( 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐬 )

iii. belching slugs

Matilda spent most of her time over the next few days to herself. She was still reading the book that her dad had bought her from Flourish and Blotts. A biography on Merlin. There were a lot of them, none of them like the other, and none completely accurate, but they were still entertaining, and if she looked close enough, Matilda was usually able to find a sliver of truth inside the page full of tiny words.

Still, Padma would occupy the seats beside Matilda when they were in class. They spent meal times together, and with Luna, who began to fit in better with the roommates. Padma and Cho still fought late into the night, but when they started, Matilda would usually escape to their common room or the library. Sometimes Luna would follow and other times she wouldn't. Outside of her roommates, Luna had started making other friends. Which Matilda thought was nice, because Luna sometimes could talk... for hours... without a break.

This morning Matilda woke early. The sound of a slamming door jarred her from sleep. It'd been Luna leaving for breakfast, no surprise. It wasn't likely she meant to, but she had a horrible habit of slamming doors behind her.

Matilda squinted at the window. There was a thin mist hanging across the pink-an-gold sky. She'd planned to sleep in since it was Saturday. Though, now that she was awake, she couldn't understand how she would have slept through the racket the birds were making.

After her morning shower and drying her hair, Matilda got dressed. She put on an oversized pink sweater, she couldn't remember where it'd come from, likely from Harper's closet. Over it, she pulled on a green, velvet overall dress and slipped into black tights since from outside her tall window, it seemed it'd be a bit chilly out this early in the morning.

When she finished buckling her black mary-jane shoes and tying her hair back into a braid that fell down her back, Matilda left the room, shutting the door quietly behind her. She stopped in the great hall for only a moment to get a bowl of fruit before heading outside to sit on the highest stand that overlooked the Quidditch field.

It was about time for them to start practicing but Matilda didn't mind. Despite not liking the sport or going to any of the games last year, she didn't mind them practicing as she read. It offered her a nice kind of background noise.

The Gryffindor Quidditch team had started their morning practice by the time Matilda was a few chapters into her book. She didn't even glance up to acknowledge that they existed. The book had gotten far too interesting for her to look away from.

She could hear the whizzing of their brooms. There were times when they'd fly over her, a little lower than what was usual, and Matilda's hair would fly with it, and tangle on the top of her head.

Though she hadn't noticed that the Gryffindors had stopped. The sun was fully in the sky now and the morning dew had started to dry on the grass. There was still a bit of a chill in the air but it wasn't nearly as cold as when she first sat on the bench.

Matilda had just closed her book, finishing up for the morning, she was planning to go to the library and search their shelves for something interesting she could take with her when she finished what she was reading now. The bookmark poking out from the pages indicated that it wouldn't be much longer and she'd need something else to read.

But the arguing stopped her. Just stepping off the bleacher Matilda walked upon the Gryffindor and Slytherin team, arguing, nose-to-nose. Oliver Wood's face had gone so red that she thought he might explode. Matilda didn't have a watch but she assumed it was far too early for Oliver to have called practice already. Normally he'd have them in the air for hours practicing drills and going over plays.

Normally they wouldn't allow someone from another house to sit in the stands during their practice time. But Matilda had made it very clear last year that she had no interest in spying for the Ravenclaw team, nor any team. For if a team couldn't win on their own, they weren't worthy of her support. And she hated the game. She just liked the noise and the reading space. Eventually, Oliver stopped causing a fuss and let her stay.

It was clear though that the Slytherin Quidditch team wasn't invited to observe though. They'd stepped in before their allotted practice team.

Matilda did not wish to involve herself in such matters, but as she walked back to the castle entrance, she couldn't help but stop. She liked a scene. So, Matilda decided she'd stay to see how this all might play out.

But she was not going to get involved.

Flint, the Slytherin's Quidditch Team Captain began reading a slip in his hands. His buck teeth and pimple-covered face made Matilda squirm. The slip had been signed by Snape apparently, insisting that the Slytherins have field priority since they'd be training a new Seeker.

"You've got a new Seeker?" said Wood, distracted. "Where?"

And from behind the six large figures before them came a seventh, smaller boy, smirking all over his pale, pointed face. It was Draco Malfoy.

Matilda rolled her eyes. She now could understand why the Slytherin's Quidditch team were all holding newer-looking, advanced flying brooms. Even though she knew there were a few on the team that wouldn't have been able to afford such an item.

"Aren't you Lucius Malfoy's son?" said Fred Weasley, looking at Malfoy with dislike.

Matilda didn't know how she'd been able to tell him from his twin, George, but she did. Unless she didn't and was being tricked, as they so often like to do so people.

"Funny you should mention Draco's father," said Flint as the whole Slytherin team smiled still more broadly. "Let me show you the generous gift he's made to the Slytherin team."

All seven of them held out their broomsticks. Seven highly polished, brand-new handles and seven sets of fine gold lettering spelling the words Nimbus Two Thousand and One gleamed under the Gryffindors' noses in the early morning sun.

Matilda's dad had just bought Harper that very broom last week. She almost laughed. A lot of the people on that team were not going to be happy to share the same kind of broom with a Hufflepuff. Marcus Flint, especially.

"Very latest model. Only came out last month," said Flint carelessly, flicking a speck of dust from the end of his own. "I believe it outstrips the old Two Thousand series by a considerable amount. As for the old Cleansweeps" — he smiled nastily at Fred and George, who were both clutching Cleansweep Fives —" sweeps the board with them."

None of the Gryffindor team could think of anything to say for a moment. Malfoy was smirking so broadly that his cold eyes were reduced to slits.

"Oh, look," said Flint. "A field invasion."

At first, Matilda thought Flint was talking at her, as his head turned right to where she stood. She was about to tell him that she'd been here since before any of the teams. But then she noticed it wasn't her he was looking at, he was looking past her, at someone else.

Ron and Hermione were crossing the grass to see what was going on.

"What's happening?" Ron asked Harry. "Why aren't you playing? And what's he doing here?"

He sounded almost motherly in the way he spoke to Harry. And he was looking at Malfoy, taking in his Slytherin Quidditch robes.

"I'm the new Slytherin Seeker, Weasley," said Malfoy, smugly. "Everyone's just been admiring the brooms my father bought our team.

Ron gaped, open-mouthed, at the seven superb broomsticks in front of him.

"Good, aren't they?" said Malfoy smoothly. "But perhaps the Gryffindor team will be able to raise some gold and get new brooms, too. You could raffle off those Cleansweep Fives; I expect a museum would bid for them."

The Slytherin team howled with laughter. But it hadn't even been that funny.

"At least no one on the Gryffindor team had to buy their way in," said Hermione sharply. "They got in on pure talent."

The smug look on Malfoy's face flickered.

"No one asked your opinion, you filthy little Mudblood," he spat.

There were a few gasps. It went quiet for a moment. No one had expected such hate to have been spewed. Not even by Draco Malfoy. Until it had been, and then no one was surprised he said it. Especially not Matilda.

And then there was an uproar. Flint had to dive in front of Malfoy to stop Fred and George Weasley from jumping on him, Alicia Spinnet, from the Gryffindor team shrieked, 'How dare you!' and Ron plunged his hand into his robes, pulled out his wand, yelling, "You'll pay for that one, Malfoy!" and pointed it furiously under Flint's arm at Malfoy's face.

And it would have been a great, clean shot, had Ron's wand not backfired on him.

A loud bang echoed around the stadium and a jet of green light shot out of the wrong end of

Ron's wand, hitting him in the stomach and sent him reeling backward onto the grass.

"Ron! Ron! Are you all right?" squealed Hermione.

Ron opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. Instead, he gave an almighty belch and

several slugs dribbled out of his mouth onto his lap. Matilda scrunched her nose in disgust and looked away, concealing her own gag.

The Slytherin team was paralyzed with laughter. Flint was doubled up, hanging onto his new

broomstick for support. Malfoy was on all fours, banging the ground with his fist. The

Gryffindors were gathered around Ron, who kept belching large, glistening slugs. Nobody

seemed to want to touch him.

Harry and Hermione lifted Ron off the ground holding a side each. They did not dare one more glance to the stadium and instead started down the hill, heading toward the small hut at the bottom of the hill where Hogwarts' gamekeeper lived. The very, very large man with whom Harry Potter had become quite close.

Matilda's blood boiled as she watched Draco Malfoy stand up once more, like Flint, using his broomstick for support. Without noticing she'd taken out her own wand, hand gripping it so tight that her knuckles had started turning white. Her eyes narrowed in and she marched straight for the bitter bottle blonde.

"Think that's quite funny, don't you, Draco?"

He stood upright, noticing that Matilda stood before him. He cleared his throat to catch his breath and replaced his look of pure amusement with one of disdain as he sneered in Matilda's direction.

"And so what if I do, Winters?" he scoffed, trying to look big in front of all of his new Quidditch friends.

She watched as he glanced back at them, making sure that they thought what he'd said was funny. And of course, they did. Even if it wasn't at all. His dad had bought them new, state-of-the-art brooms. Draco Malfoy would be their new best friend if it meant gifts like that.

"If only Weasley could afford a new wand, then maybe—"

Draco stopped talking when the tip of Matilda's wand touched the center of his nose. His eyes had gone crossed as he stared down at it, and he gulped.

"He doesn't need a new wand," she said calmly, and with a sweet, but somehow sadistic smile. "You eat slugs, Draco Malfoy... Slugulus Eructo!"

To miss her target would have been exceptionally hard. Matilda was a great shot with her wand. And she'd had her wand right to Draco's nose. Even if he had moved at the last second the green blast from her wand still would have caught him.

Draco flew through the air. He landed a near ten, perhaps fifteen feet away from everyone. All of his teammates that had been standing behind him ran off or fell to the ground to take cover. Matilda was smiling, satisfied as she watched Draco struggle to sit up. He had a sickly green tint in his cheeks and he'd opened his mouth to speak. Just like Ron, a loud belch exploded from him and three or four slugs fell into his lap, coating his green uniform in slime.

Matilda looked away, at all of the other once-giggling Slytherins, "Does anyone else have anything to say?" she asked them and none of them answered, some even trembling as they shook their hide with wide, scared eyes. "Good."

She turned away from the crowd, putting her wand back into the bag she'd carried with her this morning, and began skipping down the steep hill toward the groundskeeper's cabin. She didn't know why, but she wanted to check on them.

Unfortunately, she met Professor Lockhart on the way.

"Oh, hello, Miss Winters!"

He stopped her, grinning wildly, showing his bright, sparkling teeth. Matilda groaned and rolled her eyes when she turned to face him.

"What're you doing all the way down here? You aren't following me, are you?" Lockhard laughed at his own unfunny jokes. "But I mean, who could blame you?"

She rolled her eyes again, "Why would I be following you?"

Lockhart did not take rejection well. A trait that Matilda found was found in many Ravenclaws. His face had fallen as if he'd been expecting her to gush over his presence or beg for an autograph, or ask about his travels and heroic journeys. But she didn't. She hadn't even seemed impressed with him at all.

Matilda did not stick around to apologize for his bruised ego. Instead, she used his silence as a way to move past him without having to deal with his hurt feelings.

"Well then!" the Professor cleared his voice before calling after Matilda, though she didn't even turn to acknowledge that he'd started talking again, "Do be mindful and don't stray too far from the castle. I might just have to end up saving you!"

"And who would want that?" grumbled Matilda as she continued toward the small hut at the bottom of the hill.

The infamous trio had already stormed inside the old cabin by the time she'd escaped Lockhart. Matilda huffed, she'd planned to just follow them inside had she not been stopped from catching up to them. They hadn't been moving fast at all, having to lug a belching friend on their shoulders made them slower than they preferred.

But they had just walked in, and Matilda didn't think a knock would earn her entrance into the cabin, so, she followed suit, swinging the door to the small wooden shack open, and stepping inside, surprising everyone inside.

"Oh – uh – ello there, girly," Hagrid, the school's ground keeper turned to Harry, his dark, bushy eyebrows furrowed together in confusion. "Friend o' yours?"

Harry wore the same look of confusion as his very large friend and just shook his head, too confused to form words. Matilda took his silence as an invitation and stepped inside, letting the old creaky, wooden door slam closed behind her.

Harry and Hermione stood on either side of Ron in the one-roomed cabin, which had an enormous bed in one corner, and a fire crackling merrily in the other. Hagrid hadn't seemed perturbed by Ron's slug belching, as he assisted in lowering the sickly boy into a chair beside the fire.

"Better out than in," the ground's keeper said cheerfully, plunking a large copper basin in front of him. "Get 'em all up, Ron."

"I don't think there's anything to do except wait for it to stop," said Hermione anxiously,

watching Ron bend over the basin. "That's a difficult curse to work at the best of times..."

"Finite Incantatem,"

Matilda merely shrugged as they all looked at her with faces that suggested they'd forgotten she was even there, "But Hermione is right," she admitted, nearly rolling her eyes in annoyance. "Slugulus Eructo is a more advanced charm, and performing it with a broken wand, well, there's no telling the damage it's had on you."

Ron's face fell, even more so than it already has, "What?"

He sounded disappointed.

"It is a jinx, at least," Matilda reminded him. "It should go away on its own with time."

That didn't seem to ease him any. Matilda wasn't any good at this... helping others.

"I highly doubt Draco is taking this any better than you are," said Matilda.

In fact, if she had to guess, she'd assume he's taking it worse.

"How so?" scoffed Ron, rolling his eyes just before belching up another large slug into the bin sitting on his lap. Matilda cringed and Hermione took a step away from the wooden chair. "The spell didn't even hit him."

"Perhaps not your spell..."

Matilda smiled, remembering the horror-stricken look on Malfoy's face as the tip of her wand pressed his nose flat on his face. It'd be one she cherished forever.

"What do you mean?" Hermione questioned, her head turned quickly, making her hair fly in every which direction. "Did someone else get Ron? Was it Fred and George?"

"Me, actually."

"You?"

Harry and Hermione said at once, just as another slug fell out of Ron's mouth and into the bucket with a loud, thud!

"Yes," Matilda nodded. "And it was quite funny. A shame you all missed it. You would have loved to have seen the look on his face."

Ron grinned as if just thinking about Draco being hexed was enough for him. Though, Harry and Hermione still wore looks of confusion as they shared glances every other second, thinking Matilda wouldn't notice.

"I'm Matilda Winters, by the way," she told them finally, looking around at everyone. She didn't extend a hand for them to shake, Matilda thought with her cursing Draco they were past the need for a form handshake greeting.

A simple reminder of her name should be enough.

They all three nodded. Harry, Hermione, and Ron were familiar with the Ravenclaw in their year. They shared a few classes together. Hermione was more-so familiar with her, having to be at contest competition with one another.

"Oh!" Harry said suddenly, his head turning to the small kitchen area in the one-roomed cabin. "What did Lockhart want with you, Hagrid?"

The dog's head still lay lazily on Harry's lap and he'd now started to scratch behind its foot-long ears.

"Givin' me advice on gettin' kelpies out of a well," growled Hagrid, moving a half-plucked

rooster off his scrubbed table and set down the teapot. "Like I don' know. An' bangin' on

about some banshee he banished. If one word of it was true, I'll eat my kettle."

Matilda didn't know the ground's keeper very well at all, in fact, this had been the first time she'd ever spoken to him, but, she could not agree more with his opinion of their newest Professor. And she showed that my nodding to his every word.

Hermione, however, said in a voice somewhat higher than usual, "I think you're being a bit unfair. Professor Dumbledore obviously thought he was the best man for the job —"

"He was the on'y man for the job," said Hagrid, offering them a plate of treacle fudge, while Ron

coughed squelchily into his basin. "An' I mean the on'y one. Gettin' very difficult ter find

anyone fer the Dark Arts job. People aren't too keen ter take it on, see. They're startin' ter think

it's jinxed. No one's lasted long fer a while now. So tell me," said Hagrid, jerking his head at

Ron. "Why was he tryin' ter curse Draco Malfoy?"

The ones that had been present for the curse thrown all shared hesitant looks. None of them wanted to say it. Not even Matilda.

"Malfoy called Hermione something — it must've been really bad because everyone went wild."

Harry had been the one to break the silence, his gaze fell to the dusty floor.

"Bad? It was disgusting!"

Matilda shook her head, biting the inside of her cheek. Her blood began to boil again and she started to wish she'd given Draco more to atone for all he'd said.

"Malfoy called her a Mudblood, Hagrid —"

Ron dived out of sight again as a fresh wave of slugs made their appearance. Hagrid looked

outraged.

"He didn'!" he growled at Hermione.

"He did," she said. "But I don't know what it means. I could tell it was really rude, of course —"

"More than rude," Matilda told Hermione. "That word is hateful."

Matilda didn't say so, but she was shocked to learn that Hermione hadn't known the term before today, or at least, what it means. She'd wished it stayed that way. Not everything needs to be known, especially the meaning of words like the one Draco Malfoy had thrown at her.

"It's about the most insulting thing he could think of," said Ron, coming back up. "Mudblood's a really foul name for someone who is Muggle-born — you know, non-magic parents. There are some wizards — like Malfoy's family — who think they're better than everyone else because they're what people call pure blood." He gave a small burp, and a single slug fell into his outstretched hand. He threw it into the basin and continued, "I mean, the rest of us know it doesn't make any difference at all. Look at Neville Longbottom — he's pure blood and he can hardly stand a cauldron the right way up."

"And those families, who believe that their pure-blood status makes them superior, they're usually the ones who have aligned themselves with the same beliefs as You-Know-Who," Matilda added. "No matter your blood status, you're already better than them."

Matilda hated the discourse on blood status among wizards. It didn't affect her as she was born into a pureblood family, but she spent a lot of time among muggles. Especially since her mum had married one. Her youngest brother, Finn, could very well be a muggle should he not show signs of magic in the coming years. Some of the world's greatest inventions come from muggles. Matilda loved television. She loved their music. Blood meant nothing to her.

"An' they haven't invented a spell our Hermione can' do," said Hagrid proudly, making Hermione go a brilliant shade of magenta.

"Realistically, there are probably a few spells that she can't do..." said Matilda, the end of her sentence drawing out as she tilted her head, thinking of all the undiscovered spells out there. The secret spells made by wizards who'd never recorded them.

It was all very fascinating and maddening to think about.

Harry, Ron, and Hagrid all turned to face her, their eyebrows raised.

Matilda nodded quickly, now understanding, "Though, obviously, that is not the point of the conversation," she laughed nervously.

"It's a disgusting thing to call someone," said Ron, wiping his sweaty brow with a shaking hand. "Dirty blood, see. Common blood. It's ridiculous. Most wizards these days are half-blood anyway. If we hadn't married Muggles we'd've died out."

"That's very true," nodded Matilda, her nose scrunched in disgust. "There was a lot of inter-familial marriages among wizards for a very long time... disgusting."

Ron retched and ducked out of sight again.

"Well, I don' blame yeh fer tryin' ter curse him, girl," said Hagrid loudly over the thuds of more

slugs hitting the basin. "Bu' you may 'spect Lucius Malfoy come marchin' up ter school since yeh cursed his son."

"I could not care less about what Lucius Malfoy may or may not do," scoffed Matilda, rolling her eyes. "He's just like his son. A coward who plays follow the leader."

They looked at Matilda, expecting her to tell them who this leader was. She didn't. And since she's checked in on Ron and Hermione, she didn't plan to stick around for much longer, either.

"Well then," she sighed, smiling. "Since I now see the two of you are going to survive, I will see myself out. I have lost reading time to catch up on."

Though, before she open the door to leave, Matilda stopped, turning to Hagrid, "It was a pleasure to meet you, Hagrid."

He nodded, offering the same to Matilda. And then, she left.

By the time she made it back into the castle, it was time for lunch. At the smell of the steaming food, Matilda's stomach grumbled impatiently. She hadn't had much breakfast at all. So, instead of making her way to the library, she decided taking some time for lunch wouldn't kill her.

"Where have you run off to all day?" Padma questioned as soon as Matilda appeared at the table before her.

Matilda shrugged, "Just reading."

She did not feel the need to inform them of everything that had taken place. Though she did want, more than anything, to brag about jinxing Draco Malfoy, she could not. For then they'd need the backstory, and telling Ron might have been acceptable, but Matilda did not wish to repeat what was said to Hermione. It had happened to Hermione, if anyone is to tell anyone about what happened, it should be her. That much, Matilda knew and could respect.

After lunch, Matilda did eventually find her way to the library, where she stayed into the late hours of the night. She read and even wrote in her journal some. Attempted wandless magic without being seen by anyone who might be lingering behind the book-littered shelves.

At the very end of her night, not tired at all, Matilda wrote to her father, recounting her first week of classes. Though she did leave out the slight incident that occurred this morning. Matilda didn't wish to worry him.

It was already early in the morning when Matilda finally decided she best get some sleep. And just as her head hit the pillow, Matilda fell into a soundless slumber.

ϟ

( 𝗺𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗹𝗱𝗮'𝘀 𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗼𝘂𝘁𝗳𝗶𝘁𝘀 )

ϟ

𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓'𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆

I think that maybe this chapter shows a little more of Matilda's character. Remember, she's been made to be incredibly complex and that means she won't always be likable. She's gonna say the wrong things and act in a way that isn't always expected.

Please remember that these chapters are being edited. And if you're a new reader or a re-reader, please pay attention to the chapter titles. If they look like the one for this chapter, it's edited. Edited chapters will also, at the very end, have the date on which they've been edited. Please, let me know if this is making sense, or if I'm just confusing all of you with my rambling.

&

As always, comment away. I want to know all of your thoughts, theories, and opinions. This is the kind of fic that allows for these kinds of things to form as you read the chapter. What kind of person do you think Matilda is going to be? Will she be a villain? What's up with her moral compass? Also, her parents are divorced, did anyone catch the slight mention of that? I want to know all of your thoughts! This is a safe space for rambling!

𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐝: 𝟏𝟐/𝟏𝟖/𝟐𝟐