The Slytherin Transfer

04: "Told you she had balls."

I eventually reach a portrait of a fat lady in a pink dress, and she eyes me suspiciously.

"Password?"

Shit.

I never got the password.

"Uh," I say, "Funny story, actually, really great — you're gonna love it. I was just transferred from Slytherin to Gryffindor, so I don't know the password—"

She cuts me off with a shrill laugh, and I almost flinch at the unwelcome sound.

"Transferred! Ha!" She cackles, "I've never heard that one before!"

"I'm telling the truth," I say, rolling my eyes and holding out my robes, "Look, I may be wearing the Slytherin emblem, but I've got Gryffindor robes right here."

She just continues to cackle, and I sigh in frustration, ready to set up camp outside of the portrait hole before it abruptly opens from the inside. A first year pokes her head out before seeing me and smiling, obviously having no clue or opinion on me being transferred. She walks past me, oblivious as I rush through the hole behind her and walk into the Common Room.

I'm almost in awe at the difference between the Slytherin common room and the Gryffindor one. Back in the dungeon I used to hang out in, things are dank and cold, and the walls are damp stone. Here, a fire lights up the room, and puffy chairs sit everywhere, people lounging about and laughing, a few still covered in food while others have cast a spell to get it off of them. I quickly clean myself up, before walking fully into the room.

I plan on just slipping past everyone and heading to bed, but of course the edge of the rug that sits on the wooden floor catches my toe, and I nudge into a table, knocking over a book that sits atop a stack and swearing as it hits the ground with a thump.

Everyone goes silent, and I lean casually against the wall behind me, throwing them all a coy smile and a small wave.

"Right, so why don't we do a little ice breaker?" I say quickly, "My name is Cassidy, and my favourite ice cream flavour is chocolate. Who wants to go next?"

The silence stretches on until the same sixth year that nudged me in the Great Hall staggers forth, an empty bottle of fire whisky in hand.

"Wow," I say, "How are you already drunk? You're what? Two hundred pounds and six feet? And you're a lightweight? How on earth does that work?"

"We don' want you," he slurs, suddenly stumbling at me and pinning me against the wall, "We don' wanna filthy Slytherin in 'ere."

I nod, licking my teeth and not showing any sign of fear, "Okay, that's great to know. Unfortunately for you however, it's not your choice and I also don't care what you think, so thanks for your input, but if you'd be so kind as to get out of the way—"

"Shut the hell up!" He yells, and I smell the strong alcohol on his breath before he raises his arm to hit me.

"Woah!" I look behind his shoulder to see James leap off the couch.

"Hey!" Sirius follows closely behind, but the sixth year is already swinging at me.

"Richard stop!"

I swiftly duck under 'Richard's arm and grab it, yanking it quickly behind his back and shoving his face into the wall with my other arm.

"Say that again?" I ask him sweetly as the two boys who were coming to my rescue stop behind me, looking surprised.

His voice is muffled by the wall he's squished against, and I push him harder.

"What was that?"

"Okay!" He manages to get out, and I release him, stepping away from the wall and smiling smugly.