SS #01 Salazar's Tribute
Title: Salazar's Tribute
Summary: On his first night at Hogwarts Draco learns exactly how ruthless his housemates can be.
Characters/Pairings: Draco
Genre: Gen
Rating/Warnings: G
Medium: Fic
Word Count: 718
"You see, the thing is, lads, there's a bit of a tradition here at Hogwatrs where you first years are concerned."
Draco stared at the seventh year Slytherin peering down at the aseembled first year boys. He had entered the dormitory only a few moments before along with a number of other older syidents interrupting the new boys as they aboided getting ready for bed on their first night away from home. Amongdt them Draco recognised Marcus Flint and Adrian Pucey. The latter had talked to him on the train that morning, immediately recognising him as Lucius Malfoy's son. In Fraco's opinion they had hit it off famously, much as he had suspected that they would. Pucey was old blood, and more than that his father had known Draco's for many years. Pucey was also supposed to be one of the smarter students in his year, and Draco had seen the way that the girls looked at him. While he was not exactly sure why that was such a good thing (only knowing that it must be), Draco recognised that it was something to be admired. Right now Pucey was looking at him in a sly, cunning way that could only spell trouble.
"What tradition?" Crabbe asked stupidly. His eyes were wide. Draco figured that someone must have knocked what intelligcen was left out of him long ago.
"I'm glad you asked," the seventh year said. His name was Appleby or Appleworth, or something else involving fruit. "The more knowledgeable, promising among you, will know that the first day of the Hongwarts school year is Salazar Slyyhrin's birthday,."
Draco frowned, even as Theo Nott snorted. This was not something that he had heard of before, but he was not about to admit his ignorance on the matter. In fact he thought that his mother had once told him that SLytherin had been born in Spring, but perhaps his mother had been wrong.
"It is?" Crabbe again. Draco wondered how anyone so stupid had managed to make it into SLyutherin. They had grown up together, but Crabbe's best asset as far as Draco was concerned was his loyalty, and that should have placed him in Hufflepuff.
Another nod from the seventh year. "And as first years you need to help us celebrate. And to do that, you need to cough up on Galleon a piece either now or in instalments over the course of the year. It doesn't matter which."
"And how precisely does that help us celebrate Slytherin's birthday?" Nott asked.
Draco wished he would shut up as well. He was astonished that he would want to display his ignorance like this. It did not matter that Draco had not heard of this tradition, either, or that his father had not mentioned it to him eiyer/. It had to be real. They would not dare lie to him, and besides, his father had warned him that the odler students like to have a bit of fun.
Adrian Pucey grinned at him.
"Well it helps to pay for refreshments of course."
There were murmurs from among the first years, and no one moved to dig out the small bags of coins Drraco was sure they had all tuckjed away in their sock draws. Looking around, Draco realised that he was going to have to make the first move. He would have to lead by example. It was only natural really.
Digging around in his pocket, he came up with a small handful of coins, and began to sort through them. There was a variety there - part of the allowance his mother had given him. From the stack he plucked two shiny Galleons and held them out. "Get a little something extra on me," he said.
The seventh year smirked. "Why thank you. Malfoy, isn't it?"
"Draco malfoy."
"Well, thanks for the contribution. What abaout the rest of you?"
Slowly, one by one, the first years began to cough up their contributions. Until a small fortune had been given up.
"Excellent," the sebenth year exclaimed. He turned around to leave. The others started to follow.
"When's the party then?" Draco asked.
Flint looked back at him. "Oh, you're not invited."
Draco felt his jaw drop.
As the door shut, Crabbe said, "So when's the party?"
"Shut up Crabbe," Draco said, cheeks flushed. Turning around, he caught Theo Nott's eye. The smaller boy smirked knowingly. Draco kicked the end of his bed.
END
718/30 = 24 points!
Carmen//Ravenclaw//24 points
Summary: On his first night at Hogwarts Draco learns exactly how ruthless his housemates can be.
Characters/Pairings: Draco
Genre: Gen
Rating/Warnings: G
Medium: Fic
Word Count: 718
"You see, the thing is, lads, there's a bit of a tradition here at Hogwatrs where you first years are concerned."
Draco stared at the seventh year Slytherin peering down at the aseembled first year boys. He had entered the dormitory only a few moments before along with a number of other older syidents interrupting the new boys as they aboided getting ready for bed on their first night away from home. Amongdt them Draco recognised Marcus Flint and Adrian Pucey. The latter had talked to him on the train that morning, immediately recognising him as Lucius Malfoy's son. In Fraco's opinion they had hit it off famously, much as he had suspected that they would. Pucey was old blood, and more than that his father had known Draco's for many years. Pucey was also supposed to be one of the smarter students in his year, and Draco had seen the way that the girls looked at him. While he was not exactly sure why that was such a good thing (only knowing that it must be), Draco recognised that it was something to be admired. Right now Pucey was looking at him in a sly, cunning way that could only spell trouble.
"What tradition?" Crabbe asked stupidly. His eyes were wide. Draco figured that someone must have knocked what intelligcen was left out of him long ago.
"I'm glad you asked," the seventh year said. His name was Appleby or Appleworth, or something else involving fruit. "The more knowledgeable, promising among you, will know that the first day of the Hongwarts school year is Salazar Slyyhrin's birthday,."
Draco frowned, even as Theo Nott snorted. This was not something that he had heard of before, but he was not about to admit his ignorance on the matter. In fact he thought that his mother had once told him that SLytherin had been born in Spring, but perhaps his mother had been wrong.
"It is?" Crabbe again. Draco wondered how anyone so stupid had managed to make it into SLyutherin. They had grown up together, but Crabbe's best asset as far as Draco was concerned was his loyalty, and that should have placed him in Hufflepuff.
Another nod from the seventh year. "And as first years you need to help us celebrate. And to do that, you need to cough up on Galleon a piece either now or in instalments over the course of the year. It doesn't matter which."
"And how precisely does that help us celebrate Slytherin's birthday?" Nott asked.
Draco wished he would shut up as well. He was astonished that he would want to display his ignorance like this. It did not matter that Draco had not heard of this tradition, either, or that his father had not mentioned it to him eiyer/. It had to be real. They would not dare lie to him, and besides, his father had warned him that the odler students like to have a bit of fun.
Adrian Pucey grinned at him.
"Well it helps to pay for refreshments of course."
There were murmurs from among the first years, and no one moved to dig out the small bags of coins Drraco was sure they had all tuckjed away in their sock draws. Looking around, Draco realised that he was going to have to make the first move. He would have to lead by example. It was only natural really.
Digging around in his pocket, he came up with a small handful of coins, and began to sort through them. There was a variety there - part of the allowance his mother had given him. From the stack he plucked two shiny Galleons and held them out. "Get a little something extra on me," he said.
The seventh year smirked. "Why thank you. Malfoy, isn't it?"
"Draco malfoy."
"Well, thanks for the contribution. What abaout the rest of you?"
Slowly, one by one, the first years began to cough up their contributions. Until a small fortune had been given up.
"Excellent," the sebenth year exclaimed. He turned around to leave. The others started to follow.
"When's the party then?" Draco asked.
Flint looked back at him. "Oh, you're not invited."
Draco felt his jaw drop.
As the door shut, Crabbe said, "So when's the party?"
"Shut up Crabbe," Draco said, cheeks flushed. Turning around, he caught Theo Nott's eye. The smaller boy smirked knowingly. Draco kicked the end of his bed.
END
718/30 = 24 points!
Carmen//Ravenclaw//24 points