The Unforgivable House
Title: The Unforgivable House
Author: Grundy (jerseyfabulous)
Rating: FR13
Crossover: Harry Potter
Disclaimer: All things Buffy belong to Joss. All things Harry belong to JK. No money is being made here, it's all in good fun.
Summary: The rest of Hogwarts isn't in a very forgiving mood at the start of the first term after Voldemort's defeat. (Companion piece to "Sorted")
Word Count: 2250
The Slytherin table in the Great Hall had been subdued even before the Sorting began. Looking down the table, Draco barely recognized his own house when he compared it to what he remembered from the end of his sixth year.
Slytherin had fewer students back than the other houses for a variety of reasons. Some hadn’t returned for reasons the other houses would understand and expect. A handful had been sent to foreign schools for safety and their parents preferred them to continue their education there. Then there were those afraid of facing the rough justice of their peers- students whose parents had been on Voldemort’s side, or even joined that side themselves, were under no illusions that there wouldn’t be reprisal when adult eyes weren’t watching.
But wearing the green and silver had been no talisman of safety, no matter what the goody two shoes of Dumbledore’s Army thought. Slytherins had also suffered and died in the war, not all of them fighting for the Dark Lord. Once you got beyond the relative safety of Hogwarts walls, people didn’t care so much about houses. And if you got caught in the crossfire, they made no damn difference at all. Draco knew off hand of at least a dozen of his housemates who were dead or permanently incapacitated- like Pike, still in St. Mungo’s. He also knew that three of them had met their fate at the hand of a parent. He doubted any of the saints of Gryffindor had bothered to find that out, though.
The Slytherins had also lost several members to Azkaban in addition to their casualties. Draco was for the first time in his life facing the school without the reassuring bulk of Crabbe and Goyle at his back. One was dead, the other serving a five-year minimum sentence in Azkaban. It pained Draco to know that Goyle probably could have avoided prison if he’d been clever enough to tell the Wizengamot that he was just doing what he was told to by his father. The only person who could contradict him had died in the battle. But Goyle had never been clever, he’d always followed and trusted that someone else would do the thinking. Usually that someone had been Draco. But Lucius had forbidden Draco to involve himself in Goyle’s case, so all he had was the sinking feeling he’d failed the closest thing he had to a friend.
As for Draco himself, the Dark Mark was fading on his arm, but with no official judgment on him one way or the other, he was left at a loss, unsure of how he fit into the wizarding world and unsure how to proceed. If you threw in Zabini and Nott- the one had remained neutral despite sympathizing with the Dark Lord’s views on Muggles and Muggleborns, the other had lost a parent to the Aurors- the boys in his year were pretty much the story of Slytherin House in a nutshell.
It hadn’t been Draco’s idea to come back. Narcissa Malfoy had argued, and her husband eventually agreed, that Draco doing his seventh year was desirable for a number of reasons. First and foremost, it was politic to show that the Malfoys were fitting in with the new order. Thus far, they had not been penalized by the Ministry for their support of Voldemort, and Lucius was sparing no effort to ensure it remained so. The Malfoy heir in particular needed to be seen to be acting the part.
It was also practical, because as Narcissa had acidly remarked, unless Draco intended to become a stay at home wizard, doing one NEWT if not several was essential. Even positions at many of the charitable organizations favored by wealthy families or the Ministry sinecures unofficially reserved for those who didn’t need the income required at least one. Draco might not need to work for a living, but even so, it would be wise to finish his qualifications. Potions he could do in his sleep, and Defense wouldn’t be a problem. If he applied himself, he should also manage creditable results in Charms and Herbology.
It wasn’t as if Draco was the only one repeating his seventh year. Virtually all of his Hogwarts class- those who had survived, that was- were back, from St. Potter, Granger, and the Weasel on down. Even those who had attended Hogwarts the previous year hadn’t been prepared to sit NEWTs, not that the exams had been given under the circumstances. About the time the school would normally have been holding OWLs and NEWTs, the students had been cleaning up debris from the battle and attending funerals.
The Hogwarts letter in August had explained that students would be given the option to either continue with their next year’s coursework, or repeat the previous year, entirely at their discretion. The only students who didn’t have that option were the first years. The lucky brats were the only ones for whom this would be anything like a normal school year.
Talking to his fellow Slytherins on the train, most people preferred to repeat, with only a few courses excepted. (Everyone seemed to agree that Transfiguration, Potions, and Charms had carried on as close to normal as possible despite everything. Professor Sprout had done her best for Herbology, but the Carrows had for reasons known only to themselves delighted in interfering with her classes, going so far as to wreck one greenhouse entirely.) The professors were going to have an interesting time drawing up the timetables.
By the time they’d gotten off the Hogwarts Express, it had been made painfully clear that the other three houses were not about to let bygones be bygones. Everyone wearing Slytherin colors was a target, and the first years- even some from traditionally Sytherin families- were shying away as if being Slytherin were contagious. The prefects, grimly aware that any attempt at retaliation would not end well, had tamped down their own anger to enforce rigid discipline on their housemates, with the result that Slytherin House entered the Great Hall en bloc, with the students most likely to be targeted by the other Houses surrounded by a protective ring of their housemates.
Once the Sorting started, Slytherin’s mood had not improved. As first year after first year skipped to any table but Slytherin, Draco could feel the atmosphere sinking as his housemates understood that this was another indignity they were to be put through.
“Shall we take bets on whether we get any at all?” Zabini muttered to him.
Zabini had been named Head Boy last year, which meant he was in the odd position of being co-Head Boy this year. Professor McGonagall had announced that returning students from their year who had been prefects or officers would retain their position. That meant there were two Head Boys and two Head Girls. It would probably be ok for the Girls- Ravenclaw Patil and the girl Weasley had never been at odds that he’d seen- but he somehow doubted Truman was pleased about sharing a rare moment of Hufflepuff glory with Blaise Zabini.
Draco proffered a galleon.
“One to the House fund for every one we get is traditional, isn’t it?”
A round of groans from his fellow prefects greeted that statement. Allegedly a galleon from each prefect was the tradition, though it wasn’t enforced- even as a first year Draco hadn’t been dense enough not to know that not all the prefects could afford that kind of generosity. But it was a house tradition that the prefects should donate to the social fund for every new student, and Father had made it clear when Draco got his badge that he should quietly make up the difference for any prefect who needed assistance.
“Relax, Zabini’s right. I doubt it’s going to be a very sizable donation this year,” Pansy said with a roll of her eyes. None of this year's prefects would be in any danger of difficulty, even if Draco did embarrass them into a galleon a head. "Though there have to be one or two who are more afraid of writing Mummy and Daddy that they ended up in Hufflepuff than of the rest of the school ganging up on firsties.”
They watched in stony silence as a young Carrow went to Hufflepuff.
“Does he really think that’s going to help?” Nott snorted, watching the restrained reaction from Carrow’s new housemates. “He can’t very well change his name.”
“It’s not about their reaction,” Daphne sniffed. “It’s about showing that he doesn’t mean to be like his aunt and uncle. Loyalty, fair play… have you ever actually listened to the Hat?”
Nott blinked.
“No, why would I do that?”
“Because you might gain some useful information if you did,” Zabini said curtly, cutting off whatever Millie had been about to say. Her eyes were suspiciously red-rimmed, and not just because someone had hexed her as she was getting off the train. Tracy Davis had been her best friend since well before Hogwarts, and the two had been inseparable right up until the Death Eaters using Tracy to pressure her mother had used a bit too much pressure.
They’d all been trying to keep Millie cushioned since Platform 9¾- she was liable to snap on the first person that gave her a reason. With a little luck, they could keep that from happening until she was safely in the Slytherin dorms with Daphne and Pansy.
Draco elbowed Blaise as yet another first year who wouldn’t be joining Slytherin jogged up for his turn with the Hat.
“What’s the deal with that one?” he muttered, nodding at the lone teen standing in the dwindling gaggle of firsties. “Have we heard anything about her?”
Blaise shook his head.
“Dawn. Didn’t catch her surname. Transfer student is all I know, and that’s only because Weasley and Granger were talking about her as we were pulling into Hogsmeade. She’s already tight with Potter’s bunch, so no chance they won’t have warned her against the dastardly snakes.”
Slytherin finally got a chance to give a somewhat ragged cheer for their first and possibly only new student, Anthony Flint. Marcus’s youngest brother had the same stubbornness and refusal to back down from a challenge as Marcus and their older brother Marius had both shown, so it was no surprise that he was the first to buck the anti-Slytherin trend.
They looked down the table to see the second years fussing over Anthony, with the fifth year prefects Astoria and Fawley smiling at actually getting to do their traditional duty to welcome new students to the house.
“No one knows anything about her?” Pansy asked as the cheer quickly died.
Harper rolled his eyes.
“Honestly, Parkinson, had you not noticed? Slytherin House is unforgiven. As the house of evil, we’re out of the loop. We’re lucky we know anything about her at all.”
Pansy glared at the younger prefect for his temerity.
“Really, Harper? I hadn’t noticed. I thought it was just me they all still hated for being willing to give up St. Potter.”
“Shut it, you lot,” Zabini ordered. “There’s one coming up that might actually be ours, Astrid Rowle.”
As Zabini predicted, little Astrid was directed to Slytherin. Draco decided she was a natural Slytherin- she walked as primly as if she was in her grandmother’s parlor, utterly unconcerned with what the other houses thought.
There were two more first years sorted - Ravenclaw and Gryffindor- before Professor Slughorn read out “Summers, Dawn”.
“Summers… not a pureblood, then,” Nott mused. “Still, not bad looking, is she?”
He was probably speaking for all the males in the school, Draco decided, judging by the number of eyes he’d just spotted appreciating Summers’ backside as she walked up to the sorting stool.
“Really, Nott? From blood purity to wanting in her pants in one sentence, well done!” Millie snapped. “Either you believe in that rubbish or you don’t.”
Draco stomped hard on Nott’s foot underneath the table to prevent him saying anything else, and Daphne intervened to keep Millie from taking it any further.
“Hat’s taking its sweet time with her, isn’t it?” Pansy observed. “It’s been quick with most of them this year.”
“Guess she’s more difficult,” Harper replied unconcernedly.
“Or more interesting,” Pansy shot back, still irritated at him for patronizing her earlier.
“Doesn’t matter. I’m calling Gryff,” Zabini cut in smoothly.
No one cared to argue the point.
“Here it comes,” Daphne said.
“SLYTHERIN!” the Hat proclaimed.
“Told- wait, did it just say Slytherin?” Zabini demanded, his jaw dropping in disbelief.
Draco could only shrug in response, as he had no idea how someone so clearly Gryffindor-bound had ended up with them either.
“Are you idiots going to cheer her or not?” Millie hissed from across the table, and Draco suddenly realized that the majority of Slytherin House had been gaping as much as the other three at this wholly unexpected turn of events. Only Millie and Daphne were politely applauding.
They did cheer, clapping all the more when the other three houses continued to gawp. Draco took a rather selfish satisfaction at the way Weasel’s brain appeared to have broken, though he noted Potter took it in stride. Oh, well, as Mother would say, one can’t have everything. But Slytherin House did now definitely have something the other houses had wanted…
As he watched Summers sashay up the aisle between Hufflepuff and Slytherin like she owned it, Draco decided that this year had just gotten a lot more interesting.
Author: Grundy (jerseyfabulous)
Rating: FR13
Crossover: Harry Potter
Disclaimer: All things Buffy belong to Joss. All things Harry belong to JK. No money is being made here, it's all in good fun.
Summary: The rest of Hogwarts isn't in a very forgiving mood at the start of the first term after Voldemort's defeat. (Companion piece to "Sorted")
Word Count: 2250
The Slytherin table in the Great Hall had been subdued even before the Sorting began. Looking down the table, Draco barely recognized his own house when he compared it to what he remembered from the end of his sixth year.
Slytherin had fewer students back than the other houses for a variety of reasons. Some hadn’t returned for reasons the other houses would understand and expect. A handful had been sent to foreign schools for safety and their parents preferred them to continue their education there. Then there were those afraid of facing the rough justice of their peers- students whose parents had been on Voldemort’s side, or even joined that side themselves, were under no illusions that there wouldn’t be reprisal when adult eyes weren’t watching.
But wearing the green and silver had been no talisman of safety, no matter what the goody two shoes of Dumbledore’s Army thought. Slytherins had also suffered and died in the war, not all of them fighting for the Dark Lord. Once you got beyond the relative safety of Hogwarts walls, people didn’t care so much about houses. And if you got caught in the crossfire, they made no damn difference at all. Draco knew off hand of at least a dozen of his housemates who were dead or permanently incapacitated- like Pike, still in St. Mungo’s. He also knew that three of them had met their fate at the hand of a parent. He doubted any of the saints of Gryffindor had bothered to find that out, though.
The Slytherins had also lost several members to Azkaban in addition to their casualties. Draco was for the first time in his life facing the school without the reassuring bulk of Crabbe and Goyle at his back. One was dead, the other serving a five-year minimum sentence in Azkaban. It pained Draco to know that Goyle probably could have avoided prison if he’d been clever enough to tell the Wizengamot that he was just doing what he was told to by his father. The only person who could contradict him had died in the battle. But Goyle had never been clever, he’d always followed and trusted that someone else would do the thinking. Usually that someone had been Draco. But Lucius had forbidden Draco to involve himself in Goyle’s case, so all he had was the sinking feeling he’d failed the closest thing he had to a friend.
As for Draco himself, the Dark Mark was fading on his arm, but with no official judgment on him one way or the other, he was left at a loss, unsure of how he fit into the wizarding world and unsure how to proceed. If you threw in Zabini and Nott- the one had remained neutral despite sympathizing with the Dark Lord’s views on Muggles and Muggleborns, the other had lost a parent to the Aurors- the boys in his year were pretty much the story of Slytherin House in a nutshell.
It hadn’t been Draco’s idea to come back. Narcissa Malfoy had argued, and her husband eventually agreed, that Draco doing his seventh year was desirable for a number of reasons. First and foremost, it was politic to show that the Malfoys were fitting in with the new order. Thus far, they had not been penalized by the Ministry for their support of Voldemort, and Lucius was sparing no effort to ensure it remained so. The Malfoy heir in particular needed to be seen to be acting the part.
It was also practical, because as Narcissa had acidly remarked, unless Draco intended to become a stay at home wizard, doing one NEWT if not several was essential. Even positions at many of the charitable organizations favored by wealthy families or the Ministry sinecures unofficially reserved for those who didn’t need the income required at least one. Draco might not need to work for a living, but even so, it would be wise to finish his qualifications. Potions he could do in his sleep, and Defense wouldn’t be a problem. If he applied himself, he should also manage creditable results in Charms and Herbology.
It wasn’t as if Draco was the only one repeating his seventh year. Virtually all of his Hogwarts class- those who had survived, that was- were back, from St. Potter, Granger, and the Weasel on down. Even those who had attended Hogwarts the previous year hadn’t been prepared to sit NEWTs, not that the exams had been given under the circumstances. About the time the school would normally have been holding OWLs and NEWTs, the students had been cleaning up debris from the battle and attending funerals.
The Hogwarts letter in August had explained that students would be given the option to either continue with their next year’s coursework, or repeat the previous year, entirely at their discretion. The only students who didn’t have that option were the first years. The lucky brats were the only ones for whom this would be anything like a normal school year.
Talking to his fellow Slytherins on the train, most people preferred to repeat, with only a few courses excepted. (Everyone seemed to agree that Transfiguration, Potions, and Charms had carried on as close to normal as possible despite everything. Professor Sprout had done her best for Herbology, but the Carrows had for reasons known only to themselves delighted in interfering with her classes, going so far as to wreck one greenhouse entirely.) The professors were going to have an interesting time drawing up the timetables.
By the time they’d gotten off the Hogwarts Express, it had been made painfully clear that the other three houses were not about to let bygones be bygones. Everyone wearing Slytherin colors was a target, and the first years- even some from traditionally Sytherin families- were shying away as if being Slytherin were contagious. The prefects, grimly aware that any attempt at retaliation would not end well, had tamped down their own anger to enforce rigid discipline on their housemates, with the result that Slytherin House entered the Great Hall en bloc, with the students most likely to be targeted by the other Houses surrounded by a protective ring of their housemates.
Once the Sorting started, Slytherin’s mood had not improved. As first year after first year skipped to any table but Slytherin, Draco could feel the atmosphere sinking as his housemates understood that this was another indignity they were to be put through.
“Shall we take bets on whether we get any at all?” Zabini muttered to him.
Zabini had been named Head Boy last year, which meant he was in the odd position of being co-Head Boy this year. Professor McGonagall had announced that returning students from their year who had been prefects or officers would retain their position. That meant there were two Head Boys and two Head Girls. It would probably be ok for the Girls- Ravenclaw Patil and the girl Weasley had never been at odds that he’d seen- but he somehow doubted Truman was pleased about sharing a rare moment of Hufflepuff glory with Blaise Zabini.
Draco proffered a galleon.
“One to the House fund for every one we get is traditional, isn’t it?”
A round of groans from his fellow prefects greeted that statement. Allegedly a galleon from each prefect was the tradition, though it wasn’t enforced- even as a first year Draco hadn’t been dense enough not to know that not all the prefects could afford that kind of generosity. But it was a house tradition that the prefects should donate to the social fund for every new student, and Father had made it clear when Draco got his badge that he should quietly make up the difference for any prefect who needed assistance.
“Relax, Zabini’s right. I doubt it’s going to be a very sizable donation this year,” Pansy said with a roll of her eyes. None of this year's prefects would be in any danger of difficulty, even if Draco did embarrass them into a galleon a head. "Though there have to be one or two who are more afraid of writing Mummy and Daddy that they ended up in Hufflepuff than of the rest of the school ganging up on firsties.”
They watched in stony silence as a young Carrow went to Hufflepuff.
“Does he really think that’s going to help?” Nott snorted, watching the restrained reaction from Carrow’s new housemates. “He can’t very well change his name.”
“It’s not about their reaction,” Daphne sniffed. “It’s about showing that he doesn’t mean to be like his aunt and uncle. Loyalty, fair play… have you ever actually listened to the Hat?”
Nott blinked.
“No, why would I do that?”
“Because you might gain some useful information if you did,” Zabini said curtly, cutting off whatever Millie had been about to say. Her eyes were suspiciously red-rimmed, and not just because someone had hexed her as she was getting off the train. Tracy Davis had been her best friend since well before Hogwarts, and the two had been inseparable right up until the Death Eaters using Tracy to pressure her mother had used a bit too much pressure.
They’d all been trying to keep Millie cushioned since Platform 9¾- she was liable to snap on the first person that gave her a reason. With a little luck, they could keep that from happening until she was safely in the Slytherin dorms with Daphne and Pansy.
Draco elbowed Blaise as yet another first year who wouldn’t be joining Slytherin jogged up for his turn with the Hat.
“What’s the deal with that one?” he muttered, nodding at the lone teen standing in the dwindling gaggle of firsties. “Have we heard anything about her?”
Blaise shook his head.
“Dawn. Didn’t catch her surname. Transfer student is all I know, and that’s only because Weasley and Granger were talking about her as we were pulling into Hogsmeade. She’s already tight with Potter’s bunch, so no chance they won’t have warned her against the dastardly snakes.”
Slytherin finally got a chance to give a somewhat ragged cheer for their first and possibly only new student, Anthony Flint. Marcus’s youngest brother had the same stubbornness and refusal to back down from a challenge as Marcus and their older brother Marius had both shown, so it was no surprise that he was the first to buck the anti-Slytherin trend.
They looked down the table to see the second years fussing over Anthony, with the fifth year prefects Astoria and Fawley smiling at actually getting to do their traditional duty to welcome new students to the house.
“No one knows anything about her?” Pansy asked as the cheer quickly died.
Harper rolled his eyes.
“Honestly, Parkinson, had you not noticed? Slytherin House is unforgiven. As the house of evil, we’re out of the loop. We’re lucky we know anything about her at all.”
Pansy glared at the younger prefect for his temerity.
“Really, Harper? I hadn’t noticed. I thought it was just me they all still hated for being willing to give up St. Potter.”
“Shut it, you lot,” Zabini ordered. “There’s one coming up that might actually be ours, Astrid Rowle.”
As Zabini predicted, little Astrid was directed to Slytherin. Draco decided she was a natural Slytherin- she walked as primly as if she was in her grandmother’s parlor, utterly unconcerned with what the other houses thought.
There were two more first years sorted - Ravenclaw and Gryffindor- before Professor Slughorn read out “Summers, Dawn”.
“Summers… not a pureblood, then,” Nott mused. “Still, not bad looking, is she?”
He was probably speaking for all the males in the school, Draco decided, judging by the number of eyes he’d just spotted appreciating Summers’ backside as she walked up to the sorting stool.
“Really, Nott? From blood purity to wanting in her pants in one sentence, well done!” Millie snapped. “Either you believe in that rubbish or you don’t.”
Draco stomped hard on Nott’s foot underneath the table to prevent him saying anything else, and Daphne intervened to keep Millie from taking it any further.
“Hat’s taking its sweet time with her, isn’t it?” Pansy observed. “It’s been quick with most of them this year.”
“Guess she’s more difficult,” Harper replied unconcernedly.
“Or more interesting,” Pansy shot back, still irritated at him for patronizing her earlier.
“Doesn’t matter. I’m calling Gryff,” Zabini cut in smoothly.
No one cared to argue the point.
“Here it comes,” Daphne said.
“SLYTHERIN!” the Hat proclaimed.
“Told- wait, did it just say Slytherin?” Zabini demanded, his jaw dropping in disbelief.
Draco could only shrug in response, as he had no idea how someone so clearly Gryffindor-bound had ended up with them either.
“Are you idiots going to cheer her or not?” Millie hissed from across the table, and Draco suddenly realized that the majority of Slytherin House had been gaping as much as the other three at this wholly unexpected turn of events. Only Millie and Daphne were politely applauding.
They did cheer, clapping all the more when the other three houses continued to gawp. Draco took a rather selfish satisfaction at the way Weasel’s brain appeared to have broken, though he noted Potter took it in stride. Oh, well, as Mother would say, one can’t have everything. But Slytherin House did now definitely have something the other houses had wanted…
As he watched Summers sashay up the aisle between Hufflepuff and Slytherin like she owned it, Draco decided that this year had just gotten a lot more interesting.