Bravery And Ambition: Chapter 2

A/N: This is a Harry Potter AU, focused around a character transplanted in time, and a friendship older than Hogwarts. If you like it, please review and follow.

Merula had little interest in King's Cross Station. Packed with Muggles, filled to the brim with shouts, horns, and the trundle of departing and arriving trains, it was what her aunt or her mother may have called a Liminal Space. A place that wasn't quite real, wasn't quite in one location, filled with people who were only ever there to go somewhere else entirely. Perhaps it was magical, in its own way, but Merula simply didn't care, because it was a place made for and by Muggles. Whoever cared about Muggles?

The barrier between platforms nine and ten stood unnoticed by the crowds, and Merula took it at the traditional run, passing through the barrier as though it was not there, and arriving smartly on Platform 9 & 3/4's. The scarlet steam engine of the Hogwarts Express was puffing steam merrily into the rafters, while the platform husbanded the Witches and Wizards who had come in early. Having arrived nearly half an hour ahead of departure, it wasn't nearly as crowded as it could be, and Merula felt a little more comfortable to see that she couldn't recognize anyone around her.

"Well, it looks like you haven't mucked up the barrier," said a voice behind Merula. Her aunt Robin emerged from the brickwork, eyeing the train with deep seated disdain and dislike. Merula could only imagine why… maybe it was because she had always been a terrible student and a terrible Witch. That was probably why, when the Death Eaters had grown in power, Robin Snyde had been denied membership, on the basis that she was nearly a Squib. It was that distance had been the difference between a comfortable house in the Welsh countryside, and a cold cell in Azkaban.

"I don't think I can screw up the barrier," Merula retorted. "If you couldn't, I wouldn't."

"…Cheek, young lady," Robin growled, but Merula was already walking towards the train, her eyes on the foremost car behind the engine. While her aunt scowled at her, Merula manhandled her trunk into her compartment before boosting herself up. She turned to her aunt after a moment.

"…Well, don't get expelled," Robin told her. "Or you'll be out on the street."

In her mind, it was probably a polite goodbye. A little warning about the expectations that her niece was expected to uphold. It was still a threat though, so Merula gave her aunt the finger, and Robin left.

With steam drifting placidly around, Merula closed her door behind herself, and settled into her compartment. In truth, she had been waiting for the opportunity her aunt's absence would afford. Somewhere aboard the train would be Harry Potter. Not her Harry Potter mind: the actual, legitimate, real Boy Who Lived, the real Harry Potter. If one started with that supposition, then it was only a matter of deduction to work out that the most important boy in Hogwarts would be aboard the train very early on, meaning he was already aboard the train, and she could meet him and prove that her Harry and the Harry were different people. She'd only need to look at him once to prove that he wasn't her Harry.

(Of course, this supposition only worked if you believed that Harry lived with a family that loved him, and not… the Dursley's, but Merula didn't have that information.)

So with her mind made up, Merula stepped out of her carriage and began to search the Hogwarts Express for Harry Potter.

It should not have been this hard.

Merula had done the smart thing first. She had swallowed her pride, ventured into the Prefect's carriage, found the Hufflepuff Prefect, and asked her quite directly: "Where is Harry Potter. Tell me or else." Really, a fool proof plan.

The Prefect giggled, patted her on the head, and told her that she didn't know. "You could try checking the compartments and going down the train. Just take them one step at a time."

Merula hadn't liked that answer, but she figured that Harry Potter would be deftly easy to find and notice. He would, probably, be surrounded by fans, signing autographs, basking in his celebrity, bragging about his defeat of Voldemort, and generally being a massive tosser. That would make him easy to find, right?

Four cars down though, Merula was starting to doubt her guesswork. So far, she had found ten empty compartments, four seventh years playing exploding snap, two snogging Ravenclaw boys, both Carrow twins, a weirdo dressed as a Dementor, and a girl her age in her Hogwarts robes with spectacularly bushy hair and obnoxious buck teeth. Merula was ready to scream, but then eyed the girl she had found, and decided to scream in the hallway instead.

The door to Bushy Hair's compartment slid open just as Merula was walking away, the girl leaning out. "Excuse me," she asked Merula in a composed and rather bossy voice. "But are you looking for someone or something?"

"No," Merula retorted hotly. "Go away, I don't need help."

"Well, the thing is, I've learned a few spells from my spell books that might help you find whatever you're looking for," the girl interjected, and when Merula gave her a curious look, she continued. "The Point-Me spell may be quite helpful, if you're looking for an object. It doesn't work the best with people, but I've been thinking about how to use it and think it could work."

Merula paused and considered the offer, eyeing the Bushy Hair up and down. "Well, if you'll do all the work, I don't see why not. Sure, go ahead. Show me."

Bushy Hair reached into her robes and pulled out a wand. Seeing Merula's sideways look she presented it. "10 and 3/4 inches, vine wood, with Dragon Heartstring… according to Mr. Olivander. He said that it is one of the more powerful wands he has produced in a long while, as vine wood-"

"Don't care, just cast the Spell," Merula said curtly. Bushy Hair glared at her, and after a moment, Merula noticed she wasn't casting the spell. "What, dragon got your tongue?"

"Apologize for being rude," Bushy Hair said.

"Sure thing. I'll say it now. I shall say… Fuck You," Merula retorted, making Bushy Hair gasp in shock. Merula snickered at her and folded her arms. "I don't need your help you know. I-"

Bushy Hair slammed her compartment door shut.

Merula started back down the corridors, looking into the compartments again and again, wondering wherever could Harry Potter be. Obviously, he would be on the train… it wasn't like he wouldn't know how to get onto the platform. Who would let Harry Potter miss the train to Hogwarts?

(The people who would let Harry Potter miss the train to Hogwarts were currently in their car, driving away, and laughing their heads off at poor Harry.)

It was just after the seventh car that Merula met more… problematic company. A narrow-faced boy with a shock of white-blond hair was in one of the compartments, along with a pug-faced brunette girl, and what appeared to be a shaved gorilla. The blond looked up to Merula just in time for Merula to realize where she had seen him before, and slammed the compartment shut.

Draco Malfoy and his cronies opened the door a moment later, a simpering smirk playing across the boy's face. "Well well well, look who we have here. Merula Snyde, isn't it?"

"…Yeah, it's Merula Snyde," she said with ice in her voice. "Draco Malfoy, right? I take it your daddy finally had the time to find you some little minions?"

"Me and my friends," Draco drawled, in that sort of way that only a Slytherin could when talking about friends, "were just wondering if Hogwarts was keeping the riffraff out this year. Shame they aren't, if you're coming along." Behind him, the girl Merula vaguely recognized as Pansy Parkinson tittered, while the large boy that looked like a Goyle snickered.

"Hogwarts really is going down the drain if they have to let people like you-" which was about as far as Draco got. His sentence encountered the full stop much the way Merula's clenched fist was encountering his face. "AGH!"

Pansy shrieked while the shaved gorilla lurched for Merula. Taking the initiative, Merula grabbed the compartment door and slammed it shut, on Draco's foot. "YOW!" She gave Draco's shin a kick and forced the door closed, bracing her hands over the knob.

For several seconds, Goyle and Merula contested one another over the turning of the latch, before Merula pulled her eyelid down, made a face at Draco, turned, and ran. The door snapped open almost immediately, with Goyle stumbling into the hallway and crashing into the far wall, Draco on his heels. "Don't just stand there you oaf, find her!" Draco bellowed. He and Goyle raced into the hall, both turning and running in opposite directions.

Neither of them noticed that Merula had ducked into the compartment one door down, nor did they see her clutching her stomach and roaring with laughter. If there had ever been a good way to cheer Merula up, it was to have her beat a jackass into the ground, and Draco Malfoy absolutely counted as a jackass.

Merula slipped cautiously down the train from there on, but after another near miss from Goyle as he came up train, she saw neither hide nor hair of the Slytherin pricks. She did, however, find the very end of the train.

The final compartment of the Hogwarts Express was an otherwise unremarkable room, which Merula decided she didn't care for. She would rather be at the front, and it seemed this car was taken. Someone (she couldn't see who from behind the bulk) was trying to maneuver their massive trunk into the car. Merula decided to let that kid handle their trunk themselves, turned on her heel, and went back up train. Harry Potter, it seemed, was not on the train… maybe he was already at Hogwarts, or perhaps he would Floo in dramatically during the Sorting? Who knew…

Harry Potter was not on the train incidentally. Harry Potter was on the platform, struggling mightily to push his trunk into the last most compartment of the train. Not, in the end, that Merula saw that.

"Uh, is this compartment full?"

"No. Can't find somewhere else?"

"My brothers say all the other compartments don't have any room."

"Hey, you can stay here. Say, could you help me with something?"

"Sure?"

"Awesome. Now… where is she…"

Ron Weasley was, in Harry's estimation, a much nicer person than Merula. He was awkward and gangly and had a smudge on his nose, but he was also very much intent on leaving a good first impression. When Harry asked him to help search the train, Ron had jumped right in with him. "I'm pretty decent at finding stuff," he had told Harry at the time.

That had been three cars ago however. Harry and Ron had been steadily going up train, Harry pulling open the various compartments and checking their contents for the familiar messy hair of Merula, and Ron pressing his face into the windows of each car to look in at the numerous other students without a clear idea of who he was looking for. Progress was, naturally, slow.

"So, you grew up with three magic brothers?" Harry asked as they checked a compartment with a gaggle of Hufflepuffs.

"Five," Ron said ruefully. "But Charlie's already graduated, and Bill left Hogwarts early. Everyone keeps expecting me to do something spectacular."

"Why's that?" Harry asked, opening a door and finding two Gryffindor girls kissing.

"Because everyone's done something amazing. Bill wasn't even of age when he helped my dad find and arrest a bunch of Dark Wizards. Charlie was a Seeker on the Quidditch team for Gryffindor. And Percy's gonna be Head Boy, he keeps saying he will be. Even Fred and George, my twin brothers, have something: they're pranksters and everyone thinks they're a riot."

"Well, if it means anything to you, I didn't know I was a Wizard until- OH SHIT!" Harry blurted out, as a cat jumped at him from the compartment he had opened. It landed on his face, sprung off towards Ron, and started mauling the red head.

"GEROFF, GEDDIT OFF!" Ron shouted, grabbing the cat and bowling it at the shrieking Slytherin boy. He and Harry slammed the compartment door shut. "…So what was that about not knowing you were a Wizard?"

Harry took off at a jog to outrun the shouting cat owner. "Well, when I was sent to live with my aunt and uncle, they didn't tell me I was magic. I didn't even know about Lord Voldemort until my friend talked about him."

At Ron's gasp, Harry quickly waved his hands defensively. "I know I shouldn't say his name, but I don't really care. My friend Merula kept saying it."

Harry and Ron made it to the next car, where Ron gave Harry a confused look. "So wait, if you didn't know you were magic, how come you have a magical friend?"

"Merula's a Witch," Harry explained. "She attended my Muggle primary school, and sort of told me about magic. She didn't really prove it to me though, until the day my Hogwarts letter arrived. She was never afraid of talking about Volde- You Know Who."

"It's just… I would think you… wait…" Ron suddenly looked very pensive… and then incredibly alarmed. "Merula? You mean… Merula Snyde!?"

"Yeah," Harry said. "I mean, I guess you might know that her parents were dark wizards. She said it was big news."

"Know it? My brother helped crack that case!" Ron said, flabbergasted that Harry Potter would call the daughter of a dark witch and wizard a friend. "He and my dad took that whole case and used it to send a bunch of You Know Who's followers to Azkaban. And you're telling me she was your friend?"

"…Well, she is my best friend," Harry said, emphasizing the present tense and giving Ron a bit of side-eye. He wasn't sure he liked where this was going. "And she's always gonna be my best friend. She kept me safe from bullies and even trusted me with knowing that magic was real."

"But she's… she's practically a follower of You Know Who in training," Ron insisted. "She's dangerous."

"She's eleven," Harry retorted. With a grin, he added: "And she's great at flying. She took me up on her broomstick for a flight over my hometown."

"WHAT!?" Ron blurted, turning from worried to jealous on a Knut. "No way! That sounds awesome!"

"It really was," Harry admitted. "She's a great flier too, maybe she can try out for Quidditch. I still don't know how to play it, but it sounds like a lot of fun."

"She'll probably end up in Slytherin though," Ron said ruefully. "And then they'll keep winning the school Quidditch Cup. It really irked my brother Charlie that he couldn't win it last year."

"Sounds like someone should try playing for a winning team. Of course, any team will get dragged down by you, Weasley," drawled a familiar voice. Harry and Ron turned from their ongoing hunt to see the narrow-faced boy he had met in Diagon Alley. He was coming down the corridor, flanked by a pug faced brunette and a boy who seemed to be a shaved gorilla. "What are you doing out and about? Looking for some of your own glory?"

"Malfoy…" Ron grumbled darkly, and Harry intuited that the boy in front of him must be named such. "No, we're out looking for some money. Figured we'd be charitable for you and your dad. How is he, still working at Borgin and Burke's?"

Malfoy's eyes flashed darkly. "Well, we'll see about that. Give my family time and our fortunes turn around. And for your information, I'm out looking for Harry Potter. I heard he's on the train."

Malfoy preened in a way reminiscent of a large and surly peacock. "Students like him need to be warned away from over-zealous riffraff like you. You'd probably take one look at Potter's scar and throw him to the Aurors for practicing the Dark Arts."

"You want to talk to Harry Potter?" asked the black-haired midget in glasses next to Ron. "Why are you looking for that tosser? You could be hanging out with Ron Weasley, Auror-in-waiting." Harry gestured to Ron, who looked quite taken aback and confused over this turn of identity.

Malfoy rolled his eyes. "I didn't catch your name in Diagon Alley. Maybe you'd like to mention it now, so I can help you hang around the right sort, eh?"

"…His name's Neville Longbottom, and I'm sure he'll be hanging around the right sort for a while yet," Ron said smoothly, having cottoned on to Harry's game. He started examining his fingernails to sell the effect. "Maybe you should talk to Harry Potter, see what he thinks of you."

"I've heard that Harry Potter is the sort to not let a few rules get in his way," Malfoy retorted. "Apparently he was nearly arrested for flying over Muggle London, but they let him off with a warning. Boys like him are too famous to care about what Muggles think."

"So why do you want to hang out with a criminal?" Harry asked, though he was wondering where Draco had heard about his flight with Merula. "Want to go with him on a heist? Steal some of Potter's gold out of Gringotts?"

The girl with Draco snickered softly, clamming up when he shot a glare at her. The shaved Gorilla flexed his arms and started towards Harry and Ron. The boys didn't back up away from the much larger student… no, when they took steps backwards, it was because they were giving him strategic room.

Malfoy sneered. "Oh, run away Weasley. Maybe your big brother Bill will come around to save you?"

Goyle shoved Ron, before bellowing in shock and pain: something small and brown had leapt from Ron's shirt and was now furiously latched to Goyle's forefinger. Harry, thinking fast, pulled out his wand and thought of a spell. The only one that he could think of was one that Merula had said long ago. "Avada Kadavra!"

The effect was instantaneous. The small creature that had bit Goyle squealed and fell off him. Ron jumped back so hard his shoulder smashed into the wall of the corridor. Malfoy and his cronies gasped and bolted. "We won't forget this Longbottom!" Malfoy roared, before slamming the door to the next car shut behind them.

Harry paused, pocketed his wand, and picked up the rat that had been biting Goyle. "I think he's okay… here you go Ron. Nice rat."

Ron was shaking a little himself when he took his pet rat back. "Th-thanks… uh. You… did you mean, to… you know… cast that spell?"

"What, that's a real spell?" Harry asked. "I thought Merula made it up to scare my cousin."

Ron pocketed his rat into his shirt and patted him gently. "It's okay Scabbers, it's okay… well, that's a real spell. A dark curse. My dad says that only people who really want to kill someone can ever use it."

Harry shrugged. "Well, I guess that rules me out. It sounds a lot like Abracadabra."

"That's a Muggle spell, right?" Ron asked, as he and Harry turned back towards their compartment. With Malfoy the other way, searching the train wasn't going to be working any time soon.

"Yeah, it is," Harry answered, and he and Ron slowly shifted away from their search to idle chit chat… and soon, Harry found out that he had made another new friend.

"First Years! First Years, follow me! First years, follow me!"

In the gloom of Hogsmeade station, Hagrid and his great lantern shone all the brighter, with Harry quickly gravitating to the shadow of the man who had brought him to Diagon Alley. Hagrid beamed down as Harry came into view. "Well there ya are lad. I see the train was a fun ride for you. Who's this?"

"I'm Ron Weasley," Ron answered, looking up in awe at the mountain of a man.

Hagrid chuckled. "I'd recognize that red hair anywhere. Spent most of my time keeping your brothers out of the Forbidden Forest, the Twins and Charlie. Percy's Prefect I take it? Good for him, maybe he can keep ya brothers on the straight and narrow?"

Ron snorted, and Harry giggled. "Hagrid, I actually wanted to ask you something. I need a favor, someone to find."

"Maybe once we're in the castle then?" Hagrid told him, before standing up straight again. "First years to me! We'll not be taking the carriages inta Hogwarts! First years!"

Merula Snyde stepped off the train, catching the call for students and leveling a little glare at Hagrid. He was so huge, Merula immediately believed her aunts tales about the Savage on Hogwart's grounds. He had to be a Giant, not half, full Giant. "Freak," she muttered, but fell in with the slow tide of First Year students.

Hagrid turned and set off into the woods around the station, Merula taking care to follow behind a girl she thought was Ernie MacMillan, staying as far away from Draco Malfoy as she could. She glanced up and down the line of students as they marched through the impenetrable darkness, seeing a few she didn't recognize, and a few she did, but none of them stood out like the Boy Who Lived should have. "Ugh… where is he…"

Harry Potter, the Boy-Merula-Thought-Was-a-Muggle, had gotten something of an honor: Hagrid was letting him and Ron lead the way, navigating the narrow forest track down to the lake. Then, as the woods gave way and the shining moonlit waters spread out before them, a gasp rippled up and down the line of students. Hogwarts Castle, perched on a vast cliff over the lake, gleamed with candle and torchlight, with endless spires and ramparts rising into the velvet black sky.

"Wicked…" Ron whispered, mouth agape at the sight. Harry didn't even bother to try to speak, his eyes transfixed over his new home, as boys through all of history had been. Hogwarts was beautiful.

A line of boats had been pushed up onto the lake shore before they arrive. "Alright everyone, pick a boat, stay inside of them. No more than four to a boat, alright?" Hagrid told them, but then a commotion broke out. "Now now, what's going on here?"

Draco Malfoy had forced his way to the front of the group of students, looking suitably messy. Merula got shoved out of the way, and after shooting a glare at him rolled her eyes: Draco had clearly taken a walk into the woods to look disheveled. "You, P-professor Hagrid," Draco said, looking like he had to fight to use the word Professor. "Neville Longbottom… he just tried to kill me!"

A hush fell over the students, before a torrent of whispers followed. Even Merula was a little stunned, giving Draco a bewildered look. Harry and Ron, however, snorted.

"Tried to kill ya?" Hagrid asked, sounding shocked. "Why'd he do that?"

"I don't know!" Draco whined melodramatically, and Merula lost all ability to believe him. "But he cast an Unforgivable at me! I only survived by the skin of my teeth!"

Hagrid stared at Draco, before turning to a small pudgy blond boy next to him. "Neville, why'd ya do that?"

"I didn't," said the boy.

"WHAT!?" Draco shrieked, confusion leaking into his tone. Merula really had to fight not to laugh now: Draco was completely overdoing it. "NO, I WAS ATTACKED BY NEVILLE LONGBOTTOM!"

"I am Neville Longbottom," said the pudgy boy.

"No you aren't!" Draco retorted, becoming thoroughly bewildered. He glanced around, and then pointed to a small boy with messy black hair and round glasses standing at the edge of the lake. "He is!"

The class of first years all turned to stare at the brunette or to jostle for a better view of him. Merula found herself needing to force her way past Pansy Parkinson to see… well, then she stopped. Then her jaw dropped.

"Hi everyone," her Harry Potter said.

Hagrid glanced at Harry, then at Draco, then at Neville, then grunted softly. "Now now young lad, ya shouldn't go lying about people, 'specially people you don't actually know. That's not Neville Longbottom, not at all."

"…Harry…" Merula breathed softly. Then her brain started working again, and she marched her way forward. "Harry Potter, what the Hell!"

"Merula!" Harry replied, very much excited. He ran up to her, almost hugged her, and got a face full of hand to keep him off her. "I've been looking everywhere for you."

"How did you get through the barrier, or on the train, or to the Lake!?" Merula interrogated, not at all letting Harry hug her. "You shouldn't have done that, you're a Muggle. How'd you get here… why? Why are you here? Think you'll get sorted or something?"

"Well, you see-" Harry began.

"I can't believe you sometimes. I leave you with my Hogwarts letter and you find a way to sneak onto Platform 9 & 3/4's. I can't leave you alone for a second, can I?"

"So, I learned that-"

"And of all the things to do after that, you somehow go around pretending you're Neville Longbottom? To Draco Malfoy? And trying to kill him? Jeez, you're such a handful!"

"Merula, the thing is-"

"So you've got about five seconds to tell me why I shouldn't throw you in the lake, dredge you out, march you to the train, and take you back to London on the morning track, alright!?" Merula declared.

A small, quiet silence descended onto the lake shore. Harry was blushing and smiling at Merula's overarching anger, and the students were all staring. Hagrid broke the silence with a clicked of his tongue. "Uh, young lady? That's Harry Potter."

"I know that!" she retorted. "There are loads of Harry Potter's out there. This one happens to be my friend."

"You know another Harry Potter?" Ron interjected, getting a scornful look from Merula. Undaunted, he continued: "Well, he has the scar. The name. The dead parents. Sounds like he's the Harry Potter he's supposed to be."

"I am," Harry said cheerfully. When Merula gave him a very skeptical look, he just shrugged. "I am! Hogwarts letter and everything. I even have a wand, see." He pulled out a wand to show off.

Merula looked at her friend. She eyed his lightning bolt scar. She thought about him for a few moments. She examined her smiling friend. Then her eyes became as wide as dinner plates. "You-"

"Apparently," Harry told her cheerfully.

"But-"

"I know," he told her with a smile.

"I, I-"

"It's a big shock, eh?"

Merula blinked, and then threw her arms straight up. "…HOW!?" she shrieked.

"Well, I think it all started when Harry met Voldy," Harry began with a grandiose flourish.

"No! How did I not know you were… were…" Merula was feeling increasingly ridiculous. How had she not realized that her best friend was the most important person in Britain?

Because she hadn't thought that the most important person in Britain would be brought up to know nothing of his magical heritage, or his parents, or even his name. Because she had thought that the Boy Who Lived would have lived with loving relatives. Because, in the end, Merula hadn't considered that the Dursley's would be assholes to their only nephew.

Unable to articulate this wisdom, Merula just repeated herself. "…How…"

Draco interjected then. "Harry Potter tried to kill me on the train! With an Unforgivable! And he tried to blame Neville Longbottom!"

Maybe, if he hadn't led with "Neville tried to kill me" he may have been believed. Instead, Hagrid decided to answer him. "Alright, that's enough of that hogwash. Into boats everyone, no more than four, go on."

With questions unanswered, Harry, Ron, and Merula all climbed into a boat, smiling widely or staring in shock. "…So… did you try to kill Draco Malfoy?"

"I didn't know about the spell I was using. I just copied something you said, I didn't know it was a dangerous spell. I thought it was, like, Abracadabra."

Merula stared at Harry… and then she snorted. "That's kickass."

Harry had never seen something so magnificent as Hogwarts, either from the shore of the Black Lake, or from the foot of the great rock it perched upon, or from the vast interior of its grounds. As the First Years crossed the lake, and then ascended to the grounds, the ancient marble stones shone above them with countless torches and floating candles, the wind whispering between the towers, an endless thrum of whispers that seemed to go beyond the amazement and marvel of the students. It felt like the very bedrock of the school yearned to teach all it knew.

"Tch. You look like you just learned you'd get your own broom," Merula chided lightly as he and her crossed the great lawn. She was grinning knowingly at Harry; certain she could guess just how amazed he was. Harry suspected that Merula could only figure a fraction of his feelings though.

"Er, yeah?" Harry whispered. He glanced at Merula with an eyebrow raised. "You're not amazed?" he asked her.

"Mmm… I mean, it's just a castle," Merula said, trying to be nonchalant. Still, Harry could tell that Merula was excited to be there with him, looking up to the spires and bridges and endless windows as they marched along the castle grounds.

"Just a castle? It's Hogwarts," Ron hissed back. Harry was only a little surprised to see his suspicious look towards Merula, or to see Merula's own glare appear and direct itself at him.

"Let's see, red hair, freckles, shabby clothes. You must be a Weasley," she said, drawling like Draco. "Harry, how did you meet this one?"

"He wanted to help me find you on the train," Harry told her. "Ron said he was good at finding things. But we ran into Malfoy and… that all happened."

Merula shot Ron a very suspicious look. "You shouldn't have bothered with him. He and his family aren't worth your time."

"Alright, you think you're so cool?" Ron muttered darkly. "You didn't even know you were friends with Harry Potter. How's that for not being worth your time."

"Stop it, both of you," Harry said softly. "Ron, she's nice. Merula, he's worth my time."

Merula and Ron glared at one another, before huffing and looking away. Harry sighed exasperatedly and hoped that the feeling of being friends with two people who couldn't stand one another wouldn't become normal.

…Poor Harry.

Hagrid led them to two oaken doors and rapped his hand against them three times. Three sonorous booms accompanied the act, and for a moment the students were silent, waiting with bated breath. Then the doors swung open.

A stern faced witch with jet black hair and emerald robes stood in the doorway, her eyes glittering behind her square spectacles. Harry gulped, instantly realizing that this witch was not one to cross. He sent Merula a look, but Merula could identify the witch however, the real Neville Longbottom suddenly piped up. "Good evening, Professor Minerva."

The students giggled, while the woman blinked and turned her sharp gaze into the crowd of new students. "That's Professor McGonagall, Mr. Longbottom," she explained curtly. She turned to Hagrid. "The first years, I presume?"

"Well, you'd be right," Hagrid said, and then, swept along by the mirth of the moment, added: "Not completely sure though. All em' students are all so tiny."

Harry covered his mouth to stop more giggles. Hagrid was so enormous that everyone qualified as tiny, compared to him. When Professor McGonagall turned a sharp eye to him, Hagrid straightened up. "Uh, yes. The first years, Professor."

"Very good," McGonagall said, before pushing the doors wide open to admit the new students. Harry, Merula, and Ron moved in close together, into a vast and beautiful entrance hall, with an enormous stone staircase leading up to the higher floors, while two sealed doors off to one side rang with the faint noises of students talking. McGonagall didn't lead them into that room however, but instead took them into a small side room.

She seemed to pause and take in the group of students before her, and Harry was suddenly possessed by the notion that she was counting them. When she reached the number 37, she paused, and redoubled, before shaking her head, and beginning her speech. "The start of term banquet will commence shortly, but before that you must be Sorted into your Houses. It is a very important ceremony in Hogwarts."

"Sorting… she means between Slytherin and Hufflepuff?" Harry asked Ron in a hiss.

"That's right," Ron said. "There are four Houses, but you don't want to end up in Slytherin."

"Slytherin's fine," Merula said dismissively. "I'm going there if I can manage it."

"But… how are we gonna be sorted?" Harry asked.

"Don't know," Ron told him honestly. "Fred and George said we had to fight a Troll."

"That's ridiculous," Merula retorted softly. "There's a hat: you reach into it, and whatever animal you pull out determines which House you're in."

"Which House is for rabbits?" Harry asked in bewilderment. Merula and Ron stared at Harry, then shared a look, and then snickered, and then glared at each other.

McGonagall swept them through a doorway and led the newest students into the Great Hall. Four long tables were laid out before them, each one covered with students of the four Houses. A fifth table stood at the very front of the Hall, occupied with the teachers of Hogwarts. Harry recognized Hagrid quickly enough, and Professor Quirrel whom he had met in Diagon Alley, and seated at the very center with his beard shining… "Albus Dumbledore," he whispered to Merula.

"Mmm… Fuck him…" Merula whispered back. She and Harry snickered, while Ron gave them a perplexed and somewhat indignant look. The students of the first year arrived at the front, and with McGonagall's prompting turned around. Before them, the crowd of students came to a hush.

There was a stool brought out, with a ragged and beaten hat placed atop it. The hat was patched and frayed in several places, with stitching crisscrossing it like lines on a map. It looked so old, in Harry's mind, that he jumped nearly a foot in the air when the largest of rips opened wide… and the hat began to sing.

"…" Merula stared at it, for several seconds, and then leaned over to Harry. "You'd think you've never seen a talking hat before," she quipped. "What are you, a Magician or a Muggle?"

"Shut up," hissed Harry. He turned to listen to the Sorting Hat describe the houses. The Cunning and Ambitious for Slytherin, the Hardworking and Loyal for Hufflepuff, the Wise and Studious for Ravenclaw, and the Brave and Noble for Gryffindor. And all they had to do was put the Hat on.

…Shame about the crowd though.

"You said your entire family was in Gryffindor?" Harry asked Ron, who nodded. Harry glanced over the table, to see the flaming red hair of the Weasley Twins, and Percy the Prefect.

"Gryffindor, also known as, Cannon Fodder," Merula said with a sneer. She nodded to the table on the far side of the hall from Gryffindor. "I'll be a Fourth Generation Slytherin, just you wait," she told Harry. Harry himself looked at the table and couldn't help but think they looked quite a bit less warm than Gryffindor. His mind suddenly lurched back to Diagon Alley, where he had met the other future Slytherin Draco Malfoy, and Hagrid's warning about Slytherin producing only Dark Witches and Wizards.

"Uh, Merula-" Harry said, before McGonagall interrupted him.

"Hannah, Abbott," she said, and the Sorting began.

"Yeah?" Merula asked as Hannah became a Hufflepuff to wild applause.

"Well… don't only Wicked Witches and Wizards go to Slytherin?" Harry asked, as Terry Boot was called forward.

"Eh. Slytherins for the Ambitious," Merula pointed out, while Terry became a Ravenclaw, to cheers and whoops. "Some take that too far."

"I mean, you won't, will you?"

"Ambition isn't bad," Merula said. "You'll see when you get in there."

The Sorting continued. Ron groaned softly when Hermione was sorted into Gryffindor, and Merula added to Harry: "See, that's someone to avoid. She's bossy and annoying."

"We know," Harry told her. "We met her on the train, she was helping the actual Neville Longbottom find his toad."

"She's a nuisance," Merula said.

"Ye-up," Ron said, with Harry smiling behind them both. Hopefully, they'd become better friends.

The Sorting slowly continued.

Neville Longbottom sat down on the stool, felt the hat fall over his ears and eyes, and waited.

"…Hmm…" the Hat said in his ear. "Frank and Alice's son. Got a good heart boy, want to do some good in the world. Not afraid to let it get to you either."

"Thanks," Neville whispered. "You know, Professor Minerva said you were pretty forgiving about which houses you send people to."

"Did she now? Well, she was a Hat Stall herself: we couldn't make up our minds between Gryffindor or Ravenclaw. Eventually, she asked for Gryffindor. Let me guess… you want to go to Hufflepuff?"

"I want to make my parents proud," Neville said in answer, his mind made up. "But… could you do me a favor?"

"Hmm?"

"…Could you shout Dingleberry like it's a House?"

"DINGLEBERRY!"

The typical roar of applause started before promptly falling apart, much like a Marching Band that had collectively tripped. Neville and the Hat snickered. "Just kidding! GRYFFINDOR!"

Draco Malfoy closed his eyes as the hat fell over his ears. "A Malfoy. I know where to put you. Tell me though, boy: what's your ambition?"

Draco's jaw clenched. "I'm going to restore my family's honor and fortune, it's place. We're not going to be stuck with the rabble forever, we're Purebloods. I won't let anything stop me."

"…Good luck boy, you'll need it. Also, the old pun has been out of fashion since the 1500's. SLYTHERIN!"

Harry took a deep breath as the Hat fell over his eyes. He stared into the black fabric of the brim, wondering what would happen now, and dreading it. Then, the soft voice started in his ear.

"Mmm… tempting, this one. Such a big heart… such strong ideals… and such ambition…"

Harry took a deep breath. "Not Slytherin… Not-"

"Slytherin?" The Hat chuckled softly. "Slytherin would do well for you boy. A good head on your shoulders… a sharp wit too. You can be cunning. Ambitious. And your friend, Merula…"

Harry was suddenly seized by a small panic. He didn't want to risk being a Dark Wizard… but Merula… "Could… could you send her to Gryffindor?"

"And now you're trying to bargain?" the Hat teased. "Fighting to get what you want is the very definition of Ambition boy. You could go far in Slytherin…"

Harry gulped. "But… maybe I can keep my friendship with her? If we do end up in different houses."

There was a pause. "…In times like these…" the Hat murmured. "I like to frame the choices of those I'm thinking about. Are you Brave enough to stick with your friend in Slytherin… or Ambitious enough to be her friend in Gryffindor?"

Harry didn't know what to say to that. "I… but isn't that backwards?"

"After a fashion, I'd say. But in my mind, it works out well. Dreaming big, or dreaming brave. Know what you're on about, boy?"

Harry, in the end, did.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Merula was breathing heavily as the Hat slipped over her eyes. "Well well," the Hat murmured. "The famous Merula Snyde. I've heard a lot about you, from Harry."

"…Why didn't he go to Slytherin?" Merula asked the Hat.

"Sad he'll be in the other House?" The Hat said. "Well, we can fix that in just a beat, if you'd want to."

"Wait, what?" Merula asked in confusion. "You mean… I get to choose my House?"

"Plenty of students do," the Hat told her. "Why, I created a fifth House on the spot and sorted Longbottom into it. He'll do well in Dingleberry."

"…You're fucking with me, aren't you?" Merula realized.

"Maybe," the Hat teased. "But… you're quite the conundrum. Never taking No for an answer… but always ready to stand up for yourself, no matter how big the other person is. Faithful to your friend, even when you thought he was just a Muggle? Even ready to break the family tradition for him, are you?"

Merula's breath caught in her throat. For a moment, she imagined her parents, out in the North Sea, in Azkaban, getting the news from a Dementor with the Daily Prophet. "Merula Snyde breaks tradition… becomes a Gryffindor."

"Oh, toss off with that," the Hat chided, reading her thoughts. "Part of bravery isn't being fearless, it's doing what you want to do despite being afraid. Right now, I'd say you're afraid of losing your friendship with Harry, if you go into Slytherin. You'd have to be very brave to join Slytherin, right about now."

"The Slytherins don't like you Snyde. Many of them blame you for what your parents did. And the only reason you want to be there is cause your parents would want you in their House."

"Yeah, but Gryffindor…" Merula said, swallowing despite how dry her mouth was. "It's all just… they're morons. All of them. Never look before they leap. I'm not impulsive, I'm not foolhardy."

"No, you're not. You think. You understand. You feel fear, and you want to do what you want to do because you don't care about that. Slytherin is a den of vipers for you: Gryffindor is safe, at least for you. You'll be able to grow without looking over your back every ten minutes, able to spread your wings and be your own woman. Slytherin is your parents ambition: your friendship is your own."

"W-wait…" Merula murmured. "Wait, isn't that backwards? Shouldn't Gryffindor be the house of the brave, and Slytherin the house of the ambitious?"

"That's the rub, eh?" The Hat said warmly. "Which is it girl. Brave enough for Slytherin? Or Ambitious enough for Gryffindor?"

Merula spluttered. "I… I…" Finally though, she fell silent, her mind made up.

The Hat snickered softly. "SLYTHERIN!"

The Slytherin and Gryffindor tables were, it turned out, on opposite sides of the Great Hall. If two people sat at either table and looked across, there would be a good fifty feet between them. Over the raucous din of the scraping of chairs, and the shifting of bodies, and the applause of new members of old houses, you couldn't even shout and be heard from the other side of the Hall.

Harry Potter and Merula Snyde sat at opposite tables, trapped in an old enmity that neither of them fully understood. Maybe, when they were older, they would come to understand why Salazar Slytherin and Godric Gryffindor had been the dearest of friends, then the bitterest of rivals, and finally the most hated of enemies… but they were eleven, acting out an old, old tale. It set Severus Snape on edge.

Severus Snape sat above and apart from the hustle and bustle of the students of Hogwarts, watching Potter watch Snyde, his eyes flickering from the son of James Potter over to his nominal partner in conversation, Professor Quirrell. "Well S-Severus. I'm s-saying that you ha-have to see the… the b-brighter side… of things."

"And what is the brighter side," Severus said silkily, turning his gaze as Potter was shaken by one of the Weasleys. "You seem to think that just because I won't fall foul of the old Jinx supposed to hang over the Defense Against the Dark Arts position, I should be happy?"

"I-I-I…" Quirrell stammered. He rallied with mighty effort and said: "Well… y-yes. Shouldn't you… b-be happy? S-safe, for another y-year."

Severus subtly marshalled his expression, purging the emotions of resentment and annoyance from him, and strengthened his Occlumency shield. Dumbledore had warned him about what had become of Quirrell, with neither him nor Albus knowing the full story, but the change in disposition was beyond indicative. Someone, and they suspected it was Voldemort, had gotten his hooks into Quirrell. "You will find that my desires and my reality rarely accord…" Severus told his colleague.

Severus' gaze flickered to the Gryffindor table… and locked onto Harry's own. He had Lily's eyes, precisely her eyes, and Severus took a deep breath. Then, Harry's eyes flickered to Quirrell, and suddenly he flinched, his hand up on his forehead, no doubt touching the scar left behind by Voldemort. Severus looked at Quirrell again. "Though you may find that the facts of reality can change… quite quickly…"

Quirrell broke into an almost hysterical stammer, and Severus returned his gaze to the student body. Now his eyes wandered to the messy haired girl, Merula Snyde, and he wondered what her association with Potter was. Perhaps… a star struck fan who had said something sweet and simpering to Potter? Maybe an ambitious little girl whose memory of her imprisoned parents made her eager to rise above her circumstance? Whatever their relationship was-

"Aye, you're enjoying the new crop of Slytherins?" Hagrid suddenly rumbled from the other side of Quirrell. Snape turned a cool glare towards the larger man, but Hagrid was too jovial to care.

"The House is quite diminished in these days…" said Snape. The debacle of the Snydes, and then Arthur Weasley's little crusade, had seen the families of more than a few prospective students chased off. Vincent Crabbe and Theodore Nott would have been in this year, but Crabbe's mother was seeing him homeschooled, and Nott was attending Durmstrang. "I don't consider what I see to be all that promising."

"Well, I'm sure you'll like that Snyde girl," Hagrid told him, and Severus schooled his expression to one of disinterest. "She's supposed to be a bright one, from what I've heard, though she can be a bit of a handful."

"Hag-grid," Quirrell spluttered. "Y-you sound like you k-k-know her…"

"Second Hand. She was Harry Potter's best friend from their old Muggle school."

Snape was thunderstruck, and the revelation came so quickly that he failed to conceal it. Fortunately, Quirrell and Hagrid were only people who would notice, and they weren't looking at him. He hastily glanced back to Potter and Snyde, who were still staring across the Great Hall at one another.

And then, Snape saw, Harry stood up.

"…Oh, you'll be starting with matches to needles…"

"…I'm half and half. Mum's a witch, da's a Muggle…"

"Harry?"

"…I knew the Hat would say it. My dad told me it likes a joke now and then…"

"Harry, are you in there?"

"…Oh, I do hope everything-"

"Harry!" Ron tapped Harry on the shoulder and pulled his friend out of a stupor. Harry blinked in surprise, looking at Ron. "You alright mate?"

Was he alright? Really, was he? "Yeah… yeah, I'm fine," Harry said to Ron, blinking a few times to put himself right. His head… no, his scar was aching. Stinging. "Something the matter with you?"

Ron tilted his head quizzically. "You're just… staring off into space, is all. Like you're not really here?"

Harry blinked. Not really there… well… he sort of knew how that felt. He sort of wanted to be somewhere else.

Harry glanced over across the tables, around the other students and towards the Slytherin table. Merula was intermittently visible, behind a tall Ravenclaw girl, who kept shifting in her seat and letting Harry catch glimpses. Merula was whittling away at a roast or a pile of mashed potatoes or a roll, or looking up at the beautiful, enchanted ceiling, or off and around her table.

"Oh, I see," Ron said after a moment. "Well, that's too bad. Should have gotten sorted into Gryffindor."

"What?" Harry asked, before Ron pointed at Merula. "O-oh… yeah. I mean, you don't get to choose where you get sorted to, right?"

"Don't think so…" Ron said thoughtfully. Then his eyes lit up. "Did you? Is that why you spent a whole minute under the hat?"

"I… I mean, yeah," Harry said. "The hat said I could be in either Gryffindor… or…" Harry didn't want to think about the other possibility.

"Hufflepuff," Ron guessed. He patted Harry on the shoulder. "Don't worry, I wouldn't admit it either if the Hat wanted to make me a Puff."

He adopted a look of pensive reflection, like a chess grandmaster overlooking all the angles. "You know, I bet she was up for all four houses, considering how long she was under the Hat. Chose Slytherin… can't imagine why."

"It's because she wants to make the Pun," Fred Weasley interjected.

"You know how all those snakes are like," George declared knowingly.

"They get the run of the school for choice, and in the end all they want to do is…"

"The Pun is Slither in," Percy explained to Harry, ruining the joke.

Harry watched the twins glare at Percy for his anti-joke. "…Okay. So why did she choose Slytherin?"

"Cause her family was in it," interjected the real Neville Longbottom suddenly. "They're all ambitious to a fault. Take every chance to get what they want if they can manage it. Best thing you can do around a Snyde is try to get what you can and then get out of the way."

Harry, who hadn't known anything about Neville other than he was a person with an odd sense of humor whom he had briefly impersonated, gave his year mate a look of total surprise. "Oh… uh… I'll… keep that in mind," he said.

Neville stuck out a hand. "Neville Longbottom. And you're Harry Potter. It's nice to meet you, Harry."

"Nice to meet you too," Harry said, shaking the other boy's hand.

"Neville here has an Auror for a dad," Ron explained. "Frank Longbottom is one of the best magical law men in Britain. My brother Bill worked with him for a little." Ron took a moment to bite into a roll. "Am iz mummer iz nigh."

Ron gulped down the roll. "His mother is nice."

"Oh…" Harry said, having returned to looking across the room to Merula. She had taken to balancing a fork on her goblet. "That's… nice."

Neville looked over his shoulder at Merula and shook his head. "You shouldn't pay her any mind," he warned. "She's a bad sort-"

Harry stood up. "Uh… Percy?"

Percy the Prefect, having been deeply engrossed in a conversation with Hermione Granger, took a moment to spare Harry a look. "Yes Harry? Something the matter?"

"Do students have to eat at their House tables?" Harry asked. A strange thought was going through his mind, from where it had come he did not know. But it was there, right now. "Can we eat anywhere?"

Percy paused, his mind rolling through the enormous catalog of rules the school boasted. "Hmm… no, I don't believe there is a rule against it. Why's that? Want to go dine with the Hufflepuffs? Despite what you've heard, they don't really get tastier food."

Harry hadn't heard that rumor, and he didn't care. Instead, he disentangled himself from his seat and started across the Great Hall. Heads had turned with Harry had gone under the Sorting Hat, and now heads turned again. Whispers dogged him.

"Where's he going?"

"He off to bed, this early?"

"Betcha he wants to speak to Dumbledore."

Harry rounded the end of the table, crossing swiftly to the Slytherin side of the room. He made it two steps up the table before a burly Slytherin Sixth Year rose against him. "Hang on now. You're a Gryff," the big guy said.

"Yeah, but I have a friend up the table," Harry told him, trying to walk around him. The Sixth year stepped into Harry's path again. "I just want to sit with her."

"You don't get to sit at our table," the elder boy said. "Folks like Marcus Flint'll knock your ears off. You ain't a Slytherin.

"Then I'll stand, okay, I just want to see my friend," Harry repeated, only to find his way blocked again by the Slytherin. "There aren't any rules against it, so let me go up."

"You should know… I'm Marcus Flint," the boy said with an evil sort of grin.

"Let him go Flint," said a voice behind Harry. A burly Gryffindor fifth year has materialized behind Harry, with both Weasley Twins at his back. "He's not a Quaffle, you don't need to stop him."

Harry had no idea what a Quaffle was, but he saw Flint's eyes jump to the boy behind him and ducked underneath his arm in the lapse. A quick dash up the table brought him to Merula, who was sullenly eating some mashed potatoes. "Hey Merula."

"…Go away," Merula said petulantly.

"Huh?" Harry, instead of going away, sat down at the table and ignored the hostile glares thrown at him. "What's up?"

"You're not welcome here," said a Slytherin seventh, but Harry ignored him.

"I'm slithering, can't you see that?" Merula muttered into her mash.

"You mean Slytherin?" Harry bandied back.

"Slithering. It's the verb of Slytherin. I'm verbing Slytherin."

"Adverb," Harry corrected, to Merula's groan. "Hey, we're in different houses, that doesn't mean we can't still be friends."

"Yes it does," Merula retorted. "Houses are like family: weren't you listening to McGonagall when she explained them?"

"Uh… sssssure…" Harry lied to her and got a glare for it. "Oh, come on. Families can be friends."

"Harry, Gryffindor are a bunch of goody two shoed idiots and cannon fodder," Merula declared. She was met with approving nods from a few people at her table. "Slytherin? We're here because we know what really matters. Power. Because we know that Magic is Might."

She stabbed her fork into her slice of roast illustratively. "I'm here because I know that. I'm gonna go far. I'm gonna be the most powerful witch in Hogwarts."

Harry looked at his best friend for several seconds. "…Okay. Then will the most powerful witch in Hogwarts please send me back to the Gryffindor table?"

"Go there yourself," Merula told him hotly.

"Nope!" Harry rebutted.

"Go, you can't sit with us," Merula reminded him.

"Hmm… my butt is on the seat… and the seat is at the table… with all of you- Hey! I think that means I'm sitting with you!" he teased.

Merula wrenched her fork from her roast and threatened Harry with it. "I mean it Harry. You're a lion, I'm a snake, you don't get to sit with us."

"That's silly," Harry told her through a grin. "Would the future most powerful witch in Hogwarts really care about Dumbledore's rules?"

"I don't," Merula told him, eyes flashing.

"Then you can make me sit back down at the Gryffindor table?" Harry asked.

"Maybe I can…"

"Hmm…" Harry rubbed his chin. "Can you make the rest of your house let me sit here?"

Someone snorted. "What a dumbass."

Merula's head turned so fast it clicked. "Who said that!" she barked, rubbing her neck.

"I think he did," Harry said, pointing at a random third year. Said third year sent Harry a withering glare, which Merula returned tenfold. Then Merula glared at Harry.

"Go back to your table," Merula said, scooting over to Harry. "You being here is more trouble than it's worth."

"Yeah, but you think I'm worth it," Harry told her.

"No I don't."

"Whatever you say Merula."

Merula, after a moment, shoved her elbow into Harry's stomach and smirked. Down the table, Marcus Flint reluctantly sat down, while the Weasley Twins and the boy they had Shanghai'd into saving Harry returned to the Gryffindor table. The rest of the Slytherins decided that, push coming to shove, they weren't going to tangle with someone who friends on the Gryffindor Quidditch team.

"…Nice place you got here," Ron said.

"FUCK!" Merula barked, before whirling on Ron. "Okay, look, this is not a 'Let's invade the Slytherin table' party. This is me hanging out with my celebrity best friend here."

"Oh, you're hanging out. I'm Harry's bodyguard," Ron told her.

"I'm Harry's bodyguard," Merula snapped back.

"I'm his bodyguard because I have a bunch of brothers who can deduct points from you and anyone else who hurts him, and prank everyone else."

"Ron! Don't use nepotism to make your point!" Percy called across the hall. By now, a large slice of the Hall was listening to this internecine House association/extortion campaign. Several exasperated Ravenclaws were even redrawing their shipping charts.

"I'm his bodyguard because I can kick your ass!" Merula retorted.

"Well, I can kick yours two," Ron said.

"I can kick it harder."

"I can kick it faster."

"I can kick it twice."

"I can kick it three times."

"Well, I said it first, so your ass is the most kicked."

"…Nuts," Ron muttered.

Merula reclined in self-satisfaction, while Harry was trying not to laugh like a madman. Ron, however, sent Harry a warning look. "You really should come back to the Gryffindor table… Slytherins don't like you."

"Nah, I'm fine," Harry told him, shoveling some carrots onto his plate. "It's okay Ron, you can go back to the table, I'll be fine."

Ron shot Merula a warning look. "If you make him a Dark Wizard, I'll jinx you so hard your head will spin."

"I'll put a hit out on your dad and you'll find his head mailed back to you in a box," Merula threatened.

"Why would it be in a box?" Ron asked, sidetracked by the overly elaborate threat.

"What… what else would it be in?"

"A cylinder," Harry suggested as he buttered some toast.

"Or, like… just leave it in bed?" Ron said, not really grasping how dire the threat had been.

Merula stabbed her roast for the third time. "Just go you meddling red haired freckle heap."

"…Never been called a freckle heap," Ron admitted, before sliding away from the pair.

"…" Harry watched him go, before gently elbowing Merula. "I missed you."

"I didn't," she said with a smirk. "I didn't miss my dear Muggle boy who couldn't tell me the name of the Minister of Magic if his life depended upon it. I'm glad I got this new model of friend: celebrities are much more fun."

Harry snorted. "I'd be worried about this weird Harry Potter boy. I've heard he's a bit of a tosser."

"Sure, sure," Merula said, before noticing the evil glare Draco had been sending Harry's way the whole time he had been sitting there. She burst out laughing, and dinner carried on like normal.

After the dinner concluded, and Dumbledore led the entire school in song (wherein Merula refused to sing and shoved a roll down Harry's throat when he tried to), the Prefects began to gather up the students. Harry rose to his feet, sad to go, and turned to Merula. "We should meet up tomorrow. Breakfast?"

"Uh…" Merula chewed her lip, looked around, and nodded. "You got it. Get me your course schedule, let's see what we share."

Harry and Merula stood up, and Merula punched his shoulder softly. "Later Harry."

"Later Merula."

Harry Potter looked inside of the Gryffindor Common Room, filled with high windows overlooking the lake, a warm and roaring hearth, and many squashy armchairs, all bedecked in shining gold and brilliant scarlet. It was breathtaking, in its own way. "So… this is where we'll be staying for the year?" Harry asked Ron.

"Yep," Ron said, scoping out one of the comfortable armchairs. "You and me, my brothers, other Gryffindors. It's a nice place."

"…Think McGonagall will let me invite Merula into our common room?" Harry asked innocently.

Ron snorted. "Nah, that's ridiculous. 'Sides, you don't really think she'd want to actually come up here? I bet she's having the time of her life in Slytherin."

Ron led Harry up a set of spiral stairs to a room marked First Years, where inside Harry found a quintet of four poster beds. Three were occupied by Dean Thomas, Seamus Finnegan, and Neville Longbottom, the last of whom waved to him. "Good to see Harry," he said. "Can't be hanging around Snyde all the time."

"Oh, get off it," Seamus suddenly said. He gave Harry a thumbs up. "Welcome to Gryffindor Potter!"

Harry gave Neville a hard look and decided that he didn't quite like Neville. Ron gave him a little bump and pointed to the bed that had Harry's trunk on it. Harry pulled his trunk down, fell into the comfortable bed, and for the first time ever, Harry felt like he was home.

Merula Snyde looked around the dark common room of the Slytherins. It was roughly hewn from the bedrock below Hogwarts, light by flickering green torches, and filled with chairs, tables, and bookcases. A fire burned sedately in a hearth across the room.

Several pairs of eyes watched Merula, following her around as she moved. She ignored them, and after some trial and error found the girl's dorm.

A quartet of four poster beds were stretched out there. Three were already occupied, and Pansy Parkinson sent Merula a cold and furious look. The girl next to her was a platinum blonde that Merula recognized as Daphne Greengrass. "Blood traitor," she muttered under her breath.

The last girl was sitting quietly, her nose in a book. Her trunk read "Tracy Davis" and she didn't look up from the book as Merula walked by. Instead, Merula stopped at the only unoccupied bed, and looked down at her trunk.

Her trunk had been opened and rifled through. Someone had taken her bottles of ink, opened them up, and poured the contents over her clothing and her textbooks. When she reached into the morass, she felt something sharp prick her finger without breaking the skin, and realized that whomever had done it had smashed the bottles and tossed them in among her clothes.

Merula closed her trunk, checked that her sheets were ink and glass free, and fell into her bed. It wasn't comfortable, it wasn't warm, and for the first time ever, Merula found herself missing home.