Harry opened her eyes and yawned. She was elegant as the princesses in the movies, at least, she tried to be. The curtains around her bed were still closed, no light in her small area. It was oddly comforting, the pitch-blackness engulfing her; it sorta reminded her of her cupboard at the Dursley's. Harry suddenly didn't like the enclosed, dark space anymore.

She reached a hand over and pulled the curtains aside. The feel of the cloth was just a little rougher than her dress' material. It was nice, except for the fact that they were red and gold. Blue or green would have suited her better. Uhg, I wish I had taken The Sorting Hat up on his offer. I hate these colours.

Harry kicked off the fluffy, and heavy blankets. Her long, lanky legs were covered by a long, light blue pair of flannel pants. There were a few small holes here and there, but they were wonderful. Especially since she bought them herself.

Her stomach started to rumble and Harry wished she would have eaten last night. ...Thank Merlin for Neville, she thought as she went to get the food the clumsy boy had gotten her.

The Girl-Who-Lived

She sat at breakfast, picking at her yellow scrambled eggs. Harry tried to block out the noise the rest of the Gryffindor table was making. It was giving her a headache. Harry didn't want to know if Percy was gay or not, or if Fred had been caught sneaking off with a Chaser. She just wanted peace.

"Harry?" Hermione poked her in the shoulder.

"What, 'Mione?" she said to her friend. Setting down her fork on the golden plates, she decided she didn't want to eat for a few minutes.

"Sh," the bushy haired girl muttered, "Don't look now, but Quirrell is staring in your direction."

Harry wasn't sure what to do with the new information. "Thanks. Oh," she took a small breath and let it out, "I got a gift for you. Meet me in the Common Room after History of Magic." She was internally flinched, that sounded creepy.

"Okay," Harry was one hundred percent sure Hermione was biting her bottom lip.

No one talked to Harry for a couple of minutes. Leaving the girl to decide if she actually wanted some more food. It was a long few minutes, before the final decision made. She was going to grab a snack. Just in case. Harry reached out her left hand to grab a napkin. When she grasped the paper, she shrieked. A small snake was sitting on top of the pile of napkins. Its shiny, slimy skin was gleaming in the Great Hall's light.

Harry didn't really notice that the majority of the students and staff were looking at her; she was too busy staring at the scary, red snake.

Ron grabbed her shoulder tightly, "What in the name of bloody hell is wrong, mate? You screamed a bit like a girl, you did." His voice was worried, then had this joking tone.

Harry blushed, her cheeks turning a pretty pink. "Look," she whispered, her right hand pointing at the creature. "It's a snake." Ron's hand gripped on her shoulder too tight. A bruise was going to form

"What's wrong?" The Scottish accented professor called out. Her seating arrangement on the staff table was next to Dumbledore. Giving her even more power than she had alone.

"Oh," one of the Weasley twins called out, "Nothing, Professor! Harry was just surprised by a joke!"

Suddenly, Harry felt stupid.

The Girl-Who-Lived

The trio got to Snape's class early so they could sit together. Hermione led them to the row in the very back of the classroom. The black paint that had previously been on the desks was chipped off. Words that were written with nails were barely readable. She could heat the dripping of a pipe in the corner.

After she slung the strap to her bag on the stool, she sat down. Harry always did that, so someone couldn't steal her bag.

Ron and Hermione sat on either side of her. Hermione was pulling out quills and pieces of parchment for them to take notes; Ron set up all their cauldrons and potion supplies. Harry had to do a bit of quiet spellwork. Taking her wand out of her robes, she muttered, "Ignis Probat." So now their desks wouldn't catch on fire. It wasn't really a needed for Harry to do that, but after Neville set his desk aflame... well, she didn't feel like taking chances.

"Scutum Poculum." Now, with those little flashes of purple light, their potions were protected. Malfoy and his cronies couldn't try anything now...

She went through her brain, trying to see if anymore spells would help.

It was dreadfully cold, but a heating charm was likely to make another fire happen, or a potion explode. She sighed, it was going to be a long and freezing lesson.

The Girl-Who-Lived

Hey! Thank you, readers, for your reviews!

Lily Potter-chan: Actually that would have been a good way to start off... Well, hopefully, this chapter pleases you. More things will happen after this lesson.

So... I got a request. If you would please go to my profile, there is a poll. I need people to vote!

~Sabrina