Unexpected

Yuletide Cheer

Then she'd walked in yesterday and seen the loneliness in the girl's eyes. Her decision being made instantly, she'd gone to help without any intention of actually befriending the girl. But damned if she wasn't starting to like her. The pureblood in her rebelled at the thought, while her heart, which she'd been told was much too trusting, reached out to the other girl. Four years separated them, rival Houses separated them, but they seemed to actually have quite a bit in common. Both loved to read, both loved their classes, and both loved knowledge above all else. In less than a day, Lycelle found herself starting to trust the other girl, and her sister's voice echoed in her head.

'Never put faith in a mudblood, Lycelle, for they are weak-willed and easily corrupted. Our lives are too dark and too intense on too many different levels. Levels that they cannot even begin to comprehend. It will only bring you grief.'

How many times had Pansy told her that? Her sister had never lied to her, but she wanted to make a decision on her own for once. She was almost fourteen and about to finish her third year at Hogwarts. Surely she was old enough to decide whether or not be friends with someone, even if it was a Gryffindor. After all, where would they be if Draco and Blaise hadn't given Virginia a chance? Okay, well, she knew that was a bit different, but still. Hermione seemed like a perfectly nice girl, even if she did have vitiated blood and a few character flaws that were likely to get her maimed or killed while around Lycelle's Housemates.

"Yes, I heard about it." Lycelle responded, taking in Hermione's pale face and worried brown eyes. "Look, I love my sister, alright? Shit, she's almost like half of a mother to me. But I'm not a little miniature Pansy, no matter what you may believe. I think what happened with Anton was fucked up because of the timing and because you chose him, but I don't overly blame or condemn you for it, alright?"

"That's the same thing Ginny said." Hermione whispered softly. "She told me that she couldn't without being a hypocrite, because she still would have lain with Blaise and Draco even if they hadn't wanted a relationship with her. Then she'd mumbled something like, 'If you'd only been a Slytherin, or even just a pureblood', but I'm not sure what she meant."

"She meant that if you were a Slytherin, Pansy might still have been upset for obvious reasons, but no one else would have been, not even her friends, and she wouldn't have been nearly so mad. Casual sex in our House is nothing remotely new, after all, and—" Hermione cut her off.

"Then why do they all look at me like...like they do?" She asked, just a hint of something desperate in her voice. Lycelle stopped, gave her a long, searching look, and pulled her into one of the many shadowy alcoves that were built into the walls all over the Manor.

"Alright, listen to me, Hermione." She started seriously. "I like you, okay? But I'm...different then the others. They look at you like that because you're not a Slytherin. You're not even pure. If you were, they wouldn't have lost the little bit of respect that they had for you. They see most mud—muggleborns who, no offense, whore for them, as nothing more than that. Whores. They do not like your kind, and they never will. The only reason I'm more open to it is because I grew up with my grandmother, and she's not as...strict about such things. So, yes, our House is all for casual sex, and no one is ostracized for it like they are in the other Houses." She paused; making sure that the other girl understood what she was saying before continuing.

"No one but muggleborns. They see you as lesser than them, and they have plenty of justifiable reasons. The blood running through our veins is ancient, timeless, powerful, while the blood of muggles is weak and magicless. Mixing the two decreases the essence of it, even I agree with that. I'm not necessarily saying that it makes you weaker magically, but it does dilute the...quality. And my Housemates, well, you know how strong most of them are, how dark. And the darker they become, the closer they intertwine themselves with the void, the more the old magick in their blood awakens. That awakening gives them new perception, and they can see, they can smell, the tain—the mixed blood in a muggleborn's veins. You smell weak to them, you smell like prey, you smell like something lower on the evolutionary chain."