Lydia Stone had not been at Hogwarts for long. It was her second week in the incredible castle, and her first year studying there. Lydia was what was classified as a 'late' witch. Her magical ability hadn't shown until she was twenty-two. The wonders of magic had always been what only existed in her dreams, and as much as she had loved the idea of it, she never thought anything of the kind was possible. She hoped that it was. And now here she was, a first-year student, with no magical knowledge or friends, taking first year classes with people almost ten years younger than her.
Luckily Dumbledore had offered for her to take private classes at night with some of the professors, but that wouldn't be until her second month there. He wanted her to settle in and 'make friends.'
Lydia soon discovered that being sorted into Slytherin wasn't the best thing, but it didn't really phase her.
Learning that most magic was conducted through the use of a wand surprised her; apparently it was some kind of conduit for one to project their magic through, but also granted a certain amount of power to a witch or wizard – that piqued her interest. It was definitely something she wanted to research. Her wand was made from maple wood with a dragon heartstring core. It all sounded incredible to her, and when she held the wand it felt good in her hands.
When Olivander handed her the wand and it bonded with her, he had eyed her knowingly, "You were made for this world. An explorer, you'll see!"
Lydia had smiled at him awkwardly, but thinking on it now, it was probably more a feeling of excitement. She really wanted to be a part of this place.

Late at night Lydia sat in the Slytherin common room – soaking in the heat from the fireplace – and dwelling on her thoughts. She had left her job, her home and her friends to be here. But she didn't feel as though she would miss any of it greatly. No. It was more about how she would make herself fit into the magical world; and if she was being honest, this place was everything she could have ever hoped for, so she wanted to succeed.
Lydia held her textbook for potions in her hands – it felt heavy. Professor Snape had made her feel uneasy. Though, it was clear he favoured the Slytherins, he didn't seem to be fair to other students in his class. Particularly Harry Potter and his friends. Lydia had heard all about the chosen one, and the dark lord – a history lesson that seemed too terrifying to be real. But it seemed the magic world had just as much darkness in it as the world she came from. Nevertheless, potions was a comforting class to her. It was familiar – almost like preparation for an exotic meal…just with toad's feet and powdered asphodel.
She opened the textbook, her eyes running over the content for the week. It looked like they were going to be attempting to brew a potion called a Wiggenweld potion – some kind of healing potion. Lydia tilted her head as she skimmed the ingredients, "salamander blood…lionfish spines," it made her shiver at the thought of it. She shook her thoughts away, knowing that she needed to prepare for the class. Lydia hated making mistakes.

Two hours or so had passed while she was taking notes and studying the ingredients – Lydia hadn't even noticed that it was almost midnight. There was meant to be a curfew for students – she thought there was – maybe it didn't apply to the common rooms? It had been incredibly quiet since she started studying. She hadn't even seen another Slytherin the entire time she had been sitting on the couch, or maybe she hadn't noticed.
The door to the common room suddenly swung open, followed by unabashed laughter and three boys shuffling in. Malfoy. There were many words she wanted to call that child that wouldn't be appropriate. She wondered if they had any manners at all, considering everyone was asleep.

"Did you see Potter's face!" Cackled Malfoy as his two followers laughed along with him.

"I bet he's never even felt a stinging hex before!" Said the boy she knew as Crabbe.

Malfoy paused mid laugh and finally noticed Lydia's presence, "Oh look boys, the mudblood is tainting our precious common room."
Lydia felt a petulant glare rising to her face, but just smiled sweetly at them.
"Isn't it a little past your bedtime boys?"
Draco looked at her incredulously. Her words had twisted his face into a scowl.
"How dare you speak to me that way. My father will have you thrown out of here if you ever think of speaking to me like a child again!"
Lydia started to gather her things, not bothering to acknowledge the tantrum that was unfolding before her.
"You will look at me when I speak to you!" He spat.
Lydia sighed, looked at him, and asked, "Forgive me, how old are you again?"
Crabbe piped up, "He's 12!"
Draco elbowed Crabbe in the gut, while Goyle snickered at them both.
"Oh, so a child then."
Her statement left a very angry air in the room. She wasn't sure if he was lost for words, or trying to think of a spell to harm her with, but she figured she should probably leave before he tried anything. She was beginning to think that she should've asked for her own living quarters.

The dungeons were a cold place to wake up in. But Lydia liked the cold. She stretched under the covers and rolled to check the time. 7am. She decided to push the covers from her warm bed and meet the cold air of the day. It was going to be interesting – she could feel it.
Lydia had hair that stretched quite far down her back in umber elegance. Today she had tied it back into a bun, it wouldn't do her well if her hair caught fire. Especially in the presence of the foreboding Professor Snape. She stared with her azure eyes at her pale complexion in the mirror – sunlight had never really been kind to her but she had always liked the porcelain glow to her skin – it seemed more eminent in the shadowy darkness of her chambers.
The great hall was incredible.
She had never been in a room this full of people before Hogwarts. It was welcoming in a way. The hushed mixture of chatter reminded her of when she was in school.
Lydia was planning on sitting on her own. She could hear the snickering from the other Slytherins – though not all of them – and wasn't planning on sitting near them. Especially Draco and his followers.
"Hey, you're the old lady that's a first year aren't you?"
Lydia paused.
"Ron!"
She heard a thud, and an ow! And turned to her left, where she had passed a group of Gryffindor's.
"What Ronald meant to say was, it's nice to meet you." The auburn-haired boy looked at his friend in confusion, but she hit him again and he nodded vigorously.
"T-That's right, sorry. Ah, I'm Ron Weasley, this is Harry and Hermione."
Lydia turned and took the seat that was gestured to her by the young girl, Hermione.
"My name's Lydia Stone, it's nice to meet you all."
Lydia could tell that they were all buzzing with questions to ask her, Hermione especially, but they managed to keep themselves at bay. Lydia noticed that Harry had an inflamed scratch-like wound on his hand and she realised that he must be the Harry Potter. The one that everyone whispered or spoke of in the halls.
"Did Malfoy do that to you?" She asked.
Harry shuffled with his sleeve, she could see the anger bubbling inside of him.
"Yeah," he sighed, "I hate him."
Lydia smiled knowing well what it felt like to be new to a place, new to a world, and treated unfairly by those there. She thought it must have been hard for him.
"Harry, hate is a little strong of a word." Said Hermione.
Lydia was surprised. That's what she was planning on saying. At least the boy had some good friends to help him here.
"He is annoying to say the least." Said Lydia, watching as they chuckled at her word choice, "I think someone needs to knock him off his high horse."
Ron looked bewildered, "…but he doesn't have a horse…we're at Hogwarts…"
By the time Lydia left breakfast she had made three young friends – and it seemed like Hermione Granger had a lot to teach her about magic. She was grateful that she had made some connections, but it didn't stop her from wanting someone more her age to confide in about magic…and just life in general. She would endeavour to ask Dumbledore to introduce her to some people her own age. But today was about her classes – and trying to avoid Draco Malfoy. Which would be hard, because she was ten minutes away from starting her potions class with him.

It was Gryffindor and Slytherin that shared the potions class today. So, the little trio from breakfast were all sitting near Lydia in the classroom. It was comforting. There was a lot of chatter. A lot of arguing – and a lot of glaring from Draco Malfoy. Lydia knew that her alliance with the trio wouldn't bode well for her in most of the Slytherin's books. But she didn't really care. She opened her textbook and turned to the brewing page for the Wiggenwald potion.
"Finally,"
She thought, "this is something I have been looking forward to."
The crack of the classroom door slamming made everyone jump. Every conversation was sliced into silence as Professor Snape walked down the aisle and to his desk.
"Today," he began, leaning on his desk facing the students, and crossing his arms over his chest, "we will be brewing the Wiggenwald potion. Can anyone tell me what the first ingredient is in this potion?" The sarcasm dripped from his tone. Lydia could tell he wasn't expecting anyone to answer the question.
Before she could answer her textbook snapped shut and she jolted away from the book.
"Perhaps, Ms Stone, you could use your own brain, instead of reading from the book in front of you."
The Slytherin's snickered at her and so did some of the Gryffindors. She huffed. Lydia knew that trying to speak back to this man, after he reprimanded you, never went well. She kept her mouth shut and Hermione raised her hand to answer the question.
Snape acknowledged her and nodded.
"Salamander blood, sir."
Snape hummed in annoyance, begrudgingly announcing, "5 points to Gryffindor."
Hermione beamed.
The Professor began pacing across the room to the blackboard, flexing his fingers as his eyes trailed over the students in the room. Then, in his smooth baritone he asked, "I don't suppose any of you did the reading that was prepared for this lesson?"
There was only silence in reply.
"Therefore," he sighed, "You wouldn't happen to know what all of the ingredients used in this potion are?"
Lydia could see Hermione was itching to answer him, her hand stretched high in the air. But Lydia rose hers as well, and received an arched eyebrow from Snape.
"Ms Stone. Don't have your book to peek at for answers – are you sure that you want to answer this; I will not hesitate to take points from my own house."
Lydia had never wanted to roll her eyes more. He made her feel like a child, when she was far from it.
She cleared her throat.
"In order of adding them to the potion after the salamander blood, lionfish spines, flobberworm mucus, honey water and boom berry juice."
His eyes narrowed.
"5 points to Slytherin, but next time try not to be so arrogant when reciting ingredients. Potter brings enough arrogance to this classroom."
Lydia shook her head and just watched as Snape carried on.
"I hope you have all brought your textbooks with you like you were instructed to, if you have not then I hope your memory is as good as Ms Stone's."
Lydia chanced a quick glance at the Professor, and there was a small flick to the top of his lip. He was smirking.

While some of her classmates had panicked and fiddled with ingredients – not having brought their textbooks – others were going quite well with their potions, from what she could tell. She could see that Hermione Granger was an incredibly talented young witch. Her potion was bubbling away perfectly. Lydia's was going quite well too. Though she wasn't as quick at brewing as some of the other students, her potion was the right colour and she had timed the adding of the ingredients perfectly.
It was sudden. First the bubbling turned to ecstatic boiling – spitting liquid across the table. Theodore Nott sat at the table next to her, holding in his laughter with Draco and the others. The liquid was like fire – what managed to land on the table burned through the wood. Lydia stood quickly, "Professor!"
Snape was already bounding down the aisle to her, wand extended. Lydia looked down at the potion. It was on the brink of explosion. She shoved the student closest to her – who happened to be Ron – hoping that he would be far enough from the blast. Each action taken – the echoing steps of Snape – the rise and fall of every breath she took; all felt like it had happened slowly. But it was a matter of seconds. Professor Snape was too late. As words were leaving his lips, the potion exploded over her. Liquid fire seared her skin. She wanted to scream, but her body was gasping for air so much that sound never escaped her lips. Then consciousness left her.