Slytherin.

There was distant clapping, and Adelinda's wide-eyed gaze went to the Gryffindor table, where all four of her newly-made acquaintances were watching her. Ron looked surprised, Ginny and Hermione and Harry concerned…they had explained the houses to her, and they had explained that among all four, Slytherin was the least liked. In fact, the Slytherin house was hated…and after the war, she didn't imagine it was any more liked than it was before. She could only hope that the four Gryffindors wouldn't turn away from her, now that she was a member of their rival house; they were the only people she knew. Trying to push those thoughts aside, Adelinda stood and placed the Sorting Hat onto the stool behind her. As she made her way to the Slytherin tables, the next student's name was being called; the normal sorting of the first years had begun, and all attention was directed towards the student being sorted. She was relieved.

Of all four houses, Slytherin seemed to have the least returning students. They were prejudiced, Harry had told her, many of them being the sons and daughters of death-eaters. Many had died in the war, many had gone into hiding because of their affiliations with the late Dark Lord, and many had been too ashamed to return to the school. It made sense, and also made her dread having been sorted into this house…her heart was pounding against the walls of her chest as she reached the first table. There was a tall, thin girl smiling at her with equally thin lips. "Adelinda, was it?" she greeted. "You can sit here. Pansy Parkinson-welcome to Slytherin." The teenager gave a smile. She had been raised polite, and though unhappy and nervous, would not toss her manners aside.

"Thank you," she said softly, taking a seat beside the girl. Woman, really…Adelinda assumed her to be one of the few returning Slytherin seventh-years. She was beautiful in a cold sort of way, with black hair that provided a stark contrast against her white skin and fell just above her shoulders. That was the end of their conversation as attention was again turned to the students being sorted. Each time a student was sorted into Slytherin, her housemates clapped, some whistled, and the other houses fell silent, save for a few students who were perhaps showing sympathy. She found it hard to focus on the sorting and instead let her thoughts and gaze drift to the Gryffindors; she had wanted so strongly to be sorted into that house. Her father had been a Gryffindor when he had attended Hogwarts. Would he be disappointed upon hearing that his daughter had been sorted into the house she was sure he had hated in his teenage years? And what of the friends she had made? Would they still consider her a friend? The anxiety she had been experiencing before being sorted had only worsened afterwards. Adelinda was not normally such a nervous person, and the anxiety began to turn to anger; an emotion she much preferred over fear.

"And with Mr. Zabini having been the last student to be sorted, let us feast!" McGonagall raised her chalice to the students in a cheer, and food appeared in abundance before them; Adelinda realized she was starving and marveled at the cuisine before her and the way it had just appeared. Elves, she remembered. Her father had explained them to her. She glanced towards the last boy to have been sorted. He sat beside an older boy who may very well have been his brother, both with a beautiful, dark complexion and handsome features. If the last name was any indication, they had Italian family—perhaps Adelinda could use that to her advantage and make a friend or two here in this cold house.

"So, Adelinda…" her attention was drawn back to the dark-haired girl at her side. "…whereabouts are you from?"

Adelinda had begun gathering food on her plate, but stopped when she saw how little the other Slytherin girls were spooning onto their dishes; they were all so thin, she couldn't be surprised, but also couldn't help feeling a bit self-conscious. "I was born here in England," she explained, twirling her spoon in a small bowl of pudding, a nervous habit. "But raised in Italy." She glanced towards the two Slytherin boys, and met the older one's eyes. She looked away immediately.

"How interesting," Pansy said, her dark eyes fixed on Adelinda's.

"I suppose," she responded cautiously. As Pansy began to make more meaningless small talk, Adelinda observed the people around her, all the while keeping up simple conversation with the girl. All of the students seemed to know each other well, even the first years—in fact, many of the new students seemed to be family of the older Slytherins. It wasn't a surprise, really; Hermione had explained to her that almost all of the Slytherins were pureblood, and with a limited number of pureblood families left in the wizarding world, they were all connected in one way or another. With that thought, Adelinda realized for the first time that she was probably the only Muggle-born student to have ever been sorted into Slytherin, and the thought made her blanch; if the Slytherins were truly all so closely knit, they had to know that. She would be shocked if they didn't.

"Adelinda." The woman's sharp voice brought her attention back to the people in front of her. "Adelinda, this is Draco."

"Malfoy." the sharp correction came from the lips of a fair-skinned man, and when her eyes met his she felt her cheeks regain a bit of their color. His hair was just as pale as his skin, and his eyes an intimidating, cool grey.

"Draco, here—" Pansy seemed to taunt him, and he sneered ever so slightly in her direction; for the most part, however, he seemed indifferent to everything around him. "—is Head Boy, and will be showing you around. I would do it, but my Prefect duties require me to attend to all these useless first years." Her false sweetness gave way for just a moment with this statement.

"It's lovely to meet you," Adelinda said in a voice void of anything but a polite kindess. She extended a hand towards him, but when he did not reach out to shake it, instead giving her a curt nod, she dropped it back to her lap awkwardly. How rude.

"Draco," Pansy scolded, but her eyes shone with amusement. "Don't mind him, he's always grumpy…always has something to complain about." The blond paid no mind whatsoever to the girl's teasing, his eyes still on Adelinda. When she met them again, her embarrassment at his rejection slowly giving way to irritation, he looked away. After what felt like ages, McGonagall dismissed the students by year; the first years were the first to leave, of course, led out by their prefects, and afterward all of the younger students had vacated the Great Hall, the remaining were free to leave. Adelinda waited for Malfoy's qeue to leave, sitting quietly. The rest of the Slytherins had been quick to desert the Great Hall.

It was nearly empty. "Ah…are we leaving?" Adelinda questioned, looking over to him.

He pushed himself up. He was taller than she had realized sitting down, towering over her by at least a head. "Yes," he said simply. "I prefer not to push through the mass of sweaty students in the corridors." Adelinda could understand that, and almost appreciated it. He walked towards the large double doors at so brisk a pace that his robes billowed behind him, and she followed behind him as quickly as she could. He was silent on the walk, and she wondered if they would ever get to the Slytherin common room. "Our common room is in the dungeon, below the lake," he told her, not bothering to look at her. They were making their way down a set of large stone stairs. "It's a bit different from all other houses, not that you would know…the Slytherin numbers have been cut by at least half, though, and as a result all but the first years all have our own rooms. I will show you where yours is, and—" His hand shot out to grab her arm as she nearly fell. The staircase had moved. Who in their right mind would make moving staircases? "Watch it. As I was saying, I will show you where your room is, and after that, you can find another person to show you to your classes. I have things to take care of."

Adelinda scowled. Her cheeks had flushed scarlet at nearly falling in front of this handsome—albeit impolite—man, but his tight grip on her arm and his rude words let her replace embarrassment with anger. She didn't show it. "You're very rude," Adelinda said, her soft, lilting voice as indifference and matter-of-fact as she could make it. It crossed her mind that Ron had mentioned a 'Malfoy' on the train, and how he had better not say anything to Hermione…another Muggle-born. Perhaps now she understood that remark. "I will gladly find someone else to show me where my classes are tomorrow."

He glanced at her sharply. She noted with satisfaction that he seemed surprised to have someone speaking to him in such a way, though Pansy had spoken to him in worse manners. They walked in silence now, and Adelinda took advantage of that silence to observe her surroundings.

Paintings cluttered the walls of the castle, some scowling at her, some waving and greeting her, some speaking to Malfoy as though they were good friends; he ignored them. She was careful of the staircases, but they seemed to have ended, and now they made their way through various doors. The corridors got darker and colder, and she questioned why anyone would want to live underneath a lake…and in dungeons, at that…it was certainly morbid, but then, when your house was represented by a serpent, what was a bit of cold and a lack of light? Adelinda was drawn from her thoughts as they stopped before a stone wall, and she glanced at the older boy curiously. "Parseltongue," he said in a cold monotone, and the stone slid aside to reveal a candlelit passage. "The password. It changes every fortnight, so don't forget to check the noticeboard in the common room, or you'll be out of luck." Adelinda nodded. They moved through the passage and finally reached the common room; it was decorated in green and silver tapestries, of course, all sources of light giving off a greenish hue. Leather sofas and chairs were scattered around a large, blazing fireplace, the only source of heat in the grand room. It was a beautiful, Adelinda thought, but eerie. There were bookshelves lining the wall around the fireplace, and several staircases leading towards what she assumed to be the dormitories. There were only a handful of students there, most of them the older Slytherins, and none of them paid any mind, instead calling out to Malfoy. "It should be common sense that no student from the other houses is to be given the password."

Adelinda eyed him. Did he think her daft? "Common sense indeed," she said a bit sharply. He gave her no response, instead leading her towards the staircase to the right. She was a bit cautious until she realized these ones would not move.

"No males are able to enter the girls' dormitories," Malfoy said in a bored voice, as if he had listed these rules too many times to new students. They continued to walk further down the dimly lit hall, numbered doors on either side. "Each room has a key that knows your touch, so that even if your key is stolen, no one can access your room. It cannot be opened by magic. Professors, Prefects, and myself, as Head Boy, are all exceptions to these rules."

They finally stopped before Room #14. "Well. Here it is." He pulled a key from his pocket, and handed it to her. "Your schedule will be in the common room tomorrow morning."

Before Adelinda could even slip the key into the lock, he had turned and was walking briskly away from her. "Thank you," she called after him; she refused to be impolite.

He cast a curious glance over his shoulder. "Yeah," he said after a moment's pause, and went on his way.

"All of these 'noble' pureblood families, and this one so rude," the tired girl mumbled to herself. She stepped into her bedroom and was disappointed at the continued Slytherin theme, though no surprised. A large bed sat in the middle of it, and above it, right before the ceiling, sat a small window that let moonlight spill in; she wondered briefly if you could see the lake directly below the window. There was a desk and a nightstand to either side of the bed, and her trunk sat at the foot of it; a wardrobe had been pushed up against the wall. The bedding, of course, was green with silver accents, the carpet a very dark color, and the walls so light of a grey they were almost white. "What a dreary room." Adelinda slipped her robe off and let it hang from a hook on the back of the door. With a flick of her wand she opened her empty wardrobe and full trunk, and began moving clothing from one to the other. They had no classes tomorrow, Malfoy had told her; she might as well take advantage of her free night to make herself at home. She laid her wand down on the bed, pulling out her class books and laying them neatly on the desk, organizing her parchment and quills and ink in the drawers beneath it. After thirty minutes of thoughtless organization she had no more to do, and took a seat at her desk to begin writing her parents. She was sure McGonagall had let them know that she had made it there safely—they were very close—but they would want to hear from her regardless.

Mama,

I have made it safely to Hogwarts. It was an uneventful trip, but I did enjoy going to Diagon Alley, and it feels a bit surreal to be able to say I have flown with Harry Potter. The train ride was nice, but long, and I miss you and Papa already. I met the Weasley family, you know, Ron Weasley—his sister Ginny and I seem to get along quite nicely. I also met Hermione Granger. I had been hoping to be sorted into Gryffindor, but instead was put into Slytherin, which—after hearing that house described to me—came as a bit of a shock…I'm afraid I won't fit in, but I am sure I will make friends in the other houses. It can't be too hard.

Tomorrow I will explore the castle and find all my classes, perhaps meet a few of my professors, but right now I am exhausted and must get to sleep. I will write you again soon and let you know how everything is going.

Ti amo,
Adella

She rolled the parchment and sealed it with her gold wax, setting it on her desk to be taken to the owlery first thing in the morning. After changing into her sleep clothes, she settled into her bed for a restless night of sleep.

Adelinda slept in after having tossed and turned all night; once she had tried to settle in, she found her nerves acting up at sleeping in a strange place. She realized that this was the furthest she had ever been from her parents, at sixteen years old, and the first time she had slept in a place that was not home; she would have to get used to it, though. She had nearly a year ahead of her. She lay there for a bit before forcing herself up, nervous for the day ahead of her; she had no one to show her around. Perhaps they had maps of the school…as large as it was, she would be very surprised if they didn't. Did she wear her robes today? The letter she had gotten had said the uniform only needed to be worn during classes, so she supposed not. She dressed herself in a snug pair of jeans, black booties and a black shirt that hugged her up top and flowed down her back. She pulled her unwashed hair up into a topknot and thought that she needed to find the showers later.

After touching up her make up from the day before, she slipped her wand into her waistband and her room key into her pocket, leaving her room and locking the door behind her. There were a few other girls exiting their rooms, but they did little more than glance her way; she walked in silence to the quiet common room. There was a small cluster of young girls near the passageway chatting and a few others sat quietly near the fire, reading or writing; she saw a familiar blond-headed boy seated at the couch, and when a first-year walked up to him and was handed a few pieces of parchment, she thought that perhaps he was handing out the schedules.

"Goodmorning," she greeted him simply. "Do you have the schedules?"

Malfoy looked up at her. She couldn't help but be struck by his good looks—his finely defined jaw and his pale skin, his sharp grey eyes and the blond hair that fell in straight strands around his face to frame it beautifully. He didn't answer her at first, and she sighed, taking a seat at the opposite arm of the couch and turning her gaze towards the fire. If he didn't want to give her a response, she would wait here until he decided he would speak to her, or until he gave her one of the schedules that she could see in his hands.

Draco glanced at Adelinda as she took a seat. She was a small one, he thought. Maybe it was the muggle blood. He would not let himself admit that he found her beautiful; she was four years younger than him and of dirty blood.

He looked away as she turned her head. She had caught his gaze, however, and raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. "You're late," he said stiffly. "First years were supposed to be here at eight o'clock to get their schedules and be shown around."

"I am not a First year," Adelinda told him. "And actually, you did not tell me that. I just need my schedule, and perhaps a map if you have it, and I will find my own way around one way or another."

"You're a bothersome little thing, aren't you," he muttered. To this she did not respond; her feelings were a bit hurt. She had done nothing to this boy and had been at Hogwarts for but a day, and already, he didn't like her. It seemed that she wasn't the best at making friends. "Here." He handed her a piece of parchment. "I'll show you around after breakfast. McGonagall will have a fit if I don't, being Head Boy and all…come on. I'm sure you're hungry."

"You don't have to. I'll tell her that I wanted to find my own way," Adelinda said a bit sourly. As rude as this older boy had been, she wasn't sure why she would be willing to cover for him—she would like to believe it was because she simply didn't want to deal with him, but she didn't have it in her to knowingly start trouble, either. "I'm sure you have better things to be doing with your time; am I right?" She raised an eyebrow at him without turning her eyes to his, keeping them locked on her schedule as if she were actually reading it.

"Yes," he said. "However, a promise is a promise, and I made one to McGonagall. And you are a Slytherin…I may have better things to do, but I can't leave one of my own, well, on her own. Now come on." Malfoy stood. He wore black dress pants and well-polished leather shoes to match, a grey silk shirt and a black tie loose around his neck. So formal for a day at school, but Adelinda supposed at twenty years old and after being out of school for three years, a Pureblood would grow unaccustomed to school uniforms. Or perhaps he was simply that stuck up his own arse. She felt a twang of guilt at this thought and she pushed it away—he was quite mean, but that didn't mean that she had to be, did it?

"Whatever you say," Adelinda said indifferently, standing up and brushing a bit of invisible dust from the tops of her thighs. He was confusing, this Malfoy boy. Man. Whatever you would call a twenty year old attending Hogwarts. He wouldn't leave her on her own, but he was not happy about doing that; why do it, then? Promises, he had said. Well, promise or no promise, if he was going to do something he needn't have been rude about it. She ranted angrily in her head as she followed him out of the Slytherin common room, wishing she had worn a sweater as she walked through the dungeons. It was unnecessarily chilly, but as they came closer to the Great Hall, it warmed up some. There weren't many people still in the Great Hall, but there were enough that they did not attract attention entering it. He led her to the Slytherin table and they sat. She didn't much feel like eating so instead she looked at her schedule as he spoke to other people, all of whom were ignoring her. She could hear the words 'mudblood' and 'muggle-born' and 'dirty' being thrown around quietly, but not too quietly as to not be heard by Adelinda, and the girl's heart dropped into her stomach. She would not sit here and listen to this.

"Excuse me," Adelinda said quietly to the blond boy. He turned to her with a look of slight irritation on her face. It stung. She certainly didn't have the tough skin required to be a part of this serpentine house. "What are the rules on sitting at other houses' tables?"

"Well, I supposed it's not against the rules, but it's certainly frowned upon—Amoretto!" She had pushed herself to her feet, grabbed her schedule and begun to walk away from the table, ignoring him as he called her name. She headed towards the Gryffindor table; perhaps they would turn her away, but she had to try. Ginny and Hermione sat there still, chatting away, and they glanced her way. To her relief, there was no malice in their eyes, only hesitation in Hermione's as they greeted her.

"I cannot stand those Slytherins," she said in a heated voice. Ginny slid over and let her sit down, and she put her parchment on the table. "They are rude, and they are mean, and they are obnoxious. They are terrible and I don't know why I was sorted into that bloody house." She turned her head over her shoulder to glance back at the people in reference; they all stared after her in shock.

"You know there are going to be a lot of them very angry about the fact that you're sitting here with us," Ginny told her gently. "We don't mind, of course—" she added hastily with a glance towards Hermione and the other Gryffindors that were looking at her. "—but you should know that. The war is three years over but I doubt that much has changed within that house."

"Well, I have already had to listen to them talk about mudbloods and muggle-borns this morning," she said a bit bitterly. Talking about it was making her feel better, and slowly the anger slid out of her. "I don't think I care much for their opinions."

Ginny just nodded. "Well, good for you," the redheaded girl said brightly. "Why don't you eat, and Hermione and I can show you around the school? I'm sure you're curious. And quite confused. I was my first year."

Adelinda nodded. "Thank you for not turning me away just because I'm a Slytherin," she said to the girl quietly.

"Like I said," Ginny began, putting an arm around Adelinda. "The war is over. Their opinions may not have changed much, nor their behavior, but that doesn't mean some of us aren't trying to change. And change has to start somewhere." She winked and gave her a squeeze. "Now eat!"

They all gathered food onto their plates and dug in; she hadn't realized how empty her stomach was. She hadn't ate much at dinner after sorting, too nervous and too self-aware because every stick thin Slytherin girl was had been eyeing her plate full of food with something that she hadn't been sure was judgment or jealousy. Both were ridiculous. She ate her heart out now, however, stuffing herself with breakfast puddings and breads and fruit, and it was delectable. After the three girls were full and had had their fill of chatting they got up to show Adelinda around; they spent hours walking around Hogwarts. It was huge. She wasn't even sure she would be able to get to all of her classes in time, but Ginny assured her there would always be someone around to help, and they had quite a few classes together—Adelinda was in a few advanced classes, her home-schooling having given her the upper hand in those that did not involve intricate magic; potions, charms, History of Magic, herbology…she was actually in a position to possibly graduate with the Seventh Years, depending on the marks she received in her N.E.W.T-level classes. McGonagall had told her parents she would consider letting her take the N.E.W.T exams at the end of the year. They would see. She spent the majority of her day with the Gryffindor girls; they eventually met with their boyfriends and invited her to tag along—they were just going to go get dinner and roam around, they said—but she didn't want to intrude. Ron and Harry had seemed a bit stand-offish as it was, and she wondered if they felt odd about being around a Slytherin…the thought made her sad. Instead of heading towards the Slytherin common room, she made her way to the library. It was empty. Classes had not started yet, and no one felt the need to study or check out books if it wasn't necessary, it seemed. That was perfect for her. She wanted to be alone; Adelinda spent the better part of two hours browsing the monstrous library. She had visited libraries in Italy, but none like this, of course; the books had not rearranged themselves or put themselves back onto the shelves (in alphabetical order). She had taken to leaving books in completely different parts of the library just to watch them flutter back to their designated spot, taking pleasure in this simple thing. Lucky for her, the librarian was not in, either. Finally, Adelinda settled into a soft chair with a few books, her legs curled under her and wand resting beside a stack of texts as she read. She became completely immersed in the book she read, an autobiography of some famous, tragic witch from the 1800's complete with sepia-toned photographs, when someone cleared their throat from several feet away. She jumped and went for her wand immediately, the leather-bound book falling to the carpeted floor with a loud thump.

"Calm yourself, Amoretto," a particular snarky blond boy said, his hands up to show that he was wand-less. "It's only me."

"Buon dio, don't you have enough sense to not sneak up on a girl!" Adelinda flushed red at this rude exclamation that slipped past her normally polite lips but she would not let herself apologize, not to him, and not after the miserable morning she had had…perhaps she was overreacting to the conversation she had overheard and this rude boy, but she couldn't help it. It had been so long since she had been around people her own age and her last schooling experience just six years ago had not gone well.

"I didn't sneak up on you," Malfoy told her, and eyed her wand. "Would you mind lowering that bloody thing before you take my eye out? I'm not going to hurt you for Merlin's sake." She lowered her wand as asked but kept it in her hand, watching him.

"What do you want?" Adelinda asked quietly.

"I had noticed that you weren't in the common room yet," he told her, and sat down lazily in a chair across from where she had been reading. "And wanted to make sure that you hadn't gotten lost. Of course, how could you, with those Gryffindors helping you out? So buddy-buddy with the rival house."

"It isn't as though the people I have encountered in our house have treated me very well," she snapped at him. "You have been downright rude, and if you even try to tell me that you couldn't hear those people talking about 'mudblood' this and 'weak muggle-born' that—"

"I don't—"

"—the Gryffindors may be our rival house, but let me tell you this: I didn't want to be sorted into Slytherin, and as long as I have friends with Gryffindor, I will stay 'buddy-buddy' with them. I am going to the common room now." Adelinda stood and gathered her things, storming out before he could say another word.

Fighting tears and struggling to find her way back to the Slytherin common room—unfortunately having to ask for help once or twice—she finally made it, and collapsed onto her bed. It had been such a long day already, and classes started in the morning.

Joy.