"— Oh, look, morning entertainment," Daphne remarked as a very old owl with a red envelope in its beak flew toward the Gryffindor table.
"— What are you talking about?" Harry asked, confused as to why all the Slytherins at their table were looking in the same direction. In fact, everyone in the Great Hall was staring.
"— It's a Howler. You'll see—or rather, hear—for yourself in a moment," Tracey explained. A second later, the owl crash-landed onto the table, falling onto its back right in front of Ron.
"— Ha," Malfoy snorted. "— How long do you think they've been using that owl?"
"— Probably since old Mr. Weasley was a boy," Nott joked. Before anyone could say more, the red envelope rose above the table, and a mouth appeared in its center.
"— RONALD WEASLEY!" a loud, shrill woman's voice pierced the silence of the Great Hall, making several people jump in their seats. "— HOW DARE YOU SAY SUCH HORRIBLE THINGS?! YOU'VE NOT ONLY EMBARRASSED OUR FAMILY, BUT NOW YOUR FATHER IS DEALING WITH QUESTIONS AT WORK! I HAVE NEVER BEEN SO ASHAMED IN MY LIFE! YOU HAD BETTER START BEHAVING, OR I WILL PERSONALLY COME TO THE SCHOOL AND TAKE YOU HOME!" The envelope stopped yelling and ripped itself into pieces, leaving scraps of paper on the plate of a red-faced and humiliated Ron Weasley.
Many people burst into laughter, making Ron scowl before he stood up and stormed out of the hall.
"— Don't get me wrong, Weasley is a jerk, but did his mother really just yell at him in front of the entire school?" Harry asked, unable to help himself. "— No wonder he acts like an idiot if that's how his mother is," the boy added, shaking his head in disbelief. Harry wasn't, and never would be, an expert in parenting, but he was fairly certain that publicly humiliating your child was the last thing you should do.
As Harry and the other Slytherins left the Great Hall, they stopped, seeing Ron Weasley standing in their path, glaring at them with pure hatred.
"— I bet this made you really happy, didn't it?!" Ron barked at the person he blamed for all his troubles.
"— I didn't plan this," the accused replied with a shrug. "— Honestly, how was I supposed to know your own mother would yell at you in front of the entire school? At worst, I thought she'd pull you aside and scold you later."
"— The whole school is laughing at me because of you!"
"— And how exactly is that his fault?" Daphne smirked, unfazed by the Gryffindor's anger. "— You're the one who provoked him, and you're the one who made that awful comment after Tracey almost got hurt. Some 'noble' Gryffindor you are."
"— Shut up, snake!"
"— You do realize that's just a house symbol, right?" Harry smirked, raising an eyebrow. "— Has no one told you that you're not actually a lion?"
"— Shut up, Potter!" Ron spat. "— You might think you're so cool, but you're not! I'd beat you in a duel in seconds!"
"— I'm sure you would," the Slytherin rolled his eyes. "— Now, if you're done, we actually have important things to do." With that, Harry walked past Weasley, the other Slytherins following behind him.
"— You should've accepted his duel," Malfoy grumbled once they were out of earshot. "— He's a pathetic wizard; you'd beat him easily."
"— Maybe," Harry nodded. "— But if I fight him, I risk getting into trouble, and it would make Weasley think he's important. I'll just ignore him."
"— That'll only make him angrier," Tracey commented.
"— If he raises his wand against me, then I'll show him the difference. Until then, let him dig his own grave," Harry replied dismissively.
"— So, how did it go?" Daphne asked when Harry and Draco returned to the common room after trying out for the Quidditch team. They were the only Slytherin first-years who had attempted the tryouts.
"— I didn't make it," Malfoy grumbled, dropping into a chair.
"— I'm on the team," Harry said calmly, taking the seat next to him.
"— Are you sure you've never played Quidditch before?" the blond asked, frowning skeptically at his classmate.
"— Today was my first time."
"— Merlin, you're going to be ridiculously good once you gain experience."
"— So, you made the team?" Blaise asked excitedly. "— That must mean you're the youngest Seeker in a century!"
"— You should've seen him on a broom," Malfoy muttered grudgingly. "— It was like he's been playing his whole life."
"— I wasn't that good," Harry protested modestly, though he was pleased with the result.
"— Oh, really? You scored more goals than anyone else and only missed one out of ten. Gryffindor won't even know what hit them."
"— Flint reminded me to threaten you all to keep quiet," Harry addressed the group. "— So, not a word."
"— You need to work on your threats," Daphne remarked dryly. "— So, when's your first match?"
"— Right after Halloween."
"— Oh yeah, the holiday is coming up soon," Pansy said enthusiastically.
"— Is attendance mandatory?" Harry frowned at her comment.
"— What's mandatory?"
"— Attending the feast."
"— I... honestly don't know."
"— Not really," Angela chimed in, walking over with a letter in hand. "— They expect you to come, but if you don't, nothing will happen."
"— Good to know, thanks."
"— You're welcome," the third-year smiled before turning to Blaise. "— I'm here for your letter." The boy nodded and pulled the requested letter from his robes, handing it to his sister, who then walked away.
"— What was that about?" Theo asked first.
"— Just a letter to my mom. She expects one every month."
"— Mine does too," Draco confirmed. "— It's such a headache."
"— Oh, you poor things," Harry mock-sympathized.
The Slytherin first-years were currently sitting in Charms class with the Gryffindors. Harry, as usual, was seated between Tracey and Daphne, Blaise was to the left of Greengrass, and Draco was to the right of Davis. Naturally, the Gryffindors sat on the opposite side of the room, though Harry couldn't help but wonder if it was planned or just terrible luck that he was directly across from Ron. Weasley limited himself to glaring at Potter but didn't dare start an argument in class.
"— Come here, red baboon," hissed Jet, draped lazily over his owner's shoulders. The mentioned baboon wasn't a Parselmouth and couldn't understand the words, but he got the gist that it wasn't anything good and turned away. "— That's what I thought," the snake hissed in satisfaction.
"— Good morning, everyone," Professor Flitwick greeted the students cheerfully as he stood in front of the class. "— Let's begin, shall we? Today, we'll be practicing one of the most fundamental wizarding skills: levitation. Simply put, it's the ability to make objects fly. Now, do you all have a feather in front of you?" He paused, glancing around to ensure each student had the required item. "— Excellent. Remember, it's all in the wrist—light, fluid motion, followed by a flick. Show me the required wand movements," he instructed, pausing to let the class demonstrate. "— Very good. Now, remember the verbal incantation: 'Wingardium Leviosa.' Be careful and pronounce it correctly. Off you go, give it a try."
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