Actually it could have been a great place with the roaring flames in a fireplace so huge three adult men could easily stand in it, flickering torches along the walls and the green-silver carpets and the mahogany closets and desks and bookshelves and the green upholstered chairs and sofas. Whoever had decorated the room, had not only spent a great amount of money out owned a highly developed sense of style. Nevertheless the room was far away from being cozy or inviting. Something forbidding seem to hang over it, something which made it impossible to laugh loudly in it and so even the group of young girls who had gathered in the chairs around a table near the entrance didn't chat with giggles and noises like other children t age age, but spoke quietly, their faces serious and their heads bent as if they'd share secrets for no one to hear.
The group directly in front of the fireplace didn't show so much restraint. One of the boys, a tall 16 year old, loitered on the sofa, his black robe crumpled, and his tie half open. His head lay in the lap of a blonde girl who played with a look of possessiveness in his long, gold brown curls. Another boy, around 15, blond, with a swallow face and cold gray eyes, leaned at the mantelpiece, his fingers playing lazily with the moving stone snakes there. Next in a chair sat a long legged 16 year old with thick black hair falling in his dark face. On his robe stuck just over the green-silver crest with the snake a button with the letter 'P'. A heavy book lay in his lap and he was taking notes by reading. But he nevertheless noticed the flickering of the torches as an arch in the wall opened and a bony, raven-haired boy in black robes entered the room.
The group at the mantelpiece fell silent immediately, all their eyes directed on the pale little boy who hurried through the room to the archway on the opposite side without raising his head.
"Just leave him alone!" The boy with the book in his lap looked up to his friends warningly.
They didn't listen to him. The one at the fireplace sneered maliciously and said loud enough for all inhabitants of the room to hear it: "Look, look we're once again honored with the presence of the heroes 'heir.'"
The boy who'd almost arrived at his destination turned around. Directing his azure blue eyes to the fireplace, he said with a firm and clear voice: "I've got as much right to be here as you, Parkinson."
"This was what we've just discussed," said the girl on the sofa. "And you'll like to learn that you've got an advocate for your case in Zabini. He thinks that your Slytherin fathers ' whoever it was who really sired you' make up for your mudblood mother."
Now the boy on the sofa raised his head. Sounding bored he added: "Probably she could be made an honorary Slytherin despite her mudblood. I mean she obviously was able to fool Slytherins. Or did your nominal father know about your mother fucking Snape, Dumbledore? What do you think?"
In Leontes Dumbledore's pale face no muscle twitches. Only his eyes became small as he slowly said: "I think I should hex you, Lestrange."
The brown haired boy on the sofa stared at him, and then he started to laugh. "Well, well, little boy tell me the date you'll be ready for it and I'll be there in 10 or 20 years or whenever you're ready to fight."
"I am ready." Leontes had his wand out already. Raising it over his head with the tip in the direction of the group at the fireplace, he yelled: 'Expelliarmus' 'stupefy!' Parkinson's, Zabini's and Lestrange's wands sailed through the Slytherin common room and became caught in Leontes right hand. Only Belladonna Malfoy kept her wand, but only because she'd been slower than the boys and the 'stupefy' had got her as she'd just fumbled her wand out of her sleeve.
The common room fell deadly silent now. The first year girls on the table at the entrance had ducked, the third years playing chess in the corner didn't dare to move, but only stared at Leontes who walked now to the fireplace, his back erect, the chin up and a cold fire in his blue eyes. Looking at his four stunned victims, he smiled an icy smile. "I am Albus Dumbledore's son but pity for you: It was Severus Snape who taught me dueling. So don't you ever dare bad mouth my mother again!" He directed his wand on Lestrange on the sofa and murmured a spell. Without waiting for the effect he looked at the girl. "And you" Casting another jinx, he turned to Parkinson who still learned at the mantelpiece. Leontes seemed to consider how to hex him as a cold voice commanded: "Expelliarmus!" Now it was four wands sailing through the room, getting caught by a bony brunette in dark green robes. She'd come through a hole in the wall which closed behind her as she stepped down the four steps to the fireplace. With an 'enervate' she made the four stunned Slytherins move again and looked at them with an academic interest. And the sight was worth looking at: Lestrange immediately clutched his hands over his mouth, but couldn't avoid soap bubbles coming out and floating through the room. His girlfriend had both her hands on her face too, but she didn't bubble, but screamed shrilly.
