Deception

Snow flakes drifted to the ground softly all around Hogwarts. December had proved to be colder than expected.

Pulling her knitted cap over her ears, Amara sent a weary glance toward her friend. Fran had wanted to speak to Amara privately. Why she thought dragging Amara through the snow and down the Great Lake was beyond her.

“Why is that I have to hear from everyone else that you’re seeing Malfoy?” Fran started. She paced back and forth in the snow and refused to stare at Amara. ‘Really, Jane, why?’

Amara glared at her friend and shifted her weight from one foot to the other in hopes of warming up. “That’s why you brought me down here? You could have easily told me that in a nice, warm classroom. Or even in the library!”

Fran stopped her pacing and narrowed her eyes. “I wasn’t sure if I was going to yell at you or not.”

“Great,” Amara couldn’t help but roll her eyes. “You can bring us out into the freezing cold, yet you worry about getting kicked out of the library for yelling? I swear, if I catch hypothermia, you’re dead.”

“Stop being so dramatic.” Fran replied. “I just want to know why you didn’t tell me?”

“We aren’t officially together.” Amara grumbled. She felt like her nose was going to fall off at any given moment. “Can we please go back inside?”

“No.” Was her abrupt answer. Fran pushed her dark hair over her shoulder. “My feelings are hurt.”

“Well, I’m sorry okay?” Amara snapped. “I didn’t purposely set out to hurt your feelings or anything.”

The two girls stood there in silence. The only sound was the cool wind that was starting to pick up.

“Fine, I forgive you.” Fran said, the cold starting to get to her too. But a smile blossomed onto her face.

Amara resisted the urge to grumble and complain about how ridiculous Fran was being. But Amara knew better than to start another argument. She’d make sure she was inside, where she could actually feel her fingers and her toes before starting another fight.

“Now can we please go back inside?” Amara pleaded.

“Of course,” Fran said, and looped her arm with Amara’s and the pair began to make their way back up to the school. “So, do you want to come to my house for the winter holidays?”

Amara bit her bottom lip and gave her friend a sheepish look. “I’m actually going to Malfoy’s.”

“See!” Fran shouted and slapped Amara on the shoulder. “This is exactly what I’m talking about. You never tell me anything. Why are you always leaving me in the dark?”

“Like I told you, I’m not doing it on purpose.”

“I thought that I was your best friend.” Fran half-whispered. She sounded genuinely hurt and Amara couldn’t help but feel a tug at her heartstrings.

“You are,” Amara said and gave Fran a timid smile. “I’m just not one to announce things to the world. Besides, you’re the first person to know about me going to Malfoy’s. Better now?”

Fran sniffled and nodded her head. “I suppose.”

“Good.” Amara said as they finally reached the school. “Now let’s get something warm to drink.”






There are very few people who know Amara’s secret. That she really isn’t who she claims to be. She isn’t Jane Hart. She isn’t this quiet, Slytherin girl that coasts by, not bothering anyone.

Only a few know that she’s really Amara Kingston. That she isn’t really some quiet little Slytherin girl that doesn’t stir up trouble.

She knows exactly who she is. Jonathan Hart, her mentor; her ally. And the Sorting Hat.

It shouldn’t be all that big of surprise that the all-knowing hat knows that she isn’t who she claims to be. After all, the hat can see into your head. The hat, in it’s own right, is a deadly thing. All those secrets it knows.

And possibly Dumbledore knows, depending on what the Sorting Hat told him - if anything. Though, Amara believed that the Headmaster couldn’t possibly know, or else he would have stopped her a long time ago.

But the hat knew, Amara was certain of it.

The Sorting Hat never outright said that she was a liar. In all honesty, the hat only rested on her head her first year for only a matter of moments.

No, but it was what it said that told Amara that it knew.

“There’s only one pace for you.
You’ll do just fine in the same house
as your mother and father before you.”

It had said before declaring her a Slytherin.

It wouldn’t have mattered much, if it wasn’t for the fact that Jonathan Hart had been in Ravenclaw, and Jane’s mother had been a squib and unable to be sorted.

No, but Amara’s parents had both been in Slytherin.

It was enough to haunt Amara constantly. The fact that such a simple thing - a hat - could be her downfall. He could out her to the whole teaching staff in a matter seconds. And who knew what they would do with her when they found out.

Posing to be someone else alone was a bad thing. But add in the fact that her father had been what people called a Dark Wizard then she certainly was up to no good. Which is true enough, because she was.

This made the Sorting Hat her biggest enemy. Right below Lucius Malfoy, of course.

If Amara could, she would get rid of that hat. But it hadn’t said anything so far and so she didn’t need to do anything about it. Yet.

Sometimes Amara found herself slipping away from wanting to destroy the Malfoy’s. And some how, it seemed, Jonathan always knew that and wrote her letter about her parents. Some old memory he had with them, like a dinner or a birthday. Something heart tugging that made Amara grow bitter inside until she wanted to tear Draco limb by limb because she couldn’t quite yet get to his father.

Her feelings were constantly changing. She went from the feeling of actually enjoying her time with Draco to a feeling of repulsion any time she set eyes on him.

She didn’t like this game she was playing. She was constantly feeling drained, and what little energy she had left was wasted on school. She snapped at everyone and she was constantly angry.

Sometimes she wondered if this was the life her parents wanted for her.

Then she remember she would never know because they were taken from her.