I couldn’t have asked for a worse first class at Hogwarts. History of Magic was positively my least favorite, and held the longest streak of being my lowest grade. Potions and Herbology weren’t far behind, but History of Magic definitely took the cake. It was just so... boring. It was all old news. I understood the idea of learning history so it doesn’t repeat itself, but just found learning about previous occurrences absolutely trivial.
I walked into class with a fellow fifth year Gryffindor, Fay Dunbar. Fay had the bunk right beside mine in the dorms, so I had chatted a bit with her the night before. Fay seemed a nice enough girl. Mellow, friendly. A good type of person to get to know. A trustworthy person. We took a pair of seats towards the back of the class, where Fay proceeded to point at the back of people’s heads, giving their names and occasionally an opinion or two. A couple people stood out to me. Of course I recognized the pair I’d spoken to the previous night, Hermione and Ron. I also recognized Harry Potter, who was sitting with them, but I’d already known that Hogwarts was the school which the supposed “Chosen One” attended.
“We have Potions with the Slytherins next.” The girl said with obvious distaste. “I don’t even see why they let us have joint classes with them. Everyone knows our houses despise each other. They’re devil spawn. The lot of them.”
“Apparently, I keep getting hateful vibes from people towards them.” I said as Professor Binns called for attention.
Throughout History of Magic, Fay and I scooted a paper back and forth, conversing about the different houses and what Fay thought of certain people.
“You haven’t a clue how vile Snape is.” Fay was saying as we descended the stairs to the dungeons.
I felt something stir in my stomach, but played along. “Anyone who prefers to hold their class down here must be.” I muttered. “Good thing we’ve only got the class twice a week.”
“Twice a week is still often enough for mold to start growing in your lungs.” Fay replied, slipping into the classroom. I noticed as we walked in that most of the class was already present. “C’mon.” Fay mumbled, heading towards a spot towards the back that was only occupied by a pair of Gryffindor girls. Parvati and Lavender, I remembered. The girls both smiled at me as me and Fay approached.
“I hear this class is torture,” I remarked.
“Trust me, if Snape was allowed medieval torture devices, you’d probably be seeing them about the room.” Parvati replied, “If only to scare us.”
I shook my head, looking up to the front of the class at the man behind the teacher’s desk. My eyes trailed over to the opposite side of the classroom, noticing some new faces. I glanced at Fay, as if to ask if she were going to start ticking off names again, before turning back to the students of the other house.
My gaze drifted past a few of them, noting that half of them had a slightly arrogant look on their faces. Particularly a boy whose eyes I met. He seemed to survey me for a moment, not just taking in my appearance, but gauging my reaction to him, before looking away from me almost apathetically.
“She’s found Malfoy.” Lavender mentioned, drawing my attentions away.
“That’s him?” I inquired, glancing back at the blonde. “I could take him. Ron won’t be pleased when I win the bet.”
Fay groaned and Parvati asked, “What bet?”
“I bet Ron Weasley that I’d pick a fight with a Slytherin by the end of the year. He suggested Malfoy.” I nodded, “I think I could win.” I said thoughtfully.
“Don’t be so sure, he doesn’t look like much, but he’s a Quidditch Seeker.” Lavender muttered. I couldn’t agree. He looked so attractive. But he also looked like a snob.
“Either way, it would be a feat in itself to get him away from his thugs. Crabbe and Goyle.” Parvati added, “Well, I guess you could just jinx a cake to float in front of them and lead them away. Their brains are about the size of a sugar cube.”
“And their thoughts consist of about as much.” Lavender threw in.
“Settle down.” Snape drawled coldly, bringing the quiet drone of whispers to a silence. I ended up on the right end of the table, beside the aisle, with Fay at my left. Though Snape drew attentiveness from the whole of the class, it seemed he failed to pull my thoughts away from the blond-haired Slytherin at the table kitty-corner to my own.
“What’s his first name?” I asked Fay under my breath.
“Malfoy’s?” She asked in disbelief, “Why do you care?”
“I just want to know.” I insisted.
“Miss Ravescroft, if you would please cease talking and pay attention.” Snape demanded, looking at me with his usual mask of displeasure and blank expression.
My eyes shot up to look at him, my eyebrows arching slightly as I brushed my hair out of my face, signaling that I was listening.
Once sufficiently satisfied, Snape carried on. “Before we begin today’s lesson,” He began, but I was distracted by a nudge to my left thigh. I glanced down to see that Fay had scooted a paper partially out of her book, a word scrawled into the margin of the bottom corner.
Draco
