The Malfoy Project

𝟔𝟓 - 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐮𝐟𝐟𝐥𝐞𝐩𝐮𝐟𝐟 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬

A/N: The following two chapters are a short character study of Hannah Abbott and her relationship with Ainsley. I've split it into two parts as I was afraid the chapter would be too long. You can skip it if you want, but I thought it would be interesting to examine Hannah's personality, and why she is the way she is (i.e. how she became known as the 'school slut', and why she feels the need to compete for Draco's affections).  

She and Ernie will play a bigger part in advancing the subplot of Ainsley and Montague from here on, which does merge with the larger overall storyline :)  

Again, if you've stayed this long into the book, thank you. You have no idea how grateful I am for your continued support and readership. The comments have gone a little quiet recently, so if there's anything that can be improved, please let me know — I'd love to hear more from you guys! ❤️🌹

༻❁༺

     Hannah had a sister. Her name was Grace Abbott, but she preferred to be called Gracie. I remember because it was the first thing she ever said to me.

    I had sat across from her at the Hufflepuff table after the Sorting Ceremony. "I'm Hannah Abbott," she said through a mouthful of roast. "I have a sister, Grace, but she prefers Gracie. She's only nine, so she'll only be coming in two years."

     After dinner, she had pressed herself to my side while we walked back to the dormitories. "Silly me," she said. "I realised I never asked your name." When I told her, and she had laughed, as if I'd just told a joke. "Geh-bree-ellah," she repeated, opening her mouth wide as she rolled my name on her tongue, which annoyed me greatly.

     When my mother said my name, it was always soft and mellifluous. But Hannah made it sound ugly and bitter, like a herb or a kind of sauce that was so overly-vinegary it made the sides of your jaw hurt. I decided then that I would henceforth be known only as Ainsley. 

     That evening's interaction — which mostly consisted of Hannah talking and Susan and me listening —  seemed to be, to Hannah, a mutual agreement of friendship. From then on, wherever I went, she wanted to come too. Even on days when I had just wanted to spend the afternoon in the library, she would see me preparing to leave and scramble to put her shoes on. "I'll come with!" she'd announce, rather than ask.

     In the library, she'd watch as I searched the shelves; hum as I transferred poems from book page to loose parchment. When she decided that we'd both spent more than enough time there, she'd cough to get my attention and suggest another activity. "What do you say we go to watch Quidditch practice?" or, if it was the weekend, "Want to go shopping? I thought of sending Gracie some sweets."

     Hannah introduced Gracie prematurely to nearly everybody she met, reciting the same words she had to me: "She prefers Gracie. She's only nine, so she'll only be coming in two years." Sometimes, the suffixations would differ. It would be "she's much prettier than me, though", or "you have to remember to call her Gracie and not Grace, or she'll be cross", or "I sure hope she'll be in Hufflepuff with me, though I reckon she might get sorted to Ravenclaw 'cause she's much smarter than me". And then she would giggle girlishly, proving her point.

     She did this often: giggle girlishly. As she got older and grew into her uniform, she would push her arms together while doing so, mostly when we were in the company of boys. And oh, how they stared! It was quite amusing, really. They'd be frowning with such an effort to focus on what she was saying and trying so hard not to let their gaze wander downwards that their eyes would literally start to water.