Notes:

Eep! I'm trying to post the first few chapters as soon as possible so that any readers can get a sense of the actual plotline. I'm still editing as I go along, but I apologise in advance for any mistakes.

As always: follow, favourite and review, review, review.

Monday 1st September

Ok. Calm. Deep breaths. It was almost time.

I'd watched this years First Year students get sorted by the hat, feeling too nervous to even appreciate the sheer ridiculous spectacle of an apparently sentient hat that was brought out once a year in order to sing a song and shout words. Words which appeared to play a great role in defining the next seven years of an individual's life.

From what I'd been told, the house that you were sorted into could make or break you as a witch or wizard. Gryffindor, and you'd get a reputation for reckless heroics. Ravenclaw, and you'd pretty much had NERD stamped on your forehead in indelible ink. Hufflepuffs were, by all accounts, lovely but a bit dim.

Slytherins were an... interesting house.

Dumbledore had put it in the kindest of terms, but the house I was about to be sorted in to was known, above all else, for evil, racism and ruthless ambition. To put it simply, if you heard of a British wizard who'd commited some awful crime, you knew he was a Slytherin.

Genocide? Rape? Murder? Corruption, extortion?

Slytherin.

Just my luck, that.

From my position behind the curtain that divided a side passage from the Great Hall, I had watched the faces of eleven year-old children flicker with fear, disappointment and glee as their houses were announced. Now Dumbledore had stood up from his seat at the professor's table, and was poised, about to speak.

He cleared his throat, and silence fell instantaneously.

'I am pleased to announce that we have another new student joining us this year. As her circumstances are rather unusual, Miss Sophia Nagornichna will be joining Hogwarts in her seventh year.'

You could almost see the ripples as a wave of surprise went through the mass of students sat in the hall. The table with the silver and green banners above it appeared to show the most interest, many of the students becoming very animated in discussing the announcement.

Dumbledore had predicted this. A member of the Nagornichna estate was apparently big news in pureblood terms, and every Slytherin student of note would be playing a political role on behalf of their parents in how they received it.

Dumbledore coughed, and the hall fell silent again.

'I would like to invite Miss Nagornichna to take part in the sorting ceremony.'

Another murmur went through the hall, this time seeming to come almost entirely from the Slytherin table.

A black haired Slytherin boy stood up, to the cheers of his classmates, and shouted

'Why bother? She's obviously ours!'

Offering a winning grin to the students around him, he bowed theatrically and sat down again.

Laughter spread around the hall. Professor Dumbledore, for his part, appeared unaffected.

As the hall grew silent again, this time in anticipation, I realised that this was my cue to walk forwards. I had to go out there, in front of everyone, and climb the rickety stairs to the platform where the Sorting Hat was perched atop a chair.

As I stepped forward, I became conscious of all eyes on the room staring at me. I felt my heartbeat hammering in my ears, incredibly loud, and tried to focus on moving each foot in front of the other. The last thing I needed was to fall over, but I was shaking so hard that it felt almost inevitable at this point.

Thankfully, some miracle allowed me to retain my balance.

Reaching the chair, after what felt like an eternity but was in reality a quick walk of a few metres, I lifted the grubby, battered hat, and, sitting down, placed it gingerly atop my head.

'Oh, hello. Dumbledore warned me about you.'

I'd been told about the hat's voice, but it still somehow came as a shock. Magic still seemed completely unreal, and this incredibly beaten up talking accessory was just the latest in a series of things that I didn't quite believe in, even though I was seeing them first hand.

'Not believe in me? Oh, I'm real. As real as magic itself, and nearly as old.'

'What happens now?', I thought at the hat,

'Don't you already know where I'm meant to be?'

'Oh, of course. Dumbledore told me. It does some good to put on a little show, though, make a delay. Even if its just to shock that presumptuous Zabini.'

The hat sounded old, and kind of crotchety.

'Just as arrogant as he was when I sorted him, six years ago.'

'Zabini?'

'He's the one who shouted. Doubted my ability, the little fool.'

I heard what I can only describe as the sound of a hat sighing, all dusty ancient fabric and annoyance.

'Though he's right to think that I'll sort you in to SLYTHERIN!' the hat concluded, shouting the last word out to the entire hall.

As cheering broke out from the Slytherin tables, some members of the other houses clapped, but most just stared at me. Whether with interest or repulsion, I couldn't tell.

When I came to the closest end of a Slytherin table, I saw a group of students who looked about my age, one of them the black haired boy- Zabini. He was sat next to a pale boy with blonde hair, who upon seeing me approach shoved his neighbour to the side and gestured for me to sit down between them.

This must be Malfoy. Dumbledore had said that I should try to befriend him, so I sat down and turned to him with a smile. He looked back at me with a clear expression of appraisal.

'Nagornichna. Pleased to make your acquaintance. I am Draco Malfoy, heir to the Malfoy family.'

'This,' he said, gesturing to Zabini, 'Is Blaise Zabini. I think you'll find that I'm a very useful person to know in this school, and in wizarding society at large. Zabini- well, he's alright.'

He smirked at this last point. I smiled back politely, and turned to the food that had just appeared on the table in front of us, glad to have an excuse not to talk.


1st September, the 7th year girl's dormitories, Slytherin Dungeons

'Hi. I'm... Sophia Nagornichna,'

I faltered, remembering that 'hi' was probably too casual for a first introduction to a fellow member of pureblood society, then tripping over my new name as I cursed myself for this slip.

I'd learnt the previous day that while I had status among these people simply by virtue of the heritage that I claimed, my identity as pureblood heiress would only be believed if I followed the many rules of etiquette that governed the behaviour of pureblood wizards and witches.

When Dumbledore had explained the main rules to me (which centred around formality, maintaining impeccable behaviour when out in public, and making sure to assert your status over anyone who was considering 'below' you), I'd been reminded strongly of what I knew about Victorian society from history class (which, admittedly, wasn't much).

The girl I'd just adressed, who stood in front of me at the entrance to my room, was strikingly beautiful.

She had a combination of wide emerald eyes and shoulder length wavy black hair that brought to mind stories of faery princesses. (Although, judging by how the last few days had been going, it was probably only a matter of time until someone told me that faeries existed.) Her facial structure was similarly incredible, with impossibly high cheekbones and the kind of small, dark red pouting lips that can reduce grown men to simpering idiots.

'I'm Pansy Parkinson. Pleased to meet you.'

She smiled, giving me the kind of scrutinising look that I'd already grown used to receiving from Slytherin students.

I had found this room with the help of a younger girl who I'd met in the Slytherin common room, where everyone had gone after dinner.

Dinner had been nervewracking. I'd avoided talking about myself as much as possible, still rather unfamiliar with the details of my back story, and just listened to everyone else catching up on gossip and discussing the details of their class schedules.

Luckily, as far as I could tell, my silence had been taken as mysterious rather than a sign of something suspicious. When, in response to a question about my reasons for coming to England, I'd just smiled, Malfoy had winked at me. My breath had caught in my throat for a moment, unused as I was to receiving this kind of attention from boys.

On the way to the common room, he'd walked behind me, and about halfway there I felt him lean towards me and whisper,

'You're very clever, aren't you? Don't worry, though. I like quiet, mysterious girls. It just makes it more of a challenge.'

He'd then swept ahead of me, before I'd even had time to react.

'I suppose you're our new room mate.'

Parkinson's voice brought me out of my reverie. She stepped to the side of the doorway, letting me enter. As I walked into the room, she steered me by the elbow and, in a low voice, introduced the other two girls in the room.

'This is Daphne Greengrass,' she said, gesturing towards a brunette girl, 'and this is Tracey David', waving towards a girl with honey coloured hair, who looked almost as nervous as I felt.

I walked in, immediately spotting my trunk lying by the bed closest to the window on the far side of the room. Though I was deliberately just looking at my own things as I unpacked the trunk, I could feel the stares of the three girls on me.

Trying not to fumble, I opened the trunk and looked at what was inside. Since I'd arrived at Hogwarts with no possessions, and nothing that I had owned in my previous life was suitable for a pureblood, Dumbledore had provided me with school supplies and a set of tailored robes, some tailored casual clothes as well as a dozen dresses that, although I didn't know where they were from, looked incredibly expensive.

I could hear the other girls in the room start to settle in, chatting about their families and where they had been over the summer. As Pansy launched into a story about her holiday in the Caribbean, involving a gorgeous wizard she'd met in a magical nightclub, I went to the bathroom and got ready for bed.

Coming back into the room, wearing a lace-and-silk nightgown like the one that I'd woken up in the day before, I tried to block out her incredibly graphic description of a night she'd spent with the wizard.

This was odd. I'd been told that pureblood society placed a high value on virginity at marriage, and strongly disapproved of any discussions of sex, but these girls seemed entirely comfortable talking about the men they'd met on holiday.

I got into bed, and, drawing the curtains around me, tried to figure out if I'd witnessed any other unexpected behaviour so far. If this piece of knowledge was wrong, I may have been misinformed on other issues. Who knew how many social faux pas I could have made already?