Save Yourself

Save Yourself - Chapter Three

Many First Year students look back on their first glimpse of Hogwarts and say how vast, how large, how wonderfully intimidating it looked; my first thoughts were quite to the contrary. Just as I had reacted the first time I met Draco, I met Hogwarts with rather sarcastic disbelief;

That’s it?

For my entire life, I had been hearing stories about Hogwarts and how I was going to spend the best years of my life within the castle. At the exact moment I first saw the school, my pride was still bruised from the blows Draco and I had exchanged earlier, and I was in absolutely no mood to even consider being amazed by something as simple as a castle. Call me spoiled, call me a brat, but it’s the truth. I never lie if I can help it.

The foyer and the Great Hall was nothing to goggle at, truly; I had been inside fortresses larger than this, and if Hogwarts was going to impress me it certainly wasn’t going to do so with size. During the Sorting ceremony, I spent a great deal of time staring at the back of Draco’s head, trying in vain to figure out exactly what he was thinking. He hadn’t come back into the compartment after he went off looking for Potter, so I assumed he had made some sort of friendly contact with him and I was eager to find out exactly what was said.

As Professor McGonagall, a black-haired witch destined to become a nuisance to not only me, but my entire house, called my name, I walked to the front of the small crowd of First Years and placed the Sorting Hat upon my head, fighting back the impulse to wipe my hands on my robes as they came in contact with the grimy thing.

Ahh, Miss Parkinson… You’re much like your family, I see. Cunning, ambitious, with an incredible thirst to prove yourself – I believe the house most suited for your needs would be -

“SLYTHERIN!”

With a feeling of indifference, I allowing Professor McGonagall to take the hat from me as I walked over to where the Slytherin tables was cheering half-heartedly and took a seat next to Draco, who had been motioning for me to sit next to him.

”I see you plan on living up to your family’s heritage,” he said snidely, the ever-present smirk on his face seemingly expanding. “A valuable quality.”

I shrugged, not knowing quite what to say.

”A Parkinson never disappoints,” I said mildly, my eyes scanning over those who were to be my housemates for the seven-year stay. I saw Crabbe and Goyle seated across from Draco, while the seat to his left hadn’t been filled yet.

”And neither does a Malfoy,” he stated calmly with little interest in the topic of conversation itself.

The rest of the feast went fairly well, the highlight being as the ghost of Slytherin – the Bloody Baron – sat down in the empty seat to Draco’s left, making him cringe with intense hatred towards the spirit. The Baron, however, didn’t seem to notice.

Afterwards, we were led down into the dungeons where the Common Room entrance was concealed among the damp stone walls, making the piece of wall absolutely impossible to locate unless you knew exactly where it was; a clever trick to hide the prideful House’s secrets.

My dorm mates and I were shown to our dorm immediately after a tour of the common room and a layout of basic House rules had taken place, in which very little was learned. One of the only rules the House seemed to enforce strongly was that House loyalties run deep, and anyone to form an alliance with another House member was instantly seen as a traitor and punished accordingly.

Not that we couldn’t have friends from Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff; their values and qualities were tolerable to Slytherins. Gryffindor, however, had been the Snake’s enemy since the beginning day of Hogwarts, and anyone to ignore those deep roots was left to the mercy of his or her housemates.

I immediately picked the bed farthest away from the door as my dorm mates and I entered the room, leaving no room for arguments. There were only two other girls in my dorm – a fat, broad-shouldered girl with a thick jaw by the name of Millicent, and a small, red-headed Irish girl by the name of Blaise Zambini. The three of us were reluctant to talk to one another at first, but the ice broke easily as Blaise started talking about the sorting.

”I knew there was no way I would have been sorted into Gryffindor – those idiots can’t tell their left foot from their right,” she smirked in a way that reminded me terribly of Draco, “Daddy will be proud when I tell him how quickly the hat chose me for Slytherin.”

”I think I’d rather be in Hufflepuff than Gryffindor,” Millicent stuck out her tongue as she changed into her pink, flowery nightgown. “At least Hufflepuffs have some common sense.”

I said nothing, merely nodded and agreed, until the subject reached the other boys of their year.

”That pair of hulks – Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle? They’re awful!” Blaise exclaimed, brushing her hair with more care than was necessary, “Terrence Nott didn’t seem too bad though – but God, did any of you see Draco Malfoy? He’s an Earthbound God!”

Millicent threw herself onto her bed dramatically, “He was so adorable! Father said I had to find a suitable boy to bring home to him for talks of – well, you know,” she giggled embarrassingly, “If I brought home a Malfoy, he’d absolutely die of happiness!”

”He’s cute,” I put in indifferently, “But he’s a git.”

Millicent sat up immediately, “How on Earth could you say that about him!? You have no right to say that about that blonde-haired God!”

”I’ll say whatever I want, thank you,” I glared at the mousey-haired cow, “And until you’ve talked to him, don’t you dare go around defending him.”

”Yeah, like you’ve actually talked to him,” Millicent crossed her arms and leaned back against her pillow, pouting slightly after I told her off.

”She did,” Blaise spoke up, “I saw him wave her down during the Sorting – is he really that bad? You can’t just stare at him and ignore his personality?”

I shuddered, “His personality’s as awful as they come, and I certainly wouldn’t recommend bringing him home, Millicent. He may talk his way onto the execution block or something.”

Millicent refused to speak for the rest of the night, her bulky form quivering slightly under her down comforter. While it may have been rather damp down in the dungeons and Common Room, the dorms were suited nicely for living.

Blaise and I talked for perhaps ten minutes longer before we finally bid each other good night and blew out the candles, climbing under our own comforters and falling asleep almost immediately.