Disclaimer: All characters and plot from the Harry Potter Series belong to J.K. Rowling. All references to other characters from other fictional sources belong to their respected authors. Vitani, Chell, Mordecai, etc. belong to moi.

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Vitani woke up the next day with a groan. No matter how luxurious the bed, how great the dinner, how well she slept, she always felt terrible waking up in a place she wasn't use to. It was a shame; she was usually a morning person.

She changed into her new robes and put on the Slytherin tie that had been left on her bed the previous night. She grabbed her book bag and left the dorm room, through the hall and into the common room. She didn't bother waiting for the prefects to guide her back to the Hall, which was probably the reason why they were standing in the room waiting. Instead she left, guessed at which way to turn, and somehow made it back to the Entrance hall without really trying.

When she entered the Great Hall, the loud noise of conversations considerably decreased, all the heads turning to look at her.

It's not polite to stare, she thought, but then heard footsteps behind her. She turned, and there was Harry Potter, Weasley, Finnigan and Neville.

Ah, that makes much more sense.

She watched them pass her, Harry's eyes looking at the floor but the other boys beaming with joy of accompanying the Harry Potter. After a moment, while everyone was still watching him, she pulled out her wand and concentrated on a spell she had read in one of her books.

"Dipengere," she whispered, pointing her wand at her tie.

This was her first time using magic and was doubtful anything would happen. However, the tie changed colors just as she wanted, the green bleeding into red and the silver melting into gold. Perfect.

She followed the boys, her hair shadowing her face as she walked by the other three tables to the Gryffindor table. Before she sat down, she tucked her tie further into her robes so no one could really tell what colors they were at all. She had sat just seconds after the boys, all of them talking about what their new classes would be like, and the occasional question towards Harry that had apparently not been asked last night. She quickly snagged a waffle and strawberries and began eating.

It was a while before anyone noticed her presence, but then one of the red head twins (she guessed they were Weasleys) reached for a second piece of toast but stopped to stare at her. She did not look up and kept all her focus on her waffle. It was good, really good, but not as delicious as her mum's.

The boy nudged his twin and then both began to stare at her. The second twin shrugged and the first scrunched his eyebrows at him, questioning his lack of curiosity. Then they both seemed to have a silent argument between each other that only twins could have, and then they began eating their food again.

Good, they didn't notice.

"Vitani?"

Damnit Neville.

The first twin whispered "Hah!" to his brother, and before anyone else noticed, she covered Neville's mouth.

"Quiet Nev, you'll attract the whole the Hall," she whispered.

"B-but what are you doing here?" he whispered back and the twins leaned towards them.

She gave them a 'really, you're that interested in this conversation' look and turned to Neville "Well, why can't I be here?"

"This is the Gryffindor table."

"I don't see a name on it," she said, twirling her fork, "for all you know this could be the Dumbledore table and you'd never be able to tell."

"But the Gryffindors always sit here."

"How can you be so sure? You haven't even been here a whole day. Maybe Wednesdays are Slytherdor days but everyone forgot."

"Slytherdor days?" whispered the twins together.

"You know, when the Slytherins and Gryffindors switch places for the day."

"Oh, I think you mean Gryfferin days," said the second twin, smirking and playing along.

"Yeah, you're thinking about Mondays," said the first twin, going along with it too.

"Are there really days when the houses switch up?" asked Neville, looking highly confused.

"Of course not," said a snooty voice down the table.

Vitani turned to see the bushy haired girl (what was her name? Right, Hermione Granger) move from her spot two seats down to the spot across from her.

"It's not very nice to tease people like that," she went on.

"I intended nothing of the sort. I was only explaining to Neville that there's nothing stopping me from sitting here."

"Gryffindors sit here. They've sat here for over a thousand years-"

"I don't know, my butt'd be pretty sore if I sat here for that long," laughed the first twin.

"-And," she stressed, ignoring his remark, "the other houses have sat at their respectful tables for that long as well. The Four Founders set them up like that; it's all in Hogwarts, A History."

"That sounds like conformist talk to me," Tani said, slapping her hand on the table, startling a few students around her. "We need some anarchy around here! It goes great with bacon and eggs."

"We tried that last year," said the first twin.

"It didn't go too well," finished the second.

By now Vitani, the Weasley twins, Hermione and Neville had garnered some attention from the rest of the Gryffindors, who were all staring at them.

"I'd think it'd be wise if you got up and went back to your own table, before you cause any more disturbances," Hermione whispered to her, looking at the others.

"I'd be more of a disturbance if I got up and left. Hermione, can't I be a Gryffindor for at least the rest of breakfast?" like I need her permission.

"I guess," she said weakly, glancing at the clock on the wall. Lucky for Hermione, the rest of breakfast did not last too long. The bell rang, signaling the start of the day. Vitani got up and picked up her bag, snagging one last strawberry before she left. Her bag was considerably heavier than it was before. She looked down to see Akane had snuck into it. Before she went to follow the other first year Slytherins, the twins tapped her on the shoulder.

"Fred and George Weasley, at your service," they chimed and gave a mock bow.

"Vitani DeVera, a pleasure," she said with a fake curtsy.

"You're pretty cool for a Slytherin."

"You two aren't bad yourselves… for Slytherdors…"

"Gryfferins!" they shouted behind her as she walked away laughing.

The first day of classes, Wednesday, started off well enough. Because she was trailing behind the others as Malfoy and Pansy led them, she could learn from their mistakes. On their way to Transfiguration, Malfoy had spent all of five minutes trying to wrench open a door that wasn't really a door, but a wall pretending to be. On their way down to Herbology, Pansy and Nott got stuck on a trick staircase and had to have their legs pulled out by a fifth year passing by. When they were walking into their first class of Astronomy (daytime), Crabbe had crashed the door open and the door retaliated, smacking him down to the floor. Some doors liked to be tickled, others to be scratched behind their handles. Four of the one hundred and forty-two staircases had vanishing steps, two of the 142 flattened into ramps if you tripped on them, sending you back down, and one a the very top of the castle would act like an escalator, going up if you needed to go down and vice versa. The stairs, halls, pictures and coats of armor all moved, shifting whenever they felt like.

The ghosts and people in the portraits were willing to give directions to new students, but one of them, a poltergeist named Peeves, was a horror to meet between classes. He always had spit wads and ink pellets at the ready, and dumped wastepaper baskets (and the baskets themselves) on their heads. He'd pelt you with bits of chalk, or sneak up behind you, invisible, grab your nose, and screech, "GOT YOUR CONK!" The caretaker, who she had expected to be a nice but busy man, was instead a foul and grumpy man by the name of Filch. He and his cat, Mrs. Norris, patrolled the castle, at the ready with a loud screech and a detention slip.

The classes were just as strange, if not more, than the castle. Professor McGonagall immediately began with a stern talking to the Slytherins and Ravenclaws, and then proceeded to turn her desk into a pig and back again. They were all very excited to start, but they wouldn't be changing furniture into animals for a while. She made them write notes about the transmutation of similarly massed objects and then handed them matches to turn into needles. On her third try Vitani was successful and gained two points. However, those points were lost when Goyle mistakenly set his, and the matches in the vicinity, on fire. Professor McGonagall quickly vanished the matches, restored anyone's singed notes, and deducted five points from Slytherin.

Herbology started off with roll call by a dumpy little witch named Professor Sprout. She then talked to them about the class and its importance and then separated the boys and girls into different groups. The girls were given small trays of Pepper Daisies (the magical equivalent of mace) to put into pots. The boys were given Nipping Nillies (little bulbs that grabbed your finger with their tiny roots and nibbled your finger with a small fanged tooth).

They had a break for lunch, where she sat with her house, and then left to attend History of Magic. This was obviously the most lackluster of all the subjects. It was the only one taught by a ghost, Professor Binns, who droned on and on about odd witches and wizards and ogre wars and Goblin conferences and what have you. It probably would have been extremely interesting in anyone else's hands, but the lengthy monotone did it no justice. The class would have made Emmelia absolutely mad. She was enthralled by all history, but this class would have had her on the ground in a nervous breakdown. The day concluded with an introductory lesson in Astronomy during the late afternoon. They would start their real lesson next Monday at midnight. Then there was diner and then off to bed.

Thursday started off similarly. She woke up, sat with own house (after being questioned by Daphne and Pansy about her whereabouts yesterday when they had gone back to the common room. She told them she had gotten lost in the dungeons and Pansy cackled) and then continued the day with double charms with the Hufflepuffs and Defense Against the Dark Arts, again with the Ravenclaws. Charms class was very entertaining; after taking roll call, Professor Flitwick sent everything around the room flying in spectacular orderly chaos. They then practiced wand movements for their first levitation spell next class. Professor Quirrell taught DADA; he kept cloves of Garlic hung in his class, as well as in his turban, though he denied it. He was not the brave adventurer that the first years expected him to be, he quivered and stuttered after being asked questions about his journeys, and Malfoy spent most of the time in class making fun of him while his back was turned.

It was Friday that she really looked forward to. It would be the first time the Slytherins had classes with the Gryffindors and she could see Neville. It would also be the first time meeting the head of her house, Professor Snape. The older Slytherins had gone on and on about him and now she was excited too. And lastly, she had the afternoon off.

After breakfast and an owl delivery from her mother and friends, sending love and cupcakes, she trooped back down the stone steps to one of the large dungeons with the other Slytherins and Gryffindors. It was cold and damp and creepy as hell… she kind of liked it… She entered the dungeon expecting Snape to be much like her beloved chemistry teacher back home. She was wrong. Oh so wrong.

Snape started class by taking the roll call but paused when he came to Harry's name.

"Ah, Yes," he said softly, "Harry Potter. Our new… celebrity."

Uh oh, she thought, this doesn't sound good.

Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle sniggered behind their hands while Snape finished roll call. He then looked at the class; his eyes were black, cold and empty and made you think of dark tunnels.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making," he began. He spoke in barely more than a whisper, but they caught every word. "As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. 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... 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."

Silence followed this little speech. Many people exchanged looks with raised eyebrows. Hermione was on the edge of her seat and looked desperate to start proving that she wasn't a dunderhead. Vitani was beside herself in utter excitement; she had loved making potions with her mother and now would be able to on her own.

"Potter!" said Snape suddenly. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

The Draught of Living Death, she recalled a time when her mum had made that for an insomniac neighbor.

Harry looked extremely confused and glanced at Fred and George's brother, Ron, hoping to get help. Ron looked equally as helpless; all the while Hermione had shot her hand into the air, eager to answer.

"I don't know, sir," said Harry.

Snape's lips curled into a sneer.

"Tut, tut - fame clearly isn't everything."

He ignored Hermione's hand.

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

The antidote drawer, an apothecary… a goat.

Hermione stretched her hand as high into the air as it would go without her leaving her seat, but Harry looked like he didn't have the faintest idea what a bezoar was. Vitani turned from his panicked expression to Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle, who were shaking with laughter.

"I don't know, sir."

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

Oh god, I know what you are.

Any hope she had left for the man had been drained away by that last insult. Snape was not one of those all-around hated teachers that everyone loathed, nor was he the nice but easily irritated teacher that everyone was extremely wary of. He was an I-was-once-wronged-by-something-or-somebody-related-to-you-and-now-I-will-spend-the-rest-of-my-days-hating-you-and-anyone-associated-with-you-for-all-eternity-even-though-I-will-never-admit-it teacher. Something had happened between Snape and Potter. She didn't know what and neither, apparently, did Harry.

And Snape was still ignoring Hermione's quivering hand.

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

Trick question, they're the same plant.

This time Hermione stood from her seat, stretching her hand to infinity.

"I don't know," said Harry quietly. "I think Hermione does, though, why don't you try her?"

Some of the Gryffindors laughed and even Daphne gave a giggle. Snape, however, was not amused.

"Sit down," he 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. A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat and it will save you from most poisons. 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?"

Everyone quickly took a quill from his or her bag and began scribbling down the notes. Over the noise, Snape said, "And a point will be taken from Gryffindor House for your cheek, Potter."

The class got worse as time went on. For one thing, she was utterly bored with their assignment, a cure for boils, which she had made long ago. She flipped through the first pages of her potions book only to find that she had done nearly all of them; she had, in fact, done half the book. There was also the exponentially increasing abuse of the Gryffindors. Each insult to the Gryffindors (mostly to Harry) was emphasized by the snickers from her fellow Slytherins and the sneers from Snape. If his favorite verbal punching bag was Harry, then his second was Neville. He constantly berated him, and any little mistake was met with harsh reprimand. This made Neville panic more and made him cause even worse mistakes. The final blow was melting Seamus' cauldron, spilling incomplete and highly dangerous potion all over the floor.

"Idiot boy!" snarled Snape, clearing the spilled potion away with one wave of his wand. "I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire?"

Neville whimpered as boils started to pop up all over his nose.

"Take him up to the hospital wing," Snape spat at Seamus. Then he rounded on Harry and Ron, who had been working next to Neville.

"You - Potter - why didn't you tell him not to add the quills? Thought he'd make you look good if he got it wrong, did you? That's another point you've lost for Gryffindor."

That was completely and utterly unfair. This was probably everyone's first time making any potion and they needed to concentrate, no matter how basic the recipe. How could Harry have watched Neville while he was making his own. Rather than Snape just giving them the instructions and letting them go without saying any word of caution, he should have directed them, done the first potion together, like an actual teacher. And who gave a damn if the potion was crud, didn't he care about his students wellbeing?

The answer to that was a big, fat No.

But the absolute worst thing about the class, about the entire situation, was that she had intended to be Neville's partner for the assignment, had moved toward him and the other Gryffindors when they were forming pairs, but was pulled back by Pansy and Tracey. If she had brushed them off, if she had been there to help Neville then this wouldn't have happened, he wouldn't be in such pain and humiliation and Malfoy and company wouldn't be laughing about it on their way to dinner.

Vitani felt vile.

The week had started off well; it had ended in disaster. Where she may have at one point almost made friends with the other Gryffindors she had lost that opportunity, possibly for good. As she walked passed the Gryffindor table to dinner that Friday, she had seen the Gryffindors give her glares and Vitani put her head down in shame. She hadn't done anything, and that was the problem, she hadn't done anything, to hurt or help Neville.

Vitani went to bed that Friday, fully intent on visiting Neville tomorrow in the hospital wing. She curled up in bed, distressed, with cat-Akane rubbing her nose with her nose, trying to soothe her. Before she fell asleep, she remembered the letter her family had sent her, how they had asked how she was doing, if everything was going well. She curled up tighter in bed, dreading answering that question.

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Updating soon. Please review! Pos or neg, I don't care, I like reading comments.