The Black Sheep

The Potions room of Hogwarts was in the cold dungeons – an area inhabited by Slytherins, and Professor Snape.

The sixth year students lined up outside, waiting for Snape to make his first appearance of the year. The Gryffindors lounged, at ease, against the walls, talking loudly and ignoring anything other than them. The Slytherins leered from against the opposite walls, making very loud and obvious insults to certain Gryffindors.

And Draco Malfoy stood quite alone, in the middle, staring down at the floor.

Typical that this is my first class… he thought icily to himself.

“Hey, Draco,” Pansy shouted from among the Slytherins.

And just like that, his heart started to beat again. He could feel a smile warming up into his lips. He looked up at Pansy, who was standing at the front of the pack, the rest of his friends behind her, smiling. They had accepted Draco back with welcome arms, it seemed. All was forgiven.

And Draco would soon join them, and laugh and smile with them, knowing that this was where he was meant to be, no matter what that ratty old piece of material said. And they’d move inside the potions room and yell at precious Potter from across the room, as happy as they’d ever been at Hogwarts…

Unfortunately, this was not what happened. Instead, Pansy took one look at the Slytherins behind her before yelling – loud enough for everyone to hear –:

“Have fun last night with Potter, Malfoy? Stay up all night painting each others toe nails, did you?” she said, in a most unattractive sarcastic tone. Draco’s face fell as he looked at his now ex-girlfriend.

Before Draco could speak, Harry Potter, who was now red in the face and sick of the Slytherins, did first.

“Shove off, Pansy. I wouldn’t touch Malfoy with a ten metre pole,” he spat, glaring at Draco as much as he did at Pansy.

“Bet you touched him with your ten millimetre pole!” yelled a voice from inside the Slytherin pack, and Draco thought he recognised Blaise Zabbini’s voice.

“Silence,” said an icy voice from behind them all, and they all spun around to see Professor Snape walking down the steps, his hair shining in the dim light of the torches around them, and his black robes billowing like a bat behind him. “Ten points from Gryffindor,” he added, almost lazily.

The students in black and red robes erupted into furious rage, before Snape silenced them with another ten points from their house.

“Already in negatives, and the year has hardly begun. It must be a record, Potter.”

The Slytherins roared with laughter, and Draco Malfoy wished he could laugh too. But, with a pang in his stomach, he realised he had just had points taken off of his house too. He didn’t even have time to feel anything as the class shuffled inside of Snape’s always-cold classroom.

Tables scattered the room, with shelves and cupboards all around the edges, full of slimy things in jars, and ingredients that would be helpful in recipes.

And suddenly he was faced with a dilemma.

He couldn’t sit with the Slytherins – for they obviously no longer accepted him. But he couldn’t sit with the Gryffindors, because he would certainly not lower himself to that standard. But Draco soon realised, as the students filled the seats, that it might be his only option.

So he walked to the only table with a seat available. A seat – he realised with disgust – that was right next to the filthy Mudblood, Granger.

“I don’t believe it,” he saw her lips whisper to Ron and Harry opposite her. They both shrugged and glared at Malfoy as he gingerly slid into the seat next to Hermione.

There were dark circles under Draco’s eyes, and his hair didn’t look very tame. In fact, it didn’t look as if Malfoy had done anything about his appearance this morning, apart from throwing on his new Gryffindor robes. In fact, Hermione couldn’t help but note he looked very sick indeed.

From across the room, Professor Snape watched as Draco sat down and began to take out his cauldron and the ingredients he had written on the board the night before.

I wonder what Lucius shall say about this, he laughed in his mind, his face not even twitching.

The double potions that the Slytherins and Gryffindors shared that morning crept along sluggishly, the time ticking away deliberately slow. Draco kept glancing at his watch, but when he looked, the arrows had hardly moved at all.

He hardly noticed the ingredients he was pouring into his Draught of the Living Dead, and barely changed his expression when Snape gave him bottom marks for his potion (which had turned a gruesome pink colour).

Just when he was beginning to feel sorry for Potter and the treatment he must’ve gotten in these classes (for now Snape treated him just the same, and he was on the other end of the Slytherin insults) the bell rang out, and just like in the Great Hall, he rose before anyone else did and headed towards lunch.

People gave him pitying looks as he rushed along, but he ignored them, his stomach now grumbling in anticipation of the meal he was about to eat.

And finally he reached the awesome wooden doors of the Great Hall, and he walked through them, shoving a group of terrified second years out of the way. He was so hungry that he was still eating when the rest of the school filled the surrounding tables.

The sunshine streamed through the windows, and the ceiling above them was pure blue – not a cloud in sight. Draco would’ve smiled on other occasions, but not now. Not with the Gryffindors avoiding him like a plague, and the three other houses turning around and giving him suspicious looks.

It wasn’t as if he had done anything wrong.

But Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry hadn’t had this much of a shock since Sirius Black had broken into the castle in their third year. They would obviously talk about this one for a long time to come.

And suddenly four late owls came souring into the air above them, and some students looked up to see if it was their own.

Draco Malfoy noticed, with a lurch of his stomach, his own pitch black owl as it soured above looking for him on the Slytherin table. It finally saw him and dropped the bright red letter on his plate, splattering his soup onto the table and his new robes.

And, as one, the entire population of Hogwarts spun around and looked in anticipation at the letter on Malfoy’s plate. It was, undeniably, a Howler.

“YOU FILTHY DISGRACE!” it finally shouted, loud enough for everyone to hear. Even the teachers stopped talking, and gazed down at the blonde haired, pointed face boy who looked like he was about to throw up. “THREE HUNDRED AND SEVENTEEN GENERATIONS OF SLYTHERINS, DRACO. THREE HUNDRED AND SEVENTEEN. FOR CENTURIES THE NOBLE HOUSE OF MALFOY HAS COMMANDED THE MOST PURE-BLOODED PRESENCE. AND IN ONE DAY YOU HAVE BESMERCHED OUR RIGHTEOUS NAME!”

Silence filled the Great Hall as the Howler erupted. Professor Dumbledore sat straight up and continued to stare down at Draco.

Not wanting to have the entire school know of the shame he had brought to his family, Draco picked up he letter and ran out of the hall. But the Howler wouldn’t stop. And it carried on screaming.

“WE OUGHT TO BRING YOU HOME, YOU DISGUSTING BLOOD-TRAITOR. DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA OF THE SHAME YOU’VE BROUGHT OUR FAMILY, DRACO MALFOY? SHOULD YOU EVEN CARRY THE NAME MALFOY ANYMORE? ALREADY, I’VE HAD SIX OWLS ASKING IF MY SON, MY ONLY SON, IS FRIENDS WITH HARRY POTTER. DO YOU EVEN UNDERSTAND WHAT YOU HAVE DONE? WE'VE NEVER BEEN MORE DISAPOINTED IN OUR ENTIRE LIVES –”

Finally the rage of the Howler faded away, as Draco stuffed it inside his robes and ran up the steps, towards his common room. It could no longer be heard in the Great Hall.

Nothing happened, and then –

The entire Hall burst into malicious laughter. It was louder than anyone had ever heard. Every single student laughed. It was cruel and loud and it took Dumbledore at least ten minutes to silence the students. And then the bell rang and they all rose from their seats, quite a few still clutching their stomachs as they left.

And for the rest of the day, every Hogwarts student quoted the Howler they had heard, and laughed at the memory of Malfoy’s face. And teachers nervously spoke in their staff room of the boy. And they silenced their classes when a student would suddenly burst out into laughter again. And students ate in the Great Hall at dinner time, some still giggling, the laughter finally fading away for good.

And Draco Malfoy didn’t come out of Gryffindor Tower at all.