The plot thickens, and still no new reviews! Pleasepleasepleasepleasepleaseplease review!

Oh, and by the way, I do not own Harry Potter. JK Rowling does.

The next three days passed in a blur. Kestrel managed to turn her match into a needle on her third try, much to the chagrin of Malfoy, who's match stayed stubbornly a match throughout the class period. Astronomy took place on Thursday night for the Slytherins, which is why on Friday morning Blaise and Kestrel, accompanied by Sophie, had a late breakfast before heading down to the dungeons for their first-ever potions class.

"Good thing classes start later today. I don't think I could have gotten up in time otherwise. How about you Kestrel?" commented Sophie cheerfully.

"I had trouble getting up as it is." muttered Kestrel dryly, stretching. "We birds of prey are not known for being morning people."

"You know, I've been meaning to ask you about that." said Blaise

"What, morning people?" asked Kestrel, a feeling of dread clawing its way into her stomach.

"No, your name. I mean, no offense, it's a beautiful name, but it's unusual, isn't it? How'd you get it?" Blaise rephrased.

Kestrel mental cursed herself. She should have known choosing such an odd name would have consequences. What was he supposed to tell them, that she was from an alternate universe? That she named herself after her animal totem that her mom had mad her get when she was ten?

Then her mind clicked into action. She couldn't name herself, but her mother could.

Sending a silent prayer to whatever deity had come up with imagination. Kestrel came up with her story. "Well, Kestrel wasn't my original name, it was Emma." she said, intermingling the truth with falsehood, in order to make her story more believable. "My mom decided that I should rediscover my Native American roots by finding an 'animal totem', so we went on the Internet and read about all these different animals, and it turned out to be a Kestrel. Eventually, she convinced my father to have my name changed as an eleventh birthday present." She held her breath hoping her story would pass.

"What's the Internet?" inquired Sophie interestedly. Kestrel nearly slapped herself on the forehead. How could she had been so stupid? The internet hasn't been completely developed yet!

"It's a bunch of computers linked together that they have in the library." said Kestrel evasively. It was sort of the truth...

"Oh, Okay then." replied Sophie, rather disappointedly. Obviously she had been expecting something a bit more miraculous. "I think this is it."

The took in the scene before them. A door on the right-hand side was surrounded by nervous looking Slytherin and Gryffindor first years. Kestrel shivered slightly, noting the air was at least ten degrees colder here than in the great hall. It was also (if the water dripping down the walls was any indication) a lot more humid.

"Well this looks ominous." commented Hermione as she walked over to join the group.

"You're telling me. I bet he charms it that way." replied Sophie, eyeing some cobwebs in the corner apprehensively.

Kestrel opened her mouth to reply, but at that moment the door to the potions room creaked open, and the class entered.

"Divide up into pairs. We'll be working in twos today." Professor Snape, robe billowing out behind him silence fell as the class. Kestrel turned around t find that Blaise and Sophie had already pair up. Sighing, she noticed that Hermione was taken to. In fact, everyone had a partner, except ...

"Oh boy." Kestrel groaned looking at the only solitary figure in the room. Neville Longbottom. And a Gryffindor. Shit.

Resigning herself to the fact that there was no one else to pair up with she made her way over to where Neville was staring dejectedly around the dungeon.

"Well it looks like it's just you and me." she said with forced cheerfulness.

Neville looked shocked for a moment, and then he numbly scooted over to make room for Kestrel. She took her seat and set up her caldron as Professor Snape swept around the room, looking for mistakes.

"In this class room you will learn the subtle art and exact science of..." Snape began. Wordlessly, Kestrel pulled a spiral notebook, quill, and ink out of her flamboyantly rainbow colored bag, prepared to take notes, when the need be.

After the speech came roll call, Gryffindors followed by Slytherins, Snape making comments all the way. It was amazing, really, how sarcastic the guy could be. And brutally honest.

"Cascara, Kestrel." he said, eyes sweeping over to were she sat next to Neville. "Another little history maker." Kestrel blinked. "Here." she said, trying to show indifference. Snape moved on to the next name.

Suddenly, Snape looked over at Harry. "Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me bezoars?"

Harry blinked. "I don't know sir."

"Tut, tut. Clearly fame isn't everything. What is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?" Snape replied icily.

Kestrel looked sideways, and noticed Hermione holding her hand up as far as it would go. Again, Harry's answer was. "I don't know."

"Thought you wouldn't open a book before coming here, eh Potter?" Harry looked absolutely furious. "Let's see if you can answer this one. What would you get if you added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

"I don't know, sir." Harry replied. "But I think Hermione does. Why don't you ask her?"

Snape's face contorted into a rather scary smirk. "Sit down!" he snapped at Hermione, who by this point had taken to standing up with her hand stretching towards the ceiling. "A point will taken from Gryffindor for you insolence, Potter."

Harry opened his mouth to argue, but Ron kicked him under the table and muttered something into his ear. "Let's see if our other icon can answer the questions any better. Cascara, where would you look if I told you to find me some bezoars?"

Kestrel took a deep breath as she remembered the correct answer from the Sorcerer's Stone. Thank the Gods she was able to smuggle the first Harry Potter book under her bed at the Moccasin's!

"The stomach of a goat." she supplied readily. Snape raised an eyebrow. "Correct. What is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

"They're the same plant, sir. Also know as," she paused, searching her memory for the correct word. "An aphrodite, or aconite. I can't remember which it is."

"Aconite, Miss Cascara. Aphrodite is the Greek goddess of beauty." Snape supplemented, sneering slightly.

"Oh." Kestrel replied, feeling rather foolish. "Right."

"Let's see if you can't get the complete right answer on this one, Miss Cascara. What would you get if you added powdered asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

"A powerful and often irreversible sleeping potion known as the draft of the living death." Kestrel answered, confident that she had got this question at least right.

"Correct, Miss Cascara." Snape responded curtly. "Now, today we will be working on a simple potion to cure boils. The directions are on the board. Begin."

Potions, after Snape had settled down at his desk to write, was actually quiet enjoyable, and interesting. Kestrel got some sort of satisfaction when the potion turn the correct color when the correct ingredient was added. It would have been downright fun if Neville hadn't flinched every time she looked in his direction. Her patience was beginning to wear thin on that respect.

"Look, Neville, the chances of me cursing you the near future are rather slim, so why don't you just try to relax, and enjoy the potions lesson." she said exasperatedly

"Enjoy the potions lesson?!?" echoed Neville incredulously. "Are you insane?!?"

"Well, it depends on who you talk to." admitted Kestrel. "I was known to be a bit unstable at SMS."

"SMS?" inquired Neville "What's that?"

"My old school's nickname. It stands for Saint Maria's School. It's a nice private school back on LI."

"LI! Do you Americans always speak in initials?" Neville replied curiously.

"LI stands for Long Island. And yes, we do tend to use initials a lot. It speeds up conversation. Now take the caldron off the fire so I can add the quills."

Neville looked rather confused. "Why does the caldron need to be of the flames?"

"Because if the quills come within two inches of combustion your caldron will melt, flood the dungeon, and you'll end up in the Hospital Wing with some nasty welts."

"Oh." Neville responded, quickly removing the caldron from small inferno below. "Yeah, removing the caldron is a good idea. Check."

"Sorry we left you with Longbottom, Kestrel." Sophie and Blaise apologized as one as Kestrel stepped out from Potions Classroom.

"It's alright. Neville was rather nice, really. He just needs a little help with the non-plant components of potions." Kestrel replied.

Sophie blinked. "You're admitting, in front of witnesses, that you think a Gryffindor is nice."

"Yeah. I mean, how are we supposed to overcome the whole Slytherins are evil bit if we can't get over the whole Gryffindork thing." countered Kestrel

Blaise nodded in consent, and Sophie made a non-committal noise in the back of her throat. "So, what do you reckon they're serving for lunch?" she asked, changing the subject.

"Something quick, I hope." Blaise replied "We've got to go to the library."

"Why? You have all weekend." Sophie questioned. Blaise and Kestrel both raised their eyebrows. "Oh that's right. Wizard's duel tonight. I'll root for you, but I don't envy you. Malfoy's going to cream you."

"Thanks for your support." muttered Kestrel darkly as they sat at their usual spots at the Slytherin table.

The rest of the day went at an unbelievably fast pace, so that it seemed that one moment she was checking out books from the library, and the next sitting in her last class, Herbology, and then finding herself in the common room with Blaise, looking up hexes to used against Malfoy, and nervously fingering her wand.

"What are the chances of us learning this stuff in three hours?" exclaimed Blaise.

"You probably won't need to know it in three hours. You're my second, remember?" replied Kestrel, looking up the banishing charm in The Standard Book of Spells, Grade Four.

"Thank god for small favors." muttered Blaise.

Somewhere, outside the Slytherin Common room, Hagrid was drinking his third bottle of firewhiskey, Snape was grading papers, and Filch patrolled the Astronomy Tower. Suddenly, the clock rang out and twelve gongs pierced the air. Several curious Slytherins filed silently down into the common room, forming an eerie circle around the room. Two figures pushed their way through the circle, wearing looks of complete confidence. Another pair slowly rose from their places by the fire, wands outstretched. As both duos approached the center of the circle, one from each twosome stopped short while their companions continued. A light suddenly flashed, and it became apparent who these two people were.

One was female, her long chestnut hair tucked behind her prominent, pointy ears, making them even more obvious. Her extended wand was covered in swirls of black and white, and her eyes shone with multicolored flecks of color.

The other was a boy, eleven years of age, with short platinum blonde hair that nevertheless hid his ear tips from sight, gray eyes, and a thin mouth curled into a very unpleasant sneer. His wand was a dull birch color.

Upon arriving at the center of the group of on lookers, both summed each other up, gave a short, jerky sort of half bow, and raised their wands.

The wizards duel had begun.

Kestrel and Malfoy circled each other, neither wanting to make the first move. Malfoy, hoping to provoke her, began throwing insults at her.

"Bitch, arsehole, Mudblood."

"Did you know that Mudblood has been used for over a millennium now?" commented Kestrel airily.

"And your point is?" shot back Malfoy, half curious, half aggressive.

"You've been using the same petty insult for a thousand years now, and seem incapable of coming up with another one. What a lack of imagination." Kestrel retorted.

Malfoy lunged, with a cry of "Impedimenta!" Kestrel ducked as the spell whooshed over her.

"Depulso!" she yelled, moving quickly behind the relative cover of a nearby armchair as a suspiciously green spell missed her by inches a hit a table behind her, reducing it to ashes.

"Locomotormortis!" bellowed Kestrel. "Protego!" countered Malfoy.

And so it continued for nearly an hour. Kestrel had cast and Imperturbable charm on her chair to keep some of Malfoy's minor jinxes from damaging it, but Malfoy wasn't sticking to just minor curses.

"Crucio!" he yelled, and the chair was blasted to smithereens.

Ducking behind the side of the fireplace, Kestrel quickly levitated a table into the path of a jet of purple fire that was spiraling towards her. Perhaps getting an idea from that trick, he sent and armoire flying in her direction. With a quick cry of "Evanesco!" however, it was dispersed into thin air.

While Malfoy's curse rained around her, Kestrel aimed her wand at the floor. "Spongify!"

Jumping hard on the cushion of pale lilac light, Kestrel flew towards a very startled Malfoy with a cry of "Mimblewimble!"

"Avardie Kadarve!" he screeched in desperation, but Kestrel's counter curse didn't allowed him to successfully complete the spell. Good thing to.

"Flipendo!" yelled Malfoy, sending Kestrel painfully into a table leg. Her wand clattered to the floor not two inches away from her.

"You can't beat a Malfoy, Mudblood!" he gloated, but his victory was short lived.

"Acus!" gasped Kestrel and immediately Malfoy's body became ridged and silver.

Needless to say, chaos ensued.

"She's killed Malfoy!" screamed Parkinson as Kestrel got unsteadily to her feet, helped by Blaise.

"This doesn't look good." muttered Kestrel, as several upperclassmen Slytherins raised there wands.

"I say we should kill her!" yelled a burly fourth year, who Kestrel thought might play on the Slytherin Quidditch team.

"Let's get her and her second!" shrieked a tall seventh year girl.

"Oh really." challenged a sixth year, stepping to where Blaise, Kestrel, and by this time, Sophie, were standing with very grim expressions on their faces. "And how many Unforgivables did Malfoy throw at her? Aren't those punishable by a life sentence in Azkaban? I think he should be the short twig."

The sixth year's proclamation cause a massive amount of muttering to sweep the crowd, and some of the boulder Slytherins came to throw in their lots with the herd of black sheep, including three seventh years, and Morag McDougal, a burly, muscular boy in Kestrels year, and a pureblood.

Tension in the room rose, and Kestrel noticed a small group of maybe ten Slytherins edge into the door to the boys dormitory. Deciding to worry about the students that were pointing wands at her, Kestrel turned her mind back to the conversation at hand.

"Blood traitor." spat Bullstrode, venom nearly dripping from her voice.

Morag, who was the clear attraction of her unwanted attention, simply shrugged. "There are some people who don't like being carbon copies of their parents."

The mutterings increased, and a few more people swelled the ranks of the herd. Now nearly twenty people stood by Kestrel- but the were still facing nearly thirty opponents.

And uncomfortable silence made the apprehension in the room become even more pronounced as both parties eyed each other, fingering their wands nervously.

"Teachers!" shouted someone from the entrance way to common room. "Filch, and Professors Snape, McGonagall, Flitwick, and Dumbledore. And they're headed this way!"

There was a stunned silence, in which no body moved. Hastily, Kestrel cast a silencing charm around the common room, and stuck her wand to her throat. "Sonorus!"

"Don't just stand there, get back to your dormitories!" she yelled. Nearly everybody on both sides complied, and there was a mad scramble to the dormitories. But there was still evidence that had to be disposed of.

"Evanesco!" to the pile of ashes that was once a table, "Reparo!" to the damaged furniture, and "Finte Incantatem!" to the large needle that was Malfoy (the Spongify pad long having dissipated), as well as a cry of "Abigere!" to both Malfoy's stunned, but still alive body, and the numerous books that Blaise and Kestrel had been looking up spells in. The boy flew into the boy's dormitory, the tomes, to the girl's.

"Come on!" Kestrel hissed, pulling on a rather shocked Blaise so that they were twirled into the entrance to the girls dormitory just ahead of Sophie.

They ran up the stairs to the first door to the right and shut it tight, before bounding into their bed, still fully clothed, and breathing heavily. They lay there in silence for several minutes.

"I have got to tell my mom about this!" exclaimed Blaise finally, laughing aloud. "She will never believe how much stuff has happened, and we haven't even been in school for a week now! She's always telling me about the time she rescued a hippogriff in the forest during her fifth year, and I've been trying to beat that for years!"

Kestrel couldn't help it. She laughed too.

As interesting as Friday was, Saturday was even more so. But in a completely different way.

At around ten in the morning Hagrid came blustering through the Great Hall and made his way to the end of the Slytherin table where Kestrel and the 'anti-purebloods' were sitting, enjoying a late breakfast.

"What the bloody hell do ya think yer doin', Kestrel?" he roared, making the saucers rattle. "Getting' yerself in Slytherin? What were ya thinkin'?"

"Hagrid, what's the big deal. I'm a Slytherin, so what. I'm not the next dark lord or anything." Kestrel tried to soothe, but to no avail.

"Fer all we know, ya could be! The Slytherins are all evil gits, ya should know that!" he exclaimed.

Kestrel shook her head exasperatedly, and turned to Blaise, who seated on her right.

"Blaise, does this conversation sound familiar?" she asked, a smile not unlike the ones the Weasley twins were known to wear whenever the were about to play a particularly nasty prank on someone singing across her face.

"You know that you mention it, this does sound rather like the one we had on Monday with Padma." she replied, not really knowing what was going on, but playing along anyway.

"And does it seem to you that we'll probably be having this conversation for the rest of our lives?" Kestrel questioned

"Yeah, actually. My mom's still having it." Blaise frowned trying to understand what her friend was getting at.

"Well, you know what. I think I'll just get the conversations out of the way. I've have plans for the rest of my life. And they don't include explaining the reason for my house placement over and over again." Kestrel proclaimed, and with that she stood resolutely on her seat and jabbed her wand at her throat.

"Sonorus!" she whispered, and felt the familiar stretching sensation in her throat. "Excuse me!" she yelled, and her voice boomed throughout the hall, cause an intense silence to rule as every single person in the hall jumped and turned to stare at her.

"Hi, my name is Kestrel Cascara, and I'm in Slytherin, and as such, several people seem to be under the impression that I'm a malevolent pureblood fascist. I'm not evil, and I'm Muggleborn. Not all Slytherins are Death Eaters; after all, Mad-Eye Moody was a Slytherin, and Grindelwald was a Gryffindor, so I just thought I'd bring that up. Don't judge a book by it's cover."

Several of the people sitting near her began to voice their opinions also. "I'm not evil either." "Evil people sit on that side of the table." "Don't pick on us just because we have to terrible luck to land in the same house as He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named." Kestrel cleared her throat, and the jabbering stopped. "Although I can't speak for the other grades, in my year the only people you really have to watch out for are Blondie, the gorilla goons, and the rest of Mouthful's posse. Now if you excuse me, I think I'm embarrassing Hagrid." and with a barely audible croak of "Quietus." Kestrel took her seat.

"Pass the ham." she said calmly to Sophie, who was looking rather shocked, but happy.

As soon as Kestrel sat down, conversation levels increased dramatically, especially at the Gryffindor table. Then again, they were never known for being quiet anyway.

"Did you see McGonagall? She must have jumped three inches." chortled Lee

"Honestly, that was probably the most entertaining thing to happen all week." exclaimed Ron around a mouthful of bacon.

"Dumbledore seems to agree with you." commented Hermione, who was watching the staff table shrewdly.

"Almost everybody agrees with you." rephrased Harry. "I just hope Kestrel doesn't get in a bad way with Malfoy and company."

"To late for that. She's already been ambushed, and the way I understand it, had a wizards duel with them last night." Hermione stated.

"What?!?" chorused the twins in disbelief.

"She's still alive after being ambushed by Blondie?" inquired Fred, snorting slightly at the unflattering epithet.

"She voluntarily fought in a wizards duel with Mouthful?" George quipped, also using Kestrel's nickname. "Did she win?"

"I don't know. I haven't gotten a chance to talk to her since yesterday afternoon." Hermione admitted.

"Well, we'll just have to fix that, won't we." said Fried, clapping his hands together. As one, both twins rose and made their way to the Slytherin table.

"Mad-Eye was a Slytherin; Grindelwald was a Gryffindor." Hagrid muttered under his breath for the umpteenth time. He was sitting on a bench at the end of the Slytherin table, still in shock.

"Yes Hagrid." said Kestrel patiently. "And not all Slytherins are evil."

"I've got ter sit down." Hagrid muttered, standing up.

"Er, Hagrid? You just were sitting down." Blaise pointed out.

"Yeah, but, I got ter sit down somewhere wih' alcohol." Hagrid mumbled, heading for the staff table.

"There's alcohol at the staff table?" asked Sophie, surprised.

"Of course." answered a voice from behind them. "How do you think Dumbledore stays so chipper?"

The Weasley twins were standing, looking part anxious, part happy, part mischievous, and part amused.

"Hi Fred, hi George." said Kestrel. "Have a seat."

Both twins looked at each other, before shrugging and sitting down, much aware of the interest of the students.

"So, we understand that you had a bit of a spat with Future Death Eater Extraordinaire." said George.

"Please, tell us you kicked his ass." pleaded Fred.

"It all depends on your definition." started Blaise excitedly. "If getting your ass kicked means being turned into a needle, than yes, Malfoy got his ass kicked."

"You turned Malfoy into a needle?" George asked.

"Yep, although he wasn't a much better needle than he is a person." Kestrel declared.

"Okay, give us all the details." implored Fred, helping himself to a bit of bacon.

"I smell major blackmailing material here." smirked George, rubbing his hands together in voracity.

"Blaise, do you mind telling them. If I don't get something to eat in the next five minutes, I'll faint." Kestrel said, gesturing to her uneaten plate of ham, English muffins, pancakes, donuts, and bagels.

"Sure, I'll tell them" replied Blaise eagerly, grinning madly. "Any way, it was a proper midnight duel, and ..."

Kestrel smiled into her muffin, before busying herself with more pressing matters. Such as breakfast.

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