god of all: I'm so glad you're enjoying it! I never understood why writers took their reviews so seriously until I started writing myself. It really does make you feel good. Also, does three months count as soon? For me, probably. However, now that school's out, I may have more time. Who knows? I also run Cross County, so there will most likely be days where I'm just too tired to do anything other than lay down and eat. (Because, wow, does that stuff make you hungry.)

Guest: You have a lot for me to reply to. Here goes.
1) I'm still not entirely sure what Snape's arc is going to be like in this story. However, if things do get out of hand, rest assured that our protagonist does know when pranks are appropriate or not. If it is not the time or the situation for pranks, there won't be one. At least, not from her. She's mature enough for that. Not as mature as some of her friends would like her to be, as seen here, but she is. She has to be.
2) Hmmm. I'm not really sure how to respond to this one. Luna and Susan will be making appearances later on in the story, but I'm not going to spoil much more. Beyond that, I have to say that my plans differ a little from yours.
3) Not sure of the best response for this one either. At all. I'm not saying you're wrong, because you aren't, but that's all I think of to say.
4) I do like stories that do that, but my only problem is that so many demigod Harrys do that. I have a personal thing about following what a lot of other people have done. I have a huge love of inverting and subverting tropes, as well as several stories planned out that are my twists on super popular (and overused) fan fiction premises. Although I am very tempted to do something with Pluto/Hades, so I'll be considering this. Hard.
5) I actually really, really like that. I can just so see him spreading the idea to the rest too, so there's just this silent revolution of 'we will visit our kids' going on beneath Zeus's nose.
6) That one is less used, so it's more likely, but I'm still not sure. However, this series takes the head-canon that Hecate is extremely fond of her Witches and Wizards, so you'll be seeing her sooner than you might think.
7) I seriously doubt that Chiron would let the year round campers not have any education, so Wylie's pretty much all caught up to where she would be in regular school. (I don't know the system in Britain, but in the States her first year of Hogwarts would be equivalent to 6th grade, since her birthday's in the summer) Also, I'm a firm believer in knowing both the Muggle and Magical worlds, so she'll have a high school diploma, at least.


Wylie threw her head back and groaned loudly. She was not in the mood for this. How had Hagrid been able to let it slip that Snape hated her and Gringotts had been robbed in less than 10 minutes, but not that she was going to have to deal with this?

"I don't want to do this," She grumbled under her breath. "I'm Poseidon's daughter. I don't fly. Who flies..." Lee rested his arm on her shoulder.

"Wylie, I spent the entire first week of school making you go where you were supposed to. I'm not gonna start doing it again." Wylie shot him a glare, but headed towards the Common Room door anyway.

"I don't have to like you."

"Mm."

"I really don't."

"Alright."

"Ugh!"


As Thursday approached, Wylie's attitude took an even worse turn. It seemed that she, Hermione, and Neville were the only ones not excited for the upcoming lessons. Malfoy chattered constantly about his narrow escapes from Muggles in helicopters, and how it was undeniably unfair that first years weren't allowed personal brooms. The former almost always ended in Lee dragging his friend away before she could snark about Malfoy 'not even knowing what a bloody freaking helicopter is.' He was 95 percent sure that she was restraining herself from saying a very different word that also started with an f.

Unfortunately, however, the world's most obnoxious Slytherin wasn't alone this time. Between him, Seamus Finnigan, and Ronald Weasley, one would think half the Wizards in Britain had spent their childhoods zooming around various manors or countrysides, and had nearly hit a mundane flying contraption at least once.

"Does the Wizarding World have any sports other than Quidditch?" Wylie commented later that week, flopping onto her bed.

"Unfortunately not." Hermione remarked idly from her own four-poster. The other girl stuck a bookmark in the spine of her latest endeavor, before setting it aside.

"Boys."

"But you see, the problem is that it's not just the boys." Wylie sighed. "I'd be perfectly content to talk about Quidditch, if that wasn't all they ever talked about. I actually quite like sports." Lavender giggled.

"You'll understand better once you see it." She commented. Hermione simply clicked her tongue.

"I doubt it."


However, despite her complaints, Thursday still found the daughter of the sea reluctantly making her way down the front steps with the rest of her house. The Slytherins were already there, as were twenty or so broomsticks.

"Well, what are you all waiting for?" Madam Hooch barked. "Everyone stand by a broomstick. Come on, hurry up." Once her directions had been followed, the hawk-eyed flight instructor continued. "Stick out your right hand over your broom, and say 'Up!'"

To Wylie's long lasting surprise, her broom jumped into her hand at once, but it was one of the few that did. Perhaps brooms are like horses, she thought. I can say from experience that they know when you're scared. Hermione and Neville's voices both gave them away easily. Did hers not?

Seemingly disregarding the rather large number of students who hadn't succeeded, Madam Hooch then showed them how to mount their brooms, and corrected their grips. Wylie tried her best not to feel vindictive glee as Malfoy was bluntly informed he'd been doing it wrong for years.

"Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard," said Madam Hooch. "Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet, and then come straight back down by leaning forward slightly. On my whistle — three — two —"

But Neville, nervous and jumpy, pushed off before the whistle blew.

"Come back, boy!" Madam Hooch shouted, but Neville didn't seem to have any control at the moment. Wylie saw him look down, gasp, and slip sideways off the broom in a way that had her looking away far before he hit the ground. The broomstick drifted out of sight.

Madam Hooch bent over Neville, her face as white as his.

"Broken wrist," Wylie heard her mutter. "Come on, boy — it's all right, up you get."

She turned to the rest of the class.

"None of you is to move while I take this boy to the hospital wing! You leave those brooms where they are or you'll be out of Hogwarts before you can say 'Quidditch.' Come on, dear."

No sooner were the two out of earshot than Malfoy burst into laughter.

"Did you see his face, the great lump?"

"Shut up, Malfoy," snapped Parvati Patil.

"Ooh, sticking up for Longbottom?" said Pansy Parkinson, a hard-faced Slytherin girl. "Never thought you'd like fat little crybabies, Parvati."

"Look!" said Malfoy, darting forward and snatching something out of the grass. "It's that stupid thing Longbottom's gran sent him. I think I'll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to find — how about — up a tree?"

Wylie's sight went red.


The next thing Wylie knew was being ten feet up in the air, the increased wind speeds whipping her robes around behind her. She realized with a start, with no idea why, that this was wonderfully easy.

Malfoy didn't seem to have noticed her yet.

"Give me the Remembrall," She called, "or I'll knock you off that broom!"

"Oh, yeah?" said Malfoy, trying to sneer.

Wylie leaned forward, and the broom shot forward. Malfoy only just got out of the way in time, looking more and more nervous as Wylie turned sharply to face him.

"No one up here to save your neck, Malfoy," She smirked.

"Catch it if you can, then!" he shouted. Seems he hadn't thought she'd take the challenge.

Wylie dived, steep and fast with the wind whistling in her ears— a foot from the ground, she leveled the broom once more, and toppled onto the grass, Neville's Remembrall clutched safely in her fist.

"WYLIE POTTER!"

Professor McGonagall. Perfect.

"Never — in all my time at Hogwarts —"

The one teacher she'd most wanted to impress was nigh speechless, glasses flashing furiously.

"— how dare you — might have broken your neck —"

"It wasn't his fault, Professor —"

"Be quiet, Miss Patil —"

"But Malfoy —"

"That's enough, Mr. Weasley. Potter, follow me, now." Wylie caught sight of Malfoy's victorious expression as she left. Checking to make sure Professor McGonagall wasn't looking first, she turned around, and unashamedly flipped him off.

Regrettably, even the taunting of her least favorite peer couldn't shake the feeling of walking the plank. Every step through the castle felt like one inch closer to the edge. Though what exactly was at the edge, Wylie still didn't know yet. If she got expelled, she would never get over it. Not for something like this. She groaned silently, running a hand through her hair. Impulse control was not her forte.

"Follow me, you two," said Professor McGonagall. Wylie looked up in surprise, not having noticed the burly older boy join them. She studied him for a second, noting his bemusement. Then she sighed quietly, and chose to look away.

Gods, I hate it when the ones I like get disappointed in me. She's just as bad as Chiron.

"In here."

After ousting a rather infuriated Peeves, Professor McGonagall slammed the door shut and turned to face her puzzled students.

"Potter, this is Oliver Wood. Wood — I've found you a Seeker."


I know, I know! Just wait. The explanation comes next chapter, I promise. Which I'll do my best to have up faster. My new goal is one a month. Whether I'll make it or not, I don't know, but I will try.

Also, my experiences bled into this chapter a lot. Wylie's relationship with Professor McGonagall is largely based off my own with my middle school history teacher. She was quite possibly my favorite teacher in that entire school, and actually turned out to be exactly the kind of instructor I needed. However, I had a tendency to assume she was disappointed in me, especially the first year, and I hated it so, so, much. Now, granted, Wylie doesn't have that problem, but her thoughts after flipping Malfoy off to the end are actually most likely mine.

By the way, please note: the few times Wylie gets angry enough to snap, it often drives her to do pretty impressive things, much like her original and her brother. Whether that be unlocking unknown powers, loosing her self control, as in this one, or effortlessly reaching milestones it would have otherwise taken her years to do, as in this one, she generally tends to leave bystanders speechless. (Now, speechless from what exactly, is up for debate.)


(And, no, hatred and anger do not make you strong. Wylie is not a Sith Lord.)


(Nor will she be.)