Black As Painted
“Oh, this is particularly difficult,” The Hat whispered in his ear. “There’s wit and intelligence, although your thirst for knowledge is somewhat lacking. I sense great courage, and loyalty, oh yes; a very admirable trait, indeed. But above all else… I sense great determination in you, lad. You strive to prove yourself, and are not afraid to make sacrifices along the way. I suppose you’re a—SLYTHERIN!”
Sirius Black hopped off the stool, feeling numb as he trudged his way over to his new House table, his own funeral more like. He noticed Narcissa and Bellatrix exchange approving glances. He looked over to the Ravenclaw table where he met Andromeda’s eyes briefly, but she quickly looked away.
Mother and Father would be pleased. But was he? No. He knew James, the boy he met on the train, would be a Gryffindor. And obviously, Gryffindors and Slytherins did not fraternize.
A part of him had wanted to be different than the rest of his family. He sighed. But it appeared he was just another Black after all.
And No Harm Became…
“I feel kind of sorry for that Pettigrew bloke,” Sirius sighed. The three friends, Sirius Black, James Potter, and Remus Lupin were walking down the corridor to Transfiguration.
“Who?” James asked nonchalantly.
“That boy who was hanging around us on the train,” Remus informed.
“Oh him,” said James. “Slytherin, isn’t he? Weird. Doesn’t look very Slytherin-like to me. More like a Hufflepuff.”
Sirius laughed harshly. “He should be in Hufflepuff. The Slytherins’ll have nothing to do with him. He doesn’t have any friends.”
“But maybe he’s not very loyal,” Remus suggested with a shrug.
James scoffed. “I’m just glad he won’t be tagging around us for seven years.”
Ironic
Draco watched her from afar. But that was all he could do. Watch. She smiled and laughed while she talked to him. Him. Of all the people she could love. It had to be him. The person he despised most.
Funny how life works out.
He was handsome. He could have any girl in the school… except for her, of course.
He watched Potter as he did everything that Draco longed to do. Touch her, kiss her, dry away her tears...
Oh yes, Draco loved Ginny Weasley, but considering she loved his enemy, it simply didn’t matter how he felt.
Mischief Managed
“We’d better hurry up and decide,” Fred whined. “I want to get to Hogsmeade and buy more Stink Pellets! I’m completely out!”
“It’s Hermione I’m worried about,” said George, ignoring his brother. He scratched his chin thoughtfully. “If he tells her, we may as well give Filch the map ourselves! And we can’t let something this good go to waste.”
“But the poor bloke can’t even go to Hogsmeade,” Fred sympathized. “Oh- shhh, here he comes.”
They watched from behind the hump-backed, one-eyed witch as Harry Potter sulkily walked unaccompanied along the third-floor corridor.
“Should we give it to him?”
They looked at each other and arrived at the same inevitable conclusion. “Nah.”
Opposites
“I don’t understand.”
“Neither do I. But I suppose if we understand everything there wouldn’t be much point to living.”
Harry and Draco stood by Hermione Granger’s tombstone in silence, neither knowing what to say to the other.
“You think I hate you,” Draco stated.
“Yes,” Harry replied. “Don’t you?”
“I used to. But now I suppose you remind me too much of myself for me to really hate you.” He paused. “No. That’s not right. I think it’s the opposite. I hate myself too much to concentrate on hating anyone else.”
Harry laughed bitterly. “I suppose we are alike.”
The Rat
“HARRY, DON’T!” Hermione screamed.
He didn’t listen, didn’t care. There was no way it would work. They couldn’t save both Sirius and Buckbeak. Something would go wrong. Something always went wrong.
But not this time.
He held out his wand. “PETRIFICUS TOTALUS!” He bellowed before the rat could run any farter into the forest. For a moment, all was still.
He walked over cautiously. He picked up the stunned rat who was the very same wizard who had betrayed his parents.
The corners of his mouth turned upward slightly, for he realized that from now on… everything would be different.
Wicked Smile
She was beautiful. Everything about her was perfect. Harry wondered vaguely how he hadn’t noticed it before. She loved him, he knew, she just didn’t want to show it. She had a streak of pride that made her a true Gryffindor. She wanted to prove to him that she had truly grown up and was over her girlish crush. But Harry didn’t need it to be proven, he already knew.
He saw her walking alone down the corridor. He remembered the shy, blushing little girl he'd first met and marveled at how they could possibly be the same entity. But then again, Harry thought, maybe it isn’t her that’s changed.
She walked past him, making no acknowledgment that he even existed.
“Ginny,” he called out to her. She turned, just barely, just enough for Harry to see a wicked smile play across her lips. She kept on walking.
Expectations
Harry exited the courtroom, his head hung sadly.
“Harry!” yelled Mr. Weasley, who had been apparently waiting anxiously outside the door. “What-” but he was silenced, obviously by the look of despair on Harry’s face. “No-”
Harry nodded grimly. Mr. Weasley looked utterly taken aback, but then he patted Harry comfortingly on the shoulder and smiled sadly. “Well, I suppose we ought to be getting back.”
It all had the surreal quality of a dream. He was never going back to Hogwarts.... He almost laughed out loud when he remembered that, while in the courtroom, a part of him had almost expected Dumbledore to come to his rescue and save the day once again.
