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P.O.V. Daphne Greengrass

The Great Hall’s magnificence is, as always, only diminished by the presence of the undeserving populace. Truly, that Dumbledore is allowed in the building speaks for him and speaks much more strongly against the Ministry. Not that they are any better, but according to recent rumours they at least realise that giving power to Dumbledore diminishes their own power. It only took them several decades to get there. Maybe she should send them a gift with an appropriately condescending card.

That the Senior Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic herself is seated along the high table indicates that the ministry is attempting to take back some of their ‘rightful control’. And that multiple pureblood families were approached to make it happen proves it. However, in Daphne’s humble and private opinion, it is too little and far too late. No matter what this woman intends to do, there is no way she would get any real control over Hogwarts.

Dumbledore’s movement pulls her attention from the, frankly terribly dressed, woman to the honest to Merlin throne the headmaster occupies daily. He, predictably, stands up to address the student body. Less predictable however is that she has not caught a glimpse of the first years yet, surely any announcements worth making would concern them as well.

Careful not to move anything else she uses the tip of her foot to lightly tap Astoria. She catches her in the shin, but her sister knows better than to startle and simply turns her attention to the proceedings instead of conversing lowly with her year mate.

“Welcome, dear students! To another year at Hogwarts! This year will bring some changes with it, that I will speak about as soon as the sorting has been completed. However, for right now there is someone else to introduce. Please welcome our transfer student from Illvermorny.”

She hasn’t noticed the young man standing close to the head table before, but now he definitely has the attention of the whole school. Still, he doesn’t seem overly bothered, simply walking up to the sorting hat and allowing it to adorn the crown of his head. Where it remains for a slightly below average time before announcing: “SLYTHERIN”.

He stands, places the hat upon the stool again and gives a shallow nod, either to the teachers or to the hat, she can’t tell. The rest of her house has already started clapping politely, and the other houses do the same, in a much more reserved manner.

She catches sight of Harry Potter and his followers sticking their heads together in rabid gossiping before a Ravenclaw student moves and blocks them from her view. Typical Gryffindors, always accusing other of talking behind someone’s back while being the worst gossips in the whole school.

The transfer student moved very close to the table while she was distracted and seems intent to take a seat in the gap that occurs naturally between the years. Exactly opposite to her. She so dislikes new players entering a game halfway through.

He sits down, at least he is unobtrusive, and the first years enter the hall, breaking the relative silence with their nervous chatter. Since nobody she paid any attention to is being sorted this year, she decides to let herself be drawn into the conversation Pansy was obviously gearing up to initiate.

“Merry meet, my name in Pansy Parkinson. Welcome to House Slytherin.”

“Merry meet Parkinson, I am called Kai Shinra. How welcome I am remains to be seen, however I’m sure we will find an acceptable middle ground.”

That was unexpectedly frosty. It probably is a wise decision on Shinra’s part. Slytherins are very open about their opinions on mudbloods, and Shinra certainly isn’t a well-known pureblood name, not even in the States. He could have pretended to hail from a smaller family of less distasteful origins; however, it would have likely blown up in his face sooner or later. Avoiding the inevitable fallout by being upfront with this otherwise potentially damning secret truly isn’t unwise. It is hard to blackmail people with public information after all.

The food appearing stalls Pansy’s answer for a moment. The mudblood didn’t react to the house elf magic in any way, so at least he isn’t completely out of place.

“Merry meet Shinra, my name is Daphne Greengrass.”

Normally she would not interrupt, it is impolite. But if Pansy gets a chance to put down the first mudblood to sort into Slytherin in a decade she will be unbearably smug for the rest of the year. And Daphne can barely stand her general condescension already.

“Merry meet.”

His reply is more clipped now and she feels a brief annoyance flare up in her. It doesn’t matter however, and the annoyance dies out almost immediately. At least he has more manners than most blood traitors she can name. 

Shinra turns to his meal, which he consumes with acceptable table manners, to her great relief.

Pansy lost interest when Daphne stopped her fun and completely turns away now that he ceased paying attention to the people surrounding him. Daphne allows herself a slow exhale and angles her body slightly towards her sister. The conversation she was engaging earlier had died out by now and they can hopefully spend the rest of the welcoming feast in relative peace.

The mashed potatoes disappear first, the house elves always remove the biggest plates and bowls before all others, though she cannot fathom why. With the amount of elves in the castle one would think they could vanish all the food at once. It isn’t really her business however, so she just surveys the desserts that appears as soon as all the dirty plates have also vanished.

Astoria’s favourite is always served in too small quantities, so when she sees it within reach, she serves her little sister a portion, getting a small smile in return.

The head table seemed restless for a while now, so it was no great surprise when Dumbledore stands again before the feast has even vanished. Well, she corrects herself, it hasn’t vanished from the Slytherin table yet. The Gryffindors seem ready to leave already.

“Now that we have been watered and fed, you ought to know a few things. The forbidden forest remains forbidden, this is important for the first years, but a few older students would do well to have learned it by now. Additionally, Mr. Filch, the caretaker, has asked me to state, for what he assured me is well over the 500-th time, that magic is expressly forbidden in the corridors and between classes, along with an exhaustive list of items that can be found pinned to Mr. Filch’s office door for the whole year.

“Furthermore, there have been some changes in staffing this year as well. Firstly, Professor Grubbly-Plank has returned to take over the Care of Magical Creatures classes. We also welcome Professor Umbridge, our new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher.”

The half-hearted applause dies out too soon to be truly polite. At least they replaced the half giant. The Ministry approved professor stands, not that it makes much of a difference, and Dumbledore doesn’t even attempt to end his greeting, falling silent in favour of watching the scene play out.

“Hem. Hem.”

Dumbledore stares for another moment before he sits, in the Merlin forsaken throne, looking for all the world as if he desires nothing more than to listen to her.

“Thank you for your kind words, headmaster.”

And truly, she has to be the worst politician in existence. The tone, the timing and her choice of words are all terrible and if she never speaks again it would be too soon.

“Hem, Hem.”

Is she sick? Does a sickness exist that would require making such a vile sound before speaking? Death would be kinder.

“It is truly lovely to be back! And even more lovely to have all those happy little faces looking up at me.”

Is it her intention to condescend the whole student body into hating her in the span of the first evening? Because the seventh years look ready to hide her body. Not to mention Draco and Pansy who look comically insulted, given how often they act like children. Daphne refocuses on the dessert before her, long since having learned that nothing important could possibly pass those lips in the next few hours. A bad politician she may be, but she clearly is one and those never get to the point.

Not only does she manage to finish her dessert despite making sure to savour it carefully, but she also even has time to catalogue who of her year mates seems to be dying of boredom. Just so she knows who would have reliable gossip on the contents of the drivel that was falling from Umbridge’s lips with little to no prompting.

Draco is listening with half an ear, that will be enough for him, having lived with his father his entire life. Pansy is pretending to listen while also not paying attention at all. Millicent listens, mostly because Pansy doesn’t, and she will want to know later. Millicent is clever like that, and she will probably be able to repeat most of the speech word for word. Blaise and Theodore don’t even try to look interested, talking in hushed tones instead. And they aren’t the only ones, the whole hall has lost the respectful silence that permeated the atmosphere when Dumbledore was speaking. Vincent and Gregory predictably haven’t for a single minute stopped eating. And Shinra is looking at Umbridge with not a single indication to what he might be thinking.

“There again, progress for progress's sake must be discouraged, for our tried and tested traditions often require no tinkering.”

Umbridge doesn’t even try to hide her political believes. The “tried and true traditions” likely are pureblood supremacy and festivities. That should be fairly obvious to someone well versed in politics, but maybe he hasn’t noticed. She doesn’t think that is the case, however. Listening to people in power stating that you are worthless is not something people can easily do without showing contempt on their face. Maybe she will have to keep an eye on him after all.

Even the worst speeches have to end, and when Umbridge takes her place at the head table again, Dumbledore is the only one clapping for any reason other than politeness. Granted his motivations aren’t pure either, but at least he is trying to look fascinated.

Draco and Pansy are pushing their plates away already, dutifully prepared to lead the first years, and Shinra, down to their common room. Dumbledore finally dismisses them after making the rest of his announcements and Daphne resigns herself to another speech once they reach their common room.

“First years! Gather here, we will lead you to the Slytherin common room. Tomorrow, we will lead you back to the Great Hall, but next week you will be expected to find your own way through the castle.”

She watches with some amusement how the small children listen to Draco speak, as if he ever said anything worthwhile without multiple people needling him first. And then she turns to leave first. The upper years are not released yet, but they don’t have to listen to the introduction to Hogwarts the prefects give every year.

The winding corridors of the Dungeons are truly a second home to her by now. She would have found her way to the common room blind and deaf without major trouble. As soon as they arrive the head girl announces the password to be ‘draught’, easy to remember and not even the first thing other houses would guess. Most other houses would try ‘pureblood’, ‘pure’ and ‘mudblood’ first. As if they would be this obvious, most of the time the password is a potion ingredient or another.

The students enter the common room in an orderly fashion and choose a set of furniture to observe the coming introduction. Unsurprisingly the most notable groups are by year, every year sees themselves as to mature to interact in a meaningful way with the lower years if a relationship wasn’t already established outside of Hogwarts.

Shinra displays an unexpected amount of sense by not sitting with them. He doesn’t even consider it for a single moment, instead he remains close to the entrance, without hindering whoever might wish to enter. Clever of him.

The wall opens so abruptly she can see some of the second years jump. Undignified children. And yet, she was no better when she was twelve.

Their illustrious Head of House entered at a far too fast pace to be dignified. She was surrounded by plebians. That thought was buried beneath all her thought about the feast so quickly it barely had been there, Snape was known to be an accomplished occlumens, there was no telling whether that was the limit of his skill in the mind arts. There were, however, rumours of his legilimency skills.

“Slytherins, I’m sure you have had enough of speeches this evening. However, some things remain to be said. Firstly, the first years are part of this House from today on, they have not however, relished in the teachings of Slytherin before. As Slytherins it is your duty to make sure none of them fall behind in any way. If any bullying or inappropriate conduct is witnessed, especially if it leaves the bounds of Slytherin, you will step in. Not by yourself, but by making sure the situation is resolved as cleanly as possible.

“Secondly, I trust that the fifth years will ensure that your newest addition is up to date. For the next week do show him around when he appears lost and do not allow his academic performance to plumet. Mr. Shinra will share a dorm with Misters Goyle and Crabbe. If the two of you would guide him up, I’m sure there is some unpacking to be done.”

Vincent nudges Gregory to make sure if they are actually supposed to move now, which proves to be a fruitless endeavour as Gregory didn’t listen. In the end, Millicent kicks Vincent in the back to get them to move and both of them gesture for Shinra to come with them. This too was wholly unnecessary, as Shinra had given a low nod vaguely in Snape’s direction and already moved towards the stairs.

She didn’t, in truth, expect for their Head of House to dismiss Shinra completely. It boiled down to him being a mudblood, but now one of them will have to fill him and Vincent and Gregory in later. It is all just very unnecessary, and she doesn’t appreciate it being her partial responsibility.

They were long gone when the first years are led inside by Draco and Pansy, still silent out of respect for the prefects leading them, but openly appreciative of the common room. The windows showing the black lake and submerging the outer sides of the room in green light catch their attention first. The windowless walls are illuminated by the fireplace, which makes the small engravings on dark wood visible to even the more unobservant Slytherins.

Until she sees the badly hidden awe on the faces of their new students, she didn’t realise that neither awe nor wonder were visible on Shinra’s face. Not a single unguarded moment was spent simply looking at the magnificent sight that is Slytherin’s legacy. She suppresses a light frown, truly, she will have to keep an eye on him.

Draco and Pansy make their way over to them, taking their places. The middle sofa was left empty for them, but with Vincent and Gregory gone their set looked prohibitively empty. Blaise filles Pansy in about the whereabouts of their missing year mates, not that he counts Shinra among them, and she leans over to tell Draco who relaxes marginally. He is still tense, and she wonders what that is about. Not that she would ever pry, but Blaise might.

“Welcome to Slytherin. The night isn’t young anymore and you will have to wake up early tomorrow, so we will just go over the house rules once. I trust that you all know appropriate behaviour and do not need to be taught manners by anyone, so rules stemming from common sense will not be stated.

“Slytherin is a united House, the other Houses do more than enough to tear us down, there is no acceptable reason to do the same within your own House. Any conflict that emerges here will be dealt with within these rooms.

“You can ask any student in House Slytherin for help. At the very least they will direct you to a prefect. If the prefects feel the issue is not something they can deal with, or if you feel the issue needs my attention, my office is open after classes and until dinner.

“You will be shown your dorms by your prefects now, have a pleasant night.”

Draco calls the boys to himself and leads them up the stairs, while Pansy does the same for the girls. And after them the years file up into their quarters with the younger years leaving first. It takes a predictable amount of time until her year has it’s turn, but Draco and Pansy have not returned, likely not caring enough to come down just to go back up again. Not that she wouldn’t have done the same.

***

P.O.V Blaise

Theo’s hand in his own is dearly needed. A respite from an underlying pain, so constant it had faded into the background months ago. It soothes an itch he had barely been aware of, and until it was gone, he hadn’t realised just how distracting it was. It’s a wonder that he got through the entire summer break with number 7 at home while also keeping up with his studies like this.

At least he isn’t likely to meet number 7 ever again.

Theo is much too unwilling to touch him in public and even in the Slytherin common room, he restricts himself to hand holding only. It is a pain. He knows why Theo does it, but that doesn’t make it easier to bear.

The Ministry Professor is going to be trouble, he can already tell. But if her actions continue to limit the amount of undisturbed time he can spend with Theo, she is going to be the one in trouble. Really, how someone can talk for so long without saying anything worthwhile is a mystery.

On the other hand, she did interrupt Dumbledore, which is the most entertaining thing a teacher has ever done during the welcoming feast, so maybe he will leave her be. He will be much more lenient once the itch is gone completely anyway.

Speaking of which, Theo finally starts moving to their room. Draco knows better than to disturb a long overdue cuddling session. They might even get some time to themselves, if he is going to check up on Goyle and Crabbe.

Wishful thinking, it turns out. When Theo opens the door Draco is sitting on his bed, fidgeting with a book, but not really reading.

“Hey, Draco.”

Time to check if little Malfoy is in the mood to talk.

“You’re finally here. Close the door, will you?”

Sadly, that is a yes. He can’t stop his hand from tightening around Theo’s, if Theo wants him to sit on his own bed and let go right now, he will do it. But not without complaining.

Luckily Theo knows how to read situations better than most and he also has his priorities straighter than he will ever be, so he just drags Blaise to his bed and sits down so close to him their entire sides touch. And then he throws an arm over Blaise’s shoulder and rests his head against him. Almost immediately the itch gets drowned out by the unrealistic levels of comfort he is experiencing.

The silence drags on for so long he considers changing into more comfortable clothes and hoping Theo would lie down with him. The thought is so attractive he is going to say something when Theo pulls him closer. That wipes any and all plans to move right out of his head and then Theo gives him a firm squeeze, indicating that, yes, he knew what Blaise was about to do, and, no, he doesn’t think it is a good idea.

Mercifully, Draco finally puts that book that he was definitely not reading away a moment later, he probably purposefully tested how far Blaise’s patience would reach.

“Dolores Umbridge. What do you think of her?”

Blaise is read to admit that he didn’t know her first name until now.

“She is entertaining, but I can see how her being here could go badly.”

There, simple and true. Theo started drawing little circles on his arm and any longer explanation will have to wait while he enjoys the feeling.

“I personally don’t exactly mind her, for now. But if things do ‘go badly’ I will make sure it hits her harder than it does us.”

That’s Theo, short and precise not because he wouldn’t be able to articulate a longer answer but because he said everything that is worth saying.

“Father… Father said not to act directly against her. The Minister needs an illusion of control and unfortunately, he decided to test it on Hogwarts instead of some Quidditch event.”

When his head is clearer, he might mull over that statement some more, but for now he only hears that Darco is expected to play politics with someone thrice their age, at least. That sucks. It also isn’t his problem, so he just nestles his head into the crook of Theo’s neck.

“We will make sure not to step on your toes, then. If nothing else, we will inform you early enough that you can save all potential investments you make in her.”

“I am glad we see eye to eye. Now I am going to check up on Vin and Greg, have a productive evening.”

There is some hope after all. If by productive he means not letting go of Theo, that is certainly something Blaise can accomplish. If he expects him to do anything else, he will be sorely disappointed though.

When the door closes, they stay still for another minute before he pulls Theo along him while letting himself drop backwards. The result is him being spooned by Theo, a truly delightful experience, even if he would prefer facing him as well.

“I’m sorry, Blaise. I didn’t realise it got that bad. I should have told Draco to fuck off.”

He only manages an unintelligible noise as a response, but Theo doesn’t really need one, they talked about most of their problems before, and telling Draco to go fuck himself is not something they can easily do. Mainly because they owe him for keeping their relationship a secret.

What they can do however, is getting up to change and then go to sleep. A whole night of cuddling might not erase the symptoms he was suffering over the summer, but it will alleviate them. And really, they have more than enough time to catch up now that they are going to live in one room for the rest of the schoolyear.

Theo starts drawing small circles on the flat of his stomach. It tickles a little, but he would rather die than tell him to stop. Instead, he relaxes into his partner and lets the pleasure make him boneless.

There is no way they are going to get up again.

As he fades out of consciousness, he is dimly aware that they didn’t change. And they didn’t close the curtains around the bed either. He grabs his wand to set an alarm, slightly earlier than normal, since they haven’t unpacked at all either, and then sleep takes him.