𝗕𝗥𝗨𝗧𝗔𝗟

ACT ONE, CHAPTER SEVEN
a weasley and a lestrange
in the kitchens . . . what an odd
pairing.

IF THERE WAS one thing that never failed to cheer Penelope up, it was a nice cup of hot chocolate by a fire.

Things were going smoothly. The meeting about the new secret Defense Against the Dark Arts meeting had gone well, and Penelope was in high spirits, but then it all came crashing down with the revelation of Umbridge's new decree. Get this — yesterday, which was also the day after they had that meeting, she suddenly came out with a statement that all groups at Hogwarts were disbanded except if Umbridge gave them permission, including Quidditch teams.

Umbridge said the Slytherin Quidditch team was good to go right away, but Penelope was still extremely suspicious. She means, literally the morning after, Umbridge pulls this out? Penelope doesn't know. It was just very strange.

Of course they weren't going to ask Umbridge for permission — that was literally the whole point — but Penelope didn't want this group to be disbanded. This was her one chance, her one fucking chance to learn to defend herself if Bellatrix ever decided to show up, which she probably would. Penelope had to be ready. If there was one person to teach her anything useful about Defense magic — besides Remus Lupin — it was Harry Potter.

It certainly hadn't helped that yesterday before Potions, Draco had made a completely insensitive remark about people's brains being changed due to extreme magic in one wing of St. Mungo's. That made Penelope's blood completely boil. Her mother had put people in there (she didn't know who, Andromeda had never disclosed that information), and here he was, just making fun of them? Absolutely not.

Anyways, she had been kind of lost in her thoughts all day. Even her friends had begun to notice. Only Tracey knew what was actually going on since she knew about Penelope going to that secret meeting. Penelope trusted Tracey with everything, this being no different. She knew Tracey wouldn't tell the rest.

Daphne was actually the one to suggest to Penelope that she go down to the kitchen, knowing exactly that was where she could find her peace of mind. Don't get her wrong, Penelope adored the Slytherin common room, but it could be a bit dark at times if she just wanted to sit and think. Therefore, Penelope decided to take Daphne's advice and head down to the kitchens.

It was in the evening after dinner — pretty late, actually, around eleven thirty — when Penelope left the Slytherin common room. She had ignored the way Theodore was asking where she was going (he had been extra annoying lately for some reason and Penelope was really over it) and left through the door. It concealed itself back into the stone wall, and then Penelope was alone.

Her outfit was quite the look right now. She was in her pajamas — which was an old Weird Sisters t-shirt from Nymphadora and some Slytherin green bottoms — that she had paired with her black Converse high-tops because it was the first pair of shoes she found. Sighing, she tightened her ponytail and headed off in the direction of the kitchens. Frankly, she didn't really give a fuck who saw her like this right now.

She climbed the steps to the next level. Yes, the kitchens were in the basement, but that was the level above the dungeons. Penelope passed by the Hufflepuff common room on the way — no, she had never tried to go in, she really didn't want to be doused by vinegar like Draco was that one time when he tried to break in (although it was hilarious.)

Finally, she made it to the painting of the giant bowl of fruit. She reached out and tickled the huge green pear, grinning slightly at the way it giggled. It turned into a large green door handle and Penelope grasped it before opening the door.

The kitchen of Hogwarts was a very beautiful place. It was enormous and had very high ceilings, just like the Great Hall above. Mounds of glittering brass pots and pans were heaped around the stone walls. There were four long wooden tables that were positioned exactly beneath the four House tables in the Great Hall. They were clear of food now since dinner had finished, but before they had probably been filled with dishes that were sent up through the ceiling. A brick fireplace with some stools and chairs was at the other end of the room.

Nobody else was there besides the House-Elves. Usually when Penelope came, she would expect to see some Hufflepuffs there just relaxing since they were the closest to the kitchens, but not this time. It was just her and the House-Elves. Not that she minded, House-Elves were normally very nice creatures.

She then noticed a very familiar House-Elf there, one whom she had met at Malfoy Manor back in her first year. The same big green eyes, pencil-shaped nose, batlike ears, and long fingers and feet. He was wearing multiple strangely-shaped knitted hats on top of his head and some miscellaneous socks. The last time Penelope had seen him, he was only wearing a filthy old pillowcase — but that was before Harry had freed him.

"Hi, Dobby," Penelope greeted, a warm smile on her face.

"Miss Lestrange!" Dobby exclaimed.

Back then, Penelope had been the only one nice to Dobby. The first time she had seen him in the kitchens during fourth year, he had been a little scared of her — Penelope kinds of gets it, he probably didn't want to be under the control of another family. He was probably even more scared because Bellatrix Lestrange and Narcissa Malfoy, his old master, were sisters. Penelope would never imprison him again, though. That wasn't the type of person she was. Not to mention, Dobby loved being free, and Penelope loved to see him happy.

"Would Miss Lestrange like her usual?" Dobby asked. "A large mug of hot chocolate with extra marshmallows?"

"Yes, please," Penelope answered. "Also some chocolate chip cookies if you don't mind? I'll be by the fire."

Dobby scurried off to go get what she asked. Penelope crossed the flagged stone floor over to one of the chairs by the fire. Instantly, as she sat down and curled her legs around her. Dobby quickly came back with a mug that had a Hogwarts crest on it and a plate of cookies.

"Thank you, Dobby," Penelope told him.

"Of course, Miss Lestrange!" Dobby responded, her grin growing just a little wider. She hated her last name, but she loved the way Dobby was so enthusiastic. "If Miss Lestrange needs anything else, she will let me know!"

Penelope nodded to him. "Will do, Dobby. Have a nice night."

Once again, Penelope was alone with nothing but the sound of a crackling fire and House-Elves milling around in the background. She exhaled and took a sip of her hot chocolate, warmth spreading throughout her body once the liquid hit her tongue.

It was times like these when Penelope missed Andromeda. Andromeda was everything a mother should be and more. She managed to break that toxicity of living in the House of Black and found compassion deep in her bones. But don't think she was some sweet and innocent woman all the time — Andromeda Tonks was still a Black, and being the sister of one of the most manic witches of all time, she could be a stone-cold bitch when she needed to.

Besides that, Andromeda was one of the most heartfelt people Penelope knew. If Penelope was lost in her thoughts — like she was today, worrying about the Defense group and absolutely being done with the rude comments from her friends — she would have Penelope sit by the fire and make them cups of hot chocolate. They didn't have to talk, it was just  way to get Penelope to really sort through her head without any distractions. That's how Penelope began this routine of drinking hot chocolate in the kitchens of Hogwarts by herself. It reminded her of home.

"Lestrange?" a familiar voice suddenly questioned, snapping her out of her head.

She looked up. Standing behind her was none other than Ron Weasley. His hair was a little messy and he was wearing pajamas as well — plaid bottoms, an orange Chudley Cannons t-shirt, and some worn-out shoes. Penelope can't really comment on his outfit because, well, hers was also mismatched, but despite that, he . . . looked kind of cute. She felt her heart beat against her chest, but she quickly pushed that away.

Penelope Lestrange, always keeping her cool.

"Hey, Weasley," Penelope voiced. "Fancy seeing you here."

"I, uh . . . I thought nobody else would be in here."

She smiled gently. "Surprise."

"Mr. Wheezy!" Dobby began, appearing again out of nowhere. "What would Mr. Wheezy like?"

"Weasley, Dobby," Weasley corrected, Penelope laughing slightly at the way his face was turning as red as his hair. "Just some tea, please."

Instantly, another House-Elf came up behind him with a silver tray. Weasley took the teapot and poured some tea in the cup before pouring in only a little bit of a milk. The House-Elves left, leaving Penelope and Weasley alone. Weasley cleared his throat before settling himself down in the seat next to Penelope.

For a couple of minutes, they sat in silence. It wasn't awkward or anything, it was mostly just neither of them not knowing what to say. Penelope continued to drink her hot chocolate, occasionally chewing on a marshmallow or pausing to eat another cookie. She could feel Weasley throwing glances over at her a couple times. Finally, when she was about almost done with her drink, Penelope decided to break the silence.

"Where're your friends?" Penelope inquired. "Y'know, Harry and Hermione and Black. Seems like you four are always together."

It suddenly struck her that he and Venus Black were the only ones she wasn't on a first name basis with yet. For some reason, it made her heart kind of sink — more so for Weasley than Black.

"Hermione went to bed, and Harry and Venus were still in the common room when I left," Weasley responded. "Uh . . . sometimes I just come here by myself for some tea when I can't sleep."

"I get that," Penelope agreed. "I've been a little out of it since yesterday when Umbridge made that decree . . ."

"Nobody blabbed," Weasley admitted. He then noticed how Penelope raised an eyebrow. "No, seriously. Hermione apparently put a jinx on that piece of parchment we signed. She said that whoever snitched would get something that would make Eloise Midgen's acne look like freckles, or something."

"Let's hope no one snitches."

"Really." He then noticed the conflicted expression on her face. "You all right?"

Penelope sighed. "I can't help but replay what Draco said yesterday about St. Mungo's in my head. I just . . . I just don't get it. My mother has put people in there and is making fun of them, meanwhile their lives have been ruined forever?"

Weasley hesitated for a second. "Listen, I know you're still cousins and all, but . . . why do you keep hanging out with him if he says things like that?"

She shrugged at the question. "He was one of the first people to really welcome me when I came to Hogwarts. Everyone else was scared of me because of my last name, but . . . not him." Penelope took the last sip of her hot chocolate before setting the mug down. "Something's changed, Weasley. He wasn't this harsh when I met him."

"He seems to lighten up around you," Weasley admitted. "It also helps how you try to shut him up."

Penelope looked down in guilt. "I'm sorry about him, and the rest of them . . . you don't deserve that. The comments they make about your Quidditch playing even though it's your first year on the team and about your family . . . it's just so unfair. I just don't think they like how you grew up with so much love while they were preached about blood purity since they were practically born."

"You don't have to apologize for them," Weasley said. "It's their mistakes, not yours."

"I just don't want you think that all of Slytherin is bad. Some of us don't care about blood purity and aren't prejudiced. My Aunt Andromeda is a clear image of that. And then there's Daphne, a literal ray of sunshine, and her little sister Astoria is really nice, too. Then Tracey who's my best friend, and then Charlotte Thomas, of course . . ."

She was completely unaware to the way Weasley was watching her, a ghost of a smile on her face as she talked about Slytherin. Her eyes were lit up like the stars outside in the night sky. She was talking about her House just like Ron would talk about Gryffindor. Professor McGonagall was right that first day, after all — their Houses would definitely grow to be something like their families.

"What do you think your friends would say?" Weasley asked, completely interrupting her. "If they saw you talking to a blood traitor like me."

Penelope blinked, clearly not expecting that question. "Well, I mean, I wouldn't really care — Pansy would probably throw a fit, Millie would just stare at me disapprovingly, Daph and Tracey would probably be cool with it . . . but they're just stupid prejudiced bitches. It's just the way they've grown up."

"Hopefully none of them walk in here."

She frowned. "Why? Do you not wanna be seen with me?"

Weasley's eyes instantly widened. "No, no, no, that's not it. I just . . . I don't want you to get caught in another argument with them. Trust me, anyone would probably want to be seen with you."

Penelope let out a bitter laugh. "Not really."

She shifted her body so she was facing him. Weasley did the same, staring at her curiously. His blue eyes held concern for her, and Penelope was afraid that if she looked up she would drown in them.

"A lot of people avoid me," Penelope revealed. "They're scared of me, and I hate the way I'm perceived."

"Bloody hell, you can be scary at times, though," Weasley voiced. "I think it's the glare."

Penelope shook her head. "I only use that glare when I need to. But most people make first impressions on me because they don't like my family." She absentmindedly began to play with a loose string on her shirt. "Listen, Weasley, I'm fucked up."

"Lestrange—"

"I am. It's true, don't even deny it." She stared down at her hands. "I may have grown up with Aunt Andromeda, Uncle Ted, and Nymphadora, but . . . my mother haunts me all the way from Azkaban. Every murder, every horrible thing that she's done, it lands back on me. I'm just left to clean up all of her messes."

"You shouldn't have to," Weasley announced. "That's also not your job."

"It feels like my responsibility," Penelope admitted. "I'm so, so fucking scared of turning out like her. People already tell me I'm basically the splitting image of her, and she was in Slytherin too . . . I just, I don't want to be known as Bellatrix Lestrange's daughter forever. I've been trying to make a name for myself but everyone just keeps thinking I'll end up just like she did — a crazy, psychotic bitch who finds joy in killing."

Weasley shook his head. "You're not her, Penelope. You will never be her."

Penelope was kind of taken aback. It was the first time he had ever called her by her first name — and truthfully, she really liked it. And somehow, she finds herself just spilling all of her gut feelings to Weasley. Penelope got this odd feeling that Ron Weasley was a person she could trust with anything. Don't ask her how, but Penelope usually has pretty good intuitions.

"I put up this front where I'm calm and collected, because that's how you survive in Slytherin sometimes," Penelope continued. "But underneath, I'm just some scared little girl who's deathly afraid of facing her mother she's never met. Every day that passes by, I'm just waiting for the announcement that my mother has broken out of Azkaban. I don't think I'll ever be ready when that day comes."

"She won't get you," Weasley said. "You're at Hogwarts, you're safe. Plus, we've got the Order—" His eyes then widened again. "Merlin, I should probably tell you."

Penelope's eyebrows knit in concern. "Tell me what?"

"No, you were talking. Continue. I don't want to stop you."

She let out a slight chuckle. "That was honestly pretty much it. But you look worried, so . . . enough of me piling all my problems on you."

"I don't mind," Weasley stated, his ears turning a little pink.

Penelope couldn't help but smile. "Thanks, Weasley. Now, what's up?"

"We talked to Sirius last night in the fire, back at the Gryffindor common room. But then, he disappeared, and Umbridge's hand appeared like she was trying to grab him. Plus, earlier, Hedwig came in during Historu of Magic with a letter from him and her wing was hurt. Hermione's thinking that Umbridge is intercepting Harry's mail."

Penelope scoffed. "Wouldn't put it past her. That woman is batshit crazy. Oh, how is Sirius, by the way? I haven't talked to him since we left Grimmauld Place."

"He's all right. I think he's getting a little restless being cooped up in there."

"I would love to go visit him, but I really don't want to go back to Grimmauld Place. Seeing Mrs. Black's portrait again? No thanks."

"I thought you two were, like, best friends."

"Shut up."

The two of them fell into a short fit of laughter with each other. It was nice, just talking with him. Penelope felt like she really needed that, but this made her feelings about Weasley get even more complicated. If anything, they got more enhanced, and she didn't know why. No, she would absolutely not fancy Ron Weasley. He didn't need someone as damaged as her bringing him down. So what did she do? Push it away.

She glanced over at the clock to see that it was about twelve thirty in the morning. Her eyes slightly widened. Had they really been down here for this long? It certainly didn't feel like it . . .

"Uh, I should probably get going back to my dormitory," Penelope revealed, standing up from her chair. "Classes tomorrow, and stuff."

Weasley stood up as well. "Yeah, yeah, same. Uh, it was, um, nice talking to you, Penelope."

"Well, thank you for listening. I'll see you around . . ." She smiled brightly at him. "Ron."

And she left the kitchens that night, in much higher spirits with a bright grin and a racing heart.

☆ 彡

homecoming queen by kelsea ballerini inspired this chapter <3

anyways

THE FIRST NAMES !!!

also I think us as a fandom should agree to stop defending snape bc he's literally awful <3 no seriously I could go on a whole rant of why he's so fucked