"What took you so long?" Daphne asked in a whisper as I slid into the chair next to her. First week or not, we both were still assigned a lot of homework so we decided to use our Friday off to finish or at least get started on the list of papers we had to write.

"I might have gotten cornered by Ron Weasley and Harry Potter," I said just as quietly. Daphne gave a hushed gasp.

"Are you okay? Did they hurt you or anything?" The idea of either boy hurting me make me laugh under my breath.

"They didn't hurt me, but Ron might have a bruise under his left eye tomorrow that could possibly be my fault."

"You got in a fight? That's so reckless, Cor. You could have lost points or worse had you been caught."

"We were near the common room. I figured if it really escalated into a fight I could have screamed and gotten some support," I defended lightly. Daphne frowned worriedly.

"What was it even about?"

"Ron wanted to know why I tried to help Neville. I think he was a little disappointed to realize that not all Slytherin's are self-centered pricks."

"And the punch?"

"He insulted my family."

"Ah..." Family was important in the wizarding world, something Daphne knew as well as I did. If Ron had insulted Astoria, she likely would have hexed the eyebrows off of him.

"Did you say that you got in a fight with Ron Weasley?" a new voice asked. I resisted the urge to groan. Now someone else knows... But I looked up to see Hermione, the girl who had apparently read up on Potions before class. Her hair was frizzy as usual, her arms full of books.

"I would prefer to call it more of a kerfuffle," I shrugged. "You're a Gryffindor. Hermione, right?"

"Uh- yes!" the girl squeaked after hesitating. I glanced at Daphne as Hermione took a seat, stacking her books on the table neatly. "Can I know what the fight was about?"

"House elf rights," I said absently. "Then I was invited to tea and we all went our merry way." Hermione's face made it clear that she thought I was making fun of her. I sort of was... I sighed. "It's nothing important."

"Or it's too important to talk about with me," Hermione said a little sullenly. "It's okay. I guess I'm used to that by now."

"It's not you," I said, raising an eyebrow. "It's actually hardly worth talking about. Weasley wanted to know why I, the slimy Slytherin, was interested enough in Neville Longbottom's well being to try and help him."

"Well... Why were you? I mean-" Hermione blushed a little, brushing her frizzy hair back with one hand. "I've seen people from your house and there are rumors..."

Hermione's voice drifted off into nothingness as if she realized that she was being rude. I wondered if she realized just how tactless she was, though.

"You're muggleborn." It wasn't a question but Hermione nodded a little sheepishly. "That means that you only know what you've heard or read in books. Slytherin has a bad reputation for being self-centered and ambition-crazed but that's not all we are. We're supposed to be clever and resourceful. We find solutions other people can't, recognize potential allies in a sea of enemies, and can talk in circles so tight that will make you dizzy. No one remembers that anymore, though. They only think of the Dark Lords that've come out of Slytherin."

"Like He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named?"

"Exactly," I said, grimacing. "But the rumors are what spreads... I was friends with Neville before Hogwarts. I've known him since I was baby. His mother was my godmother... I tried to help him in Potions because I thought that that friendship was something that carried over despite our house loyalties. Evidently, I was mistaken."

There was silence for a long time. Daphne, not having anything to add to the conversation at this point, returned to her transfiguration assignment. I was about to do the same when Hermione spoke.

"Thank you," she said sincerely, smiling a little sadly. "... I don't know why those rumors exist if there are still Slytherins like you. You're the first person so far who's bothered having a conversation with me."

"Don't mention it," I chuckled. "As in, you probably shouldn't talk about it or I could get into serious trouble with my housemates because a lot of them personify the nastier rumors."

"Okay then..."

"And Hermione? Just a tip," I said, opening my herbology book to get a jump on the next chapter. "Tone it down in class. I know that you're really happy to be learning about magic and all, but you're not doing yourself any favors with your classmates from what I saw. Let other people try to answer the question, then give it a shot."

"You think that'll help?" Hermione asked hopefully. Daphne looked up with a tired sigh.

"Honestly, Granger, you made me feel stupid for not knowing that bezoar thing and I'm the heir to one of the wealthiest neutral families in Great Britain. And if you repeat those words to anyone, I shall deny them and exact my revenge slowly and painfully... Even Cor didn't answer until she was asked directly and she's insufferable when it comes to potions." Daphne returned attention to her books, falling silent. I grinned at her.

"Potions run in my blood; what can I say?" That was actually true, in a sense. My family hadn't begun as particularly wealthy and then one of my ancestors, experimenting with highly dangerous poisons, stumbled upon and invented Amortentia. Since then, it's been family tradition to teach botany and then potion-making from a very young age. I learned how to tend to a garden and then make basic potions from my own ingredients starting when I was six. I was already expecting herbology to be a cinch.

Seeing Hermione's confused expression, I had mercy on her. She didn't seem to be very good at handling not knowing a piece of information.

"My family gained prominence after one of my ancestors invented Amortentia, the strongest love potion in existence, so it's sort of a tradition to educate the kids on potions before starting school."

"I wish I'd gotten that," Hermione frowned. "I think potions is going to be my worst class."

"I could have my mom mail in my old botany books if you'd like. The hardest thing about potions is learning how the ingredients work together. Once you learn that, it's sort of like math."

"You'd really do that for me?"

"I suppose." Hermione's happy brown eyes were beginning to make me uncomfortable, like I was suddenly her favorite person in the world. "But don't make a scene about it, okay?"

"Oh, right. Your house," Hermione said, nodding briskly before jumping up. "Oh, I've been here too long! I told Neville that I'd visit him in the hospital wing to make sure he's okay!" Hefting her books into her arms as if they were weightless, Hermione said her goodbyes quickly and quietly before fleeing the library.

"You make the strangest of allies, Corinne," Daphne informed me dryly. Staring at Hermione's quickly retreating back, I shook my head.

"It seems I do."

"Quidditch tryouts are tomorrow," a voice said quite close to my ear. I turned to see Marcus Flint standing over me. I sighed, lowering my fork. I was just getting started with dinner.

"What time do you want me?" I asked patiently. Draco, a little further down the table, scowled.

"Cor's a first year," he said rather loudly. "She's not allowed to try out."

"First years aren't allowed to have their own brooms," Flint corrected, shaking his head. "She's borrowing Bass's for try outs. And, depending on how she does, he'll order a new broom and give her the old one. Isn't that right, Bassy?"

"Don't call me that," my brother said, not even glancing up from his chicken. "But yes, that sounds right to me."

Draco's scowl deepened but I didn't shy away when his glare met my eyes. Pansy I could make an enemy of; I couldn't let Draco think that I was a potential enemy. He'd be too strong down the line as Lord Malfoy.

"I don't think I'll make it... Maybe we both can try out next year," I offered. Draco's glare subsided and he returned his attention to dinner, mumbling under his breath. I resisted a relieved sigh.

"Good thing we finished our homework before dinner," Daphne muttered to me. "Otherwise I'd be stuck inside while you showed off your stuff."

"Does that mean you're coming to the tryouts?"

"It's that or find Hermione Granger and have a riveting conversation on house elf rights," Daphne said dryly. I laughed.

The Quidditch pitch was almost silent as the returning and hopeful members of the Slytherin house team gathered up their equipment. Sebastian, calm as ever, absently threw a quaffle in the air, catching it casually before throwing it up again.

I was the only first year on the pitch, but a couple of brave second years were also trying out. The rest of the twenty or so students on the pitch were all third years or older, making me feel tiny in their shadows.

I glanced behind me to the stands. Along with some older students, each of the other first year Slytherins were there, ready to watch as I either made the team or made a fool out of myself. Pansy in particular had a malicious grin on her face as she snuggled as close as she could get to Draco. I glanced to Daphne. My friend nodded encouragingly.

"Alright," Flint began, his voice rumbling over the assembled returnees and hopefuls. "You know the rules. Just because you were in last year doesn't mean you're guaranteed a spot. We're looking for only the best.

"We've got a seven year win streak going against the others and I do not want to lose that now. Got it?" No one spoke but it was sufficiently clear. "Alright. This is how this works. You each try out for each position. I tell you what your best at. If there's more than just you in that category when we're done with everyone, we narrow it down. To start, we're doing keepers."

Needless to say, I was bluntly reminded exactly why Sebastian was the keeper in our family. Out of the ten tosses that were made by Flint, I only managed to block four and two of those was more luck than skill.

After that, Flint ordered for the bludgers to be released and we were tested to see if there were any surprise beaters in the mix. I never got hit by a bludger, but I discovered that I was much better at dodging the damn things than I was hitting them.

"Alright. Chasing," Flint said with a grin. Chasing was Flint's expertise. He set Sebastian to guarding the posts and then had each one of us try our hand at scoring while Flint did his best to knock us off course by intentionally swerving into us or trying to swipe the quaffle. I fared fairly well in this category, earning four out of ten goals. It was hard for anyone who tried to get a goal out of Sebastian, even if he wasn't using his own broom. The best chaser that wasn't Flint himself only got six out of the ten goals.

By the end of the chasing, I was getting tired. My arms were starting to get sore after trying to avoid the bludgers and my head was pounding from a tight corkscrew maneuver that I had to take when Flint fly at me from my blind side. Despite all that, I was excited.

Sebastian was the keeper, Damien was a chaser, and I was the seeker. Seeking was where I shone, where I could outfly and outmaneuver anyone in my way to get at that tiny little snitch.

When Flint announced that we would begin the seeking tryouts, I was almost bouncing on the balls of my feet.

"You ready, sis?" Sebastian asked me quietly. I turned to see him grinning at me. I opened my mouth to respond when Flint called my name. I looked at him to see a small gold ball in his hand that I recognized immediately. He held it up for me to see, keeping a careful grip on it.

"Corinne! You're up. I'm going to release the snitch. On three, you go and catch it as fast as you can. Then bring it back."

"Understood," I nodded, getting on the borrowed broom and hovering just a few feet so I wouldn't be starting at nothing. Flint released the snitch and I watched as it zoomed away.

"One... Two... Three!" And I was off.

Sebastian had just gotten a new broom- a Nimbus 2000, no less!- for becoming a prefect and the new broom was fantastic. It responded to the slightest touch or lean as if it were connected directly to me. I rocketed off of the ground, getting twenty, then forty, then sixty feet up in the air before I slowed to a stop, scanning the air for that telltale glint of gold.

There!

Spotting the snitch was only half of the battle, though. I dived directly towards the sand, leaning into the dive as I almost fell into where the snitch was, ready to pull up at a moment's notice. The glint shifted and I pulled back, ten feet from the ground, and spiralled up once more, eyes locked on the delicate snitch that was getting closer and closer, so close that I could reach out and-

"Got it!" I shouted to no one in particular as my gloved hand clasped around the fluttering ball. In the warmth of my palm, the ball retracted its delicate wings, returning to its neutral state as I righted myself and held my arm up in victory.

With a grin on my face, I flew back to where Flint and the others were waiting, holding the snitch in front of me victoriously.