(: !CHAPPY NUMERO UNO! :)

The Sorting

A/N: I am very, very, truly sorry if this horrible. This is my first story, so don't be too harsh or flame! I know I've got my weak spots, but practice makes perfect, right? So basically, this story is about a blood traitor werewolf by the name of Xena Sharma and she is abused by her Uncle, Sanjay Sharma, whom she lives with. She is in her first year and best friends with the trio. This is follows the first year almost exactly, but the years after will have a lot more variation. Please read and review and tell me how I do! I would really appreciate some constructive criticism, I do want to improve. I do not own the any characters, J.K. Rowling does. I only own Xena, Sanjay, and any other OC's I may choose to make. Okay, long author's note done! Here we go!

~Third Person POV~

Whispers swam through the crowd of students assembled at fours tables.

"THE Harry Potter?"

"I hope he's in our house…"

"Maybe he's a good finder; he could be in Hufflepuff…"

"Can you see his scar?"

"I heard he grew up with muggles."

"What do you think he's like?"

Students mumbled things like this to one another, all the while keeping their eyes trained on the young first year, Harry Potter.

Harry nervously walked up to the stool and sat down. Professor McGonagall placed the Sorting Hat on his head. After a few moments of decision, the scruffy hat declared Harry's new house.

"Gryffindor!" it shouted. The skinny boy removed the hat and hurried over to the mass of cheering red and gold. After the Boy-Who-Lived had been sorted most of the students were beginning to let their hunger get the best of them and zone out. The S's were starting and Professor McGonagall was calling out names.

"Sharma, Xena!"

Everyone's attention snapped to the front of the hall. She wasn't famous, not much at least. The hall was simply baffled. Xena had been declared dead four years ago. The whispers flared up once again.

"Isn't she supposed to be dead?"

"Yeah, it was in the Daily Prophet!"

"Bloody hell, she's come back from the dead!"

"Is she a zombie?"

"Inferi!"

Like with Harry Potter, the murmurs didn't ceased when Xena made her way up. She was quite pretty girl. Her dark brown, nearly black hair falling a few inches above the small of her back, and her chocolaty brown eyes showed one thing- a radiant happiness. Xena's dark olive colored skin looked smooth, though there were two very evident scars on her left cheek. The scars looked like two parallel gashes; one couldn't help but wonder their cause. She wore the usual plain black robes for unsorted first years, but her feet were encased in a pair of worn combat boots. Xena was quite short, only standing at four feet ten inches.

She plopped herself on the stool and allowed Professor McGonagall to place the ancient accessory on her head. The hat slipped over her eyes, plunging her into darkness.

~Xena's POV~

I'm beyond happy right now- me, a werewolf, a monster, finally being able to fulfill my dream of attending Hogwarts, being with other kids. Plus, I don't have to go through any more of my uncle's abuse. None more experimenting on me, hitting me, or cursing me- for the time being at least. He's still making me come home (if you can call it that) for Christmas, Easter, and summer holidays. Those times will probably be worse than ever, but who cares, I'm actually here! Hell to the yeah!

"Very happy to be here, I see, Little Miss Lycanthropy," the hat whispered in my ear. I seized up. If it tells anyone, I'm out. Dumbledore knows, but parents won't be too thrilled.

"Don't worry, I won't tell, student/hat confidentiality, you know. Truth be told, you aren't the first werewolf I've sorted."

I relaxed a bit.

"Let's see here, cunning, sly enough to keep your secrets… but I don't sense Slytherin, a bit too forgiving and kind. You're very loyal, but too fiery and temperamental for Hufflepuff. I do believe the dyslexia will prevent you from excelling in Ravenclaw, as well as your short attention span," the hat mused.

"Wait, are you calling me stupid?" I hissed at it, affronted.

"Just a bit," the hat said. I huffed indignantly

"I see courage… lots and lots of courage, though you've need it due to the horrors you have faced… You have a special role in this world, remember that. I believe I have made my decision, Miss. Sharma," the hat said.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

I took off the hat and made my way to the Gryffindor table. A pair of ginger twins were chanting, "The zombie's a Gryffindor! Whoo hoo!'

My mood darkened a little after hearing that. The pureblood bigots I was born to fed the story of my tragic death to the ministry, which they published straight away, right after they sent me from California to Britain with my 'Uncle Sanjay'. I was eight at the time. They didn't want a 'filthy half-breed endangering' them or my little brother. They were going to disown me, but said something about experiments. I didn't understand then, but I do now. The only thing I regret is never saying a proper goodbye to Jay, my brother. He was only four when I was sent away. He was so innocent, so sweet, so defenseless. I hope my parents haven't corrupted him… I really miss him.

I snapped out of my brooding when I saw Harry Potter scoot over to make room for me. I thanked him and sat down.

"I thought you were dead!" a ginger sitting next to him exclaimed loudly. The entire table eagerly turned to listen. I felt a spark of annoyance but pushed it away.

"Nice to see their little ruse worked," I said bitterly. Oops. I guess I didn't push the annoyance away entirely.

"What do you mean?" a boy with a round face and buckteeth asked.

"I'd rather not go into it," I replied shortly. The boy blushed and looked away.

"Hello, I'm Fred and he's George," one of the twins from before said. 'Fred' jerked his thumb at 'George'.

"Me thinks you're trying to trick me," I said suspiciously.

"What? Why would you think that?" 'George' asked, assuming an air of fake hurt.

"I feel it in my bones…"

They raised a doubtful eyebrow. What? I have instincts too, rather sharp ones at that.

"Fine, Fred is stitched on your robes."

"Aw, you're too smart for out little prank!" the real George exclaimed.

"I know. But it's okay. It's hard for most people to be as awesome as me. I'm so awesome, it should be illegal," I gloated, wearing a smirk.

"Yes, the awesomeness is radiating off you in waves," Fred chuckled.

"It's okay! You two have placed pretty high on my awesome meters!" I reassured them playfully. It was just then that I noticed a boy with startling green eyes and chalkboard black hair watching me and the twins curiously. I blinked before sticking out my hand.

"Xena Sharma."

He seemed to be stunned I wanted to talk to him, but after a few seconds he took my outstretched hand.

"Harry Potter.

I smiled.

"You gonna eat that?"

"No, do you want it?"

"Nah, I'm good."

"Then why did you ask?"

"Well, it led to this conversation."

"You have nice hair."

"What the hell?"

"Well it led to a conversation," Harry grinned.

We kept up our conversation all through the feast apart from when Dumbledore was speaking. The first time was him just saying random words. Merlin, Dumbledore is boss. The second time was really weird. He warned us to stay away from the third floor corridor unless we want to die.

Other than that cryptic message, this was the best night I've had in years. No Cruciatus Curse, no beatings, just a normal night. That is really sad… No! I refuse to wallow in self pity.

My thoughts were unbroken until I got to my dorm.

"Hi, I'm Parvati and this is Lavender," a girl said. She had a slightly darker skin tone than me, a long black plait hanging down her back, and dark eyes holding happiness and warmth. Lavender had curly dark blond hair, blue eyes, and a pale complexion. They looked like girly girls, but they seemed like the good kind. The kind that will help you with boys, get you ready for dates, that sort of stuff.

"And I'm Hermione," said another girl. Her bushy hair was a warm brown color, just like her eyes. Her front teeth were a bit large, but somehow, she managed to pull it off. Judging from the giant book already placed on her bedside table, she was a bit of a bookworm.

"Xena," I said with a smile. Hermione yawned, making Parvati yawn, which sent Lavender into a yawn, which made yawn too. We all burst into mad giggles.

"Well, muggles were right, yawns are contagious," Lavender said.

"Stay away from me! You've got the yawn!" I exclaimed. They laughed again.

"Yeah, we'll I'm tired, see you in the morning," I said. I changed into my pajamas and closed the hangings. Sinking into the soft mattress, I reflected on the night.

I've met a lot of nice people today. I'm not sure if I trust them, but maybe one day I will. You don't come out of the hellhole I grew up in without any mental scars. Physical scars were mostly from werewolf-ness. My uncle preferred spells that left no physical scars… that people would see. I still had a hard time trusting people.

I heaved a sigh and shut my eyes.

Just go to sleep, I thought to myself.