Chapter One: The Beginning

I had no idea what to expect walking into Hogwarts. I had lived my whole life in the States with my mother, so the unexpected transfer was a situation that was hard to wrap my head around. I knew absolutely no one, and literally had no interest in knowing anyone.

"This is a unique situation, Sarah," rambled on Professor Dumbledore, "Hogwarts has never had a student transfer here from another school of magic. But, your mother expressed the importance of you being here, so I agreed to it. I'm sure she has her reasons."

My mother, Evangeline Lynwood, had gone to Hogwarts herself, but eventually moved to the U.S. to "escape" the shitstorm that was going on with the magical community however many years ago it was that she was here.

"It's whatever," I said whimsically. How strange it was for me to be here with everyone who surrounded me with their English accents. Professor Dumbledore was the only person who actually even knew that I was here. Another thing that I found strange. Why would they want to keep my presence here a secret?

"Being that you are here now," Professor Dumbledore went on, "The first thing we must do is situate yourself into one of the Houses here. The only way to do that is to have you put the Sorting Hat on." He pulled it down from one of the shelves. It was the oldest, most raggedy looking thing I had ever seen. He gave it to me, and I half-heartedly put it on. It jumped to life.

"Hmm," it began, "What an unusual thing it is for me to sort someone into a house being in their sixth year. Ah. I have met your mother once. What an unusual gift she had. So hard to place her. And you seem to have acquired it yourself, young lady. What an unusual gift it is indeed. And you yourself, are what seems to be, even harder to place than she was. So talented, and gifted a witch you are. Brilliant, might I say. Ravenclaw might be the best place for you. But you seem straight-forward and I sense quite a bit of bravery that flows in your blood. Maybe Gryffindor. No. Gryffindor won't do, not for you. I believe that you belong in Slytherin, my dear. Yes. Slytherin it will be for you."

The hat went silent and Professor Dumbledore removed it, returning it to its home back on the shelf.

Dumbledore sat down in his chair behind his desk. I had absolutely no fucking idea what to do.

"Your mother was in Slytherin, too you know," he mused. "The head of your house is Professor Severus Snape. You will find him to be someone you might acquaint with. And he will find it interesting that you are here. The common room and your dormitory are both down in the dungeons." The dungeons? Who the fuck lives in the dungeons? Whatever.

I left his office and walked out into the massive crowd of students. I gathered from the different color robes that my house color was green. What terrible color. And a snake for the mascot? Gag.

I was kind of a sore thumb in this heard of people. I could feel people watching me as I walked, and I hated every second of it. I was on the tall side and thin. I had long, dark hair and brilliantly dark blue eyes and have been told time and time again that I was unbelievably beautiful with olive skin and straight, pretty white teeth. Pretty much a barbie doll, minus the barbie doll personality.

I eventually found my way to the common room. It was dingy but there was a gigantic wall made of glass that looked into the depths of the Great Lake and it was breathtakingly wondrous. I couldn't believe my eyes. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad down here. I found it slightly comforting, as a matter of fact. I dropped my shit off on the bed where my belongings found a home and grabbed my journal and went down and found myself a corner with a chair and pulled out my pen and began writing while watching everyone sitting in the room with me, trying to figure out the type of people that I would be sharing residence with.

There was one group in particular that I was lulling over their conversations silently from my hideaway.

"Dracooo," cooed some bitchy girl, "Why must you always tease me?" she asked the blonde boy who was throwing garbage at, "I never do anythinggg to you." I hated her immediately. She annoyed the shit out of me with her whiny voice.

"Crabbe, get me something to drink, you worthless idiot," he demanded some troll of a boy. Jesus, what was wrong with people? I would have punched this kid in the damn face if he talked to me like that. And to my astonishment, this lumbering idiot actually got up to go get this kid something to drink, and I assumed it wasn't water. I just continued writing.

I looked back up and this kid was fucking staring at me. I was just further peeved.

"I don't think I have EVER seen you down here before," he said. I was pretty sure he was talking to me, but I continued to ignore him because I had absolutely no interest on talking to someone as awful as him. He knew I was too because he got up and walked over to me. Just the way he did pissed me off too, all arrogant and shit, like he owned the place.

"I was taking to you," he sneered at me. I looked at him with such a soul shattering glare that I'm surprised that he didn't catch on fire.

"I'm pretty sure," I began, "That I didn't reply for a reason." And there it was. My accent. He looked at me curiously. Then to my dismay, he sat down. I caught a side glance of that stupid girl glaring at me. "And I don't think your pet is too happy about you being here, so be a good boy and get the fuck away from me."

He laughed.

"Who the fuck are you?" he asked. "None of your fucking business is who I am." I replied to him as I continued writing.