Disclaimer: See Chapter 1
Lily meets and greets. A chapter of snakes.
Chapter 8: The Serpents' Den
Lily was not afraid, not exactly, sitting at the Slytherin table; but she was certainly on her guard. This seemed to do her no harm with her new housemates. Based on Severus' briefing the night before, the handsome blond boy on her right was Draco Malfoy, the spoiled son of an escaped Death Eater. Severus was concerned about him, for this year Draco was alienated and sullen. The world he had taken for granted all his life was collapsing around him, with his father's imprisonment and flight, and the confiscation of much of the family's holdings. Friends had fallen away: his girlfriend had told him it was time to "see other people." Slytherin was accustomed to hostility from the other houses, but the present political situation had made it a house divided.
The dauntingly well-groomed boy to her left would be Blaise Zabini, whose cosmopolitan family had a long history of remaining carefully neutral. It had served them well for centuries, as they quietly amassed fortunes in both the magical and Muggle worlds. Blaise had effaced himself in his earlier years at school, but now he was well positioned to challenge Draco for supremacy amongst the sixth year boys of the house.
The girls were a special problem, and one Lily was unsure she could handle well. Only a few days ago, from her perspective, she had been living in the Gryffindor girls' dormitory, and it had never been an unqualified success. She was the only Muggleborn there, and there were not even any halfbloods with whom she might have had more in common. She had learned a great deal from the girls about wizarding society: principally that her place in it would always be lower than theirs.
Honoria Fudge, and the McDougal cousins, Flora and Heather, had frequently pointed out her great good fortune in Sorting into a broad-minded house like Gryffindor, one that would tolerate "her kind" if they were "nice." They had shown little compassion for the ignorant Muggleborn when she had first come to Hogwarts, and she had been within an inch of going home several times that first year. Only the thought of Petunia's triumphant "I told you so!" kept her there.
Well, courage and tenacity had paid off well for her. She was the prefect: the popular, pretty one. She was top student in Charms and Runes of her year; and only just behind Severus in Potions, and Potter and Black in Transfiguration. She had earned more O.W.L.s than any other girl last spring, a feat somewhat diminished by the realisation that none of the other girls cared. They had marriage prospects, or family connections that would see them safely into good positions. Lily had only her wits, her talent, her courage, and if it came down to it, her looks.
"Not what you're used to, I daresay," said the voice to her right. "Still, you don't seem very impressed."
Lily gave Draco a slight smile. "Should I be?" She applied herself to the plate of duck and potatoes Anna before her.
"You're not at all what I expected a girl from the wilds of Canada to be like. I certainly didn't expect to see you here."
"Perhaps it's the ability to eat with a fork," she replied, innocently. "When necessary, I can tear at a buffalo shank with my teeth very creditably."
A sharp-voiced girl, with a curiously pug-like face, leaned across the table. "What brings you here? Bad grades?"
Lily looked up and feigned surprise. "No. Are the standards that low here?" Both Draco and Blaise snickered, and the girl bridled. The rest of the table listened intently. "That's not what I had heard. Hogwarts is supposed to be one of the top schools."
Blaise murmured quietly, "It can be. Which classes are you in?" Lily noticed that his hands were exquisitely manicured, the nails buffed to a mirror shine.
All right, she thought, let's see what you make of this. "Transfiguration, Potions, Charms, Defense, History, Arithmancy, and Runes."
Draco asked idly, "What level?"
"N.E.W.T."
"What, all?"
"That's right." She savoured another mouthful of duck with orange sauce. "That what the Headmaster said when he saw my grades. We went over some of it, along with Professor Snape and Professor Lupin, to make sure, but yes, they said N.E.W.T. level for me. Why? Does it matter?" Professors Snape and Lupin, she thought, it still sounds ridiculous! Seeing Remus so grey and weary had been painful: the news that he was a werewolf, and had been, even in their days at Hogwarts—shocking. She wondered how Dumbledore could trust him. She returned to the present, aware that the Slytherins were still looking her over.
Draco remarked to the table as a whole, "Perhaps we have our own Hermione Granger." There were a few nasty laughs.
"Who's she?" Lily asked.
"Over there. At the Gryffindor table---the Mudblood swot with the bush on her head."
Lily carefully did not respond to the word Mudblood. "I have better hair, I think. No resemblance as far as I can see."
"She's made quite a name for herself. Most of the teachers fawn over her, aside from Professor Snape of course. He's our head of House, and he can be trusted to see through a pathetic Mudblood."
Lily shrugged. "Sometimes they try harder. I can't see that it has anything to do with me. When I met with Professor Snape, he left me in no doubt as to which house he thought would suit me best."
Draco sat back in his chair, looking pleased. Blaise courteously passed her some bread rolls. The rest of the Slytherins, following their lead, eased off somewhat.
Draco, seeing Blaise about to speak to her, forestalled him. "I've been remiss, I'm afraid," he said, taking upon himself the role of host. "I believe introductions are in order. I'm Draco Malfoy, sixth year prefect," he began, watching for her reaction. Lily gave him a polite nod. Satisfied, he continued. "The importunate dandy to your left is Blaise Zabini. This," he said, coolly indicating the pug-faced girl, "is Pansy Parkinson, another prefect. You'll be rooming with her." Lily gave her another appraising look. The girl was not exactly ugly. With a pleasanter expression, she could have been appealing. Pansy's look of anxious dissatisfaction, however, did not become her.
"This is Millicent Bullstrode," Draco went on, motioning towards a big girl who eyed Lily with a suspicious stare, which Lily feared was her only expression. "And that is Daphne Greengrass." Daphne was mousy but bright-eyed, much given to watching those around her for their reactions. Playing it safe, thought Lily, I can hardly blame her. It will take some time to sort out the cliques and house politics. Reserve is better for now.
Briefly, she bitterly lamented her Sorting, and her lost opportunity to be with her ready-made friends in her old house. She had always wanted a girlfriend in Gryffindor Tower. She must find a way to keep up her wonderful friendship with Hermione. It might save her sanity in the difficult and disorienting days ahead. And Harry, too, seemed a sweet boy; not at all like James or Sirius, despite Severus' snide remarks. She thought of Severus, and sighed to herself. That boy can hold a grudge like no one else. No—man. It seemed incredible that she would be in his Potions class tomorrow. And then Defense with Remus! She really had stepped through the looking glass.
She stole a glance at Severus, complacently polishing off his dinner. He looked back her surreptitiously; not smiling, of course, but appearing curiously relaxed. He seems happy. I'm glad someone is.
The boy Harry was dolefully picking at his own meal, sitting by Hermione. They were exchanging whispered remarks, and the boy looked over at her wistfully. Lily felt mingled pity and annoyance. Hermione got his attention, no doubt telling him not to look at Lily in public. She would try to befriend the boy; she was perfectly willing to fight for the boy; but she was certainly not going to mother him.
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Afterwards, they led her down to the Slytherin common room. Lily fiercely suppressed a wave of panic. It all felt so wrong. She was entering a foreign land, and was not sure she knew the language. She remembered Severus' advice, and concentrated on keeping cool and controlled.
Draco gave the password, "Semper integer," and they filed in, one after another, going down some wide stairs to reach an impressive underground room, furnished with handsome dark woods and black leather, decorated and lit in mysterious greens and blues. The fireplace was massive, and the blaze there comforting. All in all, Lily thought, looking about her, I quite like it. It was somehow more wizardly than the Gryffindor common room, and she was glad she had had that experience before this.
Draco turned to her and raised an eyebrow. "Do you approve?"
She was able to give him a genuine smile, and some dimples. There, that often works. It did. Draco smiled back responsively. She had always found boys easier than girls. "Very much."
"Please—sit down, and we can meet you properly."
Lily was herded onto the middle of one of the very soft black leather sofas. Draco and Blaise flanked her on either side once more, and she was surrounded and confronted with a group of sixth and seventh-years, evaluating her more frankly than they had in the Great Hall.
"So, you're from Canada?" began a tall seventh year, who introduced himself as Montague.
"Yes, from Rime Island." Her cover story had her family hailing from a wizarding island off the Pacific Coast, remote enough to be unknown to any of the Slytherins or their connections. Better yet, the people she was claiming as her parents had actually existed.
"Parents purebloods, then?"
"Well, yes. At least they were." This piqued their curiosity. "They're dead now. My great-uncle is my guardian, and he didn't want me underfoot, or even on the same continent."
"What happened to your parents?" Pansy asked, narrowing her eyes.
Lily regarded her limpidly. Thank you, thank you very much. Not even a 'So sorry' to hear I'm an orphan.
"Muggles," she answered, and was satisfied at the stir amongst them. "They were always traveling, once I was away at school. They got caught in the middle of some sort of Muggle row."
"They couldn't defend themselves against Muggles?" sneered another boy.
Lily felt she could allow herself to sneer back, in this case. "Some Muggle terrorists set a bomb, and they were caught in the blast. If you know a way to protect yourself from a bomb suddenly blowing you apart with no warning, be sure to let me know!"
Most of the Slytherins were coolly sympathetic. "Filthy Muggle rubbish. One can hardly step outside without tripping over it." Draco said, to murmurs of agreement.
Lily brushed it off. "I'd really rather not talk about it any more. It's still fairly fresh in my mind."
Blaise smoothly interposed. "I'm sure we don't want to upset you, your first evening here. How about some old news?"
Lily gave him a puzzled look.
He smiled, and looked past her to Draco. Catching her eye again, he clarified. "Your pedigree. How far back does it go?"
What is this—a dog show? Lily shrugged. "1652."
Draco resumed control of the interrogation. "Not bad," he said. "Not bad at all. At least nine generations."
"Ten, actually."
He grimaced reflectively. "A Jones. What was your mother's name?"
Lily laughed. "Jones. And the same for all my grandparents but my Dubois maternal grandmother."
A boy standing by the fireplace said, "You know, we might be able to push it back farther, looking at the records of those exiled in 1652. Theodore Nott, by the way."
"Theodore." Lily gave him a nod. "It's really contrary to tradition to look into it. When our ancestors left, they really left and cut all ties. I suppose I might easily be related to everyone in this room, but I couldn't know for certain." She decided she had had enough of the inquisition for now. "I haven't unpacked yet, so you'll have to excuse me."
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She should have guessed that the girls would want to "help" her.
Had the colour not been so relentlessly symbolic here at Hogwarts, the heavy green draperies and deep cushions would have looked rich and inviting. They served, however, to remind Lily constantly of where she was. Nevertheless, this was her home for the next two years, and she must make the best—and the most--- of it. The bathroom, with its capacious green marble tub, surprised her pleasantly. Very posh, very nice. That could be a real consolation.
Pansy sat on her own bed, the one next to Lily's, and examined the newcomer's belongings critically. Lily pulled some toiletries from the trunk, and in disarranging the contents revealed a splendid cloak of white apt fur.
"That's nice," Pansy said with affected indifference, getting up and fingering the garment. Lily glanced at her non-committally, whilst organising some crystal scent bottles on her dressing table. She reached past Pansy to retrieve some other personal items provided to establish her identity, and one of them she fastened to the head of her bed.
Daphne Greengrass cocked her head to one side. "What's that?"
"A dreamcatcher." Severus had told her the theory last night, over their impromptu feast. "It's to ward off nightmares."
"Does it work?"
"Yes." It would not prevent night terrors of the sort Hermione had told her Harry endured, partially induced by the filthy Oldyfart; but Lily need not fear dreaming of Petunia snapping her wand or burning her fashion dolls at the stake.
The girls were watching her every move: Pansy and Daphne were particularly interested in Lily's enchanted ivory and silver brush and comb set, accompanied by an elaborate hand mirror. The Headmaster had gone to great lengths to provide her with the sumptuous trappings of a wealthy pureblood. In the trunk, Lily had also found fragile and exquisite dress robes, and some very lovely heirloom jewelry. Lily saw the girls looking at the mirror and remarked off-handedly, "My mother's."
"Oh," responded Daphne. Pansy raised her brows in acknowledgement. Millicent was still staring at her. Lily wondered about her orientation. She had never had problems in Gryffindor, but she knew other girls who had been troubled (or delighted) by persistent admirers of their own sex. It could be awkward in the same room.
She pulled out a delicate white night dress, embroidered with lilies in white and pale green. This also seemed to pass muster. Lily was tired of their curiosity, and said curtly, "Sorry, but I've a frightfully long day and I must turn in now if I'm to face the morning."
Daphne and Pansy took the hint and moved away. Millicent finally nodded and said, "Lily." Apparently she simply had been occupied with remembering Lily's name and face, and connecting the two. Lily rolled her eyes discreetly. Purebloods and their inbreeding. Being in Slytherin House should give her invaluable opportunities to observe them in their natural habitat. She still had an earthshaking social history of wizards to write, if Oldyfart and his flunkeys didn't kill her first.
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Notes: I have borrowed apts from Edgar Rice Burroughs' Mars series (because I'm very fond of it). Big, nasty, man-eating Arctic buggers with thick white fur.
The Slytherin password might also have been semper purus, but I thought integer is closer to what they think they mean. The Slytherins don't ask her if there are any Muggles on her pedigree, because that would be impossible. The pedigree would be broken at that point, and would start up again with the first of the descendants to have wizarding parents on both sides.
Next chapter: The Potions Slave. Hermione and Snape stumble towards a modus vivendi.