𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆.
chapter four; Strawberry Toast Friendship 
" But, Iolanthe, the House of Black used to be Pureblood royalty. Literally. "

  GEMMA FARLEY DIDN'T talk too much. But, to be fair, Slytherin was the one house that could get away with this; as every single first year was at least half-blood and didn't need the spiel muggle-borns got.

  They made it to the common room, in the dungeons of the castle, before the girl said a word.

  "You're Slytherins now," Gemma informed as if the word hadn't been shouted above the kids' heads minutes prior, "That means something. We have a reputation to uphold, and you won't be the year to mess it up. That aside; if you need something come to me, or Charles─ he's the other perfect this year. The girls' dorms are up the left staircase, and the boys' are up the right. Professor Severus Snape is our head of house, so if you're planning to suck up to anyone, make it him. Goodnight."

  "Well, that was informative," Iolanthe mumbled to Theodore as Gemma started up the staircase far to the left. "Can only hope I won't get lost."

  "Don't worry, I'll be your escort," Theodore flashed a small smile.

  "So we can get lost together?"

  "Exactly, that is the Slytherin mentality, Iolanthe," Theodore pointed, never losing his grin, "I'll see you tomorrow?"

  "Bright and early," Iolanthe nodded, unable to fight her own smile as she departed.

  She peered over her shoulder at the top of the stairs, only to find Theodore with a grin, waving her goodnight.

  There was some reassurance in knowing she'd have one friend tomorrow morning, but Iolanthe couldn't stifle her nerves as she approached her room, laughter and chattering seeping out from the open doorway.

  She should've expected it, most of these people had known one another for years already, so it shouldn't be a surprise that they acted as such. 

  But Iolanthe felt just a bit out of place as she dared to enter the doorway, reassured only by Ziggy's tail brushing her leg as they walked together.

  "Looks like we're rooming with a celebrity."

  Two girls stared at Iolanthe with matching smiles, both sitting on a freshly made bed, with neat robes and frizz-free hair.

  "Or royalty, depending on who you ask."

  Iolanthe flashed a nervous smile, approaching the empty bed she would call her own.

  "Daphne Greengrass," The blonde said, standing suddenly, "And this is Pansy Parkinson- we don't mean to be rude, truly, we've just grown up hearing about your family."

  "Oh?"

  "The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black," Pansy drawled out dramatically, letting out a sigh, "Yeah, my mum is always going on about how sad it was to see the family fall--"

  Daphne hit Pansy's arm, shushing the girl as Iolanthe's face fell. 

  "She doesn't mean anything by it," Daphne said quickly, "Pansy just talks before she thinks sometimes."

  "Sounds like my brother," Iolanthe said dryly, opening the trunk at the end of her bed to begin sorting out her clothes.

  "I find that very offensive, just so both of you know."

  "We know," Daphne said to Pansy, before joining Iolanthe, "We can sit together at breakfast if you'd like."

  Iolanthe retrieved a pair of pajamas from her trunk, shutting it before turning to Daphne.

  "You. . . want to sit with me?"

  "Of course," Daphne said, with nothing but honesty in her eyes, "Why wouldn't we?"

  "Well. . . you don't know me," Iolanthe mumbled.

  "We will," Pansy spoke up, "We can now; what's your favorite color?"

  "Blue," Iolanthe sighed.

  "What's your cat's name?" Daphne questioned, smiling at the kitten.

  "Ziggy."

  "Strange name."

  "It's from a muggle song," Iolanthe explained quietly as Ziggy curled up in her lap, "From my mum's favorite singer."

  "What's she like?" Pansy questioned, leaning over the edge of the bed she was still sitting on, "I remember seeing her in an old paper my mum left lying around; what she did caused a ruckus for months."

  Iolanthe couldn't help but smile, because she, too, had found this old paper Pansy was talking about. 

  The front cover of the Daily Prophet was a photo of her mother, about 9 years younger than she was now, sitting on a bench in what Iolanthe could only assume was Diagon Alley, with two toddlers on either side of her. The headline contrasted so greatly with what was an otherwise sweet family photo, and the contents of the article focused far more on the missing member of their group.

  'FIANCEE OF MASS MURDERER, SIRIUS BLACK, DENIES INVOLVEMENT, RENOUNCES THE HOUSE OF BLACK.'

  Of course, Iolanthe had read the article and knew her mother hadn't said anything about 'The House of Black', as the only real quote they had gotten from Madeline Potter was; "My family and I never have, and never will, pay any mind to blood-status." Which, perhaps, said enough.

  "My mum is amazing," Iolanthe said softly, "She's kind and fun. . . and I miss her already."

  Iolanthe looked up, only to find a sort of sadness in Daphne's features that she couldn't quite understand.

  "You're very lucky, then, Iolanthe," was all the blonde said before bidding her 'goodnight'.

  Iolanthe traded her robes for pajamas, crawling into bed as the lights were turned out, reassured by the small kitten curling up beside her legs.

  It hadn't even been a full day, and Iolanthe was already regretting having ever made these assumptions about Slytherin.

⥊

  Iolanthe Potter-Black was adjusting quite well to Hogwarts. 

  For the most part, of course.

  She'd gotten a schedule down by her third day; wake up, feed Ziggy, change into her robes, let Daphne fix her hair, and meet up with Theodore before the four of them headed off to breakfast.

  Iolanthe was growing used to the whispers that followed her, and after having someone outright ask if her mother knew that her father was going to murder 13 people, found solace in those too scared to do anything other than talk about the girl behind her back.

  Once they arrived at the Great Hall, Iolanthe, and Theodore would eat the same breakfast; a grapefruit split into two halves, and toast with strawberry jam on top.

  They would talk about nothing and everything. 

  Today's topic of conversation wasn't classes or students they'd met, but rumors about the castle they were in.

  "I heard the Defense Against the Dark Arts position is cursed," Theodore whispered, "No one's stayed longer than a year since. . . well, I don't know."

  "I don't believe that at all," Daphne rolled her eyes, "Who would curse something so stupid?"

  "Five Galleons that Quirrel won't be teaching us next year," Theodore said seriously, holding a hand out.

  The blonde laughed, shaking his hand quickly.

  "I'll be five galleons richer in a year, you wait and see," Daphne said, "Now, tell us something true."

  Theodore scoffed, looking to Iolanthe who only shrugged with a poorly masked smile.

  "Alright," Theodore said, rolling up his sleeves, "There's a portrait in the common room, the one next to the fireplace."

  "What does it look like?" Pansy questioned, "There's too many."

  "Youngest one there, probably twenty," Theodore said, "Black hair, gray eyes; he sits in that huge green chair all day, silent, just. . . staring at us."

  "I know the one," Iolanthe nodded.

  "No one knows who he is, so everyone has a different story-"

  "There's no name plaque?"

  "No!" Theodore said, "It's bizarre- some people think he was straight from Slytherin's bloodline, others think he's a muggle-born and that's why he won't talk to any of us."

  "Want to make another wager?" Daphne said eagerly, "Everyone puts up five Galleons, whoever finds out who he is, takes it all."

  The four exchanged mischievous looks before all nodding in agreement.

  The race was on now, and Theodore Nott wasn't planning on wasting any time. 

  The boy shot out of his seat quickly, barreling towards the doors to exit the hall.

  "Merlin, he's quite determined," Pansy mumbled.

  "Laney, want to slow him down?" Daphne questioned with a small smile. "Or should I?"

  "I will do the honors," Iolanthe laughed standing from her own seat, "We'll start officially tomorrow, then?"

  Pansy and Daphne agreed, waving to Iolanthe as she, too, hurried from the hall.

  But it caught the attention of a specific Gryffindor, who quickly scurried after her.

  "Theo!" Iolanthe called, dashing through the castle, "Theodore!"

  "Laney?" Theodore questioned, slowing his run to turn toward the voice, "Laney!"

  "We're starting tomorrow," Iolanthe laughed, slowing her pace as she approached him, "The bet; we'll start tomorrow, not today."

  "Sounds like you three were scared I'd win so quickly," Theodore smiled, earning an eye roll from Iolanthe, "Alright, tomorrow then. Now what will we do with today?"

  "We could go visit the lake," Iolanthe suggested with a smile.

  "I'd rather transfer to Gryffindor than step foot near that squid."

  "We won't swim," Iolanthe laughed loudly, "Only sit by the shore! Come on, my mother said it was one of her favorite places to spend free time."

  Iolanthe's smile faded as a trio of girls whispered in passing, snickering as one pointed to Iolanthe.

  "What's the joke?"

  The girl turned in shock, to find a rather relaxed Theodore Nott calling after the girls.

  "Oh, nothing," One responded, still laughing.

  "Oh come on," Theodore smiled, "We want a laugh, too."

  The trio exchanged careful glances as Theodore took a step toward them.

  "It seemed hilarious, I had to ask," He explained.

  "It was nothing," One of the girls said quietly.

  "We were only wondering if Iolanthe was just as loony as her father," Another responded evenly, rolling her shoulders back.

  "I just can't seem to find the humor in that," Theodore said, raising an eyebrow, "It was a horrible thing that happened."

  "Theo, let's just go," Iolanthe whispered, grabbing the boy's wrist.

  "We weren't saying it wasn't horrible--" One of the girls attempted.

  "You were laughing about the death of 13 people," Theodore pointed, "Doesn't seem like you think it's that horrible."

  "We weren't laughing about-"

  "Right, you were laughing at the idea of Laney becoming a mass murderer," Theodore corrected, "Hows about you hop back to whatever hole you crawled out of and have some respect, hey?"

  The girls stared blankly.

  "Off you go, then."

  The trio hurried off as Theodore turned his back to them, facing Iolanthe who was wearing a deep frown.

  "They're only going to talk more now."

  "Not when I'm around, at the very least," Theodore sighed, "It'll go away, soon. Something more worthy will come along and they'll flock to that like the vultures they are."

  "I just have to get used to it."

  "Or we scare them off," Theodore suggested with a lopsided grin, "Big bad Slytherins-"

  "Laney!"

  Ioalnthe turned at the sudden intrusion, startled to find none other than Atlas Potter-Black barreling toward her.

  "Fred started joking about you being thrown into the Black Lake and I started to believe him," He sighed in relief, hugging his sister tightly.

  "Get off me," Iolanthe grumbled, making no move to pull herself free, "I'm fine."

  "I can see," Atlas sighed, seeming to realize they had company for the first time when he let her go, "Oh, hi, I'm Atlas─ Lane's brother."

  "Theodore Nott," The boy greeted indifferently, "Want me to go ahead?"

  "No," Iolanthe said quickly, giving her brother a guilty look.

  But Atlas was just glad his little sister made a friend and seemed to at least hate her own house less, so he shoved his hands into the shallow pockets of his trousers and nodded his head in encouragement, curls flopping as he did. The corner of Iolanthe's mouth tugged up slightly, hugging her brother for the first time he could ever remember before she and Theodore were off.

  "What are you smiling about, eh?" George called as he jogged down the hall, making Atlas jump slightly, "Pretty girl catch your tongue?"

  "My sister's got a friend, twat," Atlas shoved George's arm roughly as they both laughed, somehow their limbs tangled until they rested around one another's shoulders, "Mr. Weasley, do you have any time for a prank planning session before your first class on this fine Friday?"

  "Oh, I suppose I could clear my morning, At."

( AUTHOR'S NOTE. )
I'm really enjoying rewriting this
yall