THE DESCENDANT OF SLYTHERIN

CHAPTER 9 : MUDBLOOD MALFOY

LAIA POV

Lockhart reminds me of my Muggle teachers, who don't know anything but act like they know everything. Poor Hermione still believes him. Me, Harry, Ron, and Hermione were planning to visit Hagrid on Saturday morning. But Harry had an unplanned Quidditch practice, so Ron, Hermione, and I took breakfast for Harry and waited in the stands.

"Aren't you finished yet?" called Ron incredulously.

"Haven't even started," said Harry, "Wood's been teaching us new moves."

While they were practicing, Colin took pictures. The Slytherin Quidditch team, led by Draco Malfoy, came to the ground. Wood shot toward them, landing rather harder than he meant to in his anger, staggering slightly as he dismounted. Harry, Fred, and George followed. As expected, they created a huge scene. Ron, Hermione, and I approached them.

"Flint!" Wood bellowed at the Slytherin Captain. "This is our practice time! We got up early for this! You can clear off now!"

Marcus Flint was even larger than Wood, with a look of trollish cunning on his face as he replied, "Plenty of room for all of us, Wood."

Angelina, Alicia, and Katie had also come over. There were no girls on the Slytherin team, who stood shoulder to shoulder, facing the Gryffindors, leering at them.

"But I booked the field!" said Wood, positively spitting with rage. "I booked it!"

"Ah," said Flint. "But I've got a specially signed note here from Professor Snape. 'I, Professor S. Snape, give the Slytherin team permission to practice today on the Quidditch field owing to the need to train their new Seeker.'"

"You've got a new Seeker?" said Wood, distracted. "Where?"

And from behind the six large figures before them came a seventh, smaller boy, smirking all over his pale, pointed face. It was Draco Malfoy.

"Aren't you Lucius Malfoy's son?" said Fred, looking at Malfoy with dislike.

"Funny you should mention Draco's father," said Flint as the whole Slytherin team smiled even more broadly. "Let me show you the generous gift he's made to the Slytherin team."

All seven of them held out their broomsticks. Seven highly polished, brand new handles and seven sets of fine gold lettering spelling the words Nimbus Two Thousand and One gleamed under the Gryffindors' noses in the early morning sun. "The very latest model. Only came out last month," said Flint carelessly, flicking a speck of dust from the end of his own.

"I believe it outstrips the old Two Thousand series by a considerable amount. As for the old Cleansweeps" — he smiled nastily at Fred and George, who were both clutching Cleansweep Fives — "it sweeps the board with them." Malfoy was smirking so broadly his cold eyes were reduced to slits. "Oh, look," said Flint. "A field invasion."

"So, Malfoy needs his father to bribe his way onto the team. How great," I said.

"Black, I've already clarified with you, I think, that you have no right to talk about fathers, since you've never seen one."

"Stop picking on her, Malfoy. You're just changing the topic because you know she's right. At least no one on the Gryffindor team had to buy their way in," said Hermione sharply. "They got in on pure talent."

The smug look on Malfoy's face flickered. "No one asked your opinion, you filthy little Mudblood," he spat.

Flint had to dive in front of Malfoy to stop Fred and George from jumping on him. Alicia shrieked, "How dare you!" Ron plunged his hand into his robes, pulled out his wand, yelled, "You'll pay for that one, Malfoy!" and pointed it furiously at Malfoy's face.

A loud bang echoed around the stadium, and a jet of green light shot out of the wrong end of Ron's wand, hitting him in the stomach and sending him reeling backward onto the grass.

"Ron! Ron! Are you all right?" squealed Hermione. Ron opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. Instead, he gave an almighty belch, and several slugs dribbled out of his mouth onto his lap.

The Slytherin team was paralyzed with laughter. Flint was doubled up, hanging onto his new broomstick for support. Malfoy was on all fours, banging the ground with his fist. The Gryffindors gathered around Ron, who kept belching large, glistening slugs. Nobody seemed to want to touch him.

"We'd better get him to Hagrid's; it's nearest," said Harry to Hermione, who nodded bravely, and the pair of them pulled Ron up by the arms. "Laia, come with us," called Harry.

"I need to be alone, please, guys. Don't follow me."

The best I could do was turn around and run blindly to the Black Lake. "Why, Percy? Can't you be stronger than this?" I finally stopped at the Black Lake and sat down, looking at the water. Water somehow calms me. I felt someone sit next to me. Without turning around, I knew who it was.

"I want to be alone."

"I know. I won't disturb you. You carry on."

I knew I couldn't change his mind, so I just stayed silent. After a while, I knew I wanted to talk.

"You think I'm a coward, don't you?" He took my hand and said.

"Look at me," I said. "Look at me, Laia Black." I obeyed him and looked into his grey eyes.

"You aren't a coward. No matter what. I don't know what happened, but you aren't a coward. I never will think like that. You are my hero, such a brave girl I've ever seen. So, bravey, tell me, do you want to talk about it?" I nodded. "What happened?"

I did as he said. I rephrased everything. "I don't know why I'm acting like that. Whenever he brings up my father, I'm stunned. I can't reply. I mean, my godfather is with me whenever I needed my father, but I can't stand it when someone asks about my father."

"It's alright. I'm not going to take my words back. You are strong, Laia. Just let it out. There's nothing wrong with crying. Showing our weakness makes us strong."

After a while, I got up and said, "I need to check on Ron. His hex backfired, and Hermione, we'll meet this evening."

"Sure. And about the Quidditch tryout, I made it. I'm Team Seeker now."

"Wow, Cas, I told you you'd get this. Congrats."

"I want you to see my first match. Will you?"

"Why not? I'm your first fan, remember? I'll be in the first stand."

"See you soon."

With that, I made it to Hagrid's hut, knocked, and Hagrid opened the door.

"Laia, are you alright, dear? Come inside." I got in.

"I'm sorry, guys. I should've been with you," but I stopped when I got tackled by Hermione.

"Are you okay? Please don't lie."

"Actually, I was not okay. Now, okay. It's just, I've never seen my father. My parents aren't married. I don't know anything about him. He's lost at sea, that's all I know. But Gabe and the kids at Muggle school bully me with that. So, it's a sensitive topic. I don't know what to do then."

"Laia, we are with you. Calm down," I nodded. "Hermione, are you alright? He's such a brat to call you that."

"I know, Laia. Don't worry."

"And Ron, you are such a hero back there. That was impressive."

When we got back to the castle, Professor McGonagall gave Harry and Ron detention on their first day.

"You will be polishing the silver in the trophy room with Mr. Filch," said Professor McGonagall. "And no magic, Weasley — elbow grease."

Ron gulped. Argus Filch, the caretaker, was loathed by every student in the school.

"And you, Potter, will be helping Professor Lockhart answer his fan mail," said Professor McGonagall. "Oh no — Professor, can't I go and do the trophy room, too?" said Harry desperately.

"Certainly not," said Professor McGonagall, raising her eyebrows. "Professor Lockhart requested you specifically. Eight o'clock sharp, both of you."