Howl

I sit on a worn, old stool and a worn, old hat sits on me. I flicker my eyes upwards, hyperaware of every sound and movement in the room as we await the verdict from my sorting. Across the room, and through the thick wooden doors, I can hear a bounty of first year students being lectured by McGonagall. A man with black hair and a crooked noise is standing by my side.

“Ahh, you’ve come all the way from Sweden!” The hat had a deep voice and I let my eyes roam over the colours that splatter the hall in front of me. “Such a strong mind. My, I have encountered a mind like this before. Ylva Marduk her name was… Do you know her? I see that you do! She was your mother. I see also that you’ve inherited a few of your parents trait, little wolf. But where would you serve best in Hogwarts? Your mother was in Gryffindor, did you know? There’s something different from her to you however. I see no reason not to place you in—” I hold my breath and time stands still for a moment as the hat breaths slowly before bellowing an answer. “—Slytherin!”

I feel a smirk placing itself on my face as the man takes the hat off my head and smiles – he looks pleased and I wonder why – while he gestures towards the table with the green tapestry above it. I slip into a seat and smile at the people who welcome me.

“It’s nice to see you again,” I freeze before glancing up into cold, blue eyes. My whole body twitches and my instincts urge for me to run from the boy but I stay put. “We didn’t get much of a chance to talk.”

“No, I suppose we didn’t.” I can hear that the proper sorting ceremony is happening but don’t care to pull my eyes away from the sharp featured boy in front of me. Draco Malfoy smirks at me and I look through it to the wall behind his head. “I didn’t think you had anything interesting to say.”

I suddenly felt over exposed and uncomfortable as his eyes stare at me. I wasn’t usually one to crack under intense stares but Malfoy seemed to be the exception to this.

“So, you’re from Durmstrang?” I look up into the dark eyes of the boy to my right... He had a bright smile and lovely, dark skin that looked impeccably smooth.

“Yes.” I clear my throat: my voice was scratchy. “Yes.”

“Some change, huh?”

“For the better, I hope.”

“What language do your originally speak?”

I smile. “Finnish,” I say. “I’m originally from Sweden, however.”

I hear Malfoy begin to interject about how I speak one language while I'm originally from another--

“Say something then, teach me.”

I lean forward and my elbows and lace my fingers together before resting my chin on my hands. I smile at him and ask him his name. Blaise. “On kiva tavata, Blaise.” It’s nice to meet you, Blaise.

I marvel at the thought that even though Blaise doesn’t know what I just said to him – I could have insulted him for all he knew – he was still beaming up at me as though I had made his day.

I spend the rest of my time talking to Blaise and nodding curtly in Malfoy’s direction. He makes me nervous and I think that he knows it. To avoid his stares, I twist in my seat and narrow in on my train friends.

I see Harry, Ron and Hermione but have to search the Gryffindor table for a moment to narrow in on Ginny and Neville. I quietly excuse myself from my table and catch Hermione’s eyes. To my relief, she beckons me over.

“Lyall!” she throws her arms around me and hugs me as though we’re old friends. I smile and pat her back before sitting across from Ron and next to Hermione. “I wasn’t sure if you’d want to talk to us.”

“Because I’m Slytherin?” I blow a strand of hair from my eyes and giggle at them. “Maybe if I had been here to develop a hatred for the opposing houses as a child I might not have. I don’t see why I can’t be friends with you.”

“More people should think like that, I reckon.” Ron says this around a mouthful of food and I laugh at him as Hermione titters in disgust. Ron’s bright eyes slide by me to my table. “Malfoy’s got his eyes on you, Lyall.”

I roll my eyes at the thought while Neville and Ginny slide in next to us. They greet me warmly and I see relief in their eyes. Neville smiles brightly at me – it puts me at ease. I was worried he hated me.

“Why is he staring at you?”

“Maybe he doesn’t like me sitting here,” I shrug. I look at Ginny and she nods. I figured she’d know if this was typical behaviour of a Slytherin. “Whatever.”

I notice a blot of blood staining Harry’s white shirt and raise an eyebrow in his direction. He smiles and shakes his head. I can tell that it’s his blood. My gut drags me back to the Slytherin table where Malfoy was looking at me. I raise an eyebrow at him and jerk my head towards Harry with slitted eyes. He visibly pales and I laugh, tipping my head back before returning to the rest of my new friends.

“That’s odd,” Harry spits following my laughter as it dances towards Draco. I wonder if there’s more than house hatred between Malfoy and Harry. “He’s usually glaring when he looks over here. He’s just staring at the back of Lyall’s head in confusion.”

“So, tell us about your family.”

I do. I tell them how my mother died and that was why we moved - excluding the circumstances. I tell them about my father and how he was extremely brave and I tell them about my little brother who resented the fact he had to wait another year to come to Hogwarts. I tell them about our home back in Sweden and our family in Finland and my friends back in Durmstrang. I tell them how I miss the rest of my extended family but that I was grateful just to be here with my brother and my father – I missed my mother dearly, it was difficult being the only female around now but I would try my best to be grateful because I have reason to be.

“You and your family have such wonderful names.” Hermione leans forward, curiosity glistening in her eyes. I don’t want to divulge too deep into my family history so I shift anxiously away from her peering eyes while the other’s listen but chatter within themselves. My fingertips tingle and I have the desire to run away as quickly as I can. I try to keep my reaction under wraps though, there’s no need to worry. “What do they all mean?”

“Lyall and Zev mean the same thing.”

“That’s cool!” Ron exclaims. “Keeping that in your names, I mean. What do they mean? And Baile?”

“Baile means weak.” I shrug and crack a grin. “Obviously, our names don’t define us.”

“And Lyall?”

“Wolf.” I say. “It means wolf.”



I follow the flocks of green as they make their way to the deepest parts of the school. The dungeons, I was told, was where the Slytherin common room. I wonder if that was why they were all so bitter. I kept to myself as best as I could. I was worried I was coming off as anxious and jittery (I hoped people just put it down to first day nerves and all).

I’ve slipped inside the common room by the time anyone approaches me. Can you guess who it is?
“Why were you talking to those blood-traitors?”

I squint at Malfoy. “Why are you so quick to judge on blood, tietämätön poika? Do you even know of my blood status?”

“I’ve heard your name before.” He says tersely as he pulls me to sit with him in front of a fire. Younger students scatter as he approaches and I wonder why. He didn’t seem particularly frightening. “I know you’re from a good, pureblood family.”

“How do you—”

“My father works for the Ministry.”

I twitch. I wonder how much his father knows about me and my family. I try to drive the attention away from that. “Why do you care so much? We’re not even friends.”

“Why can’t we be?” Draco looks at me with such innocence in his face that I try to think of reasons that we can’t be friends and come up empty. I open and close my mouth like a fish and he smirks. Why was I so eager to disregard him? Had he really done anything wrong? “There’s something about you. I don’t know what it is but ever since I touched you on the train… I don’t know what it is.”

I rear back a few inches and narrow my eyes at the portrayal of innocence he shows. I get the impression he’s not the type of guy you label with ‘innocence’. Malfoy continues to stare at me as my eyes dart hungrily around his face for some sign of deceit. If there’s any, I don’t pick up on it.

“I’m not as bad as they say,” he chuckles nervously and I smile at him. “just friends, okay?”

“Okay.” I yield and crack a smile, before curling my legs up underneath me and casting my eyes towards the crackling fire in front of us. “Just friends.”

“I don’t suppose Potter will be too pleased with this.”

“Harry?” I scoff and turn back to face him with a roll of my eyes. I’ve been here barely over five hours and already I was seeing the divide between the houses – I didn’t think it was this prominent. “What’s he got to do with him?”

Draco snorts humourlessly. “The bloke couldn’t keep his eyes off you!”

“Funny,” my face stretches into a smile and I smirk at him. “That’s exactly what he said about you.”

Draco opens his mouth, smirking, and begins to protest or explain this when a high, shrill voice pierces the joking attitude we had going on between us. I cringe and turn to see a girl much shorter than myself with a continuous sneer upon her possibly pretty features. I edge away from her – she’s not dangerous so much as threatening towards me. A fight or flight dilemma plays out in my head and I wager my chances at each but rather than do either, I stay put next to Draco. Her black hair is straight and crowds around her face.

“Drakie.” My fingers twitch and the edges of my lips threaten to pull into a smile. I don’t want to make any enemies on my first day now, do I? The pug-faced girl forces her way in between a disgruntled Draco and I. “Where have you been?”

“Here.” I stifle a giggle at the dread and disgust in his voice. “Can we help you?”

“Oh, so you’re a ‘we’?” The girl regards me with something like cold disgust. To rile her, I flutter my aching fingers in a wave and smile sweetly. Behind her large nose, I see Draco’s bright teeth as he smiles at me. “Who are you, anyway?”

“My name’s Lyall.” I tip my head, smile. “It’s lovely to meet you..?”

“Pansy.”

“Oh,” I blink in surprise. “What an unfortunate name. Do you have a hard time because of it?”

“What’s wrong with my name?” Pansy sneers at me and I smile at her innocently. I forget I had mentioned anything about not making any enemies – especially since this girl was being so snotty with me – and prod some more at the beast. “What was your name anyway? Lyall? What does that even mean?”

“Wolf.” I was less reluctant to tell this silly girl. She didn’t really care what my name meant.

Pansy gives a snort of indignation as though she had never heard anything to ridiculous. My eyes slip by her large face and I offer the bemused Draco a smile. He winks at me and I roll my eyes as Pansy begins to speak. “Wolf?” she cortles. “What kind of ridiculous name is wolf?!”

“Ahem,” Draco speaks up for the first time since Pansy had pushed herself between us. Pansy beams at him. I raise an eyebrow. “I don’t know if you know what Draco means, Parkinson. It means Dragon, which, in my opinion, is far more ridiculous than wolf.”