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Yeah, Right! by Betana

Format: Short story
Chapters: 2
Word Count: 2,142
Status: WIP

Rating: 12+
Warnings: No Warnings

Genres: Drama
Characters: Snape, Cedric, Draco, Goyle Jr., Pansy, Crabbe Jr., OC
Pairings:

First Published: 11/28/2014
Last Chapter: 12/11/2014
Last Updated: 12/11/2014

Summary:
What happens when a sociopathic Slytherin and a sassy Hufflepuff collide?


Chapter 1: Chapter One
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The sight of the Hogwarts Express relieved any tension I had carried with me through the platform. The huge red-and-black train waited right next to the barrier, blowing steam as groups of students finished boarding and families huddled around the windows. For a moment, I paused to contemplate what it would be like to have parents stand among the others and wave through the windows, but quickly shook it off to board the train. The thought was absurd. At the moment they were most likely in the Brodhurst Laboratory, as they usually were considering their jobs as full-time potioneers. No time for wishing goodbyes. They knew perfectly well that I wouldn’t miss spending evenings alone, reading or conducting experiments. Hogwarts was, after all, my true home.

I ended up in a compartment with two younger Slytherins who discussed what had gone on over the summer. Their talk of summer turned to their boyfriends, at which point I became completely uninterested. I focused instead on the newspaper that was sitting beside one of the girls. A man with scraggly black hair screamed silently out of the front page above a caption labeling him as Sirius Black. Black. I had heard of him, of course, from brief discussions of our lineage. The Blacks had branched off of the family tree a few generations before, separating from the main roots along with the other pureblood relatives.

A plump lady with a large cart rolled up alongside our compartment, interrupting my thoughts. “Anything from the trolley, dears?”

The girls across from me delayed their conversation to order two boxes of Bertie Botts Every Flavored Beans. I handed over a galleon to purchase a chocolate frog. Albus Dumbledore smiled at me from the card inside the as the girls began to whisper excitedly. Part of me desperately wanted to release the frog in their general direction, but I decided to save mischief for the right opportunity. Those girls weren’t worth my time.

Day turned to night as the train rumbled on, and the gossip across from me slowly diminished into tired murmurs. Sleeping students were soon woken up to change into their robes, and when the sky reached its darkest shade, the train came to a stop. The herds of students took a while to get off the train, but we were all out soon enough. The groundskeeper, Hagrid, towered over the first years who waited anxiously to be led to the boats. I followed the other third years to the carriages, eventually finding the one with my old crew.

Draco Malfoy and his faithful wannabes, Pansy, Crabbe, and Goyle, were already waiting in the carriage when I arrived.

“Valera,” nodded Draco.

I sat down next to Pansy, who moved over to make more room. “Draco.”

The ride to the castle only took about fifteen minutes. I remained silent as the others talked about what they did over the summer, and stared up at the stone towers drawing nearer. This is, after all, what I had been waiting for since I was sent back home to Whittler Street.

The rest of the night carried on as it usually did the first day back. Everyone gathered in the Great Hall to watch the first years get sorted into their houses, listen to Dumbledore’s welcome back speech, and enjoy the feast that traditionally appeared on the table before them. I ate quickly so that I could go back to the Slytherin dormitory before anyone else. The halls were quiet, practically empty as I made my way down the familiar stone steps.

“Pureblood,” I muttered to the hidden wall at the end of the corridor. Immediately, it parted to reveal the wide common room, tinted green by the various lanterns and reflections from the lake. Down another flight of stairs was the girls’ dormitories, in which I chose my usual bunk by the corner window. Students gradually started filtering in, comparing schedules and laughing until the only sounds to be heard were quiet snores.

I’m home. I’m finally home.



~ ~ ~ ~

The Great Hall was buzzing with excitement for the first day of classes. Most of the talk around me was centered around the newest faculty member, Professor Lupin, who was supposedly our Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher this year.

The bench moved slightly as Draco slid into the spot beside me. “Wonder how long this one will last. I’ll give him to the end of quarter. Maybe less.”

Play along. I smirked. “I’ll give him a month.”

Draco and a few other students around us laughed, then huddled around the table. I turned away from them to look at my schedule for the day. Care of Magical Creatures, Potions, Transfiguration, Divination, and Defense Against the Dark Arts. When the time came for our first class, I followed Draco and the others down the hill to Hagrid’s hut. The air was crisp, marking the beginning of autumn.

In front of Hagrid stood what looked like a small animal with extremely shaggy hair, small arms, and hooves for feet.

“All right, you lot, gather ‘round. Come on now!” Hagrid grinned down at us, beckoning us to move a little closer to the creature. It gave a slight huff before eyeing them all steadily.

Draco shoved a Gryffindor out of the way to get a better view, crunching down on an apple he had swiped from breakfast.

“Now then,” beamed Hagrid, clapping his enormous hands together. The creature twitched. “Which one o’ you can tell what this little fellow is called?”

One hand shot into the air immediately. Hermione Granger, a Gryffindor girl who was famously best friends with Harry Potter (and also Ron Weasley), stepped forward. “It’s a Porlock, sir. They guard horses, mostly in Ireland, but they’re also known for mistrusting humans…”

Hagrid grinned even wider. “Right you are, Hermione. Five points to Gryffindor! See, class, this one here is sor’ of an old friend o’ mine. Helped him scare off a nasty banshee a while back, and so here we have ‘im today.”

The rest of the class was spent learning about the lineage of Porlocks and trying to get the little creature to stop twitching whenever someone spoke. After what seemed like quite a while, Hagrid dismissed us and I hurriedly followed the stone corridors to the dungeons for Potions. A few Hufflepuff students were seated around the classroom, glancing anxiously towards the door whenever anyone entered. They were, of course, probably anticipating the entrance of Professor Snape, who everyone outside of Slytherin seemed to fear.

Sure enough, just as soon as the last student settled down, the door slammed open. Snape strode to the front of the room, black robes billowing behind him.

“Silence,” he ordered as he went to stand behind his desk. There was no need; everyone sat silently, waiting for him to make his usual sardonic speech.

“It is imperative that you listen closely and follow my exact instructions throughout the following courses. However, this will no doubt be yet another year in which one of you will not fail to disappoint me. The potions you will be studying this term are far more difficult than any you have prepared before; therefore it is in your best interest to pay attention.”

A glassy-eyed Hufflepuff boy straightened immediately.

“A sample of the Wiggenweld Potion, along with a brief outline of its uses, is due on my desk by the end of class. You will be partnered with another student of my choosing.” At this, a list of paired names appeared on a black board with a quick flick of his wand. “Detailed instructions can be found in chapter one of your books. Begin."



I searched the board, trying to locate my name. It was near the bottom, with the name Sage Brooks written in spikey letters next to it. There was nobody by the name of Sage Brooks that I knew of in Slytherin, therefore she must be a Hufflepuff. I scanned the room, watching some of the pairs form and move off to gather ingredients. After a minute or so, the only Hufflepuff student left was a girl with short brown hair, lingering in the corner. She looked up just as I located her and made eye contact. Brilliant. An incompetent partner to complicate an otherwise simple task.

Chapter 2: Chapter Two
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Another year at Hogwarts is another year of torture.

I hate it here. I hate the classes, I hate the castle, I hate Slytherins and I hate the fact that I can't be with my best mate, Emma.

She's a muggle. I'm a witch. For the entirety of the wizarding world, that's the end of the story. That's probably what I hate most of all... the way wizards and witches treat muggles.

But that's not important. No one wants to hear a third-year Hufflepuff shake her fist at the world. What's important right now is that I have to make a potion. And with a Slytherin, too. And to top that, a Slytherin that hangs out with Malfoy.

It's just not my day.

Regardless of whether I like it or not, I'm paired with Valera Knoxx and we have to make the Wiggenweld potion. I sigh as I stand and make my way to her desk, knowing that she's not going to come to mine, as she pulls out her cauldron and the necessary equipment.

For a few seconds, we just sit. I'm studying her and I can tell she is evaluating me. Her black hair barely reaches her shoulders and her grey eyes blend into her face. She wears her uniform completely as it should be, robes and all. This is unlike most students who wear their sweaters or shirts untucked or their ties undone. She obviously has no personality. Just about when the staring gets akward, she gives the slightest smirk and starts measuring out salamander blood. Her smirk would have been completely unidentifiable if I had not been watching so closely only moments ago. That bothers me. I don't like it when I can't read people. Especially Slytherins.

It takes me awhile to stop thinking about the smirk, and by the time I come around she has already added salamander blood three more times. That puts us nearly a third of the way through the potion. Right now the potion is a brilliant turquoise. I look for the next step and read:

6.Stir until it turns indigo.

Valera stops stirring the potion for some reason. I reach towards the ladle, planning to stir as the instructions say. Her ice cold voice stops me instantly when she says: "Don't. Touch. Anything." I look up, extremely confused and starting to get angry.

"The instructions say to-"

"No, they do not."

"Yes, they do." I counter. I reread the sixth part to show her she is wrong. It reads:

6. Heat until it turns indigo.

I look back to Valera who is now pointing her wand at the flames. Fine. I think. I look over the instructions again, reading more carefully this time. I find the ninth step which says to add five lionfish scales. I reread the same sentence a few times to make sure I understand it correctly. I then take out five medium sized lionfish scales and wait for the right time to mix them in.

Once the potion turns red, I pick up the scales carefully and move to put them in the cauldron. Before I let them drop from my hand, Valera throws her own lionfish scales into the potion. I quickly stop myself from releasing my own and glare at Valera.

"What are you doing?" I ask, blood boiling.

"I have a greater aptitude for potions than you." She states plainly.

My jaw nearly drops. "First of all, that's not true." I work to keep my voice lowered. "Second, you could have hurt someone. If we would have put the lionfish scales in at the same time, who knows what could have happened? It could have exploded!"

"Lionfish scales do not cause potions to explode."

"No... stupid Slytherins do." She pauses for a second and I know I have offended her. Good. I think. But she doesn't say anything. She simply starts pouring flubberworm mucus into the cauldron, causing the potion to change colors rapidly.

And that's how the rest of the class goes. I sit and watch as Valera goes through every step perfectly. Much to my dismay, Snape even seems pleased with "our" sample when Valera brings it to his desk. While Crabbe and Goyle's final product is a strange kind of purple, Valera presents the exact shade of green it is supposed to be.

I sigh aloud as I think to myself:

Valera Knoxx is one more thing to add to the list of things I hate.

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