Dark Hogwarts

They say we're not normal,

How is it that the earth is carrying us out?

Loneliness is nothing but torment,

We are in danger.

***

POV by Tracy Davis.

Tracy's first lessons flew by unnoticed. Everything turned out to be much easier and simpler than the guys had feared at first. No surprises, no incidents of graduation in the hospital wing. The usual, moderately harsh activities, from which she even somehow got used to during the summer holidays.

During lunch, the Slytherins were already chattering about joining clubs soon.

"Do you think we should wear something formal?" Or go in school robes? What did that fourth-year student say? The restless Pansy Parkinson bombarded Daphne with questions as soon as they sat down at the table.

"I kind of miss the times when we didn't talk. I didn't have to listen to her endless chatter all day long," Tracy thought.

"This isn't some kind of party, Pansy. Formal outfits are designed for special occasions. If they had to be worn to every more or less significant meeting, they would not be called official, but everyday. Turn on your head, of course we'll go in school uniform, like everyone else," Daphne snorted pejoratively, thereby shaming Pansy for asking questions.

There was such an unpleasant trait in her best friend. Even with close acquaintance and good relationships, Daphne could humiliate almost any person at any moment if she did not consider him an equal or an authority. All that was needed was an excuse, which willy-nilly each person in the conversation will provide in full — whether he wants it or not.

Tracy, however, was rarely affected by this. She and Daphne had known each other from an early age, and over the years the girl had learned to understand when to keep silent, so as not to expose herself as an ignoramus in the eyes of her friend. It was a matter of habit now, that's all.

— Yes, I didn't think of that... Pansy averted her eyes from Daphne, showing with her whole appearance that the girl's words had seriously offended her.

— It's not surprising. You should spend less time on thoughtless chatter, so that you don't end up looking like a fool in front of undergraduates. Don't thank me," Daphne replied casually, although she could see Pansy's reaction perfectly well.

Sometimes it seemed to Tracy that her friend got pleasure when she managed to hurt someone. But the girl did not dare to develop this idea, afraid to come to conclusions from which it is worth staying away. At least in her situation.

— Still, it's a pity that you two didn't manage to join the Sorority with us... Daphne suddenly changed the subject, pretending to sigh.

There were six girls in the second year of the Slytherin faculty. Tracy herself, Daphne, Pansy and Millicent received invitations to the coveted club for all students. Ella Wilkins was named to the Quidditch team for her deft handling of the bat and good coordination in the air while on a broomstick. And here's Morag MacDougal... It was different with her.

A beautiful, brave and equally sharp girl was for Daphne the real thorn in the course. Communication between them did not go well right away, and so far Morag was the only one of them who could afford to criticize or even ridicule her friend. Tracy was even a little jealous of the girl's courage in this regard.

But the jokes with Daphne Greengrass turned out to be bad. If in the first year her friend had only talked about her extensive connections among the students of Hogwarts of the more senior courses, now her words were fully confirmed by the action: in just last night she managed to exchange greeting phrases with a dozen undergraduates Tracy did not know.

And, as it turned out, Daphne used her acquaintances with might and main to screw up her rival and deprive her of an invitation to a Sorority, leaving her to settle for a pathetic, according to Greengrass, Club of Researchers.

She herself did not hide it much, almost openly mocking the loser through such seemingly innocent words.

Morag looked at Daphne contemptuously, but decided not to say anything, so as not to get into an argument in the middle of the Great Hall. Moreover, the other girls, despite the quirks of their classmate, preferred to be friends with her rather than feud. Which would have put McDougal in the minority in the event of another conflict, and the seniors might have noticed their altercation, and then everything could have ended much worse for her.

— And I like Quidditch, — said the modest Ella Wilkins, wanting to dispel the maturing toxicity between Daphne and Morag, — it's a pity, of course, that you can't be in two clubs at the same time, but there's nothing you can do about it. And Marcus told me that this is one of the most honorable clubs in the school...

"Did he happen to tell you why?" Daphne smiled venomously. — Maybe it's the merciless training? Well, or I don't know... In matches where you can get a dozen injuries at a time? Ella, Ella... — she made a compassionate grimace, — I hope they will be able to help you before your broken body stops functioning. We believe in you, don't we, girls? The girl blinked and looked at the other second—year slytherins.

"And before, she was more restrained... Is Daphne that worried? Or is she so confident in the support of senior students that she is ready to throw mud at each of us?"

"How disgusting you are,— Morag muttered, then got up from the table, took the hand of a sad Ella in an instant and went with her to the exit.

"What did I say?" Daphne exclaimed, "Poor Morag... Probably worried about being separated from us," she added in a lower voice, addressing the remaining girls, "because everyone knows that the girls of our club are not friends with outcasts. Well, now the four of us will have to spend time together.

It seemed to Tracy that Pansy sighed bitterly to her left.

The boys also heard their conversations, but none of them was in a hurry to interfere in the girls' squabbles. Each of the guys already knew what it was like to be the enemy of Daphne Greengrass. So the male part wisely distanced itself from the female.

"Maybe it's for the best. But it's safer to distribute Daphne's poison among many people. Otherwise, the dose may be too high at some point, and the consequences will be disastrous..." - a good comparison came to Tracy's mind. Of course, she did not voice it.

In the remaining two classes, her friend's antics faded into the background. Nevertheless, during the lessons, you should forget any quarrels, get them out of your head for a while and fully engage in the workflow, if you do not want to earn painful problems for yourself because of soaring in the clouds.

But now the last lessons for today were over, and they, four slytherins led by Daphne, went to the second floor — to the dwelling of the so-called Women's Club.

Tracy had heard about the club itself in her freshman year. It was hard to ignore the older girls talking about him, and Daphne shared information with her from time to time.

— Everyone knows from an early age that Hogwarts is a pretty dangerous place. And if the boys here rely on their strength, then the girls rely on each other," a friend told her one evening a year ago, "They monitor the safety of all participants, protect them from harassment by boys and seniors, and also help even people like you, Tracy, look neat and decent. And the annual ball... Oh, you and I will definitely join this club next year, and in senior years I will become its head, you'll see...

"Yeah, my friend never seemed to suffer from self-esteem problems. Well, I've never been seriously offended by her words. I'm used to it, probably..."

Together with them, girls from other faculties came to the cherished study. Lavender was from Gryffindor with her friend Parvati, Lisa Turpin and Parvati's twin Padma were from Ravenclaw, and Susan Bones and Hannah Abbott pulled up from Hufflepuff.

"There are a couple from each faculty," Daphne whispered to her, "we'll put them in their place quickly," she shared her Napoleonic plans.

Of the twenty-four girls from their course, only ten enrolled in the Sorority. Tracy knew perfectly well that her friend would treat everyone else from now on as if they were just dirt under her feet. She will either bend those who join the club under her, or eventually get out of the club. That's her nature.

When all the sophomores were assembled, the older girls let them in, and then each of the new girls leaned her wand against a special artifact.

— Only those who have been authorized will be able to enter here. This is our refuge from any adversity, so make yourself at home here," one of the undergraduates shared with a smile.

The room was neat and expertly furnished with sofas, mirrors and tables, at which the members of the Sorority sat. On the walls there were all kinds of paintings with cute animals and fashionistas of the past. Where there were no paintings, the stone was decorated with various trinkets, creating a pleasant atmosphere with its melodious sounds.

There were just an indecent amount of magical cosmetics in numerous bedside tables near the walls, which the girls used with might and main. Someone was braiding each other's pigtails, someone was putting on a marathon in front of the mirror, and some groups were sitting and drinking tea with cakes that came from nowhere.

"How great it is here!" thought Tracy admiringly, when the other girls quickly got to know them and dragged them away on a variety of girlish business.

Today, according to the head of the Women's Club, was a festive day, so all they had to do today was enjoy spending time in such a wonderful place. During the year, the club had a whole schedule, the lion's part of which was occupied by preparations for the annual ball, which this club personally arranged.

Sophomores joined the local team with might and main, got acquainted with the girls of both their faculties and others. There was no difference whether you were a badger, a snake or a crow. Even their Slytherin company was told by one of the Gryffindor undergraduates to contact other students in case of problems. Even though it turned out later that this was another friend of Daphne's, such concern for their safety was new to the girls, which is why it was so pleasant.

It was impossible not to notice how Daphne was most actively gaining credibility with the undergraduates with her knowledge of the fashion world, suggestions about outfits or jewelry, and gossip she knew from nowhere. In this case, the rest of the sophomores were far behind, because while they were perceived here as younger sisters, her friend managed in some insignificant time, if not to become equal undergraduates, then quite close to it.

"She got so carried away that she seems to have completely forgotten about her best friend," Tracy thought sadly.

And as soon as this thought slipped through her mind, Daphne waved her hand at the girl:

— Tracy, come here! This is my best friend, Tracy Davis. Tracey is Charlene, Juliana and Martha. Fourth-year students and my new good friends.

She came up, greeted everyone and even managed to chat with new people who were very friendly to her. But then Daphne spoke again:

— Tracy and I have known each other for many years, since her father works for mine. We knew from childhood that we would enroll in the same course, so even then we became good friends," Daphne shared the story of their acquaintance with the others, while Tracy was silent.

"Yes, but it was so long ago... A new home, a new girlfriend, a father..."

— And we decided, no matter what, to enroll in the same faculty and spend the whole study together. Well, how are we, actually... I decided that Tracy would listen to me in everything," Daphne finished her monologue.

"What do you mean, he'll listen?" — one of the fourth-year students asked a question. Martha, I think.

"Didn't I tell you?" — Daphne made a surprised expression on her face, - There was some kind of story between our fathers, well, it just so happened that Tracy... She signed a contract with me.

It was as if she had been electrocuted, and the fourth-year students opened their mouths in surprise, after which they looked at the girl who was stunned by shock in a completely different way.

— Counter-act... — One of them drawled, — School?

— No, of course, we were still very young then, — Daphne grinned. — Extended and unlimited in time. My father says that such a contract runs along the very edge of legality, which is why it is the best. So Tracy and I are going to have a long and interesting life. Isn't that right, Tracy? Daphne looked carelessly into her eyes.

"What kind of person lurks in them? Who is standing in front of me right now and why don't I recognize him?" she mused, being prostrated.

Daphne rarely used the possibilities of the contract, since Tracey had been used to unquestioningly indulging almost any of her wishes since childhood. And until that very day, Daphne had not told a single living soul at school about the contract, keeping their secret and thereby arousing strong appreciation from the girl. Until this very moment.

— Tracy, why don't you say something — I asked you a question. Answer me," Daphne emphasized her demand, tapping into the magical power of their bonded contract.

- yes...

—Too quiet," Daphne chuckled, —answer louder and with a happy face!"

The corners of the girl's lips crept up, even though moisture began to accumulate in her eye:

— Yes, Daphne. You're right—we have a very long and very interesting life ahead of us together," Tracy replied with a smile on her face.

"This is the end. The whole school will know about the contract in less than a day. Now every student will know that I am a slave. That I'm... just a toy in the hands of another girl... For what, Daphne? Why did you do that?!" — Tracy's thoughts raced in her head as she stood and smiled stupidly at the amusement of the girls.

Someone will call it naive to consider your master as your best friend at the same time. Now Tracy Davis thinks so too.

***

POV Neville Longbottom.

Neville realized that the Book Club was not a particularly prestigious place already at the moment when only three students from his course followed him to the library. Two ravenclaw girls — Emma Wayne and Mandy Brocklehurst, and the Hufflepuff Zachariah Smith is an unpleasant boy who can call him no worse than the Slytherin brothers.

"As if it's my fault that something doesn't work out for me in class... It's not a reason to insult and mock!", — Neville sometimes resented the actions of some classmates.

But quietly, to myself.Preferably in those moments when there was no one nearby who could theoretically be hostile towards him. And, to the boy's great regret, such moments almost always ended when leaving the Gryffindor living room.

— Hi guys, — he greeted them, wanting to show politeness and friendliness towards future teammates.

In response, the girls just giggled about something among themselves and settled down against the opposite wall.

—Damn it, you're here too," said Zachariah Smith, annoyed, "this world clearly wants the worst for me.

Neville didn't understand what the badger classmate meant, but even if he did, he probably wouldn't have dared to answer him.

"If Harry or Kyle were here, they would certainly put him in his place... But they're at other clubs now... Eh, why couldn't we all spend time together like before? It's all unfair..."

The door of the office next to the library opened slightly, and the sonorous voice of some senior student sounded from there:

— So, are all the new arrivals here? Come in.

The guys found themselves in an ordinary-looking classroom, which was just littered with all sorts of books and textbooks. Some of them had a very stunted appearance, literally falling apart. Others were covered with cobwebs and a good layer of dust. Still others were smeared with something.

When the sophomores examined the room, they were again addressed by a senior from the club:

— We all understand perfectly well that you are not here out of a craving for books. Our club does not shine with a good reputation compared to the rest, nor interesting activities. But! — the senior student raised his index finger up with an intelligent look, — We are a club, and this means something in the castle. Your duties will include helping Madame Pins with library books in the near future, and you will provide it here, three times a week. Through that door," the guy pointed to the passage on the other side of the classroom, "you are forbidden to enter until you get permission from the head of the club, who will visit you soon. And now — sit down at your desks and put the damaged books in proper shape: get rid of dust, dirt, take out bookmarks from books and everything that will be there. Carefully stack the torn copies separately, since you have not yet been trained in the Reparo spell, which means you will not be able to do anything with them. Any questions?

Emma Wayne immediately raised her hand.

- yes.

"But we don't know the cleansing spell either. What should we do? — the confused girl asked a question.

— And how do you get rid of dirt on your clothes? From the dust in your room? Work with your hands, my hands," he pronounced in syllables, as if considering them mentally retarded. — The rags are over there, you can fill the bucket in the bathroom on this floor. Run away or you'll be free — you can say goodbye to the club. Let's see how long you can last without it. Stick to the routine — then we'll get to know each other properly. All right, let's get to work. And don't make any noise, because people outside the door are actually doing things no less important than yours.

The guy left, leaving four sophomores in the middle of a horde of books. The guys stood for a while longer, looked at the classroom and everything in it properly, and then went to get water and started working. Well, Neville went to the bathroom, of course, since both the girls and Smith voted unanimously for him.

"Everything is so dusty, sticky, disgusting... Phew! Why is there no club associated with Traumology?.. After all, digging in the ground, I at least feel this terrible feeling of disgust," Neville wrinkled his face, reluctantly starting an unpleasant job.

The other guys also began to sort through the books, superficially removing everything superfluous from them and piling them on top of each other. They put the damaged folios on a remote desk, as the senior told them.

When Neville looked at the results of the other students, he came to the disappointing conclusion that his stack was growing much slower than the others. The girls worked together, and Zachariah didn't seem to feel any disgust at all, scrubbing the dirt off the books with a phenomenal speed for Neville.

After about half an hour, the door where they were forbidden to enter opened, and another, previously unknown senior came in. And if the first one looked like he was fourteen or fifteen years old, then now it was immediately clear - to present the seventh, or at least the sixth year, in front of them.

"This must be the head of the club we were warned about,— Neville thought.

— Well, newcomers. How's the work going? — the guy began to walk from desk to desk like a teacher and inspect the result. — Is this a cleared book? Then why is there a piece of parchment sticking out of it? Didn't you see it? So you need to be more careful, girls! — He raised his voice at Emma and Mandy, while they looked sullenly at the floor, — So, what's your name? Zachariah Smith, then. Well, you're doing well, I'll take a note of you. Diligence and diligence are immediately visible.

When the senior began to approach Neville's desk, Neville's knees involuntarily shook.

— Yeah. Let me guess— you're Neville Longbottom, right? Not surprising. Tell me, Neville— why is there a puddle next to your place?

—I-I-I-spilled it, I probably don't know,— he replied, stuttering.

— Oh, I spilled it... Don't you know that if you spill something, you need to clean it up? No? Show me the cleaned books. So little? And what is it?! Why are the roots dirty? How did you wipe them! The senior suddenly swung his arm and gave Neville a savory slap on the back of the head.

The boy felt dizzy from such a strong blow.

— I knew inviting you was a bad idea. What are you doing here, Longbottom? You're a jerk... How did you manage to survive the first year? I suppose he hid behind your celebrity's back?

"I went down the hatch. I didn't get scared. He fell, but he didn't get scared. I'm not a coward!" Neville convinced himself, even though he was trembling all over in front of the formidable senior.

— Are you silent? Well, be quiet. It's lucky that your grandmother put in a good word with mine, which is why you're sitting here. If it were up to me, I would let you go on all fours and set the timer for your demise. Although, if you do your duties so casually, I will do so — remember my words.

Neville nodded shallowly, and then, with shaking hands, began to scrub the spines of books in his small stack.

— Less water! Do you want to wet the parchment and completely ruin a valuable thing? Be careful! — a senior student spurred him on, which did not help at all, but on the contrary, made the process even more stretched and difficult.

Apparently, the head himself understood this, which is why he soon left their company, so Neville breathed a sigh of relief and continued to do the routine.

So an hour passed, and then the second. Neville got the hang of cleaning the books properly, and then remembered that they still needed to be checked from the inside for foreign objects between the pages. So, he found a dozen different kinds of bookmarks, a maple leaf, a parchment with an essay in which the ink had faded and, it is unclear where it came from, a very rare four-leaf clover.

— Wow! It's a Wish Fulfillment! Mandy exclaimed when she saw his find, —Dried up, really... Well, never mind, you try to make a wish - suddenly it will come true," she said with a smile, which made Neville involuntarily smile back.

"Is it really so difficult for everyone else to treat me like this — like a human being? It's not difficult at all," he thought sadly.

Desire. Neville carefully took the clover in his hand and clenched his fist, rubbing four withered leaves in his palm — this is exactly what his grandmother taught him to do, since the magical properties of such a clover were known to everyone. True, it should have been fresh and picked quite recently, but Neville hoped that even in this state the clover would work.

However, it was only after the pieces of the dried plant were completely erased in his hand that the boy realized that he still had not come up with the desire itself, and time was running out!

"Well, well, well... I wish... I wish... Find a friend! Such that you can experience all the hardships together — and in no other way!" — Neville said in his head, closing his eyes for some reason.

And strangely enough, very soon this wish could come true.

***

POV by Sophie Roper

"To find out that you weren't invited to any of the clubs was insulting and quite unpleasant. To find out later that only the cowardly Finch-Fletchley and the mute Lily Moon were losers like you was terribly embarrassing and even somehow embarrassing. But at the end of the lessons, it was really scary to learn from one of the girls from the third year that students without a club have a very, very hard time from everyone else.".

That's exactly how Sophie felt when absolutely all the other Ravenclaw boys her age went to the clubs they had been invited to in the morning.

Hogwarts began to empty rapidly. In the first year, the girl did not notice this, although maybe she just did not attach any importance to it.

"Whether undergraduates walk the corridors or not, it didn't make any practical sense at that time. They ignored us anyway."

Two stray badgers set off towards the dungeons. Apparently, to sit out the lull in their burrows. And then Sophie realized that she was completely alone.

After thinking about it, the girl came to the conclusion that there were not three people like her, but still four. After all, Hermione was in the hospital wing, and the girl's reputation, as well as the incident that occurred at the Gryffindors, suggested that she had not received any invitations either.

During the lunch break, Sophie even went to visit her good friend, whom she began to consider her friend to some extent during the holidays. They got along well, spent a lot of time together in the summer, so she was worried about Hermione.

"Should I go and visit her again? There's nothing to do anyway, Sophie thought.

After calculating the pros and cons, she nodded to her thoughts and went to Madame Pomfrey's abode.However, the reception was closed, and the healer persistently turned the girl back.

"Well, then we'll have to go to the bedroom. I'll sit down at my textbooks until dinner and I don't need any clubs," she decided at the end.

Sophie, despite her persistent attempts to distance herself from the bitter truth, still couldn't get out of her head about the lack of invitations.

"But why? Why me? Because of academic performance? So she's my average. Maybe it's because I haven't made friends with my faculty? So I found other friends! Kyle, Jack, Hermione, Sally-Ann and all those with whom I overcame the difficulties of the trials! She didn't run away like this Finch-Fletchley, she didn't refuse, like Lily Moon and everyone else did... Then why was I treated so unfairly?!", the girl almost screamed into the emptiness of her own consciousness.

She didn't need an answer. Sophie just needed to blow off steam because of the unpleasant news.

"After dinner, I'll go to the Gryffindors and get the details from them. Who knows — maybe you can get into the club in some other way, or my invitation, at least one, got lost somewhere..."

Sophie definitely didn't want to feel like a black sheep in the Hogwarts team again. And the stories about "street kids", which were called students without a club, still made the girl shudder.

"What if it's true and I'm in danger in this position? It was last year that the upperclassmen were forbidden to touch us. And now — the hands of any bully are untied...".

So, in thoughts, doubts and tosses, Sophie overcame the usual route of moving stairs, climbing to the very top to her living room. No one moved on them, either from below or above, so for seven floors there was only one of her.

"What an unusual feeling. These places are always teeming with students, but now there is complete silence, broken only by the creaking of moving stairs..."

Suddenly, the staircase that Sophie was hovering on to the next flight seemed to go berserk, starting to move abruptly and chaotically in different directions.

"Well, no! On the first day of school?! Why would I do all this?!", the girl's mind flashed, while her hands clung to the railing with a reflex death grip, and only a ringing girlish squeal came from her mouth.

The staircase twisted from side to side, it rattled against all the walls in a row, and then it began to quickly descend several floors below, only to start climbing back in the same way!

"What the hell is this?! The stairs have never rebelled so much! Certainly in my memory! Just don't crash into another flight! Phew... Ah-ah-ah!".

The stairs have been behaving too inappropriately for too long. Sophie's throat was just tired of screaming. The girl's hands had time to stiffen from prolonged exertion, and she herself prayed to all the known and unknown gods that it would finally end.

When the furious flight changed its abrupt movements to smoother ones and eventually parked somewhere at the level of the fifth floor, the girl almost fell down the steps exhausted.

And then she got a second wind:

— Bastard, motherfucker, come here, you stair shit! What, you decided to roll me to death, but I'll roll you up myself, in all poses, stone shit!.. Sophie was furiously tapping her foot on the topmost step and letting out all the accumulated anger. The other leg, just in case, was positioned on a fixed platform. You never know — what if the stairs start to freak out again?

— I've never heard girls swear like that.

— And?! Sophie turned sharply and saw a boy on the other flight, who was just standing and watching her impulsive reaction without emotion.

"I say, I've never heard girls swear like that," he repeated the words word for word.

The girl was instantly embarrassed by her actions and would have blushed for sure if she hadn't been red from the tension from the beginning.

— I... this... Stairs and... Up, and then down... — Sophie tried to explain her situation to the senior, but she did it very badly.

"And he's handsome... Oh, it's a shame..."

— I'm Jason. Fourth year, Ravenclaw," he suddenly identified himself, maintaining the same indifferent expression on his face.

— Em.. I'm Sophie, from the second faculty... Oh, since sophomore year, yes... And the same faculty," she replied at random.

"Why haven't I seen him in the living room before?"

— I know. You didn't get an invitation to the club," Jason said, interrupting her thoughts in a different way.

Sophie frowned.:

— How do you know?

— Otherwise, you would be in one of the club rooms right now, and not kicking a step.

The boy was just brilliant at making Sophie blush with every phrase he said.

— Yes, you're right, I didn't think...

— It's not scary. Come with me," he replied, and headed for the corridor of the floor where they were now.

— Em... Jason, right? Why would I go with you? And where to? Sophie asked warily.

— You didn't get an invitation to the club. I decided to invite you to mine," he replied simply, pausing for a second and turning his head to her.

"Could it have been like that?!"

Sophie's eyes lit up:

— To the club? Seriously? And which one? — she shot at him with a burst of questions, simultaneously catching up with her new acquaintance.

— A special one. To the Director's Club," Jason said, continuing to walk down the corridor with his measured gait.

The end of the POV.