So this fanfiction will be more like one-shots and mini-stories, and won't have one main protagonist as most of mine do. That said, it won't be actual one-shots and the stories will be linked vaguely.

Hopefully I haven't made that too confusing!

Oh, also I will title each chapter with the year and character whose POV it will be. I'll also put what year Harry, Draco and Ron etc were in at the time just for clarity. (Not necessarily the year that the OC/POV was in at the time.)

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter or it's characters. Basically nothing is mine, (bar any OCs/plot lines.)

1991: First Year

Domina

My peaceful life at Hogwarts began, and ended, when the sorting hat was lowered upon my head. It had barely grazed the top of my scalp when it yelled, in a scratchy voice that was as clear as day: "SLYTHERIN!"

At first I was overjoyed. I had been sat with a group of two girls and three boys on the way here and, from what I could gather, Slytherin was the house for those destined to be great. Not to mention my father had been a Slytherin, and a proud one at that, until the day he had fallen in love with my mother, (who, incidentally, was a muggle.)

And so upon my joining Slytherin, I made a pact with myself. No funny business. No scandals. No drama.

I broke that deal before the day was over.

"Both of my parents are purebloods. No-one in my family would dream of marrying outside of magic. It's filthy." A snotty girl with a pointed nose was sneering, "Mudbloods have no right in being here."

Another boy, with olive skin and black, messy hair nodded. "My father was a half-blood," he admitted, almost ashamed, "But he lied about it to my mum... She divorced him when she found out." There were gasps and exchanged glances around me when he spoke, followed by approving nods and sympathetic smiles as he told of his mother's reaction.

"My mother is a muggle."

Forks hovered above plates, knives paused in their cutting and all eyes turned to me.

"A muggle? You mean, your actual mother is an actual muggle?!" Snotty-voice-pointy-nose asked incredulously and with a hint of malice.

The third-year sat opposite me had pumpkin juice on his chin, but seemed to shocked- or disgusted- to wipe it away.

I felt my cheeks heat up to boiling point, steam erupting from my burning ears. I spluttered and stammered to correct myself.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid stupid stupid!

"Ah- I- well, I mean, her sister, my auntie, w-was a witch," I lied quickly and unconvincingly, "Sh-she gave my mother a love potion to use, um, on my dad, and uh, he left as soon as she stopped giving it to him. I- I haven't seen her since I was, erm, two. I, uh, I really hate her, so... yeah..."

I dared to glance up from my plate of sickening food to see that the shocked and scornful expressions of a moment ago had shifted slightly into doubt and a wary acceptance.

"What an absolute whore!" The olive-skinned boy exclaimed suddenly, "How dare she?!"

My skin prickled and my fists clenched on their own accord, but I forced them to relax. The truth, and the lies, had left my mouth now; there was no taking them back.

"Was your father from Hogwarts?" The third-year asked me, (he had removed the juice.)

I nodded in reply, my blood still pumping with nervous adrenaline, "He was a Slytherin," I told them, hoping to gain favour with them.

"Well that's even worse then!" Another girl piped up, "I'm sorry to say it..." She paused, "What was your name again?"

"Oh, Domina," I replied, finally feeling the heat in my face begin to cool.

"Right..." She continued, "I'm sorry to say it Domina, but your mother is a slut, a liar and a bitch, and I feel so sorry for you having been brought into this world as little more than a mudblood. I say your father needs some kind of compensation for his pride!"

My lip twitched my my gut clenched.

Was it too late to jump back on that stool and ask for a different house?

Probably. And anyway, I wasn't about to let them win! I would stick it out and see this through: I wanted to be a Slytherin and here I am, muggle mother and all.

A disgusted scoff brought me back to the table.

"Something the matter Malfoy?" An older boy- had no idea how old exactly- asked.

"Wait until my father hears what sort they're letting into Slytherin these days. It was barely tolerable having to attend the same school as mudbloods, but this, this is ridiculous. Domina, was it? Stay away from me, filthy muggle." Malfoy sneered.

I flinched, genuinely hurt by his stinging words. His pale, angular face was drawn into a grimace, and his eyes were glaring with a burning contempt. He was a first year, like me, but clearly considered himself better than everyone in the room.

"Why, if my father weren't desperately needed at the Ministry, I'm sure he would found his own school, one that only the purest and mist worthy could attend." The pale boy continued arrogantly.

It was almost laughable.

"Oh yeah?" A different boy leant across me and joined in, "And what would he call this amazing school of his? Boarspots? Or maybe Pigfarts?"

I snorted, despite my embarrassment and bruised pride, and raised my chin from its low place on my chest. There was general laughter from those around us, although most had become bored of Malfoy but this point, and had tuned out of the conversation.

"Albany," the boy who had just saved me said, holding out a dark hand for me to shake, "Albany Tryone."

I took his hand and shook it.

"Domina Malton," I said, my voice still a little wobbly, "Thanks, by the way."

"Hey, don't mention it," Albany grinned, "I can't stand stuck-up pricks that act all superior- he's only just got here for Merlin's sake! Who does he think he is?"

I returned the grin and let my hand drop to my lap. The boy grinning before me had dark skin, and was most likely of mixed descent, high, sharp cheekbones and a strong, square jaw. His hair was a dark, mahogany brown, verging on black, and was pulled back into a messy, frizzy ponytail at the nape of his neck. He sat with a lazy arrogance- although not In such a way that he came across as cocky- leaning his elbow confidently on the table and resting his head on his fist.

There was no way to describe him other than beautiful, as odd as it sounded.

"So, what year are you..?" I was nervous, obviously so, and was finding it hard to concentrate on anything but the dark, mellow brown of Albany's eyes.

"Oh I'm in my third year," he replied, one corner of his mouth lifting slightly, "I feel sorry for you, being stuck with that arrogant piece of work."

I smiled. Something about Albany put me at ease and made me feel almost at home.

We talked a little more of Hogwarts; he filled me in on which teachers to be cautious around and which lessons were the hardest. I asked about the ghosts and moving staircases, and about the legends and secrets of the castle.

All too soon however, the Great Feast was over, and it was time to be shown to our common room and dorms. Albany flashed me a mischievous grin before standing to leave the table.

"See you round," he said, with a brief nod of the head, "...Domino."

I hope you enjoyed the first chapter, I'll upload the next one if there's enough interest! Please review and tell me what you think:)

PS- pronunciation: Domina is Dom-EE-na,

Albany is Al-ban-ee (just in case you didn't get that,)

and Tryone is Tri-OH-nee.