Behind Blue Eyes

Behind Blue Eyes

It's strange, being a Slytherin all your life and not realizing until the very end that it's not what you wanted. Since the first time I set foot in Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, when I was eleven years old and just starting my first year, I knew what my time here would be like: I would be a Slytherin, faithful to the Nott line as always, growing up alongside the fellows my parents had pressed upon me from birth, and at the very end, I would serve the Dark Lord, as was my father's obligation before me. But it just now hit me: I don't want it. I don't want any of it, especially not the Slytherin part.

Now, don't get me wrong, not all the Slytherins are that bad. Malfoy, certainly, can be a bastard anytime he wants without trying, but he's at least smarter than the door to my dormitory. And Zabini, he at least has a sense of humor, even if he does appear an emotionless rock to the rest of the world. But not for the first time, I'm realizing I'm completely different from all my housemates and I wonder how I even got in here in the first place.

Malfoy, I know, does not want to follow in his father's footsteps and become a groveling servant to Voldemort. He will anyway, though, because he's too much of a coward to face his father and tell him how he really feels about it all. I share that with Draco at least: the last thing I ever want to be in my life is a pawn of the Dark Lord's power. However, therein lies the difference: I won't be one. I don't care how much pressure my father puts on me, I won't do it.

Another difference: the very definition of a Slytherin is to be ambitious, and for the rest of my housemates, that's probably true. Parkinson is intent on marrying into the most powerful Wizard family in Britain, and whether Draco likes it or not, she probably will. Zabini already has his hand in the major businesses in Diagon Alley, with the plan of buying out all the dying stores and turning them around. He's a brilliant businessman; I'll give him that. Draco, despite his deep loathing of the idea of being a Death Eater, intends on becoming a powerful member of the Wizarding community, no matter how he does it. I, however, have absolutely no aspirations or ideas of what I'm going to do after graduation. No ambition.

However, when it comes down to it, one of the biggest distinctions I have from all the rest of my house is that I don't want to be a member of the House of Slytherin. Really, truly. I have only realized it recently, but the more I think about it, the more it's true. I don't like living in a dungeon, I don't get any particular pleasure out of antagonizing people, and, believe it or not, I would like to have a few friends.

I wonder if people ever realize how very lonely being a Slytherin is. People look at my sky blue eyes, eyes that under any other circumstances would be considered warm and pleasant, but on me, all they think is ice. I have never known anyone to actually stop and consider the possibility of a Slytherin wanting companionship, and it's extremely disconcerting.

But I digress.

I nearly pissed myself last night, realizing I was thinking about what it might be like to be a Gryffindor. A Gryffindor of all things! I was brought up in Slytherin House; to think such a thought is sacrilege, the notion of which is still embedded in me. Nevertheless, the way I see things, Gryffindors have it the easiest. They can make fools of themselves without anyone thinking differently of them, they aren't expected to get top grades (unlike those intellectually arrogant Ravenclaws), and they win all the awards, too. I'm finding myself actually envying Potter these days. Ten galleons say I would be cursed into next week if any of my fellow Slytherins knew I'd thought that.

I'm sitting at the table nearest the doorway to the Great Hall right now, watching everyone scramble around. It's the very end of our seventh year, and they're getting ready to take the class picture to hang in the Trophy Room. There's Potter himself, standing next to Weasley and laughing about something. Slightly away from him is Macmillan, talking to his girlfriend, Abbot. The Patil twins are there, still the secret desire of every boy at Hogwarts over thirteen, and Brown and Finnegan are talking to them, their fingers interlaced. At this, I'm caught slightly off-guard. When did they start dating? I don't suppose it matters, but I'd always considered myself a fairly observant person. Malfoy is off in one corner of the room, trying to brush off Parkinson and failing, but the one person I'm seeking is not anywhere to be seen.

"Nott? What are you doing here? Aren't you going to join in? It's the last week of school, you know. You won't have this chance ever again." Turning around, there she is, the person I've been looking for. Granger.

"I'm not really a party person," I say, smiling slightly.

"Oh, really? Well, neither am I, to tell you the truth. Do you mind if I just sit here with you for a while?"

I shake my head.

Granger. Different type of person, she is. Last October, I was assigned to do a project with her in Transfiguration, and it had been over the course of the two weeks the assignment had taken that I had finally begun to question what I really wanted out of life.

"What are you doing after this?" she asked politely, a slight undercurrent of curiosity in her voice.

"No idea, really. I'm moving out of my father's house. You?"

She laughed slightly. "That sounds like Ron." I really don't know how to take this, being compared to a Weasley. Once, I would have been incredibly offended by it, but times have changed since then. "I'm going into the Ministry, starting off in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. I doubt I'll be doing anything but pushing paper for a while, though." She laughs again.

"Sounds riveting," I remark dryly, a small smile playing on my lips.

We continued taking for a few minutes, until Potter called her away to look at something Thomas has in his hands. Watching her retreating form, I wonder what planet she beamed down from. She isn't like anyone I'd ever met before: she treats me just like anyone else, not worried about what House I'm from. Like I said before, no one has actually stopped to consider that a Slytherin might want companionship, but she's definitely come the closest.

I'm not sure where my feelings for her lie, maybe I'm in love, but what is love these days anyway? If I am, it'll go nowhere. She's marrying Weasley in a few months, and they're so wrapped up in each other they have no idea anyone else exists most of the time.

All I do know is that for the first time in my life, it's as if a veil has been lifted away from my eyes and I can finally see the world as it is. Everything isn't as black and white as my father would have me believe, and for once, I wouldn't want to be on the black side even if things were like that. I'm not going to sit back and take orders anymore, like someone's flunky, and really, it's all due to her influence. Because she was kind to me and took the time to look at what was really behind my blue eyes.

I'm not sure where to go anymore. I'm finally aware of how much I don't fit into Slytherin House, and no one else is willing to consider me as a person.

But, I remind myself, does it really matter anymore? Not really. I can see the truth of things now, the gray areas, and that's what really counts, isn't it?

I'm thinking about going to Dumbledore after the year is over and offering up my services, for whatever they're worth. I've nothing else to do, after all. And perhaps, just perhaps, it might help me redefine my person. To let people see that I'm not just another worthless Slytherin, I'm Theodore Nott, an actual person. To show them the man behind the blue eyes.