Settling in the Dungeons
Unlike the stories she’d read in her youth, the dungeons weren’t scary. Actually, they were rather modern for a group who despised muggles. It was cold and rather dim, though there were lamps and electricity plugs — which seemed rather odd as their city view was water and disturbing creatures who certainly manifested through Lovecraft. Most of the tables had students studying with an uncanny walkman, though she couldn’t quite pinpoint if the uncanniness was derived from the students wearing it or the odd shape. The Prefect, Malory or something of the sort, dragged on about the rules and dorms and such. She was clear and spoke rather loudly, her arms acting as a backbone to her performance. Considering what she knew about Slytherin, Corpse just assumed this was closer to Thanksgiving rather than an actual orientation.
Green and silver decorated the walls and furniture, even the lighting looked strangely green across the large, brown tables. Malfoy was standing next to her, paying attention to their superior. Sighing, she brought her eyes back to the ginger-haired girl at the front. Soon enough, they were dismissed, sent off to find their dorms. How? She had no clue. But everyone was gone in the blink of an eye, paring up with their friends (and family) to find a room. Glancing across the common room, Corpse stood as the sole first year, swishing her head from left to right as her brows pursed together. Her mind couldn’t help but wonder if James was having as much trouble as she was. As if heard from some benign above, her silent prayer for help was answered by the Prefect. ”I see you’re lost, right?”
Corpse stiffened, her shoulder rolling back and her figure standing tall like a sort of military personnel. She nodded, lips sticking together as her brows failed to retreat to their original form. The Prefect laughed, she looked beautiful, the younger noted, though she quickly shrugged it off and turned her attention to her senior.
“It’s ok. I was lost on my first day, too. Unfortunately, the girls dorms exceeded the usual quota, so we’re rooming some girls into guys dorms as they’re lacking. Would it be ok with you to room with one?”
Although she initially yearned to decline and offered to just sleep on the floor, she knew it would be best not to make her stay more difficult considering the weight her name now held, a ball chained to her leg and a sore thumb in the eyes of her peers. The black-haired girl stared at the wall behind the ginger and sighed. “That would be acceptable.”
Malory (or Minnie?) clapped her hands blissfully, processing to clasp Corpse’s into her own. “Wonderful! I see you sat close to Malfoy, so I'll room you with him, considering he and his roommate are in one of the suite-like rooms, which house four beds and we’re one Slytherin short, so it’d be just you three!” Despite her cheery tone and the glimmer of her eyes, Corpse didn’t feel that air of disgust that lingered around unusually happy people outside her family. “Odd…” she noted to herself, though she let the older girl guide her to her dormitory. The door was dark oak with silver, almost like a medieval Spanish door from Mio Cid.
With a rushed goodbye, the coldness and familiarity of loneliness graced her side as the Prefect left to handle a couple attempting to sneak out. Corpse stared at the door, knocking and awaiting an answer. In what felt like hours, the door opened to a boy she didn't recognize. He was a pale, rather sickly looking fellow — looking a healthy amount of undead. His eyes looked dark and sunken in, while his nose was rather hooked. Black hair, cut to his shoulders, framed his face. It looked simultaneously healthy yet oily. The boy stared at her as she did him, a look of intrigue plaguing his eyes. Both stood there for a bit before he moved aside and let her in. Miraculously, her luggage was already next to one of the beds. Scanning the room, she noticed a lack of chaos. No clothes thrown around, no brooms on the floor with a quidditch set halfway across the room from it, no lost glasses or missing socks. The walls were far apart but drained her eyes, she assumed this is what hell looks like, though her mother was a strong contender. Regardless of her thoughts now, she had to stay here. No James, only two stuffed animals, and a bed unlike her own. “Only seven years,” she chanted to herself, “just get through till the winter… gods, must it be this cold? do they deem us real snakes?”
Malfoy was focused on his corner of the room, barely sparing a glance before continuing on with his task at hand. The other guy, who silently said his name was Snape, didnt stray from his side either. So, like she did in her summers before, she unpacked and organized. A Jimmy Page poster here, a few suitcases under the bed for extra storage, an alarm clock on the dresser and a turntable by the floor. Her mission dragged on till the better part of the night. From what she heard, tomorrow would be a free day for first years to explore the castle and adjust to being away from home. Her heart ached as she finished, settling into bed with tied hair in a bonnet, her skincare long since applied. Her routine of years prior, for now, remained unchanged. Her now finished book rested on her nightstand, her covers were perfectly warm, not to mention she had water beside her from the Slytherin kitchen (which was surely not allowed, but it benefited her so she did not dare call it out). Originally, she had planned to drift off as always. Eyelids closing the second they need to and her mind wandering through a catalog of its own creation. But, as her body shifted and her limbs wrestled the sheets, Corpse found slumber to be slipping past her fingers. And, without much thought or warning, she grabbed Teddy and a pillow, put on her fuzzy cat slippers and walked out the door.
The common room was cold and strange, perhaps parties didn't really drag on as late as Mary had said they did. Green ambience was replaced by the blue-ish tint of the water’s reflection of the moon, the light presenting her a way towards the giant doors of the dungeon. Although the common room was cold when she arrived, it somehow reached a freezing state that cracked her bones. It was a familiar feeling she couldn't quite place, but it persisted as her steps reached the doors. She gently pushed, to no avail. Continuing her escape, she pushed her whole body before Lucius appeared next to her, causing goosebumps on her arms. She expected him to yell, mention a letter to a father or a complaint to Slughorn, whom they learned was their Head of House. Instead, the blond nudged her out of the way and proceeded to rhythmically hit the knob against the door. With little noise, the doors opened away from them, but before she could thank him he was walking away. Her breath hastened as she carried Teddy and her pillow. Though her feet guided her journey, she had not a clue where she would be heading. Well, her heart had an idea. The journey was long, and she heard the Prefect say something about Filch and warned of being caught by the man, so she walked as quietly as she could, mimicking her cat. Cold walls, sleeping portraits, and rather frustrating stairs made her mind go in circles figuring out where the tower could be. Before long she had to stop and catch her breath, her heart racing and her eyes wandering.
She stood silently as something rubbed against her leg whilst she leaned on a wall. Looking down, she met the eyes of a black cat. “Percy?” she whispered, eye vigilantly flickering between the yellow eyes and the moving staircases in front of them. Her legs bend as she reaches his level, “what are you doing here?”
“Meow.”
She smiled, letting him do as he pleased whilst her heart melted. Patience did grant her wish as a stair connected in front of them, so she bolted up it, reaching a portrait of the fat lady her parents told her about. It was a big portrait, tall enough that the lady appeared more like a giant than a woman. Around her were more paintings, all of which were fast asleep — it must be exhausting to be hung all day like art. She stood in front of the entrance, shoulders still as she moved her hand up, her lips almost bleeding from how hard she bit down on them.
The woman looked at her, sized her up, then proceeded. “Who are you?”
“I’m Corpse Potter. I- uh… my brother’s in Gryffindor.” She grabbed her teddy bear from where it fell and returned to look at the lady. She was unamused, her brows struck in the same place as her mouth crooked.
After what felt like minutes, the lady spoke. “Well, Miss Potter, I hope you know i do not let just anyone in, especially non-Gryffindors who don’t have the galls of finding out the password. But, given your legacy, I will allow it this once.” Her face held a frown and almost a disappointed glint in her eyes.
Corpse thanked the woman before the portrait moved opened and let her in. The room was red and warm, like a freshly lit fire by the Christmas tree at home. She flinched slightly at the portrait’s closing, looking back to see if Percy stood beside her, which he did. Though he seemed much more interested in laying on top of the fireplace than actually following her. “Lazy cat,” she murmured. It took a bit to figure out she needed to head up the stairs. The steps were grand and rather gold, she felt almost like Dorothy, except her Toto would prefer to be in Kansas or Oz than be here, a part of her soul ached at the thought of being with her muggle friends and exploring the world. Yet, this was her mother’s choice, so she had no say in leaving behind the world she so longed to be a part of. She remembered how the world dimmed when she was told of the decision. Though she celebrated with James, part of her bones ached and she barely slept from the tossing and turning created from the ever present voice in her mind. She took her chances with the right side of the stairs and moved upward. She saw the stops and assumed the first years must be on the higher floors, as the seventh years seemed to be on the first floor of dorms and followed by the sixth years in the floor above. After an ache in her legs and enough breathing she was surprised she was still alone, she made it to the 7th floor. She scanned the halls and found a room with James’ and Sirius’ initials. Figures.
If she knew anything about her brother, it was his refusal to sleep with a locked door. Their house was full of love, in parts, and security. To ensure trust and, according to old dreams of a young mind involving dragons and dark wizards, protect them in case anything happened or they needed to leave quickly. As expected, the knob twisted easily. Four boys slept soundly, which is how she realised James was awake as well. His glasses sat on his night table and she moved towards that, setting her pillow and matching teddy bear on the giant bed. James stirred and faced her, he offered a thin smile before letting her get in. Somehow, in her soul, she knew it’d be ok — but she never did distinguish between hope and intuition.
“Buenas noches, Jaime.”
“Buenas noches, Dios te bendiga.”