It was a quiet, peaceful, morning that greeted me this day.
I'd woken up on time, with no hints of sleep deprivation. Fixed up my appearance successfully with the first cast of a spell, and didn't accidentally burn the borrowed (James's) wand. And even better, I was grateful to note that James Potter was already up himself.
Meaning I wouldn't have to forcefully wake him up-
"I freakin knew it!" James echoed out as he stuck his face inside the room, the rest of his body hidden behind the door connecting to the small bathroom meant for freshening ourselves up for the day ahead.
It was looking up to be a very good day-
"What are you doing?" James Potter deadpanned as he finished fixing up his hair, for some reason, and walked back into the dorm room itself.
I tilted my head, my gaze switching between the boy and (stolen) charms book in my hand.
"Getting ready for class?"
"It's a Saturday." The boy deadpanned. "We don't have any classes."
I blinked once, furrowed my brows, and let out a more relieved sigh before throwing the book onto Pettigrew's bed. Waking the boy up in the process as it hit his head.
"Guess I don't need that."
"Our charms lessons are on Thursday, you know?"
I shrugged and promptly walked past the bemused Gryffindor.
...
Walking towards the Slytherin table, I idly snatched up a newspaper from a disgruntled snake and took a seat beside him.
James Potter blinked once as he stared at me, the Gryffindor table behind him and then back to me again, before shrugging as he took the other free seat beside Snape.
"This isn't the Gryffindor table," Snape remarked with a sigh, his gaze locked onto the front page of the Daily Prophet I'd stolen.
"So?"
"..."
James Potter snorted as he promptly took one of the cherry-flavored snacks on the table before us. The boy doing as good a job as me in ignoring all the accusatory stares sent towards us. "I think Snape means that we shouldn't be sitting here."
"Sue me."
"Even my family doesn't have the resources for that."
Honestly, I've been here long enough to know that the house tables didn't actually matter much. As far as I was concerned it was Dumbledores way of trying to tell us where we could and couldn't sit. And if I didn't listen to my psychotic parents, I sure as hell wasn't going to listen to a quack in a hat.
For some reason, every stare sent towards us immediately disappeared, as every witch and wizard beside us found their attention captured elsewhere. A veritable storm of uncomfortableness filling the air around us.
"Professor Dumbledore isn't a quack." James Potter pointed out defensively. "He can hear you, you know that?" Snape added on in a worried whisper, a single hand raised up to cover part of his face.
I raised an eyebrow at that and turned towards the dais at the front of the hall, finding a set of unamused professors and one very amused headmaster.
"What up quack!" I grinned as I called out.
Snape made to jab me with an elbow, only to miss as I leaned myself back.
"You're going to make Gryffindor lose points." James Potter sighed, shaking his head. "Again."
"Don't know what you're talking about. That clearly came from the Slytherin table." I grinned, watching as a look of amusement took over the other's face.
Snape, on noticing that, promptly covered Jame's mouth as he shoved a treacle tart onto his mouth the moment he made to speak out as well.
A single snort of laughter echoed out down the length of the table from the seventh-year side. While the rest of the hall settled for mutterings filled with disbelief.
Of course, even if none of the snakes from our year or the ones above seemed to have the balls to say anything- the sound of grinding teeth quickly put the thoughts back inside my head- I couldn't say the same about the blonde bimbo who'd elected to stand up and walk towards us, particularly, me.
I held back the urge to laugh at the increasingly obvious anger filtering through her face with every step she took before she was suddenly standing right behind me.
I finished reading the Daily Prophet excerpt on the latest laws giving Werewolves much more rights than before, before calmly and slowly turning around to face her, finding her in a death-staring contest with James- Annnd he just gave up and quickly scampered to the Gryffindor table.
The wuss.
"Hello?" I questioned, idly raising a single eyebrow at the fifth year.
"Sirius-"
"Stranger."
I smiled at the sudden twitch on her expression.
"For the hundredth time. I am yourcousin." She remarked grinding teeth, as she reached into one of her robe pockets.
"Not with that hair." I snorted.
"How original." She drawled.
"You know what is original Cissy?" I grinned, watching as the blonde promptly let out a sigh, grabbed something out of her pocket and shoved it before my face. "A Black without style."
"Ha. Ha. Ha." She stated, pure utter derision in her voice as she dropped the letter into my lap and turned around on her feet.
"Hey, Cissy!" I called out after her, earning a groan from the blonde as she turned her gaze back towards me.
I promptly threw the piece of bacon towards her, watching as she stared at it almost blankly for a moment before a vein almost seemed to pop on her forehead.
"Wha-"
"Mother said, I should always feed the Owls." I lied.
"..." Her palm visibly shook as she closed it. "Open. That. In. Private." She stated passively, grinding her teeth at me again.
Black's believed in reading hate mail in private, after all.
If she kept that grinding up, Kreacher was going to have better-looking teeth than her by her twenties.
I made the right decision in not pointing that out.
Turning my attention towards the bulging, visibly moving letter, I snorted at the sign in the front of it.
Grandfather's sent me a howler!
This ought to be good.
Needless to say, I promptly turned towards Snape and asked to borrow his wand.
"...What's a howler?" Snape questioned curiously, having ignored everything else so far.
"The Black Families only form of communication." I deadpanned.
The same seventh year let out another snort of laughter at the words.
Andromeda seems to be in a really good mood lately.
"...What do you need my wand for?" Snape followed on, his gaze locked onto the shaking letter.
"I have a ritual for these sort of things," I shrugged, idly waving the letter around.
Certainly curious enough, and having so far accepted the fact I just didn't have a wand to use myself, Snape obliged me and handed over his wand.
I promptly set off a self-made spell and directed the howler to go off flying elsewhere.
"You might wanna let that cool off for a minute," I remarked idly placing the wand on the table, watching as smoke appeared the moment it touched the table.
Judging by the look on Snape's face, I don't think he planned on letting me use it ever again.
Looking around everywhere else, I was a little surprised to see some of the wary expressions surrounding me at my antics.
Hell, even some of the professors looked downright confused.
"Where'd you send it off to?" Snape questioned easily, indifferent to the reactions.
"Bellatrix."
"...Who?"
"An actually insane cousin of mine."
If anyone actually needed a talking to for bad behavior from grandfather BlackeDick, it was definitely Bellatrix. Frankly I'd send it back to him himself but he'd never open it, not after last year's Christmas party.
Judging by the various new expressions, I have a feeling I may have said that out loud.
"...I know I am going to regret asking but-"
"I paid a werewolf to sneak in through our family home's chimney in the middle of Grandfather's toast."
It was entirely political.
Fenrir Greyback never forgave me for it.
Mostly because he never actually left that party alive, but potato, potato, what are you gonna do?
"Father loved it." I added on half-mindedly.
Snape, after a moment of seeming clarity, promptly picked up his cooled wand and walked off towards the Gryffindor table.
I blinked once, shrugged, and turned to my left and got another, second year? Slytherin into a conversati-
Annnnd he just got up and followed in Snape's footsteps.
Wow.
Talk about rude.
It took a few moments after that before Andromeda willfully joined me at my side of the table, a protesting and clearly annoyed Narcissa with her.
"That's what you get for driving off my friend." I immediately deadpanned to the irate blonde, taking a bite of the infamous treacle tart.
"...Duly noted." She grouched, crossing her arm before she sat down and turned towards her sister. "We're even."
Andromeda rolled her eyes. "Not on your life, Cissy."