Vincent really wasn't a very violent person.
However, he found that as soon as he made it to his dorm room, he wanted to kick the living shit out of something.
He had a bucket full of pent up anger and it was having poor affect on his jaw that clenched tighter and tighter by the second.
Regardless, the most he could do was aggressively unpack his clothes, slamming them into his personal dresser beside his bed, decorated with green and silver curtains that looked a tad bit tacky, but couldn't be helped. He would go for another handful of clothes and slam them in.
He was creating quite the scene, so he was thankful that nobody seemed to be in the room.
He shoved a pair of socks particularly hard into the top drawer and scored his knuckle over the splintering wood.
Vincent cursed out in pain, shaking his hand a little, scraped up to the point of minor bleeding, but nothing serious.
Still, nobody seemed to notice, for better or for worse.
Vincent flopped down onto his bed, robe curling around him slightly as he did so.
He lifted a hand and pressed it to his forehead with an exasperated sigh, gently taking his glasses off and reaching over to set them on top of his dresser before staring at the overhang of his bed.
He wasn't entirely sure why he was this mad. Well, no, that wasn't true, he knew why he was this mad.

Todd, a presumably friendly fellow, had not only spat on his family, but he himself, in multiple ways.

"I can't change my blood, the blighter." Vincent mumbled.

What he wasn't sure about was why he felt the need to be so violent as a reaction to this. He hated meeting poor expectations. And, presently, the expectations for him were spelled out clearly: D-E-A-T-H   E-A-T-E-R. None of this was helping him.
If Vincent had been a part of Slytherin some two or three years ago, hearing that his father was a death eater would have gotten him an open-armed welcome.
However, Slytherin, apparently, was currently trying to rebuild its status and reputation as an honorable house- which meant that Vincent was more or less the plague in a weak village.

After he'd gone to sit at the Slytherin table, nobody would talk to him. The cheers he'd been given had died down and he was left alone, shoved on the way here and left in the dirt to be found by- well, nobody at this point.

His best friends were all in other houses, and Todd- Todd was a completely separate subject, that Vincent chose not to dwell on all that much.

Vincent continued with his unpacking until he finished with a sigh.
Despite the time that had passed, nobody but a sleeping student was in the boy's dorm room.
He frowned at this but shrugged it off, exiting the dorm room and heading out into the common room.

There he found a group of Slytherins murmuring and laughing to themselves before Vincent came in.

Vincent moved to sit down on one of the couches and the two students sitting there cleared their throats awkwardly and quieted down.

The rest of the students in the group of couches looked up and gave each other a few looks and snickers before looking down.

Vincent was aware of why they did this and shrugged it off, leaning back and tilting his head back to rest on the couch, closing his eyes.
He knew they were most likely looking at him, as he could hear whispers begin to pick up.
He was used to this.

Most Death Eaters, or those related to such, weren't sending their children to Hogwarts- overly aware of the segregation that they'd receive and not subjecting their kin to that.

However, Vincent's father was a wonder and insisted that he wouldn't let his son look like that of a coward.

Apparently, the majority of other Death Eater families weren't thinking along the same lines, as Vincent was the elephant in the room.

"Do you suppose he's a Death Eater himself?" One girl whispered, unintentionally in Vincent's range of hearing.

"I wouldn't doubt it," A male voice sniffed from beside the girl, "Do you see him? He's not talking to anyone."

Maybe because you're not talking to me either? Vincent almost smirked in amusement.

"Yes, well, can you blame him?"

"I guess you're right..."

Thank you

"Wouldn't want to become too close to people you may have to turn against one day."

Never mind.

"You think he'd do that?" The girl gasped quietly.

"Of course he would! He's a Death Eater after all!"

"His father is."

"All the same."

Oh but, it really isn't Vincent's eyebrows furrowed in distaste.

"Wasn't he hanging around the Minister's son, though? You'd think Wilownick wouldn't let his own son do that unless he had some good in him." The girl sighed.

"He's obviously just using him, Casandra. Lurking on his prey, creeping...crawling...waiting to pounce for the kill!" He raised his voice at the last part.

"Alright, well, thank you for that." Vincent's eyes shot open and he sat up.

The boy who'd spoken squeaked in fear and scrambled back into the couch.

"While I really do love untrue stereotypes and segregation, really, don't get me wrong, I'd really enjoy some peace and quiet?" Vincent cracked a wicked grin.

The room fell silent.

"Well, thank you." Vincent closed his eyes.

This was going to be hell.

Vincent was more than relieved when he found out that broomstick practice was taking place with both Slytherin and Ravenclaw, it meant he'd be able to see William- a face he'd be more than happy to see at the moment.

"Come on, then, the courtyard is just down here." A feminine voice called from the head of the first years, "Vincent? You're Day-Dreaming again, you alright?"

"Um, yeah, I'm fine." Vincent turned his attention to her.

Beatrice was the head girl of Slytherin, and was in charge of leading the first years around to their classes on their first day, she was the only one openly nice to Vincent presently, so he enjoyed her company.

They exited a stone hall outside before entering the courtyard.

Vincent took in a breath of fresh air with a smile. He never underestimated the power of a fresh breath of air, nor nature in general, which is why he was glad they were practicing broomstick flying today.

"Two lines!" A male voice called.

Vincent looked up and recognized Elliot, the head boy of Ravenclaw. They'd had a brief run in at the great hall.

Vincent did as he was told and scooted to the end of a line of Slytherin, looking up and grinning widely as he heard the murmur of Excuse me, and Pardon as William pushed past to be adjacent to Vincent.

"Well, speak of the devil." Vincent chuckled as he looked at William.

"Who? Yourself?" William grinned, "Don't you be flying off on that broomstick without me now too. Leaving this house is one thing, leaving me is another!" William chuckled, "It's been awfully lonely here without ya'."

"What about me?" A boy with ginger, curly hair, furrowed his brow from where he stood beside William.

"Hey, of course not, Diston." William elbowed the boy in his shoulder.

Diston gave a happy smile, pushing his glasses up on his forehead before looking at Vincent, worry crossing his expression.

"I'm Vincent." Vincent nodded in greeting.

"Diston." The boy's voice cracked.

William looked slightly embarrassed by this, "This is the friend I've been talking about."

Diston blinked in surprise, "This is him?"

"You don't believe me?" William chuckled.

"It's just, he's..." Diston decided he shouldn't say this, "Never mind."

Good choice Vincent nearly verbally sighed in relief, at the fact that he wouldn't have to hear what his roommates had already whispered about him.

It was mainly the older years that were the most discomforted by Vincent, but not in the way the first years were.

The first years saw Vincent through ignorant eyes, judging him in a way to follow some trend.

Meanwhile, the older years had been there to fight against the death eaters, leaving a scar in them that made them wary of Vincent, enough to simply ignore him, not in a negative but not in a positive way either.

This left the first years glaring at Vincent, versus afraid of him or truly despising, like the older years.

This made Vincent wonder if Diston had somehow been a part of The Battle of Hogwarts. It wasn't exactly likely, but was possible.

"Alright, class!" A feminine voice sounded from the head of the line, farthest from Vincent.

There stood a short woman with long, brunette hair, braided into a fishtail braid. Her hair had streaks of gray, suggesting age greater than what she would look without the gray streaks.

She looked like she could be a widow, just from her mannerisms and facial structure.

"I'm Professor Hinderstard, and I'll be teaching you how to fly a broomstick."

A snicker came from William, "Hinderstard." He whispered, "And I thought-"

"Is there a problem, over there?" Prof Hindersnard cocked an eyebrow at William who quickly cleared his throat, "No, ma'am, there is not."

"Good." Prof.H turned to the rest of her class as William quietly giggled to himself.

Vincent rolled his eyes in amusement, smirk-smiling at the sound of the boy's laugh.

"Brooms at the ready! Hold your hand out and strictly say up."

Vincent tried this, "Up." Nothing, "Up." Nothing again, "Up!" He growled.

"Death Eater's going to make the broomstick his first victim." Vincent heard from somewhere down the line of students.

"Who's to say it'd be his first?" Another answered and there was a group of chuckles.

Vincent clenched his jaw shut.

William frowned from where he stood.

All day Vincent mouthed.

Ouch William mouthed with a wince.

Vincent shrugged.

A few broomsticks were now flying up into students' hands.

Vincent let out a shaky breath and attempted to block out the mockery he'd grown accustomed to, "Up." He didn't expect anything, and nothing happened either, "Up..." He took another breath, "Up." He stated firmly, the broomstick flicking up into his hand.
He grinned in satisfaction, "Hey, Will-!" He looked up but saw only the turned back of William as he prepared to lift off the ground with Diston.

Quite the little hypocrite Vincent lifted an eyebrow.
So much for flying together.

Vincent looked at William's back and then Diston's with a slight frown of envy and with a realization of doubt.

Huh..
Friends were easy to replace..