Young Writers Society

Hey guys~ Here's the first chapter of my HP next gen fanfic. I'm pretty sure there's no swearing yet. If there is, let me know! Constructive crit is welcome! I apologise for the length. I tried to split it into parts, but I couldn't find a decent place to cut it off. Also, don't be afraid to ask me questions!

Enjoy~ <3

Chapter 1

Samara stood on platform nine-and-three-quarters, gazing up at the Hogwarts Express. All her siblings were already on the train, which left her alone on the platform with her mother and father. Steam hung thick in the air, but she could still see the train--and off to her left when she looked, stood Scorpius Malfoy and his parents. Beyond them, Samara could see the Potters. She frowned and turned back to her parents. Her father looked annoyed.

“You’ll be in Slytherin, dear,” her mother was saying. “Won’t you?” The tall, brown-haired woman slanted a look at Samara’s father. “After all, we were, weren’t we, Isaias?”

Isaias Devereux stared back at his wife, gaze betraying nothing. “Slytherin, indeed.”

Samara looked from her father to her mother and back again. Neither seemed inclined to tell her more, so she turned back to the train, scowling. She knew her father had joined You-Know-Who when he was still young. According to the house elves, it hadn’t been long after he’d left Hogwarts. Somehow, Samara wasn’t inclined to disbelieve them. After all, they told the truth about almost everything else.

“Samara, the train is about to leave. You’d better get on it, quick!” It was her mother, reminding her that she needed to be on the train already. Samara shot her mother a smile and gave her a quick hug before dragging her trunk onto the train, glancing back once only to see her mother waving frantically and her father giving her his trademark stoic look, like he usually did. Samara sighed and turned away as the platform--and her parents--disappeared into the steam.

She was on her way to Hogwarts. And she was alone.

Muttering to herself about annoying siblings and disapproving fathers, she made her way down the carriage, dodging people, trunks and animals while looking for her siblings. “Cassiopeia better not be trying to hex those Weasley girls again,” she said, glancing up and down the hall. “Not after what happened last time.”

Finally, she found an empty compartment and plonked herself down on the seat. Her trunk was way too heavy to lift, so she left it dumped on the floor beneath the window and propped her feet up on it. Things began to blur outside the window, but Samara just produced a book from her trunk and began reading. A few minutes later, a black cat slinked into the compartment and jumped up onto the seat next to her.

She reached out to pat it and jumped when someone knocked on the door of her compartment. Samara peered over the top of her book to see a boy looking at her. He was thin with dark hair and dark eyes. “Is it alright if I sit with you?” he asked, peering back out into the corridor.

Samara blinked and looked about her compartment. “Well, it’s not like anyone else is right now,” she told him and went back to her book, only peeking up when she heard him move to find him sitting down across from her.

“So you’re the new Devereux girl my father’s been talking about.”

“People have been talking about me?” She was surprised, and rightly so. The Devereux family wasn’t all that important---not like the Malfoys or the Potters. Not at all, but she supposed some people might be interested in the Death Eater who married a Muggleborn Witch. “Why?”

The boy gave her a look, as if to say ‘why not?’ and leaned back in his seat. “Alexander Nott.”

Samara raised an eyebrow, but she kept any comments to herself and replied, rather politely, “Samara Devereux, but you already knew that, didn’t you?”

Nott smirked. “Of course I did.”

They fell semi-silent after that and Samara returned to her book, trying to tune out Nott’s humming. After a while, she got lost in Hogwarts: A History, and Nott finally fell silent. It wasn’t until she looked up that she realised he’d fallen asleep.

And then the train jolted and Nott shot upright in his seat. “There you are, Alex,” said a voice from the doorway right at that moment. Both her and Nott looked towards the door. Scorpius Malfoy stood in it, leaning against one side of it. Behind him, stood another boy Samara didn’t know. He said something to Scorpius in a very low voice and disappeared down the hall. Scorpius turned his attention back to Alexander Nott. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” And then he spied her. “Do I know you?”

“My name is Samara Devereux. You may have seen me at some family gatherings.” Samara’s gaze narrowed. She knew he wasn’t normally this talkative, but he was mostly speaking to Nott, who had shifted slightly to make room for the blonde boy, who took that as his cue to enter the compartment and sit down.

Samara didn’t know what to do or say, now that they were both sitting across from her. As it turned out, she didn’t need to do or say anything. Scorpius turned to Nott and the pair began discussing things in semi-low voices, like they didn’t care if she heard them or not.

“Did you see that Weasley girl?” Nott asked, grinning--Samara could see that over the top of her book. He leaned in closer to the Malfoy boy, who was frowning. “Come on, Scorp, I’m sure you have.”

“Rose Weasley, you mean?” Scorpius asked and Nott nodded enthusiastically. “Eh, she’s nothing new. We talked once at Aunt Daphne’s. She seemed...nice.”

Alexander Nott looked at him as if he was mad, and Samara had to repress a giggle--or several--that threatened to slip out. But Scorpius just gazed back until Nott coughed and looked away, muttering, “I’m sure she was...” under his breath. If Scorpius heard him, he didn’t comment.

Samara frowned as the boys went quiet and again, she returned to her book, only peering over it every now and then to check on them. In fact, she was so lost in her book that she didn’t even hear the lady pushing the trolley stop by, nor did she hear her leave or hear the boys dive into less awkward conversation. It wasn’t until the train was jolted again that she tore herself away from her book--to find that both boys now had their blank Hogwarts robes on and were deep into conversation about which House they were going to be in. They both thought they’d be in Slytherin. Samara didn’t tell them, but she thought she would be Slytherin, too.

“Are we there?” she asked, making both Nott and Malfoy take notice of her. She was already wearing her school robes, so she didn’t need to change. It was the first thing she’d done while she was waiting to get on the train with her parents. Nott scowled at her, but Malfoy nodded. A glance out the window showed her that she was right--it was getting dark, and she could see lamplight up ahead. “Well, that answers that question.”

She swung her legs off her trunk and stood, followed closely by Nott and Malfoy, and made for the door, clutching her cat to her chest with one arm. She wandered down the hallway as the train slowed to a stop, well aware of the two boys following right on her heels, until she reached a door and hopped out onto the platform. A tall man--very tall, in fact--stood off to one side, lantern in hand. It was held high above their heads. Samara stared.

He was calling for first years, she noticed. “I guess that means me,” she muttered, and heard a vague agreement from the two boys who were still following her. She chose to ignore them as she wandered over to the giant man. Of course, they decided to follow her. As she lingered by the man, she looked about. Several others joined her and the two boys--including the Potter boy, some Weasleys and the boy she’d seen with Scorpius earlier--the one who had walked away from her compartment. He stood on the far side of Scorpius and Alexander, who were discussing some party they’d been to the week before.

Samara decided to go back to reading her book, half-listening to the giant man call for first years again, and then he mentioned something about boats, so she looked up. The giant man was shepherding them off towards a narrow, well-worn path. It was dark and she couldn’t see very well, and everyone was quiet, but she followed the man none-the-less, and eventually, the path opened out onto a lake. Her father had told her about this before, but she never thought it’d look so pretty. She loved it immediately.

Several small boats were floating just on the edge of the lake--she could see the lanterns hanging from the long posts at the bow of the boats. And beyond them, she could see the castle; all lit up like her family’s tree at Christmas. She grinned and climbed into a boat, listening to the man warn them about there only being four to each one. Samara decided she could deal with that, and was thoroughly surprised when a young, red-haired girl--a Weasley, by the looks of it--climbed into her boat, followed by the Potter boy and Malfoy, of all people. Nott and the other boy climbed into the one next to them, along with another Weasley girl and some boy she didn’t know.

“Hi!” exclaimed the girl, “I’m Rose Weasley. It’s nice to meet you...?”

“Samara Devereux,” Samara said and rolled her eyes. She snapped her book shut, shoving it into a pocket. No one seemed to notice that. “Nice to meet you.” She turned to the Potter boy. “You’re a Potter, right?”

“Albus,” he muttered, sniffing. Samara thought he looked a little upset. The boat began to move forwards and he grabbed onto the edge to stay upright. “Albus Potter. Rose is my cousin.”

Samara glanced towards the Weasley girl, but didn’t comment. In fact, Malfoy cut her off. “Scorpius Malfoy,” he said, nodding. “Dad said to be nice to you.” He shrugged, as if it was nothing. But it made Albus and Rose smile, just a little. Samara was content to just stay quiet and watch. “I thought it couldn’t hurt.”

Rose laughed. “I knew I liked you,” she told him, grinning. “You were ever so polite at that party of your Aunt’s.” Samara glanced towards Scorpius and caught his surprised look. He blinked and it was gone. She thought that was interesting.

The four of them went quiet again as the boats glided across the water towards the Castle that was Hogwarts. Samara sighed and turned to stare at the dark water rushing past, dipping her fingers into the water and then jerking them out when she realised it was freezing cold. She shook her hand and caught sight of Scorpius staring at her, but he looked away when he noticed her watching him.

Samara blew on her fingers as the boats bumped up against stone and pebbles. Ahead of them, the giant man was already out and waiting for them. Samara and the other first years all clambered out of their boats and joined the giant man on the shore. He led them up a long flight of stairs and into a passageway. They followed the lamplight out onto grass and then up another, shorter flight of steps to stop before a pair of huge oak doors. The giant man checked on them before he turned to the doors and knocked.

It swung open slowly and a tall, dark haired man appeared. He wore green and silver on his robes and sneered at most of them, half-smiled at Nott, Malfoy and Samara and then turned on his heel. Samara stared at him. She knew who it was. She’d heard her father talking about him often enough.

“Professor Snape,” someone commented lowly and she turned to find Scorpius staring after the man as well. He blinked and glanced towards her. “Dad told me that he helped him.” Samara looked at him, as if waiting for him to elaborate, but Scorpius looked away and stepped past her into the hall they could now see beyond the doors.

She glanced about and shrugged, following Scorpius into the castle. Up ahead, she could see Snape. And he was limping. She decided that asking about that could wait and rushed to catch up with Malfoy. As curious as she was, she’d leave it be for now; there were more important things to be considering, like what house she’d be Sorted into, despite the fact that she figured it’d be Slytherin. She was only slightly surprised to find Rose and Albus keeping up with her, just a few feet in front of the others.

They followed Snape through the hall with the staircase and into another hall. This one was full of people--students, Samara realised quickly; excluding the table at the other end of the Great Hall. She noticed that that table was full of what appeared to be teachers. There were four other tables and from what she could tell, Slytherin was on her far left, Gryffindor on the far right with Hufflepuff next to the Gryffindor table and Ravenclaw between Hufflepuff and Slytherin. The house tables weren’t completely full, either. Snape stood on the steps before said table, a rolled up parchment in one hand. He was scowling at Samara and the rest of the first years, as though they’d kept him waiting.

She watched as he glanced towards the table behind him and the lady sitting in the middle of it with the glasses and stern expression. Samara had a feeling that this was their Headmistress; Professor McGonagall. Samara knew that this woman was the Headmistress. He father had complained often enough about the Headmistress of Hogwarts. She was a half-blood, or so Samara’s father said. Really, she didn’t see why he would be upset about that. Wasn’t her mother a Muggleborn witch? Samara blinked when she realised the woman had nodded and Snape and returned his attention to her and the rest of the first years.

“Welcome to Hogwarts,” Snape announced, his voice dripping with something Samara couldn’t name. He sounded none-too-pleased about speaking for McGonagall like he was. Samara couldn’t blame him, really. The Headmistress looked like a force to be reckoned with and she really didn’t want to find the woman angry with her for any reason. She switched her focus to Snape. “The Sorting Ceremony will begin shortly and we shall soon find out if you are in Slytherin, Gryffindor, Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff.” He snorted and tightened his hold on the parchment in his left hand. “Each house is unique, and you will soon find out which of them will suit you.”

Snape cast another glance towards McGonagall, who was giving him a stern look. Samara frowned but stayed still, instead glancing about towards the rest of the first years. Malfoy was frowning as well, and Potter was grinning like an idiot. The Weasley girl was giving Albus an annoyed look. Samara turned back to Snape again. There was a twitch in his left eyebrow as he broke McGonagall’s eye contact and focused on the students again. He looked highly annoyed now.

“In the meantime, we shall listen to the Sorting Hat sing.” Snape sneered as he said it and then stalked down the steps, somewhat elegantly despite the limp and over to one side of the group. He returned a moment later with a stool and a large, dirty and overly torn-and-repaired hat. Snape set the stool down in the middle of the space between the teacher’s table and the top step and then set the hat down on the stool. Samara stared at the hat as Snape straightened up and took a few steps away from the hat. He glanced at McGonagall before grimacing and turning to face the hall. Everyone seemed to be focused on the hat now; Samara noticed that when she glanced about. She turned back to it as well, waiting. Expecting...she didn’t know what, but definitely not for the hat to split along a seam and start singing;

“In times of old, when I was new,

and Hogwarts barely built,

the Founders of our noble school

thought never to be spilt.

united by a common goal,

they shared a wish, a dream, a hope,

and hatched a daring pledge;

To make the world's best magic school

and pass along their knowledge, wisdom and intelligence.

So those Founders built and began to teach,

and thus Hogwarts School began.

You might belong in sly Slytherin,

those who are power-hungry and ambitious,

and cunning to the very end would do well set here;

Or perhaps good old Gryffindor,

where daring and nerve, and chivalry,

and a braveness far above the rest set them far apart

Or maybe you belong in noble Hufflepuff,

those who are just and loyal, and not afraid of toil,

who don’t exactly belong with the rest;

Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,

where wit and learning, and intelligence

are honoured high amongst the best;

Yet there is more to come and not too late, it seems,

so now, listen here and closely to this last because it’s true;

There’s danger abound in our beloved school

but not for many years as he’s not yet grown,

so watch and listen, learn your best

for we must unite inside her in the end

or we'll crumble from within;

I have told you, I have warned you...

now let the Sorting begin.’

Samara caught, from the corner of her eyes, McGonagall sending Snape a startled look before she gave the hat an even dark one. She frowned, glancing between the hat, Snape and the Headmistress. What was that last bit supposed to mean? Samara really didn’t know, but she’d heard the rest of the song and figured she understood it.

Snape cleared his throat and snapped out the parchment in his hands, holding it and sneering at it. He moved a few steps closer to the Hat and flung out his robes before settling and studying the parchment in front of him. Samara watched him closely, and then glanced towards the Headmistress. McGonagall seemed to be giving Snape a stern look, not that the man would see it, that is. Snape, seemingly oblivious to the Headmistress’s attention, raised his head.

“When I call out your name,” he began, his voice loud in the nearly silent room, “you will approach the stool and take a seat.” Samara had thought he’d speak quietly, like he’d done before. Apparently, this was deemed important enough for him to nearly shout. “I will then place the Sorting Hat on your head, and you will be sorted into a house.” He cast a glance over the group of first years before his eyes dropped to the parchment. Samara realised it was a list of names. “Zabini, Aloisia!”

A timid little girl with dark skin and dark hair hurried up the steps. Snape picked up the hat. Samara watched her as she sat down and the hat was placed on her head. There was silence for a long moment before the seam opened and the hat bellowed, “RAVENCLAW!”

Aloisia flinched at the volume and waited until Snape had the hat off her head before she skittered down the steps and over to the table next to the very quiet Slytherin one, the table that was clapping like mad. After a moment, the clapping died down and silence resumed. Samara watched as a few people gave Aloisia Zabini pats on the back and smiles before she turned back to face Snape as he called for “Weasley, Lucy,” and then “Weasley, Rose.”

Lucy Weasley went to Hufflepuff while her cousin, Rose Weasley, went to Gryffindor. She watched as both girls were welcomed into their houses before she heard a “Tyrell, Alice,” being called for. Samara turned back just in time to see Snape put the hat on the red-haired girl’s head. She waited for the hat to shout which house the girl would be in and frowned. What was taking so long?

“SLYTHERIN!”

Alice Tyrell hopped off the stool, handed the hat back to Snape and skipped off down the steps towards the Slytherin table. Samara didn’t bother looking to see if she was accepted; she kept her gaze on Snape and the look in his eyes. His face betrayed nothing, but his eyes seemed delighted. Samara didn’t know what to make of the man.

“Selwyn, Allen!”

The platinum-blonde-haired boy who jogged up the steps was familiar, in a way. Samara realised she’d seen him on platform nine-and-three-quarters before she boarded the train. He’d been talking to someone on the platform. Someone Samara was sure wasn’t a parent or a member of his family, considering the fact that the man was tall with dark hair and dark eyes. Now, she realised, Allen Selwyn was probably a pureblood orphan. It didn’t happen often, but it did happen. She pitied him somewhat, for growing up outside of the usual spheres of pureblood influence.

Allen Selwyn took a seat, glancing at Snape as he did so. Samara thought she saw the man’s expression soften but it was gone as soon as he set the hat on Selwyn’s head. There was a long moment of silence before the hat bellowed, “GRYFFINDOR!” and Selwyn jumped. He got up as soon as the hat was off his head and trotted over to the table of students causing an uproar of yells and whistles, as well as clapping. Samara thought Selwyn looked disappointed. Snape certainly did.

“Rosencrans, Isis,” was next. She was a pretty little black-haired girl with bright, pale-blue eyes. She went to Gryffindor as well.

Snape actually flinched as he read the next name out; “Prince, Quintus.”

The boy who approached the stairs looked a lot like Snape, with his black hair and pale skin, but his eyes were pale hazel-green rather than Snape’s black gaze. Samara didn’t know why, but she thought Quintus might be related to Snape, though she didn’t know how. There had never been any mentions of Snape having children by her father, and definitely not anything in any of the papers. She was confused, but she’d leave it be until later—much later. Quintus was up next to the stool, and he was looking from the stool to the hat in Snape’s hand and back again. Snape seemed to say something to him quietly before Quintus Prince shook his head and the hat was put on his head. They didn’t have to wait long for his house.

“SLYTHERIN!”

Snape looked incredibly relieved as he took the hat off the boy’s head and watched as Quintus Prince skulked down the steps and over to the quietly clapping Slytherin table. Samara watched Snape’s face a moment longer before turning to consider Quintus where he sat at the Slytherin table. She shook her head and turned back as Snape cleared he throat and read out the next name on the list.

“Potter, Albus.”

Dead silence. Samara glanced about, noting the way everyone was staring at the dark-haired boy who now climbed the steps and sat on the stool. Snape placed the hat on the boy’s head and waited, his expression falling into a scowl. Samara shifted from one foot to the next, unsure of what she was waiting for. And then the hat boomed; “SLYTHERIN!”

Snape’s face had gone blank. He took the hat off the boy’s head like he was set for automatic. Albus sat on the stool for a long minute before he got up and headed over to the table that looked like it was in shock. Samara felt she could understand; a Potter had never been placed in Slytherin house before. As far as Samara knew, anyway, so she was surprised by this, very surprised.

“Paine, Vanessa!”

“SLYTHERIN!”

Samara sighed, listening to the names as they were called put. Vanessa Paine was a pretty girl with brown hair and dark skin. Samara didn’t make a note of much else as she waited for the next name, her gaze on Snape as he stood there with the parchment in one hand and the hat in the other. He was reading the list and sneering again.

“Ollivander, Gweneth!”

“RAVENCLAW!”

“Nott, Alexander,” went to Slytherin. Samara had spoken to him on the train, and now she really hoped she was in anything but Slytherin, but she knew she’d end up there anyway. A majority of her family had ended up there. She sighed and waited for the next one on the list. “Moon, Lilura”—she went to Hufflepuff. Samara watched the girl go. Lilura Moon seemed to be a strange one. Samara hoped she wouldn’t have to talk to the girl often.

“Malfoy, Scorpius,” Snape called, looking up from the parchment he’d been reading. Samara watched as Scorpius Malfoy approached the steps and the Professor, moving a little slowly. The blonde boy finally reached the stool and took his seat. Snape had a strange look on his face as he placed the hat on Malfoy’s head and waited. He didn’t have to wait long for the hat to name a house;

“SYLTHERIN!”

Scorpius hopped off the stool, took the hat off his head and handed it back to Snape before he skittered off down the steps and over to the Slytherin table to take a seat beside Nott. Nott was grinning like an idiot. Both boys turned to look at her. Samara snorted and turned back to Snape. The Professor was studying the list again, hat dangling from his hand.

The Lynch twins were next; a girl and a boy. “Lynch, Brair,” went to Hufflepuff and his sister, “Lynch, Blair,” went to Ravenclaw. There was a Kinnear and a Kincade next. Kinnear went to Gryffindor while Kincade went to Slytherin. Then there was a “Jewell, Ainsley,” who was sent to Hufflepuff. Samara had a feeling Jewell and Moon would be great friends. “Holywell, Bran,” and “Grace, Cynthia,” both went to Ravenclaw while “Evans, Djordji,” went to Gryffindor. “Elphinstone, Arabella,” went to Slytherin. Samara had a feeling her name would be next, and she was right.

“Devereux, Samara!”

She jumped and then hurried forwards, up the stairs and over to the stool. Snape cast her a curious glance and waited for her to sit down on the stool before he placed the hat on her head. She didn’t know what she expected, but it definitely wasn’t the laughter that tickled her ear after several seconds of silence.

“Oh, a Devereux?” a voice said, and Samara realised it was the hat speaking to her. “Why, I haven’t seen a Devereux in years. How long has it been? Nearly thirty years?” There was a chuckle and Samara flinched. She didn’t like the hat very much. “Oh, you’re an interesting one.”

“Not Slytherin,” she whispered to it and the hat snorted, “anything but Slytherin.”

“Not Slytherin? Anything but Slytherin, eh?” the hat asked and then it seemed to sigh. “Oh, but you’d fit in so well there, Miss Devereux.”

Samara froze and squeezed her eyes shut. She really didn’t want to be in Slytherin. She wasn’t anything like what a Slytherin was meant to be like. Samara didn’t want to be like her father or the Dark Lord or any of the dark wizards she’d encountered at her father’s stupid parties and balls. The hat laughed at her.

“No, no,” it said and Samara swore it sounded like it was grinning. “You’re perfectly suited for this house; you hide things, you’re cunning and sly, and you know just how to get what you want. I know exactly where to put you, and you may not like it, but this is where you shall feel most at home, and this is where you will be needed, in due time.” There was a long pause, and Samara didn’t know what it was doing or what to say in reply to what it had told her, and then the hat sighed again. “Slytherin is not as evil as you may think, Miss Devereux.” She waited a moment and wasn’t surprised when the hat shouted, “SLYTHERIN!”

She sat there for a long moment, not even noticing when Snape took the hat off her head, staring blankly at the crowded hall. Eventually, she blinked and got up, shaking her head and walking slowly down the steps and over to the Slytherin table. She took a seat beside the Tyrell girl, not wanting to be near Nott or Malfoy, and began to pick at the empty plate on the table, spinning it around in place. Tyrell tried to talk to her, but she didn’t want to talk. Eventually, Tyrell gave up and turned to back towards Snape when he called out another name, this time it was “Corners, Mitchell,” who was sorted into Ravenclaw, and then “Bones, Elizabeth,” sorted into Hufflepuff, and then another set of twins, “Blackwood, Elianna,” and “Blackwood, Evander.” Elianna was sorted into Ravenclaw and Evander into Gryffindor. And then that left just one more first year standing in front of the house tables, in the space between the tables and the stairs that led up to the stool.

Snape stood next to the stool, hat in hand as he stared at the parchment in his hand. He glanced up to see the only person still waiting for their name to be called. Samara had seen him on the train. He had been with Malfoy when the blonde had come looking for Nott. He’d also left before sharing his name. She watched him for a minute, wondering—and then Snape called his name;

“Angell, Nicholas.”

The boy brushed dark hair out of his face and strode up the steps slowly, and then over to the stool. He took his time, too, as he approached Snape and the stool and then took his seat, looking up at the Professor calmly. Snape stared back; his expression was blank like when Potter had been sorted into Slytherin. He seemed to be studying the Angell boy, and the Angell boy seemed to be studying him back. Samara watched the pair in silence along with the rest of the student body, and the teachers. Finally, Snape put the hat on Angell’s head and waited.

The sorting hat was silent for a very long time before it shouted; “SLYTHERIN!”

The Angell boy took the hat off as he stood up and offered it to Snape. Snape took it with a sneer and set it on the stool behind the boy. Nicholas Angell gave the Professor a sly smile and strode off down the steps and over to the Slytherin table. Samara looked down the table as he sat, noting that he joined Malfoy and Nott several seats down. She looked away, towards Snape, who still stood beside the stool. He’d rolled up the parchment again and was eyeing the hat with what seemed to be a thoughtful look. Samara watched as he waved his wand, causing the stool and the hat to vanish, and then the man took a seat on McGonagall’s left, speaking to the woman in a low voice. Samara went back to her empty plate as McGonagall rose from her seat. If she replied to whatever Snape had said, Samara didn’t see it.

“Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts,” the Headmistress announced, taking a moment to give each house a considering look. “Before we begin the banquet, there are a few things you need to know.” She narrowed her gaze as she took in the four houses. “First; please remember that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all students.” She seemed to be giving a pair of twins sitting over at Hufflepuff table a stern look as she said that. Samara noticed that one of the twins wore Slytherin colours while the other wore Hufflepuff. She glanced back at the Headmistress, whose gaze seemed to say, ‘I’m looking at you two, boys’. “Secondly; there is a corridor in the dungeons that is off-limits. Please refrain from exploring it.” The Headmistress nodded to herself and then added something about Quidditch trails being held during second term, and not using magic in the corridors between classes. Then she clapped her hands. “Let the feast begin.”

Samara turned back to her plate, watching the food appear all down the table. She helped herself to the food just as the Tyrell girl laughed loudly and piled her plate high with food. Samara glanced towards the other girl and gave her a look of disgust as Tyrell shoved food into her mouth. She snorted as Tyrell only stopped shoving food into her mouth to slurp at the pumpkin juice in her goblet. “Must you be so disgusting when you eat?” Samara asked snidely, giving the Tyrell girl an annoyed look.

Tyrell paused, her goblet half lowered towards the table. Samara kept her gaze annoyed but level as they stared at each other. She watched as Tyrell slowly put her goblet down. “Do you have to be so stuck up all the time?” she shot back, making Samara’s gaze narrow. “Honestly, I heard you on the train. You sound like a snob. Heck, most of you purebloods are.”

She blinked. “Excuse me?” Samara asked, startled. She wasn’t a snob, she wasn’t a pureblood. By now, Samara realised, they had the attention of several other Slytherins. Samara sent them a look that clearly told them to stay out of it. “I am not a snob!” Tyrell snorted at that before fixing Samara with an annoyed look. Samara flinched. “I am not a pureblood,” she hissed, leaning closer to the other girl. “Do not judge someone based solely on their last name!”

They stared each other down for a long moment before Samara sighed and shook her head. Tyrell raised an eyebrow at the action and picked up the goblet of pumpkin juice. Samara watched as the other girl took a sip and then set the goblet down again. Tyrell said nothing as she turned back to her plate and began to pick at the food on it. Samara exhaled carefully and brushed her hand over the book in her pocket, and then over where her wand was.

“Look,” she began and Tyrell glanced at her. “I think we’ve gone about this wrong.”

“Oh?”

“I’m sorry for calling your manners disgusting.” Samara bit her lip, trying to think of how to put the next bit. Tyrell was looking at her now, he eyes narrowed. It was almost like she didn’t trust Samara. “My name is Samara. You can call me Sam.”

“Alice Tyrell,” Tyrell said, smiling slightly. “You can call me Alice. Apology accepted, by the way.”

Samara inclined her head slight and offered the other girl a hand. Tyrell—Alice—took it and they shook briefly. “Friends?” Samara offered, smiling at the girl and waiting. Tyrell smiled back a little wider and nodded. Samara waited for the other girl to let go first before she withdrew her hand and turned towards her plate and began to pick at her food.

“Friends,” Tyrell confirmed and together they settled in for the feast.