest of the day. She’d asked four times now… maybe you owed some kind of explanation about your list… that didn’t actually exist.

You glance down at the bezoar pouch in your hand, “Look at it this way… say you get poisoned. If you’re not on my list… you get the Bletchley treatment… meaning: I throw this thing to someone else nearby and make the act of saving you their problem. If you ARE on my list… that means you have my attention… which can be both a good and bad thing because, in the event that you’re poisoned, I will take this gross little stone and stuff it down your throat with my own hand to personally ensure you keep breathing.”

“Oh, how romantic!” Lavender fake gasped with an over-the-top flutter of her eyelashes.

“And, unlike you two,” you said with a half-hearted wave at Brown and Patil, “If you’re actually high on my list… then not only do I administer your life-saving bezoar myself… but I will personally escort you to the Hospital Wing and Gaunt-haunt Madam Pomfrey until she confirms that you’re stable. Then I will do my absolute best to hunt down and publicly crucify the person who poisoned you.” You paused and eyed Millicent, “Because if you’re high on my list… you matter a great deal to me and that means I’m highly invested in your continued existence.”

“Are blokes on the list?” Crabbe asked. You knew he was concerned about food after Bletchley got poisoned.

“No, you missed the part at the beginning when I said it was a list of witches I have my eye on,” you informed him. Parkinson started glaring at you. It seemed she hadn’t learned her lesson. “But rest assured, if you do get poisoned… I’ll ensure that and someone nearby stuffs this thing in your gob. Although, in your case, Crabbe, we’ll have to take an extra few seconds to confirm that it’s actually poison and not stomach trouble from overeating.”

And so the Fourth of February 1994 was the day that the Vaunted List of Gaunt - or the Vaunted Gaunted - was born.

All because of a snarky empty threat you made to a pair of Gryffindor girls and all three of your stubborn refusal to let the bit go afterwards. You never ‘officially’ wrote anyone’s name down… but the Hogwarts rumor mill ensured that practically everyone knew about your witch list by dinner that night and your list became something of a running gag for the duration of your time at Hogwarts.

But before you could hear anyone else’s reaction to the Vaunted List of Gaunt… Hermione Granger burst into the room looking like she just legged it down the dungeon corridor.

“Professor Snape was right behind me… and he’s in a foul mood!” She stopped and blinked when she saw that almost everyone else was here before her. She hurried to her station across the aisle at the front of the room and set down her back.

Sure enough, Professor Snape stormed in a moment later. His black robes billowed him and he looked furious. You had the sinking feeling that he was about to take his anger out on a room full of first year students.

“Gaunt!” the Potions professor barked and immediately noticed the empty space next to Nott, “Where’s Zabini?”

The fact that he immediately targeted you when his favored bullying targets, Harry Potter and Neville Longbottom, were at a table in the back of the room told you that you were the source of your Head of House current frustrations. Either he was annoyed from having to restrain Flint… or maybe his fellow professors were getting on him for you announcing the first year broom-swap strategy he suggested to the entire school… but either way you were now his chosen target for venting his frustrations.

“Erm… I may have fed him to a fifth year who was bothering me…” you reluctantly admitted. His dark eyes bore into yours as you thought back to the last time you saw Blaise Zabini… when Lysandra Yaxley led her new pet first year out of the Great Hall.

He broke eye contact and his gaze dropped to your Potions textbook that was still open to the Burn Healing Paste you were studying until the first of the Gryffindors arrived.

“Goyle, work with Nott today,” the Potions professor ordered. Goyle seemed to sense Professor Snape’s foul mood - especially after Granger announced it to everyone when she burst in - and hastily began gathering his things so he could join Nott at his spot a row back.

The Head of Slytherin House glared at you, “Blaise Zabini and Lysandra Yaxley were last sighted at the edge of the Black Lake and have since vanished.”

Wait… HE KNEW!? Maybe THAT was why he was in a foul mood? One of his first years was missing. Alongside one of his fifth years. It also justified why he went after YOU since you just claimed responsibility for it.

“Gaunt… since you lost Zabini… you’re going to find him.”

It felt like you got off light if you were the lucky student who got to leave the presence of a surly Severus Snape. You reminded yourself who Blaise was with and ducked down to retrieve a vial of purple Topical Bruise Remover from your school bag.

And then Professor Snape announced the catch to allowing you to leave the classroom.

“Oh, and Gaunt,” he added with a very nasty sneer then gave his wand a quick flick and cast “Tempus.” Black numbers appeared that, instead of glowing, seemed to suck in the limited light around them. 8:55 “You have twenty minutes to find him and return. Otherwise, I will take two points from Slytherin for every minute you’re both missing beyond that.”

Your mind buzzed at the concept of your time limit. Hogwarts was a large castle and Yaxley who had been boarding in it for four and a half years knew it a lot better than you. There were HUNDREDS of places she could have stashed Blaise. If they were last seen by the Black Lake, maybe they went to the boathouse? Or maybe she tied him to a tree in the Forbidden Forest as some form of petty **** for all the ‘dog’ comments you made about her?

Twenty minutes… that sounded like just enough time for a first year to sprint out to the grounds and back. But you would only return within the time limit if Blaise was actually in the first place you chose to look.

The Double Potions was ninety minutes. Your twenty minute time limit meant you would be permitted to miss the first fifteen minutes of class. After that, your collection of ninety house points would quickly begin dwindling and would reach ZERO… if you failed to find Blaise within the first hour of class. And then every minute after that you would begin LOSING points for your house. Failing to find Blaise before the end of class would not only cost you all of your ninety house points but would put you an additional sixty points in the red on top of that. Your fellow Slytherins would probably LET Flint **** you if it got to that point.

This ‘quest’ Professor Snape was sending you on sounded like a very clear punishment.

The petty Potions professor’s nasty sneer turned into a cruel, vindictive smile as he cast one final curse upon you and raised the already high stakes of your punishment fetch quest even further. “And, Gaunt, if you fail to find Zabini… you will be tasked with writing a letter to his mother claiming responsibility for losing her son.”

Your eyes went wide in horror as you realised the new - potentially fatal - stakes of your mission. It wasn’t just your collection of ninety house points riding on it anymore.

You had to find Blaise Zabini… OR CIRCE ZABINI WOULD **** YOU!!!!

---

Marvolo Gaunt House Point Ledger

Current Total: +90

Points awarded by: SS, RH, QQ, MM, FF, + AD