"Slytherin!"
Hermione staggered off the dais, stunned.
Why did it have to be Slytherin? Slytherin was almost as bad as...as Hufflepuff. Every book she'd read warned of scheming and plotting pure-bloods who would probably kill her as soon as she walked into their dormitory.
Numbly, she heard a couple of boos from what had been her chosen house, Gryffindor.
Two thuggish sort of first years stood on their bench and cheered with fists in the air as a thin pale boy who looked as though he would catch at the first open window was sorted into Slytherin as well.

She barely moved the entire meal, even through Dumbledore's speech. When they were dismissed, a burly prefect named Marcus Flint ushered the first years out of the Great Hall. As he walked, Flint started a brusque speech.

"Welcome to Hogwarts, and Slytherin. Any half bloods? Yes? Good. Make friends with the purebloods. They can help you learn our traditions and rules. Politics in our circles bleed into everything. Dinners, dances, conversations in the shops, everywhere. Best start learning now. That goes for all of you in fact, not just half bloods. "
Hermione shoved towards the front of the group, intending to inform the business-like prefect of her blood status, but he continued without stopping. There were castle rules, tips, and tricks that apparently other houses didn't inform their first years of. Best pay attention, prefect Flint said. "You're in Slytherin now. You will be responsible for upholding our name, and working to add to the list of Slytherin Greats one day, which means knowing when to be the picture of decorum and when to...flaunt your triumphs. " He eyeballed the two boys from the table who had cheered, but didn't say anything.

Hogwarts, A History had said a little about each common room, and Hermione knew that Ravenclaw and Gryffindor occupied the towers, but it only became clear where the Slytherin commons where once Flint had led them through the false wall. It was a dungeon. Classy, beautiful, similar to a mansion parlour, but still a dungeon that seemed to be under a lake, considering the floor-to-ceiling windows of an underwater view.

"Hogwarts has rules and frankly you're all smart enough to figure them out, so all I'll say is that if you are caught breaking rules, you deserve what you get. That said," he raised an eyebrow at them, "Here, we won't sell you out. Slytherin is your family now, and you never betray family, you understand?" Hermione felt rather intimidated, especially when he told them to remember that their age was not an excuse for much and that it was best to not give the teachers 'any extra reason to suspect you'. Hermione felt slightly confused by that. Had she already given them some reason to suspect her? That simply wouldn't do at all.
"The other houses are probably telling their first years to make inter-house friends, but for you lot it's mostly a waste of time-"
"You can if you want to!" Someone yelled.

"Oh because it worked out so well last time with those Ravenclaws eh?!" Another student said sarcastically. Flint snickered a little, then turned back to his charges. "As I was saying, it's essentially pointless, trying to make inter-house friends for us. The other houses typically don't look too kindly on us, and it is not seemly for Slytherins to be seen begging and throwing themselves at people merely for the sake of new friends. We must be seen as a united front."

Hermione nodded vaguely and turned away to observe her new home.
Set in underground dungeons as she'd noticed, there was a warm fireplace crackling away, with torches and lamps on the walls. One whole side was a giant window from the lake she had crossed where fish and magical creatures swam past and gave the room a flowing greenish hue.
There was a second level balcony around the rim of the room, with bookcases and comfy chairs and tables spread across it while downstairs there were musical instruments, some art supplies, more couches and chaise lounges, and several shelves filled with little bottles and vials of potions, each neatly labeled in a wide variety of handwriting. Curious, she stepped towards it.
"Healing potions. Father says it's foolish to trust some half-train mediwitch considering the standards at this school. He's trying to fix that of course, but in the meanwhile, the better potion students brew these themselves. They're unregulated, so we don't need the whole school seeing us in hospital unless it's really bad. "
It was the pale boy, who had been cheered on at his sorting. He looked and sounded quite smug, Hermione decided.
"Who are you?" She asked somewhat rudely. Not on purpose of course, but if he was the Heir for one of the better known families, it was possible she'd read about them and let it never be said Hermione didn't gather information.
"I'm Draco, Draco Malfoy. I don't think I recognise you?" His brow furrowed a bit, voice going a little softer than the aggressive and cocky tone he used in public.
"Hermione Granger. "
"Ah half blood then. " he nodded, eyebrows raised. Inwardly, Hermione cringed and braced herself. "Er, no...I'm muggle born" In a bit of defiance at his likely rejection, Hermione stuck her chin out and held her head high.
Draco looked stunned. "How'd you get into Slytherin then? There hasn't been one of your kind in over a century! Is it some trick?"

Hermione couldn't help but snort at that. "Hardly. I don't know any magic, how could it be a trick? And that was very rude of you," she said primly. Evidently the boy felt confused as to what to do because be dragged her over to the prefect now laughing with his friends and dumped Hermione there. "Flint she's a muggleborn!"

Hermione hated the way the laughter slid off their faces. She hated seeing their expressions change, hated seeing how their opinion went from 'just another firstie' to such racism. Flint looked her over, then said slowly. "Is he right? Are you a muggleborn?"

"Yes." said Hermione. "But it can't have been a trick like he said because I don't know any magic aside from the spells in our schoolbooks and couldn't have done anything, right?" she glanced between the older students worriedly. This was where they tossed her out, where the headmaster expelled her from Hogwarts because her house wouldn't accept her, where the only place she might fit in was suddenly refusing to let her try.

Flint looked at her again, then yelled for a few more friends. To Hermione, it looked as though the entire sixth and seventh years had gathered to decide her fate.

"She's a muggleborn."

"Oi Flint is that all you came to tell us? Robert was setting up the poker tournament!" said one girl.

"Yeah honestly." said another boy. "Who cares? Just don't tell anyone, boom problem solved."

One of Flint's friends regarded Hermione for a moment, brow furrowed. "You say you know the spells in your schoolbooks?"

What kind of question was that, Hermione wondered. "Yes of course I do."

"You're smart, you'll work hard and get good grades?" said another girl. "What I mean is, you won't be lazing about slacking on your schoolwork and you'll learn about the wizarding world?"

Hermione sighed in relief. Well, if that was all they were asking of her, it would be easy! She'd always been the top of her class anyways. "I, yes of course!"

Flint turned back to Draco. "Well there you go. She's Slytherin first and foremost now, and you're no better than a Gryffindor if you ostracise her. Now shoo."

Hermione gulped and back away in relief, then ran to find her dorm room and sank onto her bed in relief. A strange sort of laugh bubbled up, and soon Hermione was giggling.

"Err, you're Hermione? What exactly are you doing?" A blonde girl stood at the foot of her bed with an eyebrow raised as if to protest something dirty at her feet. Hermione glanced at the girl, and snickered once more. "Yes sorry. I'm Hermione. And you are…?"

The blonde held out a hand, smiling slightly. "I'm Daphne Greengrass. They say you're a muggleborn, is it true?"

"Yes unfortunately. And you're a pureblood?" Daphne preened a little and nodded. "My family is one of the Sacred Twenty Eight in fact. We're one of the richest and oldest families in Britain. Not as old as the Blacks of course," she added hastily, "But certainly still up there. So what's it like being raised by muggles?"

Hermione stiffened slightly. Her parents were more than just muggles, especially considering what a low opinion wizards had for muggles. "It's fine I suppose. I love my family dearly of course, but the other children at school were frankly rather rude."

Daphne shrugged a little. "You're muggleborn, and Slytherin. I hope you're used to rude because when the other houses find out about you they'll treat you even worse than usual."

That night as Hermione lay in her bed watching the creatures swim around and listening to her roommates' breathing, she thought over her first day. If the Slytherins were rather...sly and willing to break the rules but strangely strict on anyone who was caught, she decided to not mention it to her parents yet. And she could only hope the prejudice wasn't near so bad as Daphne and the others had predicted.

Hey so I recently went back and reread this and was cringing at the wording and grammar and stuff so I guess I'm trying to beta my own stuff since I'm not sure how to find one to do it for me. But you can't really salvage poor writing without some heavy changes anyways so it's good I'm doing this.

Anyways, I know the prefect used to be Warrington, but I was doing research for some other chapters and realised that he's only two years above Hermione and so this makes about zero sense. Meanwhile as far as I can find, Marcus Flint is about perfect timewise, especially since he may have had to retake a year letting the headmaster choose him as prefect in the hopes of getting him to be responsable. Hopefully I'll be able to drudge through the next chapters too, so if you tried this story once and ditched it because it was about the level of a sixth grader, well, hopefully this is a little better.