There was something deeply unsettling about the Slytherin common room. Each face, every one as distant as unreadable as the one before it, helped depict the final work of art that was a Pureblood Slytherin student. Each person had a set of expectations thrust down upon their shoulders, set by either their elder siblings’ examples or their parents’ own desire to see the child do well. For the young men it was to eventually join the ranks of Lord Voldemort’s Death Eaters and ensure that somehow they procured an heir to carry on the family name. For the young women it was imperative they find themselves a husband and supply said heir. From there they had no choice but to sit back and watch their husbands cavort with whoever they wanted as their jobs were done. And even without Lord Voldemort at the Death Eater helm, they were still as ruthless as ever.
All of this materialised on the faces of the Slytherins. Even if it was only for a second, a slight slip of the facial muscles, the stress was there and that was what made the common room such a horrific place to be a part of. Through the fake smiles and the measured laughter there was an undercurrent of fear in them all, supported only by the arrogance and false self-assurance that they all purveyed. It was impossible to figure out what was more wretched, the fact that people as young as they were, were wound as tight as they were or that even in the safety of their own common room around people they should have been able to trust it was still a battle of wits in an attempt to outdo one another. It was self-assurance no doubt.
Power, however precarious, ensured a vague amount of safety. That’s all Slytherins really wanted to ensure - their own safety. Gryffindors dived in head first, Hufflepuffs did nothing, Ravenclaws eyed up the situation before heading in and Slytherins wanted to make sure their own safety and success was assured before doing anything. They were probably the best example of human nature. Not everyone was as impulsive or as smart or as useless or as crafty and evil as the houses suggested. They were just people.
In the face of war, people seemed to forget that their enemies too are people with thoughts and feelings. They seemed to forget that the person they were shooting spells at had a mother and a father, that they were someone’s son or daughter and that they might even be someone else’s mother or father. Human bonds seemed to mean nothing once the situation changed. They were all connected in some way - whether through hate or through love. The latter seemed to be lacking though. Cocooned in their own groups and in their own belief systems, to reach out into the other field was to sin....so they didn’t.
The entrance of another Slytherin pulled Audrey from her thoughts. She’d drifted off the same way Beck had done as he’d been momentarily absorbed in reminisce. Audrey tipped her head to the side and smiled absent-mindedly. “Inquisitive, aren’t we?” She mocked. “But then aren’t we all? It’s customary to pick on a new face isn’t it? How do you like Hogwarts so far? You’ve probably been placed in the wrong house if you want to make friends with what many would consider ‘agreeable’ people. We Slytherins are not shown to the world in the best of light. Though, I suppose it is true what they say....no wizard that ever went bad wasn’t in Slytherin. So perhaps befriending those of gentler intentions would be better. Unless of course your intentions aren’t entirely pure. Then, of course, it might be best that you speak to Rookwood or Flint. I’m sure they’d point you in the right direction.”
The divide was clear, even in their own house. There was no honour amongst thieves and certainly not amongst those all fighting for a slice of the power that many were too weak to seek.
(You’re doing really well! I didn’t notice at all. Heh. I’ve just been really enjoying reading your posts! Now we are a trio, though! Even better!)
by Orla Hughes Tue Sep 13, 2011 9:13 pm
