Slytherin was her blood. Her inheritance. Her fate. Her identity.
When Adelaide Giselle Rosier stepped onto the train of Hogwarts Express her mother had made sure to remind the girl of such once more.
She was a Rosier. Part of one of the greatest and most noble pureblood families, part of the sacred twenty-eight because they could trace their lines far enough back to proof that they were pure. Truly pure. Not just claim that they were. Her family had the history, the wealth, even the shame of a true pureblood. For they fought until the bitter end, they fought and lost and were condemned for fighting for their blood, their purity, their sacrality.
Slytherin was just another part of that. Just another milestone to reach. Another task to check off, like the lists of tasks that Adelaide checked off on a daily base to appease her parents. To keep them from yelling, from disappointment, from anything. Slytherin was just another part of that. Not a house. Not a potential network. Neither a home, or an identity. A task. One that was currently sitting at the top of her list.
When her brother was sorted into Slytherin the family had broken into celebration. In their old ancestral estate they celebrated the continuation of the family line, their pride, and the tradition. Adelaide remembered feeling relieved, even happy for her brother. Though the feelings never went beyond that, nor understanding. It was just another milestone to reach. Another task to complete.
Her sister being sorted into Slytherin had the family in glee. Honour was returning to their house, so her parents claimed. Her brother was by that time a Slytherin prefect. Pride and honour was to return with the new generation of Rosier doing so well. Adelaide couldn’t see it. Again only relief took her, but she didn’t understand, or share the sentiment.
The day she sat down in the train, waiting to depart for her first day of Hogwarts her mother came to her. A smile of confidence and pride played around her painted lips. Her air unusually warm and glimmering.
“You, Adelaide shall be my magnus opus. Our return to the top.”
Those were heavy words for an eleven years old. A duty Adelaide felt unwilling to carry. No words were said, however. Answers only served to upset her mother, and her mother was of fragile mind when things don't go her way.
“Remember your blood. Remember your duty. Remember our tradition.”
Those were her last words before Adelaide was left alone. Alone in the cabin, a long ride from home towards the next milestone. Just another task until the next one would come.
“Adelaide Rosier!”
The voice of the headmistress was stern when her name was summoned. The banquet went quiet as the students recognised the name. Another Rosier, one of the disgraced ones, part of the rising ones. Her siblings had made good names for themselves. Her brother a headboy by now, her sister a prefect. Surely the youngest would proof to be just as great?
When the hat was placed upon her head Adelaide closed her eyes. Blocking out the whispers, ignoring the burning stares, focusing on the hat.
“Slytherin?”
A voice whispered and Adelaide took in a deep breath.
“No,” the voice breathed once more in her mind, contemplating in a hum.
“No, there is no ambition in you. Pressed out off you by the weight of tradition.”
Adelaide felt her heart jump at that, a choke crawling up and tears burning behind her closed eyelids. She wondered why. Why did those words touch her so?
“You dislike it, never would have chosen it yourself,” the hat continued in her mind. Adelaide vehemently wanted to deny it, but her heart sung another song and she bit down her lip for she knew the truth.
“Indeed, as I thought.”
One last hum escaped the hat before it finally hollered its answer;
“RAVENCLAW!”
The room was stunned, Slytherin was silenced. Their confident smiles disappeared as eyes turned towards the older Rosiers. Adelaide would never know the expression her siblings had carried. Afraid as she was for their reaction, their rejection.
Ravenclaw rose, hands clapping, and cheers rising. They had acquired someone valuable. A breaker of forms and norms. They could see it. She had proven herself to be so already, and more.
“A mind like yours is wasted anywhere else,” the hat told Adelaide before slipping off her head and allowing her to leave. Adelaide’s feet have never felt so light as she embraced her new house, welcoming herself into the colours blue and bronze.
Slytherin was her blood.
Ravenclaw was where she belonged.
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