Chapitre 61: Chapter - 61 : The Slytherin Welcome
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Susan grinned at him. "Of course. Hufflepuff's by far the best house!"
"I'd have to say the same thing about Slytherin," Harry said. "House-pride and all that, you know. And everyone says Slytherins have the best parties."
"Good thing for you that you got in, then." Susan laughed and gestured towards Hannah. "As soon as Hannah was sorted into Hufflepuff I knew I wanted to be, too. We're best friends."
"And it's difficult to stay friends if you're in different Houses." Harry nodded. "Well you must have been a shoo-in for Hufflepuff after showing that sort of loyalty."
Susan smiled warmly at him. "Thanks."
Hannah leaned forwards and lowered her voice, casting a glance over at where Hermione was sitting still lost in her reading. "Is she really a muggleborn?"
"Yeah," Harry said cautiously, not having thought Hannah would care much about blood-status.
"And she's a Slytherin?"
"Yeah," Harry said again, chuckling this time. "Shocked everyone. I'm just glad I'm also in Slytherin – my family might have disowned me otherwise."
"I'm happy for you then," Hannah chirped. "We're actually related you know – fourth cousins three times removed or something like it."
Harry smiled at her. "Cool. Good to know. Hey Hermione, meet another one of my cousins!"
Hermione didn't bother looking up from her textbook. "Are all of you purebloods related to each other?" she asked while turning a page.
"Pretty much," Hannah said cheerfully.
Hermione made a face and muttered something uncomplimentary about inbreeding. Susan and Hannah looked ready to take offence at her tactless words, but Harry managed to smooth things over by explaining that Hermione had been having some difficulties with the more extreme Purebloods in Slytherin House. The two Hufflepuff girls quickly nodded and made sympathetic noises, and Hermione unbent enough to look up from her book and offer them a small smile and an apology. Even though most of her housemates seemed content to simply ignore her, the muggleborn witch was obviously finding it difficult being surrounded by people who looked down on her for something she was powerless to alter.
"Right then, chaps," Professor Sprout said, bustling into the open space in the middle of the greenhouse. "Welcome to Herbology! This class will be an obligatory part of your schooling for the next five years, though once you've taken your Ordinary Wizarding Levels you'll have the option of either continuing or dropping the subject. I very much hope that I'll be teaching all of you all the way until you leave school, but I find that very few students have a proper appreciation for my field of study. Still, maybe you'll surprise me, eh?"
Judging by the dubious or downright disdainful expressions on the faces of his fellow classmates, Harry guessed her hopes were unlikely to be fulfilled.
"Well I can't stand chit-chat so let's get to it shall we?" Professor Sprout clapped her dirt-stained hands together in enthusiasm. "This year we'll be working in Greenhouse One. That's where I keep the plants that aren't as territorial or aggressive as some of the others, but I thought I'd take you round the other greenhouses today as a bit of a treat! What do you say, fancy repotting a few Fanged Geraniums or pruning the Lugubrious Lilac Bush?"
There were some half-hearted murmurings of interest at this, though Harry got the impression that it was just the Hufflepuffs who wanted to support their Head of House. Herbology had never been one of the more popular subjects and Harry for one didn't see the appeal of plants that would attack you, try to eat you, or just generally harass you – behaviour that almost all magical plants seemed to delight in.
The students were ushered outside and over to Greenhouse Three, handed pruning shears, and cheerfully told not to wander too close to the Venemous Tentacula.
"Who wants to weed the Flitterbloom?" Sprout gestured for them to gather round a suspiciously docile looking plant. Harry had noticed years ago that the plants that appeared harmless were almost always the most dangerous and so made sure to stay near the back of the group.
"I can't believe we have to muck around in the dirt," Draco grumbled loudly. "When my father hears about this…"
"Hmph, you boy!" Sprout waved a trowel at the blond. "You can go first."
Draco wasn't defiant enough to refuse a direct order from a teacher. He reluctantly stepped forwards and used the trowel to poke around in the soil while leaning as far away as possible from the Flitterbloom's undulating leaves. For the rest of the lesson he was careful to not call any attention to himself and managed to avoid being required to do anything else for the whole two hour period. Harry, while not terribly fond of the subject, knew enough about Herbology to prevent himself being attacked by any of the more aggressive plants. The other students were not so fortunate, however, and by the time the lesson was finally over they were covered in bruises and painful looking scrapes, their robes askew and clumps of dirt stuck in their hair.
The Slytherin girls – including, to Harry's surprise, Hermione – hurried off to their dorm rooms, refusing to be seen by the rest of the school in such a dishevelled state. Blaise Zabini went with them, muttering something about his Italian designer robes being ruined and his mother being furious. Nott was the worst off, with a bleeding gash across his cheek and a rather dazed expression on his face, and had to be helped to the hospital wing by Crabbe and Goyle.
Harry and Draco waved them off, smug in their own unruffled condition, before aiming a few scourgify charms at their hands and clothes and wandering up to the Great Hall for lunch.
"Black, Malfoy, where are the rest of the first years?" Prefect Lionel Moon rounded on them as the two boys sat down at the Slytherin table.
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