The Queen of Vipers || Fred Weasley

viii.

Electra officially hated Hogwarts.

Okay, so she was exaggerating. She in no way wanted to leave Hogwarts and go back to Our Fair Lady, for one because she wasn't getting pummeled in Hogwarts (yet, but there's still plenty of time) and because magic was so cool.

At first the other Slytherins acted like they liked her —even a few older students cozied up next to her at the start of term feast. But that quickly changed.

"Black?" an older, handsome boy had asked. There was an excited sort of spark in his eyes as he leaned over the table towards Electra, and a dazzling smile on full display for her. "As in the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black?"

"Have you been paying any attention in Astronomy, you dolt?" hissed a girl beside him. "'Electra' is a star, one of the pleiades. She's got a star name, of course she's one of them!"

"Didn't know there was another Noble Black," breathed another excitedly.

"Then you must be Sirius Black's daughter, right?" they pressed, their excitement heightened.

The Slytherins' stark difference in reaction to who she was caught her completely off guard.

"Pretty sure," she had answered blandly back.

"You mean you don't know?"

"I don't exactly remember him," she'd said defensively.

"Where's that accent from?" asked the girl sorted before her, eyeing her suspiciously.

She'd hardly explained that she was raised in America by nuns when already they didn't want a thing to do with her. A few of them even hissed before they turned their heads like a band of feral animals.

No one spoke to her the rest of the feast.

McGonagall had been right, everyone did remember her father; it was all they whispered about the rest of the night. It bothered her, knowing everyone knew of him when she didn't. Like these strangers knew him more than his own daughter. And perhaps they did.

It also made her wonder about the Black family, her family. How could a name hold such power? Both great and terrible. To, on one hand make Cedric look at her like that, yet on the other hold such prestige in her own house (even if she did soil it). She thought of asking Professor McGonagall, but a part of her didn't want to know—the part of her that made her sick to her stomach to find out.

And so began the hisses of "Disgrace," from her fellow housemates in the halls. Not an ideal nickname, but she supposed it was better than anything she'd been called at Our Fair Lady. Besides, the rest of the students were calling her 'The Lost Black' thanks to an article in the Daily Prophet by a Rita Skeeter, so it could be worse.

Though their nicknames and whispers were nothing compared to the sheer looks her Head of House gave her whenever the chance presented itself, like he hoped that at least once his eyes would actually shoot daggers at her and she'd drop dead on the spot. She had the creeping feeling that Slytherin's Head of House and Potions Master, Severus Snape, hated her. And by 'creeping feeling' she means she knew for a solid fact that he hated her. Like really hated her.

She wasn't sure what she did to make the greasy haired, hook-nosed professor dislike her already, but she didn't care, she wasn't a fan either. His disdain for her seemed to trump his desire to win the House Cup as, so far in their first two days, she'd managed to lose eleven points for Slytherin House already, all taken by Snape for stupid shit like not knowing how to tie her tie or for getting lost on her way to Herbology. To top it off, she hadn't even had a single class with him yet. The loss in House points only made her housemates dislike her more. What a stellar combo her house and head of house was turning out to be.