Chapter One

The boy-who-lived

Green eyes narrowed in annoyance. Could they not sense that their presence was unwanted? She was hardly trying to hide her sentiment. And after two years spent taunting her, their sudden interest in her person was suspicious at best. She tried to focus on the potion text sitting on her lap, but the constant parasite noise of their hushed discussion coming from the other side of the compartment was proving quite distracting. Henrietta scowled. This was her compartment. It had been so for the last two years, and the Golden Trio had at least respected that in the past. Sure, the Weasley boy thought it was his personal duty to inform her of the disappointment her parents would have felt had they been alive to see her. Apparently, death was a much more preferable fate in his mind than having to live through the pain of having a Slytherin daughter. The point being, he usually waited until they got to Hogwarts before starting to ruin her day by imposing his distasteful presence and bigotry. But it seemed that it was his best friend —the Boy-Who-Lived himself— that was forcing the cohabitation, if she was to go by the not-so-subtle glances he threw in her direction from time to time. She grew more annoyed still until she snapped.

"Do I have something on my face Longbottom, or have I suddenly become your muse?"

Longbottom seemed to physically recoil, surprised in having been caught in his examination.

"As if he would like a slimy snake like you!" Was the predictable answer of the Weasley lackey.

"There is no need to feel jealous Weasley, I'm not interested in your boyfriend. In truth, I'd much rather if you all left."

Ronald Weasley blushed to the tip of his ears, the angry red blotch clashing horribly with his orange hair. Thankfully, Harry was spared a response by the bossy know-it-all of Gryffindor.

"How was your summer Henrietta? Have you heard the news?"

Ah. So that was the reason for their invasion of privacy. They wanted to talk about her escapee, traitor of a godfather. Like hell.

"I don't remember giving you the permission to address me so familiarly Granger, so please refrain from doing so. And if this is about Sirius Black, I have nothing to tell you. Now, would you please leave my compartment?"

Annoyingly enough, Hermione Granger looked more outraged than chastised. How surprising.

"There is no need to be so crabby about it Potter" snapped Neville Longbottom, apparently fed up with her attitude. "They say he's after me, that he escaped to kill me to avenge his master. We figured with him betraying your family to Voldemort, it was better to warn you that he might be coming for you as well."

Harry resisted to the temptation of rolling her eyes.

"Yes, two birds in one stone and all that. Coming to that conclusion took me about two minutes, thank you. Now that you've done your Golden Boy duty, feel free to leave."

He clenched his teeth in anger, obviously unused to such treatment. People were usually delighted to be in his company. Well, expect for the Slytherin he supposed, and the raven-haired girl was certainly no exception to that rule, unfortunately. Neville let his eyes dance across her Elvin features before tearing his gaze away.

"You know, it would be better to stick together. Show a united front. And you could use a few friends too."

As Ronald turned green at the mere idea of befriending a snake, Harry was boiling inside. This group was one of the reasons why she had trouble reaching to her peers and he dared act as the sacrificing hero in front of her? The gall of that boy. She forced herself to calm down. Loosing her temper would not do her any good, that much she knew. Her first two years in the Slytherin dormitories had taught her that.

"I have enough trouble as it is, Longbottom. Cohorting with the Boy-Who-Lived would hardly bring me any favours."

At this, Neville threw her a sharp look and Henrietta realised she might have miscalculated. The point was for him to leave her alone, not show more interest! Could it be that he was… concerned? She sneered. Hopefully not, as she had no desire to be on the receiving end of his saving people thing, thank-you-very-much.

"In any case, I don't need or want your help. Now, for the last time, find yourselves your own compartment."

She added a cold look for effect, to which Longbottom frowned. He seemed a bit frustrated by the situation.

"Alright. Yeah, whatever, let's go guys."

Harry took a deep breath, glad to see the back of them at last. Giving the Slytherins another reason to despise her was not in her plan. She had finally reached a status quo in her Common Room last year and she was not about to mess it up this early in the year (certainly not for the insufferable trio anyway). Having her fellow snakes off her back made her life much easier, and even safer to an extent. They were hardly cold-blooded murderers of course —they were just kids really— but not having to watch her back for stinging or tripping hexes down the stairs was a relief. After having spent her first year as a pariah for her ignorance on Wizarding culture (and much of that time in the infirmary), she had vowed to become the best witch of her generation and prove these snobbish Purebloods wrong. After a while, they had grudgingly accepted her presence among them as it became undeniable that she was unmatched in terms of practical arts, and that even her understanding of the theory of magic was well beyond that of the majority of their peers. And if there was one thing that was respected in Slytherin, it was power (she remembered, like an echo "It would guide you on the way to Greatness"). She had devoted a lot of her time to overcome that blasted ("abnormal, undeserved" whispered a snide voice) ignorance; she could now confidently say that she was as knowledgeable as any half-blood ought to be.

She didn't mind being alone. In a sense, she wasn't really, surrounded by all her books as she was, and to be perfectly honest, she despised people. Muggles, she loathed particularly; the result of having to bear with the despicable treatment of her relatives, surely. In a corner of her mind, she knew that not all muggles were as bad as hers, but the others she had encountered in primary school had hardly raised her opinion of them. Neither the children, cruel in their mockery and seclusion of her, nor the adults, unhelpful and all-too-ready to turn a blind eye on her condition. No, she didn't like muggles anymore than these Pureblooded twats did, but that was not to say she had much more sympathy for the rest of the human specie. They were greedy, cruel and selfish. She was no exception of course, but she felt absolutely justified in her dislike of them. Her dreams of a new, utopian world had been crushed after her first week inside the walls of Hogwarts. And yet, she wouldn't change it for anything in the world. Magic was a blessing, the true beauty of this earth, and she intended to know everything there was to know about it, and if she ever reached that point, create some more. She looked out the window plane at the darkening sky. They would arrive at the castle soon.

Home, at last.