Author's Note: This chapter is dedicated to HellHathNoFuryLikeMine for being my first reviewer. Thank you )

It's going to sound funny, but when I sat down to start this chapter, I'd forgotten my main character's name! And as long as I'm typing I realize that my story isn't HBP compliant either.

Chapter Two -- The Hogwarts Express

Isabella Snape sat alone in the last compartment of the Hogwarts Express. She pressed her forehead against the glass and watched the countryside roll by, sighing glumly. It wasn't that she had anything against Hogwarts. In fact, she much preferred the headmaster to the one of her old school. "Grandpa Albus", as she had come to know him, was her father's best (and as far as she knew, only) friend, and he had spoiled her since she was a small girl. She knew that Hogwarts was more challenging academically, something she looked forward to. But the idea of being split into houses didn't a all appeal to her.

At the school she had previously attended there were so few students that the only thing they were separated by was what year they were in. And because her father was head of Slytherin house, she knew she would be expected to be sorted there. With that scumm Malfoy boy. And his two ugly friends. Isabella thought to herself. What she really wanted was to be in Hufflepuff. They seemed like the nicest group in the school. There she might actually make some friends. But her father wouldn't like that. No, he would want her in Slytherin. If not Slytherin, then Ravenclaw would be the only other acceptable choice. Gryffendor was a definite no. Nobody in Gryffendor would like her anyway.

Another thing Isabella hated about going to a new school was having to try and make new friends. She wasn't good at making friends. As far as she could see, she had no great qualities other than being relatively book smart. I could always offer to let people copy my homework in exchange for friendship. Actually, that had been how she began making friends at her old school. She let people copy information on some of the more difficult homework and eventually they grew to like her more.

Isabella jumped as the compartment door slid open. A slightly chubby, but tall boy stumbled in, followed closely by a thin boy, even taller, with round glasses and what appeared to be a scar on his forehead. Isabella groaned.

"I'm sorry, would you like us to go?" the boy with glasses spoke, but not in an unkind way. He actually looked genuinely concerned.

"No, it's fine," Isabella said. "As long as the famous Harry Potter isn't being followed by his adoring fan club, I don't mind." She mentally kicked herself for being so rude. She sounded like her father. The two boys just looked at her. "Please…" Isabella squeezed her eyes shut for a moment and then opened them again. "Sit down?" Harry was the firs to sit, followed closely by the other boy.

"Er…I don't think I have anyone following me. I'm actually trying to hide." Harry sounded a little uncertain of himself. Isabella had to fight to not giggle. He can vanquish the Dark Lord, but he still lacks self-confidence. "This is Neville," he added after a moment, indicating the boy next to him.

"Longbottom?" Isabella asked, suddenly interested. Her father had talked about Neville Longbottem. He said he was a complete idiot. Then again, he'd also said that Harry Potter was conceited, and he didn't seem to be.

Neville nodded a bit uncertainly at her, looking surprised that she would know his last name. Isabella offered him a small smile.

"My name's Isabella, but you can call me Izzy if you'd like. The only person who calls me Isabella is my father," she told the two boys smiling a little more, and they both smiled back at her. "I'm new two Hogwarts."

"You're a first year?" Neville asked her, sounding confused. Isabella burst into laughter. Maybe he was an idiot. Neville's face turned pink and Harry shot her an annoyed look. Isabella quickly calmed herself down.

"No, sorry about laughing. I'm transferring here. My father's a teacher and since there's no more danger what with Harry over here defeating you-know-who, he wanted me to be a little closer to him than I used to be," she told them, instantly regretting telling them about her father. It looked as if they were about to ask just who her father was when the compartment door slid open to reveal a red-headed boy and a bushy-haired girl coming in. The boy slammed the compartment door shut behind him, greeted Harry and Neville, and then threw himself into the seat next to them. The girl looked over at Isabella.

"Is it alright if I sit next to you?" she asked and Isabella nodded quickly. She was beginning to think she had cooties judging from the distance the boys were keeping from her. The girl smiled and offered her hand to Isabella. "My name's Hermione Granger and the boy who's just ignored you is Ronald Weasley." Isabella took her hand and giggled at the scowl on Ron's face.

"Izzy Snape," she said and shook Hermione's hand. Hermione looked only mildly taken aback at the last name, but the boys all reacted almost violently.

"Your father is Snape?" Harry asked, as if not quite able to believe it. Neville and Ron stared at her like she was a mutant.

"Professor Snape," Hermione admonished Harry before turning back to Isabella. "He's a very good teacher, you know."

"He's also a git," Ron said, almost somberly, as he looked at Isabella. Hermione said sharply to him, "Ron!" but Isabella giggled.

"He can be, can't he?" she agreed. Harry and Neville began to laugh, but Hermione looked taken aback. "Well, he is making me leave the school I've gone to for six years, and all of the friends I have just so I can go to what he deems a better school," she tried to explain to Hermione.

"Better hope you're in Slytherin if he's your dad, eh?" Harry asked her, grinning. Isabella sighed.

"I suppose, but won't it be fun if I'm not?" Isabella wiggled her eyebrows mischievously and Ron laughed.

"I hope she's in Gryffendor!" he said. And everyone in the compartment started laughing. Isabella leaned against the window again, and she chatted happily with the four people with her, feeling marginally better about the year ahead.