Chapter Six: Natural Selection

Life at Hogwarts felt to Willow like a study in Darwinism: she had to adapt and evolve or she would be left behind and forgotten. A simple example was that no one in her house – and she suspected the entire school – had heard of Charles Darwin, and they looked at her funnily when she mentioned him and his theory of evolution. She'd heard a few of the older students talking about 'the weird first year' like some sort of curious oddity, but thankfully she had Draco to help her through everything.

Draco Malfoy was a nice boy who seemed to go out of his way to be nice to Willow, even when older Slytherins started to bully her. A simple mention of 'my father' from Draco was enough to send most students away. Part of Willow thought that it seemed rather bully-ish, but he was doing it to protect her, wasn't he?

But even Draco couldn't deny that even with all of the other students from non-magical families at Hogwarts, Willow was simply not doing well in her classes. The incantations and wand movements were simple enough, but they just didn't seem to work for Willow. She knew she ought to try simply concentrating on what she wanted to happen, but doing that while also doing the 'proper spell' was harder than she thought it would be. And Willow didn't want to be laughed at as 'wandless.'

She also had yet to tell anyone in Slytherin that neither of her parents had been magical. She'd heard enough students retracing their lineages and comparing them for Willow to realize that she would be even more hopelessly out of place if she were to start advertising her lack of magical heritage.

People seemed to have trouble finding their classes, which was understandable given how the school kept changing itself, literally. Stairways would move, classrooms would disappear and reappear, hallways would merge and separate. Even more strangely, Willow could sense what was what and which way led where. It felt like she was back at the wand shop, when all the wands had been talking to her. The school seemed to do the same, with just as many different voices, if not more. It wasn't something she consciously did, but she just knew somehow that the school was alive.

The teachers were mostly nice and fair. Professor Flitwick was easily her favorite teacher. He was gentle and kind, but also very smart. Whenever Willow inevitably failed to get a result in his class, he would encourage her and advise her on how to do better. Even if she hadn't made any progress in her first week, she was grateful to him for that.

Professor McGonagall was kind of nice, but she was also very strict, and she didn't tolerate any goofing around. She'd taken five points from Slytherin because of Draco's two friends - Crabbe and Goyle – who she accused of not devoting themselves to the class. They were another mystery to Willow. Why someone as smart and charming as Draco Malfoy would surround himself with two obvious idiots was beyond her.

Professor Sprout was also nice and fair, but she was quick to warn them of the many things that could go wrong in her class if they didn't pay attention. Willow was shocked to see some of the plants almost act alive, like animals. Herbology was one of the classes she did best in, probably because it required little to no use of a wand. Then again, she'd only had the one lessons so far.

So far, she'd had classes with her fellow Slytherins always, and sometimes with Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs, too. She'd caught sight of Tara in Transfiguration on the other side of the room. They'd been able to exchange a wave and a smile, but not much more.

Willow was really looking forward to Friday, when she'd have her first and only class with Gryffindor House, where she'd hopefully get to see Ron and Neville. Maybe Harry Potter, too. He'd seemed quite nice as well. Only Draco disagreed. Vehemently.

"Potter?" he said violently when Willow brought the matter up on their way to class. "What could you possibly see in him, Willow?"

She shrugged in response. "He was just nice, is all. Seemed sort of overwhelmed by everything, just like me. I only met him once at the Welcome Feast, but he was nice. Why? Do you not like him?"

Draco scowled. "It's just that everyone talking in the halls about 'Potter this' and 'Potter that.' He was raised by Muggles, too, can you believe that! Harry Potter, raised by Muggles, and everyone thinks he's so amazing."

Now, Willow was starting to get a bit worried. "W-what's so wrong with being raised without magic?"

"What's wrong with it?" Draco looked appalled. "If you're raised without our values, knowing our history… Our culture is going downhill enough as it is with all of the mudbloods pouring in through Hogwarts and growing up to become 'real wizards.' Psht. We're better than they are, and don't you ever think otherwise."

Willow only kept walking because she was too shocked to stop. So, Draco Malfoy was just like Voldemort. He thought that magic was superior, and that anyone without it was dirt. He even looked like a Nazi, now that Willow truly looked at him. Very Aryan with his pale hair and eyes. She didn't know what she was going to do, but she knew she had to be very careful around him. His father was someone important, if he was to be believed, and she did believe that he could make her life miserable if she gave him reason to do so.

Filing into the classroom in the dungeons where Professor Snape held his Potions classes, Willow took her seat a bit closer to the middle of the classroom than she had before. It was almost always that the other houses sat on the opposite side of the classroom from her own house. It hadn't seemed like much before, but Willow suddenly had an urge to get as close as she could to her family and friends. People she hadn't seen in a week, but who she trusted and cared for.

The Gryffindor students came in a short while later. Willow caught sight of Neville and waved to him. He smiled in return and took a seat close to hers. A few moments later, Ron and Harry Potter came in. She waved to them also, but while Harry smiled a strange little smile at her, Ron pointedly looked away and tried to sit as far away from her as he could.

Something obviously showed on her face, because Neville was leaning over in an instant. "Hey. Willow? Is everything okay? You look sad."

She was sad. Very sad. The brother who said he could never hate her was now pointedly ignoring her as if she'd done something horrible to him. "I guess so," she said softly. "H-how was your first week of classes?"

Neville shrugged. "Okay, I guess. Messed up a lot of stuff pretty badly. Liked Herbology, though."

Willow smiled. "Me too."

Just then, the door slammed open to admit Professor Snape, his black robes billowing out behind him like something grand and fearsome. Willow had only seen him once, at the Welcome Feast, but he seemed immediately as strict as McGonagall, only not as nice.

He started by taking the roll call, drawing out each name as if to make it seem like a threat. The students all seemed to take this as best they could. But then…

"Ah, yes. Harry Potter. Our new celebrity."

Some giggling off to Willow's right caught her attention, and she saw Draco and his two flunkies laughing at Harry's obvious discomfort. Her opinion of Draco Malfoy went down another notch.

Thankfully, Snape left a long enough pause after each name for Willow to regain her composure when he called her name immediately after Harry's. She raised one hand slightly to acknowledge her presence and then shut her mouth as tight as she could. This teacher was one she didn't want to upset, even if he hadn't been her head of her house.

After the last students names were taken, he set the list down and started to speak. Willow had her quill and parchment out just in case he started with a lecture right off the bat. By now, it wouldn't surprise her. And besides, she wanted to learn, and missing something important on the first lesson would not be good for her academic career.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making." He spoke so softly, but the rest of the class was so silent that he didn't need to raise his voice. Willow was simultaneously scared and impressed. "As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic." Willow smiled to herself at the lack of 'foolish wand-waving.' "I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses…"

Willow was fully attentive by now. This was like all of her other classes. One false step and things might literally blow up in her face. Either Snape was exaggerating the power of potions, or he was trying to teach his students proper respect for the class. Either way, the speech was impressive.

"I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death – if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

Willow almost felt like he was personally challenging her. Well, all of the students, but she felt specifically challenged to prove him wrong. There was one other girl, a Gryffindor with bushy brown hair, who looked similarly eager.

"Potter!" Snape snapped at the nice Gryffindor boy, "what would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Willow didn't know if Snape actually expected any of them to know the answers, and she felt like he was picking on Harry specifically for some reason. He had commented on his 'celebrity' earlier. There was something there that she was missing. But that would have to wait. There was a question, and she was scribbling it down, ready to take any notes that this semi-lecture might lead to.

Not noticing the eager Gryffindor girl's hand in the air as she wrote, Willow did make out Harry saying, "I don't know, sir."

Willow felt that was certainly fair. It was only the first class, after all.

But Snape clearly didn't agree. "Tut tut. Fame clearly isn't everything."

Willow felt her hackles rise. She knew bullying when she heard it, and it was clear that Snape was bullying Harry Potter. Why didn't matter: there was never any excuse for bullying, teacher or not.

"Let's try again. Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"

And again, Harry replied, "I don't know, sir." He seemed reasonably calm considering Snape's obvious disdain for him.

"Thought you wouldn't open a book before coming, eh, Potter?"

That was so not fair! Willow finished scribbling the question and set her eyes on the black-clad professor, as if she could make him stop his bullying just by looking at him. Off to one side, she noticed the bushy-haired girl with her hand high in the air.

"What is the difference, Potter," Snape continued, "between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

"I don't know," Harry said for a third time. "I think Hermione does, though. Why don't you try her?"

Some students laughed, but Willow wondered to herself why Snape hadn't simply called on the other girl?

"Sit down!" Snape snapped at Hermione. "For your information, Potter, asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of Living Death." Score! Notes to be taken! "A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat and it will save you from most poisons." Good to know."As for monkshood and wolfsbane, they are the same plant, which also goes by the name of aconite. Well? Why aren't you all copying that down? Miss Rosenberg seems to be the only one here competent enough to keep her mind on her studies."

Everyone was suddenly rummaging for their quills and parchment, and Willow felt herself glow with pride that she had managed to earn a compliment from the teacher, even if it was a rather backhanded one. "And a point will be taken from Gryffindor House for your cheek, Potter," Snape added over the noise. "Also, a point will be awarded to Slytherin House for your studiousness, Rosenberg."

Willow felt simultaneously proud and ashamed. Her friends and brothers were in Gryffindor. While she was glad she had done something right, she didn't want it to feel like it had been at their expense.

Snape then went around and started putting them all into pairs. It was only after everyone else had been paired up that Willow realized that there were an odd number of students in the class, and she was the last one left.

"You will work on your own for this class, Miss Rosenberg. After your earlier display of competence, I want to see how you progress without assistance."

Willow thought that this was absurd, and that she could just as easily be put into a group of three. But then a little voice whispered inside her head. 'This is a chance to prove yourself,' it said. 'A chance to show that you stand above the rest, and that it doesn't matter that you grew up without magic. You'll show them all.'

With a simple nod and a "Yes, sir," Willow set to work on her potion, which was supposedly a cure for boils. It was remarkably like chemistry. You just had to be very exact with your measurements and your movements, or else it would all go to hell. At least, it seemed that way.

First step was to sort her ingredients. Willow looked at the list on the blackboard and started by setting aside what she needed and then cutting and measuring before she even started her mixture. She noticed that some of the ingredients had to be added at a certain time, and she wanted to be ready.

Next, she had to heat her cauldron. Thankfully, there were fires already going, so she didn't have to risk making her own just yet. She assumed that Professor Snape didn't expect them to be able to handle fire just yet. It was probably a smart thing, too. On either side of her was Draco, working with someone named Blaise, and on her other side was Neville working with someone she thought might have been called Seamus. Harry and Ron were just on the other side of Neville, and Ron was making a point of not looking at her.

Willow steeled herself and concentrated on the potion. She didn't want to mess things up and injure someone. After much stirring and stewing and ingredient adding, her potion was finally starting to come together. She felt proud of herself for not messing anything up – yet – but she did notice that Snape was making a habit of criticizing pretty much everyone except for Draco, who kept getting lavish praise from the professor. Her opinion of Snape would have gone down if he hadn't seemed so intelligent earlier. Like Ron, Snape seemed to make a point of ignoring her, though she couldn't say why in either case.

Willow was waiting to add some stewed horned slugs – the potion had to turn a pale blue first – when she caught Neville out of the corner of her eye about to add some porcupine quills to his potion. She'd done that step a few minutes ago, only when she had done it…"

"Neville, wait!"

"What? Willow, what is it?"

"Take your cauldron off the fire first. If you add the quills first, well, I dunno what'll happen, but I get the feeling that tiny mistakes do a lot in this class."

"Good catch, Rosenberg, was it?" Seamus said.

"Uh, yeah. Call me Willow," she said with a shy smile.

"Thanks, Willow," the two boys said before taking their potion off the fire. Even when the quills were added, it was clear that their potion wasn't as good as hers had been at that stage. Rather, it was different. She only thought she was managing her potion well enough.

Her potion turned pale blue, and she added the horned slugs and stirred. Three rotations clockwise, one rotation counter-clockwise, wait seventeen seconds, repeat. Thankfully, Willow had a wristwatch that she could use to count the seconds instead of doing it in her head.

The bell finally rang, but the Professor kept them back for him to inspect their work before cleaning up and sending them on their way. Willow's cauldron had been deemed 'satisfactory' in that soft drawl, which had initially put her on edge until she realized that compared to most of the rest of the class, it was high praise.

Draco was waiting for her by the classroom door as she packed up her bag. She really wanted to avoid him, but she might not have a choice in the matter.

But Snape saved her that trouble. "Mister Malfoy, go on ahead. Miss Rosenberg, pack up your things and then come to my office."

Willow breathed a sigh of relief as Draco spoke up. "Is something wrong, Professor," he asked. "Willow isn't in trouble, is she?"

"No, Draco. I promise to return Miss Rosenberg in one piece. Now, go."

The pale boy took the hint and left without another word. Willow said a silent thank you to whoever was listening and finished packing up her school bag. Professor Snape's office wasn't far from the classroom, and she found him quickly enough.

"Sit down, Miss Rosenberg."

Gulping with fear, Willow obeyed. The Potions Master did not sit, but he did look at her very carefully.

"You are rather unique amongst the student body here at Hogwarts, Miss Rosenberg. Can you tell me why that is?"

Willow got the feeling that he knew the answer to his question already, and he was testing Willow to see if she would be honest with him. And being honest seemed like a good idea in this case. "Um, I can think of a few things," she said quietly. "I'm not British, and I don't know if there are any other foreign students here. Or if there are, if there are any other Americans. Also, um… Well, my wand isn't really real. I do magic without a wand, only I've been trying to use a fake wand to blend in so that people don't hate me or think I'm a freak. Sir," she quickly added.

"I see." Professor Snape was unreadable. Willow had no idea what he was thinking. "I've received notes from your other teachers. You've been having difficulties with basic spells. This is not uncommon for new students, but your problems are far more basic than most have to deal with. Your competence in my class and in Professor Sprout's class do you credit, but if you wish to succeed at Hogwarts, you will have to embrace your magic in the form that it takes. As your head of house, I am telling you to stop pretending, Miss Rosenberg, and adapt to your situation so that you might thrive. I believe you referred to such a process as 'Darwinism' to your housemates."

Willow paled, not knowing how this man knew about her private conversations. But was he encouraging her or threatening her? Maybe both?

"You will no doubt be scrutinized unfairly by your peers for your unique talents. They will not understand the subtleties of magic that make things work the way they do, and will dismiss you as inferior. Whether such accusations prove to be true or false depends on how you handle your situation. If you falter, you will most assuredly be left behind."

Willow shivered under the black-eyed gaze of the Potions Master. "D-do the other professors know about this, sir?"

"They do," he acknowledged. He did not elaborate.

"Oh. Okay, then. Um, is there anything else, sir?"

"One more thing," Snape said slowly. He walked behind his desk, opened a drawer, and pulled out an envelope. "This was addressed to you, Miss Rosenberg, but it arrived after the morning post." He handed the envelope to Willow, who took it with a shivering hand.

"Th-thank you, sir."

Snape merely nodded. "You may go now."

Willow got up from her seat and left the teacher's office, heading back to her dormitory. It wasn't far, and even without her intuitive feel for the school's magic, she could find her way easily enough.

The patch of wall that was the entrance to the Slytherin common room was unadorned, but Willow would know the feel of it anywhere. "Gorgon's Gaze."

The wall slid open and Willow stepped inside. She had no idea who would be writing to her. Maybe her new mom and dad, or maybe Ginny. She'd have to write back to all three of them, no matter what was in the letter she held in her hand.

Draco was waiting for her. "Willow! Are you okay? What did Snape want?"

Willow wanted very much to ignore him, but she couldn't without drawing unwanted attention. "He just wanted to give me a letter that came late. I'm going to go read it now, okay? I guess I'll be back down for dinner in a bit. You can go on ahead without me if you're hungry."

"Thanks. I'll be seeing you, then."

Willow didn't understand how the Nazi boy could pretend to be so nice when she'd caught a glimpse of the ugliness hidden beneath.

The dormitory was empty when she arrived, but she still closed the curtains over her four-poster bed before she opened the letter. Inside was a letter and another envelope. She read the parchment letter first:

'Dear Willow,

Happy First Week! We hope you're enjoying yourself at Hogwarts and are doing well in your classes. Ginny's been missing you something fierce, and we hope you'll write back to her soon. She sends her warmest regards.

We recently received a letter from that man we met at the museum: Mister Giles. He said that he had managed to get in touch with your friends in Sunnydale, and that they had send a letter to you. We've forwarded it to you with this letter, and we hope that it makes your day.

Missing you and wishing you well.

Love,

Mum and Dad'

Willow felt immediately warm inside. Not only did her new parents want to wish her well, but they sent her a letter from home! Only now did she realize that the other letter was regular paper, not parchment. She tore it open and read it hungrily:

'Hey there, Willow!

So, you're not dead. At least, the strange British guy who showed up said you were alive and living with another family in England. I don't know why you didn't let us know sooner, but Giles or whatever his name was said you couldn't. But, now we're writing to you, and we miss you so much, Will.

It's been tough without you. We're getting by, but it was so hard, thinking you were dead. And your parents! Your real ones, not the new ones, I mean. I don't know how you deal with that. I know sometimes I wish my mom and dad would just die, but I don't think I really mean it. Neither of us do. (This is Xander writing the letter, in case the handwriting didn't give it away).

We hope you write back real soon, 'cause we miss you lots, Will. We love you, and we'll never let you forget it.

Your Friends Forever,

Xander and Jesse'

Willow knew she couldn't wait and immediately broke out her parchment and quill and began to reply to everyone. Separate letters, everyone would get their own. She loved them all too much not to write to them all. Her new mom and dad, Ginny, Jesse, and Xander. They all loved her, and she loved them. Even if she was alone at Hogwarts, she had loved ones waiting for her outside.

The cold night air was cozy and warm for Willow as she wrote lovingly to her true family.