To Roar at a Hiss

To Roar at a Hiss by ZNeko

It's been about four years since I last talked to my best friend, Delia. I don't know why she suddenly changed her attitude towards me that day we got sorted into our houses. I mean, we have been best friends for years.

We both come from well-to-do, pureblood families. We have been friends since I can remember. Our parents were friends back in the day they were in Hogwarts themselves. Her father worked for the Ministry of Magic while my father worked for the Daily Prophet. Our mothers are housewives and they always tend to the both of us. We lived in the same neighborhood so we see each other very often, if not everyday.

When we were younger, we used to always braid each other's hair. I would create one braid for her and she would make two braids, right behind each of my ears. Her older brother, Grant, used to call it pigtails. We called it plaits, just to make it sound fancy.

The day we got our letter to Hogwarts, Grant almost lost hearing on both his ears because we had shrilled so much. We regretted doing so because we were hoarse the next day. And of course, Grant was crossing his fingers that we both get into Gryffindor so he can keep an eye on both of us, being a goody-goody prefect and all.

On August 31^st 1991, the two of us, along with Grant, hopped into the Hogwarts Express, both excited and scared. We sat in one of the carts and she took out a present from her bag. Luckily, I also had a present for her.

"Here," she said, handing me the wrapped present. I gave her hers. Both the presents were small and obviously soft and flexible. And I had a feeling we are giving each other something very similar because we wrapped it the same way. We opened our presents and we realized that they were the ribbons and cloth headbands that we had each given each other in our younger years.

"Hey!" we both exclaimed. We then giggled.

"You gave me your green when we first met," I said.

"And you gave me your red one."

"Yeah. Isn't that funny?"

We braided each other's hair with our ribbons, to waste some time and to forget about our nervousness. It wasn't funny when I realized later that it was the last time we would ever braid each other's hair.

The rest of the way, we played Chess, Exploding Snaps, bothered her brother, and gave him a new nickname: Grunting Grant. Once the train stopped, we hopped off the train and followed a really huge man. A giant, I assumed. Someone from behind us called him Hagrid. We were holding each other's hands as we enter the Great Hall. We were so nervous that we felt each other's hand tremble.

Even though we were nervous and scared, we couldn't wait until the Headmaster, Professor Albus Dumbledore was done with his small talk. After his greetings, the Sorting Hat sang its song.

'You might belong in Gryffindor where dwell the brave of heart. Daring nerve and chivalry set Gryffindors apart...' Certainly not me. I am not brave or chivalrous. I am nervous, not of "daring nerve."

'You might belong at Hufflepuff where they are just and loyal. Those Hufflepuffs are true and unafraid of toil.' I am afraid of toil. Nope. But I am just and very loyal.

'Or yet in wise old Ravenclaws if you've a ready mind, where those of wit and learning will always follow their kind." So me! I love to learn!

'Or perhaps in Slytherin, you'll make your real friends. Those cunning folk use any means to achieve their ends.' Not me, definitively not me!

"Susan Bones!" said an old woman, who I later got to know as Professor McGonagall.

"Hufflepuff!" screamed the Sorting Hat.

"Hermione Granger!"

"Gryffindor!"

"Ellen Mavericks!"

She called my name. Delia held both my hands and did our friendly handshake before I walked towards the stool.

After a deep sigh, the Sorting Hat screamed "Gryffindor!"

'Gryffindor?' I asked myself. 'Good enough.'

I wished myself in Ravenclaw but it doesn't matter to me, as long as Delia and I are in the same house. I was also happy to see that Grant was in the same house as me.

A couple of students later, Harry Potter was called up. I imagined Delia fainting at the sight of him since she had been talking about him during the whole ride. She had a crush on him, I concluded, although she has not even seen him face to face. Harry wasn't that bad looking. He's cute actually. And his eyes were stunning. I felt like I was about to faint myself. Delia turned around at me and pointed towards Harry as he starts to sit on the stool. Delia's face was beet red.

It took a couple of moments for the Sorting Hat to sort him but finally it screamed, "Gryffindor!"

The lot of the Gryffindor Table, me included, stood and cheered him on. He started shaking everyone's hand, including myself. I blushed as he smiled at me. Delia glared at me, but she was smiling.

"Delia Pryde?" said McGonagall twice since Delia didn't hear her the first time.

Delia looked back at me again and managed a nervous smile. I waved at her, showing my crossed fingers and I saw her smile in relief. She sat on the stool, biting her lip, looking around the rest of the students.

"Slytherin!"

My heart sank. Slytherin? My best friend in Slytherin?

Delia ran to the Slytherin table, beside a blonde-haired boy. I then looked at Grant. I saw him, and heard him actually, mutter a couple of curse words. I myself repeated those words in my head.

I didn't eat much during the feast. I was busy waiting for Delia to glance towards my direction, maybe smile, utter a silent 'Hi' or something like that. She never did, that day or ever.

The next day, I saw her in my Double Potions class. I waved at her but she turned back towards the other Slytherins. I noticed that her hair was not in braids but mine was. I sat myself a seat behind Harry and Ron, right beside Hermione. After class, I walked towards Delia as she packs her things.

"Hi Delia."

She coldly muttered a "Hi".

I was unable to say anything but, "So, how's being in Slytherin?" since her housemates were glaring at me as if I was of a different species.

One of the girls, Pansy Parkinson, looked at her and nudged her on the arm. She made a face at her but straightened up as she looked back at me. She smirked, and little old naïve me, though she was about to get friendly.

"Slytherin is the best. So, how is it in Gryffindor?"

Before I could even say how great it was, she came up with a smart remark.

"Bad? I mean, that is the loser house."

I was appalled by what she had said. The other Slytherins started to laugh at me and started calling me 'loser.' The loudest one was that Draco Malfoy. His laughter echoed around the whole Potions room. But that wasn't what hurt the most. What hurt the most was that Delia started it and that she didn't stop them from making fun of me. I though I was her best friend.

I ran to the girl's bathroom, crying my eyes out, in disbelief that those mean words came from my best friend. Hermione saw me and followed me in there. She walked to the stall where I was in and then handed me a tissue from her bag. "Are you alright?"

"No," I said, as I wiped my tears. "Stupid Slytherins."

"Don't pay attention to those Slytherins. They're rotten to the core. They're bad, foul, they're...."

That remark got me mad that I interrupted her as glared. "Delia is not any of those people! She's my best friend since I could remember. She was never like that! She was nice and friendly and..." I choked as I cried once more.

Hermione looked at me in sheer sympathy. "I'm sorry, Ellen. I didn't mean it like that. I believe you. Delia could've been nice and all. But remember you said it yourself. She was ever like that. It's just that mean and nasty behavior goes along with the Silver and Green robes. It's a given. They're expected to act that way."

I sniffled some more, realizing that the rest of Slytherins were horrible at Neville earlier that day in Flying Lessons, especially Delia's new friend, Millicent Bullstrode. I shook of my feelings of sadness and washed my face on the sink.

Hermione placed her hand on my shoulder. "You wanna study with us later? Ron, Harry, Seamus and I are planning to go to the library and you're welcome to come with us." I offered her a smile and said yes readily. She walked me back to the Gryffindor common room and asked me how it is to be a pureblood as I asked her how it is to be Muggle-born.

My heart slowly mended itself the stab wound that Delia pierced into with her sharp tongue as the days passed. I made new friends, not only in Gryffindor but also in Ravenclaw and some in Hufflepuff. I realized that I deserve more than a betraying friend like her.

I tried to talk to Delia again during those days but she never talked to me like she did before we went to Hogwarts. She's always with her new Slytherin friends and whenever she is alone, she would be in this an annoyed mood that it's been hard to talk to her at all.

I planned to give her a last chance to remain friends with me. It was on Halloween of our first year when I had my hair in two plaits, tied with the same red ribbons she had given me the day in the Hogwarts Express. I walked up to her in the Slytherin table, praying that the others would not jump me before I even said a word. I tapped her shoulder but she glared at me as she turned.

"What do you want?" she asked, her lips curled and her eyebrow perched.

"I thought we were friends, Delia," I said, in a melodramatic voice.

She laughed and shook her head in disgust. "I was never friends with losers." She turned back to face her laughing friends.

At that moment, I made myself realize I have to move on like she did. I held my tears in, not allowing her to see my anger.

"Neither was I!" I screamed as I took out the ribbon from my plait and unruffled the braids. I threw one ribbon on her plate, the other right at her face.

"Thanks for not being my friend," I continued as I walked away and headed back to the Gryffindor table.

I heard her gasp worriedly and stumbled as she tried to stand up.

"Ellen, I am so, sorry," she said apologetically.

I know by her voice that she meant what she said. But I ignored her. I ignored her ever since.

That was the last day I ever wore my hair in plaits, nor used any kind of ribbon in my hair. That was four years ago. That Halloween was the last day I ever talked to Delia. That was the last day that I, a Gryffindor, listened to a Slytherin hiss in regret.