Slytherin

“Wow, this is, er, festive,” I said, overwhelmed, as I slipped off the blindfold that Neville had placed over my eyes (the only way that the other Gryffindors would allow me to come, as I was told).

The Gryffindor common room was overly celebratory, its only competitor being the Great Hall during the Halloween feast. Paper bats were charmed to fly around the room, messages were being written on the frost on the window, candy was displayed all over every available table top, and in the center of it all, was a giant projector that I recognized from Defense Against the Dark Arts class last year when Snape was substituting for Lupin. I’m sure it wasn’t easy nicking that from Snape’s closet. Other than the decorations, the common room was much smaller than the Slytherin’s, but it was warm and cozy, homey. The fireplace lit the room under an orange-red glow, completely different from the green glow that was reflected onto the walls of the Slytherin one.

I recognized some of the most famous Gryffindors in my year still putting up decoration, like Dean Thomas, putting up some orange and black streamers using the levitating charm, Seamus Finnigan, messing around with the projector, and Hermione Granger, charging full speed ahead to greet Neville and me at the entrance. She had a tremendously large smile on her face that would make the Cheshire cat jealous as she stuck her hand out for me to shake.

“Hello there, I’m Hermione Granger!” she welcomed me boisterously. “You must be Paige Hollands, correct?”

I grinned a little and chuckled before accepting her hand. “Yeah, that’s right. So, you’re not intimidated by the fact that there’s a Slytherin in your common room?”

Her smiled dropped an inch and a half before answering. “Well, erm, no. Neville has told us loads about you, and you seem, er, nice enough.”

Maybe it would be a good idea if I lost the smart-ass Slytherin attitude. Before I could apologize or say anything, I heard a cold comment come from the corner of the room.

“What’s a Slytherin doing in here?” asked a boy, which I found was one of the infamous Weasley twins, which one, I could never be sure. His twin was standing right behind them, and they were standing with their arms crossed, mirror images of each other.

I narrowed my eyes at them, and was about to respond when Neville stood in front of me protectively.

“I, I invited her,” he said boldly, with a look of pain on his face. He swallowed and I saw his features tighten, as if bracing himself for the worst.

The twins looked at each other skeptically at first, and then a small grin crept onto their cheeky faces.

Before I could ask what was going on, I was whisked away off my feet and dragged to a nearby chair in a corner.

“Would you like to buy a product from the fabulous Twins of Weasleys?” the one on the right (I really couldn’t tell who was who) asked me eagerly, holding up a large red suitcase labeled, Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes. I was instantly uneasy.

“We have a large variety of manufactured goods that are high quality and very much enjoyable, with some redeeming qualities,” the other advertised with a grin, winking at his twin.

“That’s enough out of you two!” Hermione scolded, pushing the two to the side and pulling me up. “Honestly, I thought your mother destroyed all of your stock!”

“You dishearten us, Granger,” the one on the left said (they really need to get some nametags), shaking his head in fake disappointment. “You think that just because dear old mum destroyed our stock means that we would give up our life of tricks-”

“Shenanigans-” the other twin added.

“And tom foolery?” the first one finished.

“We’re trying to start a business here,” twin number 2 explained. “We would just like a couple of galleons to get a head start. You know, one day, we’ll be the greatest joke shop owners in all of England-”

“And you’ll be begging us to give you some of our merchandise,” twin number 1 finished with a satisfactory look on his face.

“Yes, and chocolate frogs might rain fall from the sky,” she retorted sarcastically, rolling her eyes and grabbing my arm protectively. “Come on, Paige, I’ll let you borrow some pajamas and get you away from these two.”

“Bye,” I giggled, waving my fingers at them. They really were entertaining.

“She wants me,” they both said in unison, nodding their heads.

Hermione led me up the stairs to the girl’s dorms before I got a chance to see a fight break out between the two of them. Oh yes, those boys were very amusing.

I was wondering why Hermione was letting me borrow clothes when I remembered that I was still wearing my Serena costume from the Halloween Party. Not very appropriate. There was no one else in the room when we reached it. I pulled out my wand and tapped my hair, allowing it to lose its blond color. My eyes followed Hermione as she walked to one of the four-posters and opened the trunk that stood in front of it. She pulled out a pair of pink and white stripped pajama bottoms along with a matching pink shirt. Pink wasn’t necessarily my favorite color, but beggars can’t be choosers.

“You know,” Hermione began, turning around so that her bushy hair was facing me. “Neville...he...he really likes you, Paige.”

I stopped the action of pulling my shirt off.

“From the day he met you, he’s been talking about you non-stop,” she continued, scratching the back of her head. “He’s never really had a true friend, a best friend, or even a, er, a girlfriend.”

“I know,” I commented quietly, pulling the pants on.

“And everyone knows that you’re Malfoy’s-”

“I am not Malfoy’s,” I growled, outfit complete. I tapped her on the shoulder to indicate that I had finished, and she turned around to face me, bashfully.

“Are you sure about that?” Hermione asked, biting her lips and eyebrows knitted together. “You like Malfoy, and he obviously likes you. He thinks you’re his, and everyone’s learned it as well. Do you have any idea what kind of affect this has on Neville? He has enough self-esteem issues as it is. And you’ve...you have given him hope that he is not a failure.”

“I don’t like putting all of that pressure on him-”

“Then why do you do it?” she demanded. “Stop being so selfish and leading both of them on. You have to pick one.”

“This is none of your concern, Granger,” I snarled suddenly, taking a step back away from her in offense. “It is not my intention to lead either of them on. I am simply Neville’s friend. I am not Malfoy’s property. I am me.”

“Oh, well then,” Hermione said, wetting her lips, clearly agitated. “Then it’s true.”

“What’s true?” I growled viciously, really wanting to give back these pajamas. I realize now that this was all an excuse to get me alone and interrogate me about my friends.

“You are just like every other Slytherin,” she explained. “He kept telling me that you were different, and I didn’t want to believe him. Now I have a reason not to.”

She pushed passed me and whipped the door opened, letting it slam onto the stone walls with a loud ‘smack.’ I remained behind, starring at Hermione’s bed, thinking about what she had said. I couldn’t choose between them. I love them both.

I finally sighed, and decided to leave this fight for another day, and followed the same path that Hermione had taken down to the common room, where Neville was being surrounded by all of the Gryffindor boys. The scene forced a smile onto my face, lifting my mood. Neville spotted me leaning casually against the wall of the stairwell, and all eyes followed his gaze. They swallowed and backed away slowly, and I ran up to him and grabbed his hand, leading him to a place on the floor where we would have a good view of the movie. The other boys stood in awe and glared jealously at Neville, including the Weasley twins. It made me happy.

“Alright, Neville?” I whispered in his ear.

“Yeah,” he said, blushing Gryffindor maroon.

“What did they want?” I asked him, already knowing what his answer was going to be.

“Um, nothing,” he said, visibly lying. “Just wanted to know, er, where I met you, things like that.”

I chuckled, and crossed my legs together, grabbing a handful of some sort of yellow pastries from a nearby table. I was about to put it in my mouth when I was bombarded, once again, but the Weasley twins.

“Don’t eat that!” they yelled in harmony, dog piling on top of me.

“Bloody hell!” I complained, dropping the pastry onto the floor. “What was that all about?”

The one closest to my head looked at me and smiled, waggling his eyebrows.

“Come here often?” he asked, resting his chin on his hand while his twin grabbed the treat.

“Get off!” I said through giggles, pushing them both off of me.

Poor Neville was pushed backwards so that he had landed with his legs over his head, a very uncomfortable position to look at. I pulled him right side up and glared at the twins, demanding what had happened.

“Er, nothing!” one said, smiling and hiding the pastry behind his back. “I think it’s time we start the movie!”

He pulled out his wand and tapped the projector, and the movie was being projected onto a white screen hung up on the wall.

“About time,” I mumbled, not wanting to know what was inside that pastry. “So what movie is it?”

“Halloween, I think,” Neville answered, still flustered from being tackled. “Some old muggle movie that Hermione suggested. Speaking of Hermione, do you know what’s wrong with her? She stormed out of the girl’s dorms and headed up the boy’s one.”

“Erm, no, I don’t know what happened,” I lied, looking away from him and at the screen. The Gryffindors all began taking seats around us, occasionally casting envious glares at Neville. “What about Harry? How’s doing after, you know?”

“Harry’s not really in the mood for partying,” Neville whispered illicitly, shrugging his shoulders. “Everyone seems to think that he really did put his name in the Goblet.”

“Do you think he did it?” I inquired, looking him in the eyes.

He shook his head. “If I know Harry, it would be that he would never try to get himself any attention. He hates it all.”

“You really are a good friend Neville,” I complimented, giving his shoulder a slight shove. He smiled at me happily, the tips of his ears turning pink.

“Shh!” someone yelled from the front. “The movie’s starting.”

I rolled my eyes and leaned back onto my elbows, and allowed the old crappy movie to play.