Taking a deep, calming breath, Daphne turned to address her sister and tried not to sound like a horrid bitch, keeping her voice even and mild, and her tone low enough so that no one else knew she was gently rebuking the girl.
“I have never stated that you were, Tori. I recognize that you are fast maturing at the proper physical rate. However, your mental development must occur at a synonymous rate if you are to survive in this House. That includes making smart decisions and rummaging for social cues before interjecting yourself into a conversation or situation. To speak ahead of considering your questions or imparting information could mete out your downfall. We have discussed this before.” Conveying such wisdom was the only way Daphne saw of helping her little sister survive dwelling alongside the other Slytherins once she graduated in a week, for Tori still had two more years until she matriculated from Hogwarts, and unless she appreciated and assimilated these important lessons soon, her final four Terms would be utterly miserable for the girl.
Daphne would spare her affable, guileless, gullible sister such pain, if she could.
Putting her fork and knife down, Daphne daubed her lips with her napkin, and then put a hand over Tori’s as it rested on the bench between them.
“In this case, what Pansy and I are discussing is truly nothing of significance, just a bit of tittle-tattle.”
Tori’s brilliant smile lit up her face and she looked with honest eyes up at the taller Daphne.
“Sorry for being so nosy, sis.”
Daphne shook her head and smiled back.
“Curious, remember? Snape is the only nosy one around here.” It was an oft-told joke around their House that their Head’s hooked beak was large enough to rival a hippogriff’s.
Her sister erupted into peals of laughter once more at the sly innuendo.
The sound was merry and frank and artlessa sound not ever heard at a Slytherin gathering.
Out of the corner of her eye, Daphne caught sight of Theo as he turned his attention in their direction to investigate the commotion.
Her heart beat just a little faster under his scrutiny.
X~~~~~~~~~X Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry, Scotland Hallway to Transfiguration Classrooms Friday, June 12, 1998 (morning)
Ron was walking the hallway, his satchel the lightest it had been all term now that exams were over.
He slung the bag about in the nearly empty corridor, late for McGonagall’s class, but not truly concerned, since he’d already had his final exam interview with her, and was merely required to show up out of a need for the school to ‘maintain routine.’
He considered whistling low a merry jig taught him by Charlie over the Easter break, but ditched the idea in a heartbeat when he heard the sound of a female in tears coming from a window niche up ahead.
Yes, that was definitely a girl crying.
Shite.
What should he do?
Should he keep walking and pretend he didn’t see or hear the girl, who sounded as if she was valiantly trying to stifle heavy sobs against some sort of fabric, or did he run past her at top speed instead?
He had to get to class; old McGonagall would notice he was missing and might even use that as the excuse to flunk him, as she’d threatened to do to anyone who skived off her classes this week or next, passing exam scores or not.
He shifted around as he contemplated his options, his feet scuffing the stone flooring.
The girl’s crying abruptly stopped.
“Who’s there?” she demanded.
“Uhhhh,” he began, but that was as far as he got before Pansy Parkinson popped out of her hidden location, face streaked with tears, cheeks reddened by embarrassment and anger, and dark eyes spitting mad.
“Weasley!” she snarled in righteous fury, spitting his name out as if it were a blasphemous thing.
“Spying, were you?
I shouldn’t be surprised.
I’d expect no less from the boy,” she emphasized the word, “who’d been caught sneaking peeks in the Prefect’s bathroom every Sunday afternoon last year.
What despicable manners you have!” This chapter was taken from g.com without permission.
Taken aback at the unfounded attack, Ron could only stare at Slytherin’s Bitch Queen with open-mouthed astonishment.
Spying?
Was she serious?
“I wasn’t! I didn’t!” he refuted, feeling indignation pitting a corrosive, acid hole in his stomach.
He’d put up with Parkinson’s bite for the last seven years, giving it back to her every time she challenged and sassed him, so he expected ridiculousness to spew from her mouth every time she opened it.
But to have her unjustly accuse him of stalking her like some sick pervert was pushing it.
He may have been caught in a few compromising positions with Lavender over the past year, but he’d never peeped the Prefect’s bath, and he certainly wasn’t spying on this witch!
“You’re in the middle of the hallway, Parkinson! How’s a bloke supposed to get to class and not notice your weeping mug gushing all over the place? Bloody drama queen!” Parkinson’s eyebrows shot into her hairline and her fists clenched at her side.
She stomped forward, bristles up like some sort of badger on the attack.
“How dare you, you hideous, intellectually-challenged carrot top!” she screeched in ear-splitting volume, closing the distance between them.
“I’ll have you know, Weasley, that I’m considered quite beautiful by some people!” In one of her hands, she held a piece of wadded up paper that she shook at him now.
“Some wizards find me so attractive, in fact, that they’ve sued my father to court me already!”
He scoffed and shook his head.
“Well, obviously, they’re blind, aren’t they? And clearly deaf, too!” He stuck a finger in one ear and wiggled it around, as if to clear it of the ringing her high-pitched voice had caused.
“Honestly, you screech like a lunatic Veela. I s’pect you might’ve deafened me.” Pulling that same finger out of his ear, he pointed it directly in her face in a moment of brilliant clarity.
“Hey, I’ve got an idea: you could put those big lungs of yours to use and make an honest living after graduation. I’m sure there are plenty of openings for a good tuba player or balloon blower out there somewhere, and it beats whoring yourself out to some pure-blood ponce just to make dad and mum happy, yeah?”