Chapter Four: I’m Writing My Own Destiny
The morning after the sorting I stood outside of the Slytherin Common room. My fellow Hufflepuffs had given me the location several hours ago, straight before bed. I know that they were wishing I’d go over and join the other Slytherin, but I wasn’t moving from the Hufflepuff house.
Please be awake, I thought desperately, running my fingers through my platinum blond hair. You are sleeping in like the Muggles do!
If we hadn’t been in a school for wizards, I would have been astounded when Hazel stumbled out of the Slytherin Common room, hair tousled, and robes wrinkled. She had her long, thirteen wand in her hand, its holly wood glistening even in the darkness of the dungeons. She had her book bag slung over one shoulder, and already Muggle books were spilling out.
“Hey, Scorp,” my twin muttered sleepily. “This better be good. I had to leave the Quidditch try-out information session because the other Slytherin didn’t want a Hufflepuff stinking up our dungeon. How’d you know this was the Common room?” She said this very fast and without speaking, but I was used to it. Hazel wasn’t an early riser.
“My housemates,” I said.
Hazel looked appalled. “You’re calling Huffelpuff your housemates? Goodness, Scorp, the majority of them are blood-traitors and Mudblood and who knows what else!”
I sighed. If there was one thing that the both of us argued about frequently, it was the importance of blood in the Wizarding world.
Hazel shook her head. “Never mind that. But Scorpius,” I widened my eyes. My twin never called me Scorpius,” what did the Sorting Hat tell you? How can you be in Hufflepuff, of all houses?”
I scuffled my feet. “That’s why I’m here. Can I sit with you and the Slytherin today for breakfast?”
“Why would you want to—“ Hazel trailed off. “The mail?”
“It’s the mail,” I admitted.
Before Hazel and I left Malfoy Manor for Hogwarts, our grandparents— Lucias and Narcissa Malfoy— had told us that if we were sorted into anything but Slytherin, they’d disown us.
But it wasn’t that which scared me. I knew that they would send one of my nightmares to Hogwarts— a Howler. I was certain Hazel was remembering the same memory.
“Of course you can sit with me,” she said. “And if the other Slytherin have a problem with it, I’ll tell them to stick their bloody heads down the loo.”
In spite of my fear of the Howler, I smiled. “Thanks, Grey Eyes,” I said, invoking the nickname I called her when we were small. “Shall we go to the Great Hall and await my fate?”
Just as we settled down at the Slytherin table, the Ravenclaw Quidditch team staggered in, looking as if they had tunneled under ground. Looking up, I saw that the roof of the Great Hall showed images of lightning and thunder.
“How come Ravenclaw already has their Quidditch team?” I asked.
Hazel looked up from her satchel. She had her favorite Muggle book in her hands, Peter Pan by J. M. Barie.
“They want to win this year,” she said,” so is reusing their old team from last year.” She put the book onto the table and opened it, then gazed into my eyes. “Why are you in Hufflepuff?” she asked.
“I’ve decided to write my own destiny,” I said loudly. Immediately a ton of weight was lifted off my shoulders.
Hazel paused and looked up from the world of the Boy Who Wouldn’t Grow Up.
“What do you mean?” Her grey eyes were confused.
“If I were in Slytherin—“ I paused, watching a gaggle of Gryffindor's come to their table. The volume in the Hall increased. “Everyone associates Slytherin with the Malfoys.I thought that if I were in Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw— anything from Gryffindor, Malfoy forbid— the Malfoy would seem a little less restrictive to who I want to be, and my destiny.”
Loud, boisterous talking made our heads turn. Piles of breakfast had just arrived on the tables, and the students were hungrily stuffing their faces.
“So you asked to be in Hufflepuff?” Hazel said.
Before I could ask, however, three six years called down the Slytherin table.
“Hey Malfoy,” one of them shouted,” Why’s your loser of a brother sitting at our table?”
I blushed pink, but Hazel didn’t even turn around. She just rolled her eyes to the thunder storming ceiling and called back exactly what she had promised.
“If you have a problem with this arrangement, go sticking your bleeding head down to loo,” she offered. “Or shut your mouth.”
She turned back to me.
“So,” she prompted. “Did you ask to be in Huffelpuff?”
“I did,” I said. “but now I think that Ravenclaw should have been my choice. I was in a panic and didn’t think!” I grasped my short hair with both hands and pulled in frustration.
My twin nodded. “That was sort of stupid.” She yanked my hands out of my hair. “But you’ll survive. You could be in Slytherin, with the dregs of society.” She pointed down the table where two were hanging from their ankles.
“Not all of them do that,” I said, looking up at the ceiling and floating candles. What else I saw made me almost vomit.
The owls had arrived.