4th August 1991, the Daily Prophet

'JUSTICE SERVED AT LAST: MASS MURDERER PETER PETTIGREW SENTENCED TO AZKABAN

In the trial conducted before the entire Wizengamot on the 3rd of August, Peter Pettigrew the mass murderer who had been on the run for ten years was finally convicted and sentenced life imprisonment in Azkaban prison. His out-of-the-blue sighting at Gringotts bank on 31st July prompted the Auror forces to make a speedy arrest and finally bring the man behind bars. In the trial, his earlier unclear intentions of going to the bank were revealed. By his own admission, Pettigrew went on record and said that his purpose was to steal the contents of the high-security vault 713. When asked what was so special about the vault a Gringotts Spokesgoblin said, "We're not telling you what was in there, so keep your noses out of it if you know what's good for you." Upon further investigation, it was found that the vault had been emptied the very same day. See full article on pg3.'

September 1st 1991,

King's Cross Station

"I expect that you'll find Ron on the train," Marlene said with her head buried in her daughter's hair and her arms around the girl.

"I have to be on the train first." was Viscenya's muffled reply.

Marlene nodded but didn't let go of her daughter anyway.

A minute passed, "Mum, I have to go at some point you know that right?"

Marlene sighed heavily and finally released her daughter from her soft embrace, "yeah, yeah… I know."

She ran a hand over Viscenya's intricately braided hair that she knew wouldn't stay intact for a long time, what with her daughter being the person she was. Nevertheless, Viscenya tried to bat her mother's hands away so that they couldn't mess up the design.

Marlene clicked her tongue, "Stop acting like your father."

"I thought you loved him," Viscenya said drily as she tried to raise a single eyebrow (she wasn't successful and ended up looking confused)

"Of course I love him, doesn't mean I want another 'him' running around the house, Merlin knows I can only handle one," she explained, "Besides, you look an awful lot like him and that's enough." She said softly, again looking as if she was going to bring her daughter into a hug.

"Mum, can you not be so mushy?" Lyra asked from her seat on Viscenya's trunk.

Marlene glared half-heartedly at her daughter and turned her attention back to the eleven-year-old. "Take care, and punch sexist shits who think they can boss you around."

Viscenya nodded her head diligently, although after a moment of contemplation she said, "Actually, I'd rather jinx them from afar, gives you the satisfaction of them looking around like idiots."

Marlene raised her eyebrows at that strategy. Her daughter was thinking ahead.

Out of nowhere James Potter arrived behind them and said, "See? I told you, your daughter's a Slytherin!" and promptly ran away to his wife.

"Oh, for the love of M-," Marlene began to say but an announcement was made which advised everyone to get on board, so she let it slide... for now.

After a bone-crushing hug from her father, a slightly tearful goodbye from her brother, promises to write to her sister and advice on keeping safe and studying from Aunt Lily, Viscenya was finally making her way through the narrow passages of the train, her trunk in one hand and the cage that held her owl in another. Even though Viscenya had been slightly delirious when she had gone to the Emporium, she didn't regret the choice she had made. The owl that she had wanted to talk to was the one she brought home the day after her trip to Diagon Alley. And she had given him the best name ever; Chewie.

Aunt Lily and Uncle Remus got the reference and appreciated it. Harry got the reference and he just laughed.

To be fair, her owl didn't really look like the Wookie but the slightly similar shade of his feathers made Viscenya think about the creature, and that was inspiration enough for a name. Harry had named his owl after some lady in the History of Magic book that they had been assigned. Viscenya was surprised that he had started reading up on the syllabus already.

As she made her way down the coach, she could feel curious eyes on her. She knew that she'd have to deal with this sooner or later; it was inevitable that kids would want to know about what had happened at the Trial. The daily prophet had covered the story for a full week even after the trial had finished and Pettigrew was sent to jail. The journalists being the nosy gits that they were had bombarded everyone and anyone who knew Pettigrew from before, with questions. This involved her parents, uncle Remus and of course aunt Lilly and Uncle James. Besides, her father and uncle worked as Aurors, so they had to be involved in the case regardless of their previous relations with the man.

Many kids her age had no idea of what the War was actually like, so for them the rehashing of an old case and such a high profile one at that seemed very exciting. And the children being the idiots that they were would not bother at all to tread the topic lightly.

A jolt ran through the train and Viscenya knew that they had started their journey. She had wanted to find a seat before the train started moving so that she could wave at her parents from the window side, but that no longer seemed like a doable option. A full five minutes of tugging her trunk across the coaches finally led her to the compartment that Harry was sitting in. Surprisingly there was only Ron with him.

When she knocked at the door, Harry's eyes snapped up and rushed to open the door for her. All three of them managed to fit her trunk in the seats below and Chewie's cage was kept alongside Hedwig's.

"What took you so long? I've been waiting here for ages," Harry said after they had settled down.

"I had to go through the entire bloody train looking for you that's why." She snapped, "Why didn't you tell me where'd you be?"

"Because he didn't know it himself, he was wandering around when I found him and led him to this one." Put in Ron as he picked at the wrappings of his bulky sandwich absentmindedly.

That didn't ease Viscenya's annoyance, but she let it go, it wouldn't be right for her to let something as simple as that ruin her mood.

"How come no one's asked you for an autograph yet?" she asked a while later and smirked when Harry groaned. "A couple have, not all though. Don't jinx it."

Viscenya and Ron snickered under their breath.

It didn't take them long to start talking Quidditch, all three of them were sad that first years weren't allowed to play for the teams or even allowed a broom. While Harry and Ron argued that no matter what age, they'd be able to handle the pressure of a proper game of Quidditch, Viscenya inwardly thought that it was probably for the best that they had set that rule. No matter how good everyone said she was at the sport, she could do well without getting her head bludgeoned to death by a nasty bludger. Of course, she didn't voice this thought out loud. She was a Gryffindor- well, she wasn't one yet, but it was only a matter of time before the Sorting Hat shouted it loud for everyone to hear- and Gryffindors didn't get scared over silly things like bludgers. Besides, house pride or not, Harry and Ron would tease her endlessly and she couldn't give them that opportunity. So she too spoke in righteous anger about how unfair it all was.

Throughout the rest of the train ride, people had flitted in and out of their carriage. Neville had come by to ask if they had seen his toad, a couple of children their age and those older to them had come by to see what Harry looked like and to get autographs, which Harry promptly refused. Another girl their age came by but she wasn't interested in autographs, she was helping Neville look for his toad (although she did flush heavily when she found out she had spoken to Harry Potter). Susan Bones had been kind enough to drop off some of the cookies that her mum had made and had introduced them to another first year that she had made friends with; Hannah Abbot.

Oh, and of course Draco sodding Malfoy had also stopped by. With his swagger on and hair gelled back, looking every bit of the spoilt little brat that he was. In his visit to the compartment which lasted just five minutes, he had managed to make Viscenya, Harry and Ron very angry, quite effortlessly. His insults to Harry and Viscenya didn't really affect them much, because they were the same things that he hit at during all of their other conversations, but since it was his first proper meeting with Ron, he had had his fun coming up with things.

But the brief meeting had ended on a good note, with Draco Malfoy and his goons running off from the compartment with smoke billowing from their robes; courtesy of the Zonko product that Viscenya had wanted to try desperately, but couldn't find the right person to act as a guinea pig.

Surprisingly nobody had brought the trial up, except for Ron who was curious about all the media attention that it had gotten. Seemed as if nobody was as smart Viscenya gave them credit for.

For now, the trio was making their way towards the castle on boats across the Great Lake. All the children in their year had oohed and aahed at the first glimpse of the castle, Viscenya being one of them. From what she had heard of the castle she felt that the reality exceeded her expectations by far. She was sitting on the boat with Harry, Ron and the girl from before; whose name she found out was Hermione Granger. She tore her gaze from the castle for a brief second to look at the people around her. As expected, they all wore similar expressions of awe on their faces, even Malfoy who could usually be found scowling at something or the other, was for once sporting a small smile full of wonder.

She shifted a bit so that she could look at the passengers of her boat and she immediately sought Harry. The boy was already looking at her, a giddy smile on his lips lighting up his entire face even in the faint moonlight. He motioned with his head towards the castle that was slowly becoming bigger as they neared it and shot a wink at Viscenya, the girl laughed and looked away; the tips of her ears growing warm.

"What do you think we have to do for the sorting?" asked Ron worriedly, rubbing at the dirt on his nose like a madman; McGonagall had told the kids to look their best for the feast with a pointed look at the redhead and he had not stopped worrying since.

"Well, we'll have to battle some creature, that's for sure!" said Viscenya earnestly and shared a small smile with Harry immediately after.

Hermione Granger must've heard her because the dark-skinned girl immediately started mumbling all the spells that she had memorized from the books under her breath.

Ron reluctantly agreed with what the girl had said, "Yeah… Makes sense, Fred and George told me that we'll have to battle a Troll. I think they change the creature every year. I hope we get something easy, like… pixies or… or gnomes! Oh god, anything but Trolls."

"Yeah, I really hope we don't have to battle Trolls," Harry muttered sarcastically as he tried to fix his crooked tie, he had tried to mat down his hair a bit but that was a lost cause, so he went on to something else.

The reason why all the first years were hyperventilating outside the doors to the Great Hall was that they were scared beyond their wits about the Sorting. Not just muggle-borns, who didn't have any extra knowledge about the Wizarding world save for the fact that they knew of its existence, certain kids who were raised in magical families were at a loss as well. Ron Weasley was a prime example. Despite being raised in a family of nine, out of which seven had gone to Hogwarts, the boy had no idea about what he had to do to prove his worth in front of the school. This fact was milked for all its worth by Viscenya and (of course) by extension Harry. These two were one of the few children who knew that there was nothing to worry about, for there was no need to prove themselves at all! The sorting hat would be placed on their heads and the magical article would declare to all of Hogwarts the house that they'd belong to.

While their parents hadn't told them what would happen, Viscenya knew better than to rely on what they said if they ever broke their silence on the matter at all. Despite being just an eleven year old, she had enough sense to go to the most responsible adult around; uncle Remus. While Viscenya at times felt that her uncle got a bit too uptight, she appreciated that fact deeply when all the actual adults around her acted her age. Without much prodding, uncle Remus had patiently explained the entire process to her, and she had relayed this information onto Harry.

But it was only Harry whom she had told. She wasn't about to miss out on the fun that she was having, seeing Ron and countless others nervous beyond belief, ha! This was hilarious.

Suddenly everybody went silent, Viscenya looked up and saw that the Professor from before, Professor McGonagall, had come back. The lady discreetly ran her gaze through the crowd of children, checking to see if everyone was in order, once she was satisfied, she called out, "Form a line, and follow me"

All the children straightened up and assembled themselves into lines. The giant oak doors to the Great Hall swung open.

Viscenya gasped loudly; the Great Hall did justice to its name. With over a thousand candles lighting up the room and the intricate architecture of it all, the hall looked well and truly 'great'. She felt a hand tug at her robe sleeve and looked to her side; it was Harry, pointing discreetly at the ceiling. Viscenya looked up and gasped again, it was the night sky! She had heard about the infamous enchanted ceiling of the great hall, but had thought it to be something that her parents had made up; regardless she had hoped that it was real. But what she had imagined and what she was seeing, were two completely different things. There was not a cloud in sight, just the stars gleaming brightly down onto the children, flooding the hall with light and adding on to the aesthetic of it all. She'd have a hard time eating dinner, for she was sure that she would at some point or the other look up to the ceiling and try to locate a constellation or two.

In the background, she heard Hermione Granger explain the phenomenon to a fellow first year and she fought hard to not roll her eyes. The bushy-haired girl was a Remus Lupin in the making.

She saw Professor McGonagall go up the small stairs and stand beside a stool, atop of which sat a ratty old hat, a-ha! So that was the Sorting hat.

Suddenly, one of the seams in the hat opened up as if it was a mouth, many of the first years gasped, and the hat started singing-

'Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,
But don't judge on what you see,
I'll eat myself if you can find
A smarter hat than me.'

Viscenya chuckled at that and looked around the children in the hall; those who were in the second year or above. She had expected them to be just as enthralled in the song as the first years were, but to her surprise (not really) she saw that many of the older children were either craning their necks or looking in the general direction of the first-year crowd, to look at Harry. She was sure she even saw a couple of people point at him. The only person who was diligently looking on towards the hat and actually listening to its song was Perfect, and now prefect, Percy Weasley. Yeah... of course, he was the only one, well him and the first years anyway.

She shook her head and shifted her attention back to the song.

'You might belong in Gryffindor,
Where dwell the brave at heart,
their daring, nerve and chivalry
Set Gryffindors apart;'

Viscenya and Harry both looked at each other, wearing unique grins of their own. Yep, Gryffindor really was the best.

'You might belong in Hufflepuff,
Where they are just and loyal,
Those patient Hufflepuffs are true
And unafraid of toil;
Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,
If you've a ready mind,
Where those of wit and learning,
Will always find their kind;
Or perhaps in Slytherin
You'll make your real friends,
Those cunning folk use any means
To achieve their ends.'

At that Viscenya shot a nasty glare at Draco Malfoy who was looking smug and proud. Slimy git, she thought.

'So put me on! Don't be afraid!
And don't get in a flap!
You're in safe hands (though I have none)
for I'm a Thinking Cap!'

Even if most of the Great Hall had not been paying attention to the song, they burst out in applause regardless. The loudest of it coming from Ron who was the happiest on realising that he didn't have to do anything, although he did turn around and glare at Viscenya half-heartedly, the girl pretended to not have seen him.

Once the applause died down, Professor McGonagall unrolled a sheet of parchment paper and said, "Now, when I call your name, you will put on the hat and the sit on the stool to be sorted." The first person to be called forth was, "Abbot, Hannah!"

A pink-faced girl with blonde pigtails stumbled out of line, she sat down on the stool and placed the hat over her head; her eyes completely covered by its rim. A moment's pause-

"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat.

The table on the right cheered and clapped, as Hannah went on and sat down on the table, the ghost of the Fat Friar waved merrily at her.

Susan Bones was second and she too was sorted into Hufflepuff. Viscenya clapped and cheered for all of them, but a bit of nervous fear wriggled in her stomach unpleasantly. They had already shifted on to the Bs; her name wouldn't be too far.

"Boot, Terry" Professor McGonagall called out, and the boy was sent to house Ravenclaw. The table second on the left clapped loudly and several of his housemates stood up to shake Terry's hands.

"Black, Viscenya!"

Viscenya turned to look at Harry; bewildered. The boy smiled that stupid smile of his and nodded encouragingly. She walked up the short steps to the stool, lifted the hat, placed it on her head and sat down.

With her view effectively blocked by the oversized hat, she found no use in keeping her eyes open. She closed them and waited for it, she waited for the hat to shout it out loud for everyone to hear, "Gryffindor!"-

'So you want to be in Gryffindor eh?' a gravelly voice asked in her head.

A flood of memories bombarded Viscenya's train of thought; memories of all the times people had compared her to her father, of all the times her father had said with conviction that she'd make a great Gryffindor, of that one time on her eleventh birthday when she and Harry had been discussing this very moment – when she had said with full confidence that she belonged to this house.

'Well, it's not really the fact that I want to be in Gryffindor, more like the fact that I'm supposed to be in Gryffindor.' She said simply, really confused why this was a problem, wanting to be something and supposed to be something were essentially the same thing.

'You really think so? There is a major difference between what you're supposed to be and what you actually are young girl.' The hat said in a matter-of-fact voice, if not a bit snidely.

Viscenya bristled; the hat was getting on her nerves. But she knew better than to act rashly at this point. She knew better than to pick fights with an entity that would, in all probability, make one of the most important decisions in her life. She forced herself to cool down and in the sweetest voice that she could achieve, she asked the hat, 'Well what do you say, where should I go?'

Instead of hearing a reply in her head, she heard the reply out-loud, "SLYTHERIN!" the hat shouted out to the Great Hall.

There was applause that rose from some part of the hall, but Viscenya Black didn't register it at all. The hat was lifted from her head and she was met with blinding lights of the thousand candles that hovered over the tables. The warm, inviting glow of the light from before seemed obnoxiously bright and scorching to the girl as she stumbled a bit and made her way down the stairs and towards the Slytherin table. Almost as if she was in a trance, she looked over to where the un-sorted children were and searched the crowd for a mop of black hair. Like before on the boat, she found out that the person with said kind of hair was already looking at her, looking just as (if not more) shocked. She saw Ron reach over to him and whisper something in his ear. She saw Harry look conflicted as he moved his gaze from Viscenya to Ron repeatedly.

She must've reached the Slytherin table in her trance, for her knees buckled a bit as they were met with the wooden bench abruptly. A hand reached out and steadied her and pulled her down to take a seat. Her gaze didn't leave the slowly diminishing group of yet to be sorted first-years. She let her eyes wander a bit and saw the smirking face of Draco Malfoy, looking smug as he always did.

She averted her gaze down to her lap immediately. Eyes brimming with tears; but she blinked them back. It must have been a mistake. That was it. Just because the hat was magical it didn't mean that it was infallible. Something must have gone wrong. In hindsight she had been a bit rude to the hat, she was sure that if the hat had a proper conversation, one that wasn't hurried like this one, and then he'd know that she was actually a good person. She was nice! She helped Neville with Quidditch, sometimes she showed Leo how properly throw a Quaffle. She liked muggles for Merlin's sake! She liked Star Wars! She liked muggle songs! She even liked that movie with the ghosts, the one that her father wasn't fond of, and he was the biggest pro- muggle rights person she had met in her entire life! Her parents were Gryffindors! They had said she was supposed to be in Gryffindor. They wouldn't have lied to her, not about this.

Uncle James always said that you were a closeted Slytherin though, didn't he? A snide voice, similar to that of the hat reminded her.

She shook her head as if the action would clear away the horrid thought. A finger poked her on the right side and she yelped. She was met with the sight of a dark-skinned girl who looked old enough to be a third-year. The girl looked coolly at her and asked, "Okay there Black?"

Viscenya schooled her features the best she could, she couldn't let the gits find out that she was close to bawling her eyes out. She cleared her throat and nodded, sucked in a deep breath and said, "Yeah, Yeah I'm fine." After a minute of assessment, the girl extended her hand towards Viscenya and introduced herself, "Leah Thompson"

Viscenya reached her arm out and shook it, "Viscenya Black," once the handshake broke, she added, "You're actually the first person to talk to me here."

Leah raised an eyebrow, "I know you didn't notice it, but a lot of people wanted to talk to you, you're the first Slytherin to be sorted this year. Also, you're old blood; of course, everyone would salivate at a chance to be chums with you." She explained casually, moving her eyes over to the sorting ceremony. Millicent Bulstrode was sitting on the stool now with the hat over her head, a moment later the hat shouted "SLYTHERIN!" and the table again broke into applause, of course, it wasn't the 'rowdy' or 'obnoxious' applause of the other Houses, this was refined.

Leah too clapped along with them till the girl reached the table. Once she did, the older students waited for her to settle herself and then, with the utmost grace extended their hands towards her. Viscenya hadn't clapped, but she nodded at the fellow first-year all the same. From beside her, Leah patted her shoulder and called for her attention, "Is there a reason why you looked close to crying before?" she asked, not looking a single bit concerned.

Viscenya immediately defended herself, "I wasn't about to cry! What do you think I am six?" she exclaimed hotly, while she kept half her attention focused on the sound of Professor McGonagall's summons, not wanting to miss Harry's sorting.

Leah once again cocked her eyebrow, this time looking amused, "That was a commendable attempt, but you're going to have to try harder if you want to convince people. Don't worry, seven years here, we'll teach you the stuff," Viscenya inwardly groaned, seven years ugh! I have got to get out, she thought. "But tell me really, why were you crying?" Leah asked again persistently.

Viscenya shrugged, craning her neck to look at the ceremony once again.

"Alright then, keep your secrets." Leah acquiesced with a small smile playing on her lips.

She was in the same house as Draco Malfoy, she was in the same house as Pug- face-Parkinson, she was in the same house as Crabbe and Goyle and she was in the same house as Blaise Zabini- although to be fair, she didn't really have anything against him- regardless this was bad. She was supposed to be in Gryffindor! She was supposed to be with Harry and Ron and Neville and Fred and George! Even Hufflepuff would have been better than this.

The entire hall had gone quiet when Harry's name had been called, Viscenya played the memory of the hat yelling out "GRYFFINDOR!" and Harry looking over at her for a brief second before joining the Gryffindor table, over and over again. Wallowing in self-pity was one of her many talents.

For now, the feast had started. Dumbledore had given the speech, said something about some floor and then the food had appeared. Viscenya hadn't really paid any attention to stuff that was going around her, her mind was too preoccupied with all the worrying that she had been doing ever since she had been sorted. She was definitely going to get her house changed, she'd talk to Professor Dumbledore, call her father in if need be. Probably even look up rules and stuff in Hogwarts: A History, to see if there was someone who could overrule the hat's decision.

"Pass the peas will you Black?" asked a voice from her left, breaking her out of her reverie. She looked up and saw Blaise Zabini look expectantly down at her, he was a bit taller than her. She sighed and passed the large bowl of the green food to the boy, "What kind of psychopath eats peas by choice?" she muttered.

She saw the boy smile briefly as though he had heard her comment, but he didn't say anything. He proceeded to scoop two spoonfuls of the food onto his plate and Viscenya momentarily forgot about her problems, she had shifted to disgust. As an act of rebellion, she proceeded to load her plate with roast chicken, even though it was more than what she could eat; it was the spirit of the whole thing that mattered. Blaise looked at her with a raised eyebrow, and that ticked her off further- how could everyone do the eyebrow thing but her! – "Got a problem Zabini?" she asked coldly.

He shook his head, "I don't think I can be friends with you if that is what you eat all the time."

"Well, you won't hear me complaining." The girl said before she shoved a forkful of the chicken in her mouth.

The feast had ended, and they had sung the school song. The first years were making their way down to the Dungeons towards the Slytherin Dorms. Viscenya half- dragged her legs as she walked with the group of children that would be in her year. Her legs felt like lead, partly because of the sleepiness, partly because she was dreading going up to the Common Room. From what she had heard, she was sure that the place would have severed heads of House Elves decorating the walls, or that there would be snakes everywhere. Maybe, there'd be cave-like walls leaking water and blood.

To summarise: She had a bad feeling about this.

They had taken a door on the right side of the Entrance Hall, behind the door there was a set of stone steps that the children descended, this led them to the dungeons.

A bit more of walking- and then the group of children led by the Prefects paused by a stretch of a bare, damp stone wall.

The female prefect turned around in one swift motion and regarded the children, "The Slytherin Dormitories' security has not been breached for about seven centuries, I won't have you lot slipping up and breaking that streak." She said with a steely glint in her eyes, almost automatically all the children straightened up at that, it reminded Viscenya of the effect that Professor McGonagall had on the first years, and she found herself respecting the prefect a bit more, albeit grudgingly.

The prefect turned around once more and faced the wall, "Lace-wing" she said in a clear voice and a stone door concealed in the stone wall slid open at that.

The Slytherin common room was a long, low underground room with rough stone walls and ceiling from which round, greenish lamps were hanging on chains. A fire was crackling under an elaborately carved mantelpiece ahead of them, and several Slytherins were silhouetted around it in high-backed chairs.

The windows seemed to be tainted green, but a while later Viscenya saw something move past them and she realised that they were under the Black lake.

So far she had not found any skulls, nor were the walls dripping with blood. Didn't mean she liked it though! She did not like this at all. Nope, she hated how comfortable the chairs looked, she hated how she could imagine herself curling up on them and dosing off to sleep. The Common Room was shit.

The Prefects had allowed the children to look around for a while, but the time was up. "Listen up you lot!" called out prefect Gemma Farley as Viscenya remembered. "The password changes every fortnight, every password change will be up on the notice board."

"The basic rules you need to follow in this house are quite simple- don't get caught doing something you shouldn't be doing if you do get caught: talk your way out of it. The house of Slytherin has for centuries been the pride of Hogwarts, it has shown the world what truly makes a wizard or a witch their best selves, and we won't have you besmirching that image with your tomfoolery." The guy prefect said with a pointed look to each child.

"Our head of House Professor Snape will be here in the morning to give you your time-tables and to also brief you on things that you'll need to keep in mind. Make sure that you get up on time and dress well, tardiness will not be tolerated." Gemma said as she gave a barely hidden look of disgust to a first-year that still had some food on his chin, his name was Crabbe something if Viscenya remembered correctly.

The other prefect picked up where Gemma left off, "For now- Boys, your dorms are down this passage," he indicated with his hand, "and to the left. And girls, the same to the right. Goodnight." He said sharply with a simple nod of his head.

Both the prefects went to their respective dorms without any delay after that. Viscenya, who would normally want to scope the place out, was too tired to do anything but move in the direction of her dorms. On her way she saw Leah Thompson from before, sitting by a table and writing aggressively on a piece of parchment. As if the girl could sense her gaze, Leah snapped her head towards Viscenya and gave her a two-fingered salute. Viscenya let out a small chuckle and paused in her step to salute the girl back.

It was then when something, or rather somebody, bumped into her. "Better watch where you're going Black," Sneered the familiar voice of Malfoy junior.

"Since it was you who bumped into me, I'd say that I'm fine the way I am," Viscenya said in a matter-of-fact voice, turning around to face the boy. No matter what emotional turmoil she was going through, she would not let The Brat get the upper-hand.

"Let's see how long that attitude lasts with Potter not there to back you up eh?" Malfoy commented snidely.

Viscenya barely suppressed a wince at the mention of Harry. Regardless she stared Malfoy down, with the same steely glint she had seen in Gemma's eyes, hoping that it had the same effect, "Oh it'll last." She said, and with a swish of her robes swerved left and entered the girls' dormitory.

She stormed over to where her trunk was placed, thankfully it was the last bed of the lot; at least she could have some semblance of privacy. After taking out her nightclothes, she went over to where the washrooms were and quickly locked the door, in a frenzy she brushed her teeth and went through her night-time rituals, not wanting to prolong sleep for another moment.

When she returned, her hair was free from the braids she had put them into before and down in natural waves. The other girls were still going through their trunks, unsure of what to say; scared that they might anger the girl further. Even Parkinson, who was basically Malfoy's girlfriend kept quiet.

When Viscenya had settled down and drawn the curtains shut around her bed she heard the faint voice of one of her year mates, somebody who she hadn't learnt the name of say, "Goodnight Viscenya,"

Normally Viscenya would have ignored something like this in stride of her anger, but since she wanted to prove that she was as un-Slytherin as one could be, she wished the unknown girl back, "Good night to you too." She said softly.

It was only when she was sure that everybody had fallen asleep that she allowed her mind to wander. Yes, it had hurt that Harry hadn't sought her out after the sorting, but she'd make it better. Yes, first thing in the morning she'd speak to her house in charge, the headmaster if need be and she'd get her house changed. Yeah... she'd get it changed, she didn't belong in Slytherin. She didn't. She couldn't.