Rejected Sociality

In the years prior to the Second Wizarding War, there was a girl growing up at Hogwarts that didn't have anything to do with Harry Potter. She was a Slytherin, in the same year as the Weasley twins and Lee Jordan. Though she was Slytherin, she wasn't evil or a bully like some. Olivia Floyd was ambitious, clever, cautious, but also disabled.


4. Chapter 3

 I rolled down the stairs and went over towards the Slytherin table. I sat at the edge, which was the only place that accommodated the wheelchair. A majority of the Slytherins were staring down at me from the other sides of the table. A girl my age came down from the other side of the table and sat down by me. She stuck out her hand and said, "Hi! My name's Jessica Gardener, you're Olivia, right?"

 I blushed and nodded. The stares from across the table reached me quickly, but I tried to ignore them and pay attention to the rest of the Sorting. For some reason most of the other Slytherin fifth years were kinda mean lookin', but they were all really nice. The girls were very helpful (as they talked to me during supper), they just looked scary because they have sharp eyeliner and glittery contour. 

 Though they were nice, I couldn't help but be scared, not of Slytherin, but of all the people. I looked crossed the tables to the Gryffindors, where George was looking to the Hufflepuff table, Fred was looking to the Ravenclaw table, and Lee stopped talking to some other Gryffindors and scanned the Slytherin table. 

 After a few seconds, his brown eyes found me, and he smirked at me. I could tell that my face was a bright red. I looked down and continued eating my food. 

 The rest of supper passed quickly, quick enough for my liking. They released us, and Jessica offered to push me, but I declined, tapping my wheelchair to magically avoid the bumpy stairs. We passed many staircases, and soon the chill of the underground champers reached my skin. The Slytherin Prefect said, "The password to get into the Slytherin Dungeons is 'disregard'. Please don't forget it, or we won't let you in."

 The door swung open, revealing an underground dungeon lit with green lighting. The chairs and couches circling the fireplaces were a black color-leather maybe. Behind the fireplaces was an enclosed lake (there was a squid swimming behind it, but I'll leave that be). The chair place was in the middle of this room, and over on the far side of the room were tables and chairs, presumably for studying. Up on most of the left wall were balconies, fourteen on each side, a large door on the floor in between them, and staircases (ug) leading upwards. There were people sitting in the chair place, talking and laughing, some in the study place quietly whispering, and a few on the balcony enjoying themselves.

 The Prefect stood in front of us and said, "Welcome to Slytherin House! My name is Vanna, one of the six prefects of Slytherin House. On my left is the fireplace area, where anything is acceptable. I warn you, anything. If you don't like that kind of stuff, you can go to the study area behind me. There are a list of people on the announcements board in the study area of people who will tutor you and their hours. On my right are the dormitories. There are the staircases through the large door, girls on right, boys on left. Everybody in the dorms get their own rooms, but you can ask the walls to appear or remove themselves if you wish. Make yourselves at home, and don't let us down." As she finished she walked over to the fireplace area, joining the loud group.

 I rolled over to the dormitory stairs, enchanting my wheels again. I went up one flight to find the fifth year girls' dormitory listing, including my name. I rolled into the room with my name on it, and surprisingly, it was wheelchair accessible. There was a fourposter bed with green hangings and a bedside table, a wooden closet with deep drawers and a hanging space for clothes, a book shelf that had a pull out table, and a small vanity. 

 I hung up my clothes, using the simple spells mom had taught me to help. 'Even though you have a disability,' she would say, 'doesn't mean that you can't have abilities.' My mom was a witch, but my dad is a muggle that works in a pharmacy. 

 I put my books on the book shelves, floating them up there. I moved my little bottles and flasks of potion ingredients and my cauldron one one of the shelves. I moved my anxiety meds to the vanity, along with the little make-up I own, any other accessories I have acquired over the years, and a bunch of trinkets I have: little animal figurines, tiny succulent plants (my kinda green thumb), small plaques, shells, and mason jars stuffed with art supplies.

 I changed into my pjs, looking out of the tiny window. I wasn't looking into the air, though, it was the water. I pressed my hand to the green-tinted glass, and a little fish swam past it. I smiled to myself, and my little kitten peeked out from underneath the bed. Comet, her name was. I floated myself into the bed, covering myself up with the emerald blanket. I set my glasses on the bedside table, and Comet laid onto my unfeeling legs. I soon fell asleep. 

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