Categories > Books > Harry Potter

The Untold Hufflepuff

by HPismyforte 0 reviews

The Untold Hufflepuff: New and Improved! A Malfoy the wrong house.

Category: Harry Potter - Rating: PG-13 - Genres: Romance,Sci-fi - Characters: Blaise Zabini,Draco,Ernie - Warnings: [!!!] [?] - Published: 2022-04-14 - 3317 words

A/N Hey all! I know it’s been a while. But I’ve rewritten a past story from when I was young and innocent, which is unlikely. Anyway, here it is, new and improved. Please read and review! Let me know what you think!

The Untold Hufflepuff

This was the day. I was finally going to Hogwarts. Waiting for eleven years had finally paid off. Not that I waited quietly, I mused. I turned away from the mirror and examined my room. For eleven years, I had lived here day in and day out. Now? I would be leaving it every year and only returning for the summer. The room was one of the lesser grand rooms in the house. I had chosen dark blue drapes that completely blocked the sunlight. My bed was also done in dark blue. A mahogany nightstand stood by my bed. It held up a lamb and the newest book I had chosen to read.

A desk stood in the corner of my room, covered in paper and broken quills. I wasn’t the cleanest person, I thought with a small smile. The floors were polished oak. The mirror stood straight across from the bed. I had done the whole room in simple tones, wanting comfort over elegance. But somehow, with my mother in charge of decorating, it had ended up with both. I thought of this as an achievement. To exude elegance? I couldn’t have comfort. To have comfort? Elegance becomes a far-off dream. Either way, I like the room and would have been happy to live there for the rest of my life. But some things change for the better.

“Bellatrix! Come!” I smiled one more time to the mirror and then took the stairs two at a time. When I hit the floor, Mother was staring at me with Father behind her, looking disapprovingly at the wall. I couldn’t imagine why. Nothing was there besides dust and the mantle. And, I thought with sudden understanding, the passageway of the servants.

“A lady does not run. Or bound down the stairs. I hope you do not keep this up at Hogwarts. Draco’s in the family room. Come,” Mother said with a frown and a soothing voice. How such a voice can pull off such a tone is something I’ll never understand. I pouted but followed. You see, I’m a Malfoy. And Malfoy’s upholds the family honour.

When we get into the family room, Draco is there, as expected. Draco is a perfect Malfoy. His hair is a fair blonde, his eyes a sharp grey, and his demeanour at all times elegant. I’m different and always have been. I have black hair, for one. I wear it short so it barely brushes my shoulders. It cut choppily, which Father constantly disapproves of. But Mother insisted that if I was going for short hair, it had to be done stylishly. So it was. For two, my eyes are very dark brown. In fact, I look just like my namesake. I don’t mind.

Either way, Father grabbed Draco’s arm and Mother grabbed mine. With a loud popping noise, we disappeared. The sensation of apparating is sickening to most, but I always found it fun. The bending and warping through space? It was fun. Like a rollercoaster, really. As the tunnel seemed to end, we appeared in the bathroom at King’s Cross. The place was busy. A black-haired boy was looking bewildered; probably a muggle- I mean a mudblood. See? I can’t even say the right things.

I rolled my eyes at myself and continued my search. A huge red-headed family rushed by, chatting about muggles. I sighed and assumed a bored look, as was befitting my station. Judging by the condition of their robes and the vivid hair, I labelled them Weasley’s. Counting them, I tried to put a name to each of them. There was Percy. According to Father’s friends’ kids, he was the Gryffindor prefect. Annoying, too. The next was… The twins. Fred and… George? Something like that. Anyway, they were the trouble-makes, again in Gryffindor. Supposedly, they were always pranking others.

The younger two, I didn’t know. The only girl was holding on to her mother and begging to go to Hogwarts. I smiled slightly, understanding the yearning. Father tugged me with him as we headed casually towards Platform Ten and Nine. I felt a strange light feeling as I started leaning, again casually, against the wall. The last thing I heard from the muggle word was, “Mommy, look! They’re disappearing!”

Coming out on Platform Nine and Three Quarters, I took hold of my trunk and my owl, who I had affectionately named Mistletoe since she loved the plant so much. Mother kissed my head and murmured in my ear, “Owl us, dear.”

I smiled at her, unconcerned. “I will. You’ll see Missy in no time.” Grinning, I headed for the scarlet train, Draco on my heels. I tried not to feel bad that, even though I wouldn’t see them for a couple of months, Father couldn’t even be bothered to say goodbye. Draco helped me load my belongings onto the train before turning to me, clearly full of excitement.

“I’m heading to Crabbe and Goyle. Wanna come?”

I closed my eyes in defence. Crabbe and Goyle were goons who’d taken to following Draco around and fighting his battles. Me? I took self-defence classes after I got tired of ballet. It had made me walk like a dancer and had gotten rid of my clumsiness, which was why I’d taken it in general. But after I surpassed my ballet teachers, I’d given it up and adopted self-defence instead. I’d beaten the teachers there, too. But I didn’t mind. Each fight was exhilarating. And I loved to learn. “No thanks,” I replied with a guarded face. He smirked, which both he and I knew was our version of a sibling smile, and walked away.

With a quick eye, I slipped into a compartment without checking if anyone was sitting there. I suppose I made a mistake doing that, as I could have been “contaminated with mudbloods”. But honestly, they’re not a disease. It’s ridiculous to treat them as such.

“Hello. Who’re you?” I glanced up. My musings had been interrupted by a boy about my age. His skin was the colour of chocolate and his hair even darker. His eyes were a softer brown, almost toffee like. I sent him a quick smile.

“I’m-” Here, I stopped. I’d always been Bellatrix but that was a mouthful and it was a widely known name. I’d prefer an easier nickname. Adopting a kind smile, I changed my answer. “Belle. I’m Belle.”

“Belle, huh?” he replied. “I’m Blaise.”

I bit my lip, trying to recall where I’d heard the name before. My musings were interrupted once more, which was becoming a horrible habit, when the compartment door opened.

“Er… Can we come in?” I looked up to see who ‘we’ were. It was a Weasley and the black-haired boy from before. Blaise moved next to me to make room and waved his hand, indicating that they could.

“I’m Harry,” the black-haired boy said. “This is Ron.”

I grinned. Ron Weasley, I thought. “I’m Belle,” I said, extending my hand which was immediately gripped and shaken. “This is-”

Blaise interrupted me. “I’m Blaise. And, er, I’m supposed to ask if you’re purebloods.”

“Why does it matter?” Ron asked as he and Harry took a seat.

Almost in sync with Ron, Harry posed his own question. “What’s purebloods?”

Without stopping to think, I answered every question. “Blaise, yes. Ron, it doesn’t to you, but it does for our families. It matters who we associate ourselves with. Harry, purebloods are a type of lineage. Pureblooded means you come from an all-wizard family. Half-blood means you come from a wizard family and a muggle. Muggle-borns are those born from muggles. And squibs,” I added as an after-thought, “are those who are born from magic but hold no power.”

They just stared at me. “What?” I asked, curious.

“You’re gonna be a Ravenclaw if you’re not Slytherin,” Blaise said, admirably.

I pouted. The Malfoy house elves had said the same.

“What’s wrong?” Harry asked.

“I’m supposed to be in Slytherin.” Harry shot me a confused look, so I sighed and explained. “The houses at Hogwarts. You get stored into different houses when you arrive.”

“What are they?” he asked, clearly wanting to know more.

“Slytherin. That’s for the ambitious and cunning and sly. They’re mostly purebloods with the odd half-blood thrown in. No muggleborn is ever sorted there. Then there’s Gryffindor. They’re brave and kind of reckless. That’s where all of the Weasley’s have been. Hufflepuff’s are known as the proud and loyal ones, but mostly everyone views them as weak and too nice for their own good. Then there’s Ravenclaw. They’re the smart ones and the intelligent ones.”

“Bet I’m in Hufflepuff,” Harry said with a sad frown.

I shook my head. “Nah. You’re a Gryffindor or a Slytherin.” I gestured to Ron. “He’s a Hufflepuff or a Gryffindor. Most likely a Gryffindor. And Blaise and I are Slytherin’s. It’s in the family,” I said by way of explanation.

“Are you a Runcorn?” Blaise asked, giving into curiosity. “Crabbe? Goyle?”

I sighed. “Oh, please. Don’t.”

Blaise grinned and waited.

“Malfoy. I’m a Malfoy.”

Ron blinked. “A-a-a M-m-malfoy? Wh-wh-what? You-you’re family are pureblood s-s-supremacists. If you so much as t-t-touch m-m-me I’ll-I’ll-”

I smirked. “You’ll what? Stammar at me?” He shook his head and looked ready to pass out. “Look, I get it,” I said, with some annoyance. “My parents and brother can be pretty horrible to mud- I mean muggleborns. I’m not. Okay?”

He nodded but still glanced at me, suspicious. Harry opened his mouth. I cut him off with an explanation. “My family is a pureblooded family with a reputation for bullying muggles and muggle-borns. They worked for the Dark Lord.” He blinked. “You-Know-Who,” I amended. He nodded with understanding, but still looked confused. I put it off and moved the topic to a lighter discussion of Wizard cards, which required another explanation and another confused look.

A few minutes later, our compartment door opened. A bushy haired girl stood in the doorway, seeming full to the brim of questions. “Hello,” she said, “I’m Hermione. Hermione Granger. I’m wondering if you’ve seen a toad? A boy named Neville has lost his. Oh, you’re Harry Potter. I’ve read all the books about you. Amazing, how you survived. And you’d be a Malfoy. Your brother needs to work on his manners. I’m a muggle-born, by the way.”

I blinked. “Ravenclaw.”

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t talking about houses. So, have you seen a toad?”

I blinked again. “No. Ravenclaw.” She stared at me weirdly and walked away. I turned to the boys. “Ravenclaw.” They nodded, understanding.

“Firs’ years! Firs’ years over ‘ere.” I searched for the source of the voice when someone grabbed me.

“Bellatrix, come on.” It was Draco. I followed, tearing my hand out of his grip. Blaise followed me but we’d lost Ron and Harry. Draco wore a serious expression and pointed to two huge boys with bulging muscles. “This is Crabbe and Goyle.” I nodded to them and they stared. “This is Theo,” he continued, this time pointing to a scrawny boy with brown hair. I grinned.

“This is Blaise,” I said. He shook Draco’s hand.

“How come you called her Bellatrix?” Blaise asked.

“That’s her name. Bellatrix,” Draco replied, looking at me strangely.

Blaise shook his head. “She said her name was Belle.” Draco raised an eyebrow and shrugged.

We followed the man who’d been making the noise, whose name (according to Draco) is Scumbag Muggle-lover Hagrid. A quipped that it must be a mouthful for his wife. Draco had looked completely put-out at the suggestion that Hagrid had a wife. When we got to the boats, Draco joined Crabbe, Goyle, and Theo in one boat while Blaise and I and two kids who introduced themselves as Tracey Davis and Lisa Turpin got into another one. We floated across the lake until we reached shore and were introduced to Professor McGonagall who took us into another hall. I pretty much passed this with a blur.

When she reappeared after informing the hall that we were ready, she returned and led us into the Great Hall. I could clearly see why it had been titled great. Floating candles, a ceiling that (according to Hermione) was charmed to look like outside, and a weary looking hat that Professor McGonagall placed on a stool. It opened it’s mouth, to my surprise, and began to sing.

Oh, you may not think I’m pretty.
But don’t judge on what you see.
I’ll eat myself if you can find
A smarter hat than me.
You can keep your bowlers black,
Your top hats sleek and tall.
For I’m the Hogwarts Sorting Hat
And I can cap them all.
There’s nothing hidden inside your head
The Sorting Hat can’t see
So, try me on and I will tell you
Where you ought to be.
You might belong to Gryffindor,
Where dwell the brave at heart.
Their daring, nerve, and chivalry
Set Gryffindor’s apart.
You might belong in Hufflepuff
Where they are just and loyal.
Those patient Hufflepuff’s are true
And unafraid of toil.
Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw
If you've a steady mind
Where those of wit and learning
Will always find their kind.
Or perhaps in Slytherin
You’ll make your real friends.
Those cunning folk use any means
To achieve their ends.
So, put me on! Don’t be afraid!
And don’t get in a flap!
You’re in safe hands (though I have none)
For I’m a Thinking Cap!

I blinked at the hat and briefly wondered if the Sorting Hat spent all year and summer long coming up with the next lines. When it was my turn to be sorted, since I basically ignored everyone else's sorting before me, I stepped up to the stool and put on the hat.

“A strange one,” he whispered in my mind, almost making me jump off the seat. “Yes, you have brains. Much like your mother... Easy to place, she was. But pride, oh pride, like your father. A bit more difficult. Ravenclaw or Gryffindor seem like your choices.”

“Please, please put me in Slytherin,” I whispered with all my might.

“Oh, but Belle, that is not where you belong. No, no, but the loyalty. Yes, that outshines everything else. And something to prove. What do you have to prove? Ah, well… I know. HUFFLEPUFF!” I blinked in surprise and numbly removed the hat and headed for the table. No one spoke to me so I turned up at the line, forcing myself to ignore the light clapping that went on. Draco watched me with a slightly hurt expression. I turned away.

When I woke the next morning, a group of girls were standing by my bed. As soon as they saw me awake, they began.

“I’m Hannah Abbott. This is Susan Bones, Sally-Anne Perks, and Sally Smith. That’s Megan Bones. She refused to come. We just wanted to say that if you mess with us, we're gonna get you. Okay?”

“What?” I muttered, barely conscious.

“No wonder you didn’t get Ravenclaw,” she sighed.

“I won’t mess with you,” I said with a snap, my temper reaching up. “You don’t like me. I don’t care. Simple. So piss off.” Abbott gaped but Smith smirked. Abbott only turned on her heel and stomped away, followed by Perks and Bones.

“Er… I’m Sally.” Sally bit her lip.

“Belle. How come Abbott hates me?”

“Oh, Hannah? I mean, ah, Abbott? And the others would be…” she stumbled before remembering their full names, “Perks and Bones.” I nodded and she smirked. “And you would be Malfoy.”

I shook my head. “Belle.”

She laughed and gestured for me to get up. While I was getting dressed, the other girl came over.

“Hi. I-I-I-I’m M-m-m-megan. Megan Jones.”

“Nice to meet you, Megan Jones,” I said. “How come you didn’t accompany Abbott and her gang?”

Megan gulped. “Well, they said that if you refused, they were gonna jinx you. I didn’t want to look stupid since I don’t know any jinxes.”

I grinned. “As good a reason as any. You want to know one?”

She nodded eagerly.

I took out my wand and focused on her owl. “You mind?”

“No. Lattie isn’t that good. He’s fifty years old.”

I readied myself. “Stupefy!” He fell backwards and laid on the ground, unmoving.

“Is he dead?” Megan asked. I shook my head and her face fell. “Dang.” Both I and Sally burst into laughter.

“C’mon,” Sally said, heading for the door, “let’s go to breakfast.”

When we got to the great hall, we sat at the edge of the Hufflepuff table. Megan wondered aloud, “Who are those boys?” I smirked and, pointing, told her.

“Kevin Entwhistle. He’s a few brains short of a brain. That’s Justin Finch-Fletchley. He’s a muggleborn. Wayne Hopkins, who’s the biggest ego you’ll ever see. Ernie Macmillan. He’s nice. Roger Malone, Hopkins’ half-blood half-brother.” They stared. “I know a lot of gossip.” They nodded at my explanation.

“Ernie’s cute,” Megan said. I stared at her in surprise.

“No, Wayne is cute,” Sally insisted. I stared at her in much the same way.

“Owls,” Abbott called out. Sure enough, when I looked up, owls were coming in. Mistletoe landed in front of me and dunked her head in my soup, drank, and flew away. I shrugged and opened the letter she’d brought.


I’m happy to see you got into Hufflepuff. Slytherin isn’t that good. Are you happy? I hope you’re not getting a lot of slack for being a Malfoy. I wish I could be there to see you. It took a lot to be able to send this letter, so the next one won’t come soon. Have fun and learn lots.

A relative

The handwriting was familiar even though I’ve never seen it. It was choppy and precise.

I opened the box to find chocolate frogs and another letter.


We are doing all we can to fix this mistake. Meanwhile, keep your head down. Don’t draw attention to yourself. Give me time to fix this. Your Mother sent the chocolate. Enjoy. And don’t make friends with mudbloods.


“Hello, ladies.” I glanced up to see Blaise and grinned at him. He sat next to me, immediately causing whispers to break out among the other students.

“Hello, Blaise. Megan, Sally, this is Blaise. Blaise, this is Megan Jones and Sally Smith.” They greeted each other while I wrote back.


Who are you? All of my relatives live rather close. A bit too close for comfort. My sorting is getting fixed. Father’s moving me to Slytherin. I suppose that makes you happy? Anyway, it’s Belle. Not Bellatrix.



I will do as you ask. Thank you for fixing it for me.


I handed out the chocolate frogs and we cheered to our first day at Hogwarts. However it might last.
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