Walking down the carriage, dragging my trunk behind me, I passed some already full cabins, and looking at them, they were also first-year students. I vaguely recognized some of their features, be it by their hair colors or eyes, telling signs of pure-blood families or, at least, half-bloods. As I was walking along, looking into one compartment, my eyes met with someone who I totally forgot would also be present. Watching those light-grey eyes, filled with pride and a false sense of authority, made me audibly sigh as I went forward, ignoring him completely. I was not in the mood for it. Sadly, the owner of those eyes thought differently, opening the compartment door and looking out after me.
“Not even saying hi, Anguine? Or is your family suddenly outranking mine?”
“I was not about to interrupt the important discussion that the son of the Minister of Improper Use of Magic,” I replied plainly, not even looking back and continuing my way. “My apologies, Mr. Malfoy,” I added just before he could say something back.
I was not about to indulge in his fantasies. True, his father, on paper, outranked mine in power and authority. But that did not mean we would take everything like a punching bag. Although Father usually avoided arguments with the slimy head of the Malfoy’s, when they became too pushy, he wasn’t afraid to bring the matters before HIS attention. That usually shuts them up pretty quickly. HE had no mood or time to deal with squabbles between his subordinates, Father always told me. There were… bigger issues at hand. Whatever that meant. So… following Father’s advice, I adopted the same method, dealing with Draco Malfoy whenever we met. Ignore him politely, and satisfy his ego. Then he will fall silent like a well-fed baby. I was glad that he was behind me and couldn’t see the small smirk forming on my face, imagining him wearing a diaper and waving a rattle to amuse himself.
“Oh…” I stopped, finally finding an empty cabin. I leisurely opened, pulled my trunk in, placed it down, and with a loud moan, I sat down, looking out the window, watching the changing scenery. It very quickly let me forget my brief run-in with Draco. Although, I was afraid I would have to meet him more regularly than I wanted. “Maybe we will be sorted into different Houses?” Surprisingly, a voice answered my question that wasn’t supposed to be answered.
“You already have an idea where you will end up?”
Looking towards its source, a girl was standing at the door. She was around my height, with long, braided brown hair, brown eyes, and wearing elegant black and gold clothing. It wasn’t hard to guess by her features which family she belonged to.
“A rough one,” I said, smiling a little, looking behind her, seeing her fair hand hold onto her trunk. “You can come in if you want.”
“Thanks.” She nodded in response, finally sitting down opposite of me, looking at my hair, clearly deducing my own background as I did with hers.”
“Conrad Anguine.” I nodded, and she quickly answered with her own name.
“Quincy Black.”
Thought so. There is only one remaining child in the Black family, and that is Regulus Black’s daughter. Oh, how one of the most ancient and purest bloodlines fell… Noticing the change in her expression, I quickly tried to hide my thought from showing up on my face. It was widely known that the current sons of the Black family both of them turned traitors and were wanted as terrorists. Sirius did it first, way back in the days when he was still a student at Hogwarts. He is still one of their strongest assets to this day… Then there is his younger brother Regulus.
Father told me that he was a Death Eater, joining in young, but after he was assigned a task, he failed it and turned traitor, joining his elder brother. As to what that task was, not even Father knew. The fact that both brothers abandoned their families brought shame to the Blacks, so much so that they were now looked upon with contempt and suspicious eyes, even by those who were related to them. Although, that was true for almost all the other families. Everyone has a little black in themselves, my Father used to tell me jokingly. Quincy before me was still a baby when that happened, and I don’t know if she was left behind or her father was unable to take her away… but the fact remained. She was now the last of the Blacks. By now, her brows were furrowed even more. I bet she thought, after telling her name, my silence was a signal of my contempt towards her or her family.
“Sorry.” I replied, smiling, “I tend to space out from time to time.
“Oh.” She answered, not really believing me, still maintaining a frown.
“Do you also have a feeling where you will end up?” I asked, ignoring her now wary looks. The best way to deal with that was to strike up a casual conversation. I truly did not mind that she was from the Black family. Even if others may look down on her, I knew full well how that felt. Our family was also looked upon differently, like, for example, as others would look upon the Malfoys. Mainly because my Father was a long-time Death Eater, yet seemingly not in the inner circle of HIS. Not to mention we were designated as “purifiers” and made to interbreed with those families that let muggle-born blood seep into them.
Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.
“I have.” Quincy answered me in the meanwhile, “And I hope it will be the Slytherins, or I don’t know if I will be allowed to wear my family’s name anymore. What about you?”
“Well, my family’s crest bears the image of a viper, so you can guess.” I chuckled but then added, “But my Father wouldn’t really care which House I am going to be sorted into.”
“What about you? Do YOU care?” She asked, watching my eyes, and I felt like she was trying to read me. Maintaining such intensive eye contact was a bit uncomfortable, but I was not about to lose.
“I do,” I answered, crossing my legs, leaning back in my seat, and blinking my eyelids slowly before answering, mimicking how my Father dealt with others when being questioned. “I don’t want to be in Hufflepuff. They became the House where most half-bloods and suspected, weakly magical students are being put into. All of their futures lie in doing menial tasks for the truly magical. It became the synonym for being talentless.”
“Do you believe that?” She asked, surprising me with it, yet her face remained calm and stoic when asking such a question.
“Are you asking me if their House is what it is now or still what it was a decade ago?” I asked back with another question, finally making her flinch a little. “Hogwarts has been changed,” I added, seeing her remain silent. “Perfected.”
“I remember HIM saying it,” Quincy murmured, fixing her sitting position.
“To answer your question, I believe that we have much clearer roles for ourselves. Getting sorted into Ravenclaw… wouldn’t be bad.” I continued in a leisurely voice, remembering what Father told me about the different Houses in Hogwarts. “I like the idea of being one who researches magic and explores new fields.”
“Mhm.” She nodded but did not interrupt me.
“I won’t be sorted into Gryffindor… I hope.”
“Because…” She opened her mouth to ask, and while she was searching for the correct words, I answered her. I knew what she was getting at.
“Those who go there are destined to be warriors and put into the frontlines to battle and hunt down other wizards. I overheard my Father a few times dealing with people who were put under the Imperius curse and sent out to be suicide warriors to bring down foreign wizards who were against us. “
“Foreign wizards?” She asked, raising an eyebrow, and I grimaced, realizing I let it slip. Probably, I should not know about it either as I was talking about things I overheard… Father never told me about it.
“Look, I’m just saying that not only the terrorists are against us and our changes.” I hurriedly added, watching her body squirm when I mentioned the “terrorists.” I was sure she thought about her father. “Plus, I don’t know how good I would be at dueling. I’m not fond of the idea.”
“Your Father is said to be one of the best. I read about his accomplishments in the war.”
“Thank you.” I smiled, feeling proud, “But that does not mean I inherited his talent in it. I had never dueled before. I just got my wand.”
“Really?” She asked, surprised. I knew that it was considered late, but Father always said everything has its time. If I just got something and do not earn it… I would never come to appreciate it. I don’t know if it is true, but since getting my wand, I couldn’t part from it, and it is still hidden in my sleeve. With a flick of my hand, I could grasp it firmly.
“Yeah. Anyway, that leaves me with one House. Slytherin.”
“I see.” She nodded, leaning back, but her face did not relax; quite the opposite, she looked more nervous than before.
“What is it?” I asked, and now it was me who leaned forward, looking at her, trying to see what she was thinking.
“Getting into any of the Houses, other than Slytherin, would make my daily life a tad easier. But then I would be kicked out from home and, consequently, probably from the school too.” She explained, rubbing her forehead, “Getting into Slytherin would make me avoid that fate… but then….”
“I see.” I sighed, not forcing her to explain it. Those in the main house of Hogwarts were destined to become either Death Eaters, close companions… servants of HIS. It would bring the prospect of great power, but for someone like Quincy, she would surely be looked down upon by the other, stronger pure-blood families who did not have two traitors and wanted terrorists in their midst.
“Would you like to buy anything?” A voice interrupted us as an old woman opened the cabin door, pushing a trolley with more sweets on it than I ever counted at once.
“Yeah.” I gulped, salivating at once; my hand was already in my pocket. In the end, because I just couldn’t choose, I bought one from everything.
While I was sorting them out on the seat next to me, Quincy politely refused and leaned back, fiddling with her long braid, looking out of the window, and watching the passing scenery. She was only as good at hiding her emotions as I was… because I could tell she was nervous, anxious, and worried. All feeding into each other, making her mood worsen every mile we got closer to Hogwarts.
“Here!” I pressed a chocolate frog towards her.
“I’m not hungry.” She answered, looking a bit surprised.
“Do you really think I am a pig or something?”
“E-excuse me?” She stuttered, her mouth opening agape, but I just grinned.
“You really think I can destroy all this by myself? Come on! Help me out here, will ya?”
“...”
“Come on… my hands are getting tired!” I joked, still holding the chocolate frog that she took in the end, turning towards the pile of sweets in the process of deciding which one to eat next.