Slytherin Is For Dummies

Slytherin Is for Dummies

Part One: Chocolate Frogs, Gryffindor, and Slytherin

Alexandra Malfoy

I lay in my bed, staring at the white ceiling, a thousand thoughts running through my head. In less than a month, my cousin and I would depart for King’s Cross and Platform Nine-and-Three-Quarters, where the train for Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry awaited us.

There, we would be sorted into one of the four Houses: Gryffindor (which I did not want to be in), Slytherin (I really wanted to be in that one with cousin Draco), Ravenclaw (not too shabby, Slytherin’s the best, though), or Hufflepuff (dumbest House in Hogwarts by my opinion).

What if I didn’t get picked for Slytherin? What if I was placed into Gryffindor? Uncle Lucius said that the famous Harry Potter was coming to Hogwarts in the same year as Draco and I (with a hint of disgust in his voice, I may add).

Uncle Lucius despised Harry Potter with all of his soul, for some reason; always talking about him like Potter was a particularly nasty hex he couldn’t get rid of. He never told us why he hated the boy—although Draco assumed it was because of his father, James Potter.

Speaking of Draco…

I got up quietly from my bedroom and tiptoed down the hall toward my cousin’s bedroom. Gently rapping on the door, there was a muffled “Come in”, and I pushed the mahogany slab open.

Even though it was one in the morning, my cousin was also staring up at the ceiling, wrapped in a tangle of bed sheets—that’s the way he liked to sleep, apparently. It was unnaturally cold in Draco’s room, which was caused by his window being left ajar.

He looked at me, shivering from the cold in my flimsy nightgown. “Couldn’t sleep?”

I nodded. “Yeah.”

“Me too. Thinking about Hogwarts?”

“Yeah.”

Draco untangled himself, got out of his bed and walked toward me. “What’s the matter, Alexandra?” he asked me.

“Nothing,” I replied, though everything was wrong. The thoughts of Gryffindor and Slytherin flashed through my mind, but I ignored them.

“I know that Mother highly disapproves of this, but I think this matter calls for it.” he grabbed my arm—his hands were ice cold—and led me toward his closet.

Rummaging through some drawers, Draco brought out an assortment of candies. Chocolate Frogs, Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Beans, Ice Mice, and others. My mouth watered at the sight.

“Draco! Where did you get all of these?” I asked in amazement as he spread them on his bed. I opened a Chocolate Frog, letting the brown frog hop around on the bed. I was uninterested in the frog part—the only good part was the magical cards.

“Secret,” he grinned, popping an Every Flavour bean into his mouth. Even at eleven years old, the same age as me, Draco was a very sneaky boy. “Eugh—spinach.”

“You know Uncle Lucius and Aunt Narcissa are going to be mad,” I giggled.

“I know! But they’re never going to know—I know a spell that can clean up the mess.”

“But you don’t even have a wand!”

“Don’t need one, for this spell. Looked it up in the Wandless Spells book in the library.”

“Alright, as long as it’s not a joke.” Shrugging, I looked at the Famous Wizard card I had gotten.

“I got Dumbledore, again,” I said in disappointment. “I already have four of him.”

Albus Dumbledore, currently Headmaster at Hogwarts, was a bumbling old wizard who didn’t know half the things he said—at least, that’s what Uncle Lucius said. To quote: “It was a wonder he even got the job, that idiotic fool.” Uncle hated him almost as much as he did Harry Potter. That must be some serious hate.

“I’ll give it to Dobby,” I decided. “He’ll like it, Dumbledore is his favorite—” I stopped at the horrified expression on Draco’s face.

“Give it to Dobby?” He said in disbelief. “You know the rules—if we give Dobby something, he’ll be set free!”

“But this isn’t clothing,” I argued, setting Dumbledore down. The old wizard looked disapprovingly at me, but I didn’t care. Albus Dumbledore could kiss my—

“It’s a possession,” Draco retorted, throwing a bean at me. “And if Dobby is given something from his masters, then he’ll be free, and poof! No more Dobby.”