The Year of the Snakes

"we may not protect the world, but we protect each other."

*

Miriam eyed the prefect badge sitting on her rosewood dresser with mixed emotions as she thought about all that it represented. When it came in the post with her yearly list of supplies and she saw the look on her father's face, she realized that it was so much more than a pin. For the first time in nearly five years, his smile seemed... genuine. Proud, even. While she had kept her face even and cool, her heart swelled.

"Authority is key," he'd said, his voice gruff and slurred as usual, but even a few glasses of wine couldn't disguise his obvious pride. He gripped her shoulder a bit too tightly, but Miriam was no stranger to faking expressions. Besides, she didn't think that he actually meant to hurt her. "It's the first step to greatness. Gets you a good job until you get a good husband."

All of this came back to her as she stared at the little badge, glinting in the morning sunlight. Yes, she'd certainly paid her dues to earn it. Yes, she knew that one prefect became Head Girl, and then became something successful. Yes, she knew that upholding the family name was the most important and sole purpose of her life.

And yet, her gaze strayed from the badge to her bed, where pieces of parchment lay scattered all over the mattress, a stark contrast to the otherwise-immaculate room.

The clock dinged 10:00 a.m., but she'd been up since four. Inspiration had dragged her out of dream whether she wanted to be awake or not, but the hours blurred together after that. At home, darkness was her true guardian, hiding her passion from her father's shrewd gaze. He had enough reasons to despise his daughter without learning of her real ambitions.

After carefully sliding the pages into her messenger bag, Miriam pinned the prefect badge to her chest, admiring how the light shone off of it at different angles. She knew that just the sight of it would make her father's ever-present frown turn slightly upwards, so she hurried down the beautiful wooden staircase of the Greengrass Manor, dragging her trunk behind her.

"Father?" She called, leaving her things by the front door and walking into the kitchen. "Hello? Anyone home?"

Her smile soon faded as she realized that no one was there. A note sat on the glossy tabletop, hastily scrawled out on a piece of custom stationary.

Miriam,

Something urgent came up at the Ministry. Take care of yourself and stay out of trouble. I will see you at Christmas.

No love, no farewell. He hadn't even taken the time to write his name.

Tears bit the corners of her eyes, begging to cascade down her cheeks, but she refused to cave to her emotions. Breakdowns were for the weak. Instead, she gripped the ledge of the table for a moment and let out a long breath.

"Miss Miriam?" a squeaky voice piped. Winny, the family house elf, stared up at her with two big brown orbs. "You is looking sad, miss. Perhaps a cup of tea?"

"Get out."

Her words cut the air like glass through skin, much harsher than she intended, but no one could see her weakness, not even poor Winny. She shut her eyes to keep the tears in check and to avoid watching the dutiful house elf run from the kitchen.

What did she think would happen? It was stupid of her to think that a badge would permanently alter his feelings. People as a whole were incapable of change. She understood exactly where she existed on his list of priorities.

Miriam Greengrass was an unwanted accident, one that ruined her father's life, a fact that she knew all too well.

*

The sheer amount of Muggles bustling through King's Cross Station always made Miriam's skin crawl. The children darted to and fro, laughing far too loudly for a pubic place, and the adults rushed by, not caring who they knocked into through the process.

Contrary to popular belief, not all Slytherins hated humanity. Miriam didn't dislike people, not exactly. She just didn't like them bothering her. As long as the world left her and a small circle she cared about alone, she saw no reason to retaliate. Like a sleeping snake, she mused, biding its time, snoozing on a warm rock in the sunlight until someone unfortunate wakes it up.

So when a Muggle man with a handlebar mustache nearly plowed her over without even a mumbled apology, irritation naturally prickled through her entire body, which was now sprawled out on the platform. Her fingers twitched for her wand, but that rash thought quickly died out and she settled for a piercing glare. It was a withering expression, one passed down through generations of displeased Greengrasses.

And then, as if being run over by a Muggle wasn't humiliating enough, a familiar voice reached her ears.

"Down on your knees, Greengrass? Bit scandalous, especially in public. I didn't reckon you had a thing for me, but I suppose are human and it's only natural."

Miriam gritted her teeth and scooped her Scottish fold, Whitman, into her arms before the cat could attempt an escape. "Not everyone feels the need to worship the very ground you walk on."

"You could kiss me instead."

"I'd sooner snog the sidewalk."

"Be my guest. It's right there and so are you."

Sirius Black leaned casually against a brick column, flicking a lock of dark hair out of his wandering eyes as he watched the Slytherin girl attempt to gather all of her things from the ground. Instead of offering her aid of any kind, he readjusted his leather jacket and grinned deviously at a few Muggle girls who were passing, his smirk widening when they exploded into giggles.

Once she had collected everything without any help whatsoever, Miriam stood up and shot him a look. "Didn't Walburga teach you how to treat a lady?"

"Of course she did. I just haven't seen one yet."

"Regulus would have helped me up," she quipped, watching his face carefully for a reaction of any kind. Over the years, her silence hadn't been wasted. She knew exactly how to make others squirm. One of her eyebrows raised, begging him to respond.

To her delight, Sirius' perfectly-sculpted features twitched. His jaw tightened. His left fist clenched. His tranquil gray eyes became like two storm clouds.

Miriam noticed this all within a matter of seconds, and as quickly as he revealed his weakness, he covered it back up.

"Well, I'm not Regulus," he said cooly, running a casual hand through his hair. "Most people have picked up on that by now. We're quite different."

"Oh, I know." Miriam stroked Whitman's head absentmindedly. Her lips curved into a smirk as she tilted her head to the side. "He's not a disgrace."

He slid a pair of sunglasses onto his face casually, like that insult didn't really phase him anymore. She supposed that it didn't, considering how often he heard it.

"Wow, that one really stings. Disgrace and proud of it," Sirius retorted, twisting his Gryffindor tie in a way to show it off. "But you, snake, are a disgrace to decent society."

Miriam had just begun to leave, but at his comment, she looked over her shoulder, a cruel smile growing. "I know what you call decent society, Black. Disgrace and proud of it."

Before he could get another word in edgewise, she strode away, her heels solid against the pavement. Despite her run-in with the hasty Muggle man and her rather rude classmate, she still looked as put-together as ever. It didn't escape her notice that her presence turned a few boys' heads, but she kept her gaze forward, uninterested in their attention or their praise.

Platform 9 & 3/4  was nearly as crowded as King's Cross, only it included the occasional backfiring spell and fistfight between rowdy students. Miriam never felt fully safe in crowds. She couldn't maintain control in a constantly-changing environment.

"Miriam!"

Near the scarlet Hogwarts Express, an extremely tall boy with mousy brown hair briefly raised his hand in greeting. She nodded, a small smile spreading across her face as she began to make her way through the crowd to reach him.

"Hello, Devon," she greeted cheekily. Tapping the shining prefect badge on his black button-down a few times, she added, "Nice accessory. It really brings out your eyes."

"Much obliged. Did you grow taller this summer, or did I imagine it?"

"Not an inch." Miriam pointed to her heeled combat boots. Despite being "too Muggle" according to her father, she loved every aspect of them. Black, lace-up, and tall. "Now I'm almost up to your shoulders."

He chuckled. "Quite intimidating, I must say. I'm trembling at the sight of you."

"You should be. I could end anyone in this school with my quill."

Devon reached to mess up her hair, but she slapped him away before he could even try. Raising his hands in mock surrender, he said, "All right, Greenie. All aboard a train where three-fourths of the occupants hate us. After you. Don't lose Whitman, he's trying to get away again. Here, my things are already in the compartment, let me help you with yours."

A light blush rose up Miriam's neck as Devon hoisted her trunk onto the train and offered her a hand up. Kindness always felt foreign, with the majority of the student body scowling at her just for a green tie. Slytherins looked out for each other because no one else did. Her friend was no exception.

Chatter filled the corridor inside the train, as did students. For the most part, Miriam ignored them, but she could feel their glares on the back of her head and hear their whispers echoing in her ears.

"Probably Death Eaters, the lot of them are..."

"I think I'd throw myself off of the Astronomy Tower if I got in Slytherin..."

"...snakes, all of them..."

"I bet half of them have the Mark under their sleeves..."

Both students chose not to respond to these comments, knowing that they would gain nothing for their troubles. By the time Miriam and Devon reached their usual compartment, the one at the very back of the train, their moods had soured significantly. She wrenched the glass door open and plopped into the first empty place. Whitman squirmed out of her arms and launched himself over to the window seat. The girl only shrugged, massaging her temples tiredly.

Devon looked at his friend without a trace of sympathy, understanding that she wouldn't want it. "How was your summer?"

"So-so." Miriam tucked her legs underneath herself and leaned back. "My father was nearly always traveling, so I spent most of the holidays at my brother's house. It's calmer there. I felt like I could really focus."

"Did you tell him?" Devon tilted his head, his brown eyes thoughtful.

"About the book? No, of course not."

"Because he would probably be cool with it, just saying."

Miriam ran her hands down her face, letting out a slow breath. "I know. It's not Harrison I'm worried about."

"Perk up a bit. Routine'll do you good, and I know you love schoolwork, so don't even try to lie about it."

The compartment door slid open, revealing two girls deep in discussion. The blonde sat down next to Devon, while the brunette shoved Whitman and took his spot by the window. 

"-Absolutely does not know when to shut his bloody trap..."

"He's just an attention addict..."

"Both of them are. Two of a kind, honestly, no wonder they get along so well-"

"-And the others are just along for the ride!"

Miriam pulled her knees to her chest and rested her chin on her kneecaps. "Would the two of you like to open your rant to the entire group, or should we just tolerate it individually and slowly go mad in they labyrinths of our brains?"

Miriam met both Dorothea and Eden on her first day of Hogwarts. Slytherin numbers had been dwindling since the start of the war, so the dormitories meant to house four or five students only held three.

Tall, blonde, and willowy, Dorothea was a proud Ollivander, the kind of friend Miriam could safely invite over for a visit. The two had instantly bonded over their love of the arts (Miriam with writing, Dorothea with music), and having the shared experience of belonging to the Pureblood elite aided their connection.

Eden Coldwell was a different story. When the pair found out that their roommate came from a Muggle family, they kept their distance, fearing the consequences of associating with those their parents would scorn. She was independent enough to last most of the year friendless, but one night, Miriam woke to the sound of sobbing. The two girls hesitantly comforted her, giving her tentative hugs while exchanging worried glances the entire time. Even so, it still took the majority of their first year before they considered each other friends.

The three spent the next few years at Hogwarts making names for themselves, and while they were constantly running in different directions, they never left each other behind. Over time, Miriam delved deeper into the worlds inside of her mind, discovering a love for words that she'd never felt for anything else. Her friends kept her grounded, though, with Eden constantly pushing her to her limits and Dot pulling her back to safety when it all became too much.

Dorothea rolled her big blue eyes. "Sirius Black," she huffed in an aggravated tone, "is under the impression that music and noise are synonyms. Spoiler alert: they're not. In fact, they are very different."

"What's he done now?" Miriam asked, exasperated. "I ran into him at King's Cross. Ridiculous as usual."

Eden had turned her head and was now examining her makeup with a critical eye in the window. "Dot and I were attempting to make it to the compartment without problems when this inhumane screeching came out of a compartment to our left. He was in there, Black and the Three Stooges, all of them belting Muggle songs like they were the only ones on the train."

"The who?" Devon asked, confused by the Muggle reference. Eden blew a lock of dark hair out of her face, annoyed by this common occurrence, and kept talking.

"And when we tried to pass by, James Potter sticks his fat head out and looks at us with that stupid grin of his, and he asks, 'do either of you know a word that rhymes with 'Evans'? Because that would be super helpful.' He's so pathetic. Imagine pointlessly chasing someone for five years."

"Are you lot talking about Lily?" Severus Snape asked curiously as he slipped into the compartment. Miriam couldn't help noticing how much shabbier his clothes seemed in comparison to last year, but he also appeared much happier. Seconds later, she discovered why. "She's already told Potter to jump off of the train three times, in case you wanted to keep tally of this year's insults. Might be fun. She usually gets pretty creative with them around exams."

"Nah, I'd run out of parchment within the first week," Eden said dismissively. She picked at her shimmery black nail polish. "No doubt someone else is keeping track, if I really cared that much. And I don't."

"Interesting news, though." Dot reached out to scratch Whitman, who was rubbing himself against her legs and purring loudly. "Lupin's got himself a badge. I saw him wearing it on the platform."

Devon spoke as he retied his emerald and silver tie. "AKA the Marauders have got themselves a badge. It's going to be bloody infuriating. You know how many scrapes he's going to get them out of this year?"

"He gets them out of scrapes with or without a badge," Severus pointed out as he pulled a book out of his bag. "Those three would have been expelled years ago without him. At least Dumbledore didn't give Potter or Black a badge. I wouldn't put it past the old coot at this point."

Miriam shook her head, a mischievous grin spreading across her face. "Doesn't matter that they've got a badge. We've got two."

Laughter rippled through the compartment. An upper hand on the Marauders would most certainly make this a good year.

The group quickly fell into comfortable conversation as the miles flew by outside the window. To the surprise of no one, Miriam retrieved her manuscript from her bag and kept writing, her shoulders hunched over and her nose buried in parchment. Severus continued to read the fifth year's potions textbook, no doubt attempting to get ahead and stay there. A lively game of wizard's chess began between Devon and Dot, with Eden poised to play the winner. The trolley witch poked her head in at one point, and they bought out at least half of the candy cart because they could.

After a little while, Miriam placed her quill on the seat and glanced around, the faintest trace of a smile on her face. Whitman curled up next to her and she stroked his orange fur absentmindedly, her mind finally free to drift as she pleased.

For once, Professor Dumbledore had been somewhat unbiased in his choices. Lucius Malfoy and Narcissa Black had received the honors of being made Head Boy and Head Girl. With them at the top of the student body hierarchy, plus four other Slytherin prefects, there would be no stopping them. Even the Gryffindors wouldn't stand a chance.

It would be the year of the snakes, and after all of the mud the other houses constantly dragged them through, Miriam thought it was about time.

Hello! I really hope you guys enjoyed this first chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it! I'm so excited to be writing the Marauders era from the perspective of someone who isn't originally close to them. (Let's face it, the Marauders were idiots in school, and people would definitely get annoyed with them at times 😂). We still haven't seen most of the Marauders yet, but I warned ya: SLOW BURN

What did you think? Do you like the characters?

Do I have any Slytherin readers? I hope I'm doing your House justice :) I'm just a Hufflepuff who loves Slytherin

Please vote and comment! Support of any kind is appreciated! Have a great day/night/evening/afternoon!!!