Woah, it's been awhile, hasn't it? Doing the life-thing sucks, sometimes. Thank you all for continuing to read this story of mine, every follow, favorite, view, and review is much appreciated.

Okay, so about her sorting. I purposefully made her pretty well rounded, where she could feasibly fit into any house, given the right argument. The reason I chose Gryffindor is because 1: I thought she could fit in there, and 2: I wanted to give her some similar starting tools to original Harry, and do different things with them. Well, except for the Hunting aspect of things...

My friends, I need help for a problem I'm having. Having two Dean's is very confusing, so I would love help for nickname ideas for Dean Thomas. Pretty please? I'm making his middle name Elijah (don't ask why, I don't know, it's just Elijah). Think over nicknames this chapter, and review me your ideas or send me a PM if you'd rather. I'm pretty hopeless in this case, though normally I'm not. I toyed around with the idea of D-Li, but I'm not sure how I feel about that, so... help? I offer internet hugs as a reward for your services!

While I'm on that topic, if anyone is willing to create a cover image for this story, I'd love to use something. Because I'm not the best at drawing. Just PM me. More internet hugs are offered for your awesomeness. However, this is not my most pressing concern (I really badly need that nickname guys...)

With that out of the way, (if you haven't died from overload of boring necessary not-story ramblings) I own nothing and wish you enjoyable reading.

Chapter 14: Savior

The next morning, she woke up some time before dawn, used to sleeping only about half the night. As she showered, she wondered if she'd have that habit forever, not that she minded it.

Once she was ready for the day, light from the sun had just begun to stream in through the windows, bathing the room in gold. One of the other girls was already awake, sitting by a window writing in a journal with a deep purple quill. Her hair was auburn, tumbling down her shoulders in pretty curls.

"Goodmorning," Haven said, "My name is Haven Winchester, who are you?"

The girl looked up, her pale green eyes meeting Haven's darker ones. "Amaryllis Runcorn."

Then her eyes returned to her journal, the quill scratching the paper being the only sound. Clearly, Haven wouldn't be getting much out of her for now.

Before too long, the three others had woken up, each proving to be more talkative than Amaryllis. Hermione Granger's bed head was as scary as Haven's. The girl was obviously intelligent, and like Haven, having been raised around muggles.

The other two were already inseparable, their names being Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil. If Haven remembered correctly, Parvati had a sister who became a Ravenclaw. Both of them seemed to be the popular, social butterfly type. Haven might have been okay with them, but they kept staring at her and calling her Alexandrite like they were deaf to Haven's corrections.

Once introductions were out of the way, Haven decided to go to the common room to find Dean Thomas (nickname pending) and Neville.

Dean was there, talking with another boy. As soon as he saw her, he waved.

"Goodmorning." she said, sitting next to him and the other boy (S-something, was it?) on the scarlett chairs.

"Goodmorning. How did you sleep?" Dean asked, "By the way, this is Seamus."

Seamus nodded, "You're Alexandrite Potter, aren't you?"

She tried not to glare at him, "Yes, but I've been going by Haven Winchester since I was seven."

"Why?" the boy replied.

"Well, the family in America that took me in were all Winchesters. It made sense to me that I share the name of my new family, especially since they were the only ones I could remember having. That, and I hate the name Alexandrite, so…" she ended with a shrug. "I don't see why everyone's making such a big deal of me going by something different."

As Seamus squawked unintelligibly, Dean Thomas replied, "Apparently, every child raised by magical parents knew your name before they knew the names of their own parents. At least, that is what everyone makes it sound like."

Haven huffed, crossing her arms, "I didn't even do anything besides prove that all Winchesters are too stubborn to die. I get Voldemort-"

Several people nearby shrieked loudly in fear. The others looked at her in amazement, as if she had just sprouted wings and taken flight.

"You said his name?!" a voice exclaimed.

"Yeah," she rolled her eyes. "It's not that hard. Voldemort, Voldemort, Voldemort, Voldemort… You know, who would name a kid 'Voldemort'? No wonder he became an evil overlord."

It was pandemonium as everyone began freaking out. Huh. The violent reaction just hearing the name might prove useful one day. However, the shrieking was murder to her eardrums, so for now she'd probably refrain from repeating this scenario unless necessary.

"I don't get why everyone freaks out so much." Dean replied, watching the students around them recover from their heart attacks.

"It's just that no one says his name." Neville replied quietly, sitting down next to Haven, "We grew up fearing saying the name, so now the fact that you do is shocking."

She rolled her eyes, mouth turned upward at the corners, "It's in my nature to be shocking, so they should get used to it."

Dean giggled and Neville smiled. They continued talking until the Common Room began emptying, everyone headed to breakfast.

"Come on, you two." Haven said, "People are going to breakfast. We should probably ask one of the upper years to give us directions, otherwise we'll get lost."

Neville's face fell, nervousness overtaking his calmer demeanor, "Do we have to?"

Haven didn't answer, marching to the nearest group of upper years- the two redheaded twins.

"Excuse me," she interrupted, their eyes zeroing on her as one, only briefly flickering to the scar on her forehead (she respected them for only glancing). "My friends and I don't remember where the Great Hall is, and I don't really feel like getting lost today. Could you two give me directions, please?"

The two traded a look. Haven got the unpleasant feeling that she had just made a colossal mistake. Which was an understatement

"Of course, fair maiden!" said one with a mischievous grin, linking his arm with her left arm.

"We would be glad to ensure you don't get lost!" the other twin linked his arm with her right one as the two began dragging her out of the Common Room.

"We'll even lead you there-"

"-like the proper gentlemen we are."

"That's really nice of you, but I think I can make it with just directions." Haven replied mildly, allowing herself to be dragged along, sensing that resistance was futile.

"Nonsense!"

"Proper gentlemen would never-"

"-leave a lady to fend for herself like that."

Haven rolled her eyes, noticing Dean and Neville following behind her and the two redheads with bewildered looks on their faces. "I can see that the two of you are the epitome of gentlemanliness."

"We are honored to accept-"

"-such a compliment-"

"-from one as lovely and polite as you." the twin on her right concluded with a flourish.

She laughed, before asking, "So what are your names?"

Haven almost fell over as her guides stopped abruptly, looking at one another over the top of her head in shock.

"George, can you believe?!-"

"She hasn't heard of us?!"

"This is a travesty!"

"We must rectify this immediately!"

"Without a doubt!"

Turning to her, they said as one, "We are Fred and George Weasley, master pranksters, at your service!"

"And you," continued one, the one with a slightly lighter shade of blue eyes.

"-Are Alexandrite Potter."

She made a face, amused mood souring, "Yeah, I've been hearing that a lot."

The twins, Fred and George Weasley, exchanged a quick look. The rest of the walk was spent in silence, her unwanted companions communicating silently over her head. She broke away from their grip, entering the Great Hall (which had come into sight at that point).

Once inside, she headed straight to the Hufflepuff table, to where Zacharias was sitting, unceremoniously plopping herself down in the empty space next to him.

"Good morning," she told him, aware that he (as well as everyone else at the table) were staring at her as if she had grown those wings (yet again) and a halo. She began piling food onto her plate. When the stares still didn't go away, she looked up, demanding, "What? Do I have something on my face?"

The Hufflepuffs looked away, returning to their meals, shooting glances to her occasionally. She was aware that they were whispering her (wrong) name, but chose to ignore it to prevent herself from getting more angry. How many times did she have to repeat that her name was Haven Winchester? Until her tongue fell right off from abuse?

"What are you doing, Alexandrite?" Zacharias asked, putting his fork down. She noticed that he didn't have much food at all on his plate.

"That's Haven, or Alex, I suppose, if you absolutely must, and I'm sitting with a friend." she informed him. She would have added that she had noticed him looking lonely, but she knew enough about him to know that he wouldn't appreciate her pointing it out.

"I trust Gryffindor house is treating you well? You should fit right in with those reckless idiots," Zacharias commented after spending a few long moments accessing her.

"It's fine. Very red." Haven replied, "So are you fitting in with the cuddly, bright yellow Hufflepuffs?"

He glared at her, "Well enough."

That was when hundreds of owls streamed into the breakfast room. Haven searched them for any sign of her own owl, which still hadn't returned yet. When she was about to give up hope, she finally spotted an exhausted owl making her way down towards her. She was eager- her family had finally gotten the letter, she wanted to see the reply so badly-

Then she noticed that the snowy owl carried no letter with her. Her excitement died. The letter she hadn't sent wasn't with the owl, so they had probably gotten it… they just hadn't wanted to reply. She didn't even know if her brothers had read any of it. Had her father not allowed it, or had Dean said no, or was there a chance that the owl had lost the letter?

"What's wrong?" Zacharias asked, his tone barring only the slightest trace of concern.

"Oh, uh, nothing." she replied. Maybe she should just send another letter, just in case they hadn't gotten it.

A feeling of dread latched on when she realized that while any of those instances could be true… they could have also not replied because they were dead.

"Don't lie if you aren't even going to do it well. It only makes people more interested." she heard Zacharias say.

"I was just… expecting a letter from my brothers, you see…" she replied quietly, staring out at nothing. She'd just have to send another letter to them, and pray they weren't dead like she feared. It probably had a perfectly understandable explanation.

"Your brothers? I hadn't heard that the Potter's had more than one child." Zacharias replied.

Quietly, she said, "They aren't blood related. I was… adopted."

"I see." Zacharias said, "Well, if they can stand your company enough to adopt you, I'm sure they'll send you a letter."

"Yeah, probably." Haven said, forcing herself to perk up, "You're right. So, what does your schedule look like today?"

The first week, Haven found that Hogwarts had it's ups and downs. Classes were pretty interesting for the most part, though she utterly hated the stares and whispers. Even the teachers weren't innocent of staring (or falling to the ground when calling her name).

And still, no one in this freaking magic school could get her name right!

The ghosts learned pretty quickly to give her a wide berth… all except for Peeves. He seemed to take special glee in terrorizing her, though he wasn't dangerous. He was only a bit of a mischievous prankster. Or a lot of one. However, she somehow managed to allow him to live, out of the vast goodness in her heart. Which was also the reason no one else ended up maimed.

She wrote a new letter to her brothers, telling them about her friends and her classes and the ghosts. She forced herself to remain hopeful about getting a reply this time.

Friday marked the last day of the first week- and her first class with the Slytherins, and by extension, Draco. She knew it was a bad sign when Professor Snape began the class by taking roll call. Her gut feeling was only confirmed when her own name was reached.

"Ah, yes," he said softly, "Alexandrite Potter. Our new- celebrity."

She met his ink-like eyes squarely. She didn't know what his issue was, but he had one, she was sure. He continued calling the names, before he looked up the class.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making," began the Professor, speaking softly, yet not one person ignored him, "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 teach."

Despite his obvious hatred of children, she couldn't help but get excited. This was one of the few subjects in this whole school that made sense to her right now, that she could understand coming from her life as a Hunter. Magic and mumbo jumbo was all new, but using different substances to make something else? Cooking in a nutshell, just with different outcomes.

The dunderheads bit felt like a challenge, anyway. One she was more than willing to accept.

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

She smirked confidently- she had read that. "The Draught of Living Death, though you'll have to do more than mix them together."

He frowned, obviously having not been expecting that, "How about this, Potter. Where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"

"Well, first I assume you should have some in your stores, because a student dying from ingesting a harmful potion is too much paperwork. If, for some strange reason you didn't have one, I could look in an apothecary. After that, I could resort to finding a goat, but by then the poisoned person would be long dead." she answered, pleased. She knew there would be a good reason to read all of her books.

The Professor was growing progressively irritated. Why was he trying to humiliate her? "What is the difference, Potter-"

"Uh, begging your pardon, sir, but that's Winchester. Haven Winchester." she interrupted. There was a general intake of breath, as if no one could believe she would interrupt him.

"But Potter is the last name you were born with, is it not?" his eyes glittered as if he sensed an opening.

"Yeah, but-"

"Then that is the name I shall use for you." he interrupted. She was so angry she was stricken speechless. "Now, if that is all, Potter, I want you all to begin making a cure for boils. The instructions are on the board, and any ingredients you may need are in the chest over there."

Haven and Dean began making the potion, Haven not making a sound. She knew that this Professor would be the first one she ever hated in her life. Of all the students, he found the most things wrong with her, even though her and Dean's potion looked as it was supposed to. Dean, as if sensing her mounting anger, chatted at her, trying to get her to talk. She forced herself to answer his questions and reply to his comments as she concentrated on making a quality potion.

A cloud of acid green smoke billowed throughout the room, a loud hissing filling the room. Neville and Seamus's cauldron had melted into a twisted blob, their potion seeping out and onto the ground. Within seconds everyone was on top of their desks, Haven hauling Dean up after her as the potion reached their area. Neville, who had been drenched in the stuff, groaned in pain as angry red boils popped up on his arms.

"Idiot boy!" roared Professor Snape, clearing away the potion with a simple wave of his wand, "I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire?"

Neville just whimpered in pain.

"Take him up to the hospital wing," Professor Snape spat at Seamus, who hurried to comply. Then he turned to Dean and Haven, eyes zeroing in on her.

"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 a point from Gryffindor."

Finally her anger broke free of her tight hold on it, "Oh, I was under the impression it was your job to do that."

"Another point, Potter!" he barked.

"Why?" she countered, ignoring Dean, who was trying to get her to stop, and Draco, who was trying to signal to her to shut up, "Because I'm right, maybe? I was watching my own cauldron, so how was I supposed to watch Neville's?!"

"Five points!"

"Stop," Dean hissed in her ear, tugging her hand furiously, "Don't push it! Let it go!"

She glared, but forced her mouth shut. She should listen to Dean, she didn't need any trouble. She would have to try being somewhat polite to the professor if she was to learn anything. Which required her to let it go.

But, added her still-angry self, if he doesn't fix his attitude towards me by next class, I will not take it lying down. I didn't come here to be stared at and humiliated and put down. I came here for my brothers, and to learn, so I can be a better Hunter.

Thoughts?

Don't forget the nickname things. Dean Elijah Thomas, Haven, and I beg you for your input, while Dean Winchester refuses to stoop to begging, but requests silently nonetheless.

Thank you for reading.