Alessandra Vitale's life has always been filled with unicorns, cupcakes, and roses. Quite literally.
Playboys, Death Eaters, and Imperius curses were certain additions she did not expect in her sixth year of Hogwarts.
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4.SLYTHERIN PRIDE
"We are here."
I get down after Lucius without taking his outstretched hand.
I had tried the full ride to make sense of what I saw but to no avail. It couldn't be a memory; I had never seen the girl in my life. But I would recognize my manor house anywhere. The familiar grass and the oak wood trees looking out to the sand of the beach. I was only sure of one thing. It was my house.
I had seen pictures of Hogwarts in "Hogwarts: A History," but to be standing in front of it was a whole other story altogether. My face was filled with awe as I looked around the castle, my eyes craving to take it all in. The castle was pretty much silent. Lucius and I must be the first ones to arrive.
I eye the ring on Lucius's finger as we walk through the main oak doors leading to the entrance hall. It must have been the ring. I had my hand on it when the vision started. But why didn't it affect Lucius? Maybe if I could just touch the ring again.
I slowly reach my hand out to grab his while we walked on, Lucius absentmindedly talking about his new Head Boy responsibilities. My fingers were inches from his when he stops, and I look up to come face to face with a stone gargoyle.
"Lucius Malfoy, Head Boy bringing Alessandra Valice to meet Dumbledore before the feast as per instructions," he says confidently, eye to eye with the gargoyle as if the gargoyle was Dumbledore himself.
The gargoyle moves to the side, and the door opens to reveal a circular staircase, from the top of which a soft light glow is emitted.
Lucius turns to me, "I will save you a seat at the Slytherin table."
"What makes you so sure I am going to be sorted into Slytherin?" I was generally intrigued.
Of course, my whole family had been in Slytherin... well, except my mother who was a very proud Gryffindor. Making her the first Aristide to not be sorted into Slytherin. I remember her telling me her parents didn't mail her for months after they found out. I had been shocked when she told me the story. She was eleven, and it was her first year. It was one of the reasons her relationship with her parents has always been shaky.
"Your a pureblood, and almost your entire family has been in Slytherin. You can't join those Muggle-born filled and Muggle-loving houses," he said, his disgust plain on his face when he mentioned Muggles.
Of course, I had expected that answer. I was used to the Muggle hate. Everyone in my family except my parents believed that blood status was the most important thing in the world. My father used to be one of them. I couldn't really blame him. He grew up with it. He was told since he was born that Muggles were awful. Growing up in a pureblood household wasn't easy. Abuse was common. I had seen enough of it to know. The whip marks across my cousin's body, carefully hidden but sometimes seen when he moved at particular angles. Parents talking to their children in cold tones. Even the tiniest children who should be laughing, running, and playing hide and seek behind the Christmas tree were always seated quietly with their backs straight and not moving during Christmas banquets, only talking when talked to. I always pitied Lucius because of it and tried to look at the good in him. Not everyone was as strong as my mother who rebelled against all of it.
