Harry Potter Next Generation: Family Legacy

Chapter Thirty: Expelliarmus! (Hazel)

 I stared at the Slytherin notice board. The green, murky light of the common room made things extremely dark and hard to read, something I loved and my father hated. On a piece of white parchment, it said the following in hastily written instructions: Dumbledore's Army: A club for instruction of dueling, attack and defense spells. Open to all students in the Ravenclaw, Gryffindor, Hufflepuff... There was a small and squeezed word written after Hufflepuff... and Slytherin. Starts at 7:30 in the Room of Requirement every Wednesday. Sign below.

I exhaled, reading the sign. It was so obvious how whoever wrote it either forgot the Slytherin house or plain didn't want them there.

Sounds cool, though, I thought. Could always use a curse or two. I reached into my robe to search for a quill, then my eyes flashed back to the first two words. Racking my brains, I tried to remember where I had heard the term before.

"Dumbledore's Army," I muttered. I drew my hand out of my robe pocket and rested it on a green chair sitting behind me. "Oh!" Dad had told Scorpius and I, a long time ago, about how the Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws joined together to create an illegal club where they learned hexes and whatnot. They had left the Slytherins out because they hated us, just like the hate us still.

A large, bulky shape slithered it's way in front of me."Are you going to sign up, Malfoy?" Nott asked. The other first year had already procured a quill of his own, and with a flourish, signed his name in large letters on the sign-up sheet.

"Of course I am," I snapped. I plucked his quill out of his fingers and quickly signed H. Malfoy on the parchment. Tossing the brown and black feather to my housemate, I added," I'll beat you there. I'm way better at spells than you could ever be, Nott."

The boy flashed a cocky grin. "You say that. Then when you're in the hospital wing, begging for it to end because I beat you so badly, we can resume this little conversation." He stalked away, then turned a grinned at me. I nodded at him.

Slytherins had a tendency to have small arguments with their housemates. Not because we were all mean or anything, but because we all wanted to be better.

Although, I added silently, I don't need to justify that because I am better. I snorted at myself, and surveyed the common room.

Hershel, my Quidditch captain waved me over from across the room. "Malfoy!" he called. Reluctantly, I did some sort of cantering step towards him.

"I know about the match, Hershel," I said. "Kelvin and I have been working out our moves between classes."

The seventh-year nodded proudly. "But we're going against Hufflepuff,"—He sighed. —"again."

"Why are we playing them so much?" I asked.

"Ravenclaw got flattened in their last match, but Hufflepuff's been dominating in every single Quidditch match so far. We're the best team," he said defensively, sitting up straighter. "But you know the referees, they try to get Slytherin a foul every time the wind blows North."

"And your brother Scorpius is a great Seeker," he continued. I tilted my head and tucked a few strands of white blond ear behind my ear. "He catches the Snitch really fast. Now, I've already filled Howard in on this, but you two Beaters have a really important job on Saturday—"

"I thought the match was Sunday," I said. Hershel glanced at me, confused.

"No. It's always been on Saturday. Two days from now." I nodded, and he continued on his rant about the important jobs the Beaters had. "Now, if you see Scorpius really close to catching the Snitch, I want you to hit the nearest Bludger into the crowd."