((Disclaimer: J. K. Rowling is the creator and owner of all things Harry Potter. This story is simply for my own amusement and I am making no profit.))

Its alright. It will all be alright. What are am I so afraid of anyway? This is a dream come true! I can wear what I want, be friends with who I want and best of all I're allowed to practice and learn magic! I'm not a freak anymore! This was worth alienating mymother for! AND I promised myfather I'd give it an honest try! Ok deep breaths. How bad can they be? Olivia grimaced as she mentally answered her own question. She knew exactly how bad kids could be, having attended a muggle school. No matter how hard she had tried to fit in, the other kids had almost sensed that their was something well, weird about her. But these kids are just like me! No more hiding!

But it seemed no matter how hard she tried to remind herself that this is what she wanted more than anything, or how hard she had worked to get here, to escape from her mothers oppresive, muggle-ridden house, to her fathers eccletic flat in London and then on to Hogwarts, she couldnt shake the feeling of dread she felt as she approached her first classroom.

Transfiguration, Professor Mcgonagle, with the fifth year Gryffindors and the Slytherins. She wasn't worried so much about the level of difficulty of the teacher. She had met the Professor the day before, and although she had a very severe appearance, she had been very kind and had graded Olivia's abilities much higher than she had dared to hope. But she had asked not to be in the sixth year classes, but with students closer to her own age. The students were the problem. Professor Dumbledore had decided that because she had lived in the muggle world for so long that they would wait till the beginning of the next term to place her in a house. She had been promised private rooms, but at her crestfallen expression, Dumbledore had suggested that she give each house a trial version. It was a rare oppurtunity she knew but it didn't make facing her first day any less scary. She didn't have a house, a head of house, or any friends.

How are you supposed to find anything in this bloody castle anyway? She thought. She had been wandering for ages and still didn't seem to be any closer to her class, judging by the door numbers. She turned the corner and saw a large group of students her age standing outside a classroom door. They were dressed in red and green which meant....Gryffindor and...Slytherin. This didn't mean anything to her yet. Just that they fit and she didn't. Oh well at least now I can get directions. She thought approaching a dark haired boy with round glasses who was talking to a red haired boy and a girl with frizzy hair and a huge stack of books in her arms.

" Oh honestly Ron. I told you you to do your homework during the holidays, but no, much better to play muggle-rugby with a ball that randomly explodes! Why do homework when you can sever limbs?! So, no you can't copy mine. And dont think the puppy eyes will work either" The girl was saying as she approached.

See? Just like normal school. Well, except for the exploding rugby ball part...."Excuse me? Sorry I didn't mean to interrupt I was just wondering if you could help me find the fifth year transfiguration class." She was sure they stared at her for a full minute before the girl finally found her voice, although the boys just gaped. Apparently they didn't get many new students.

"Of course. This is it"

"Oh but, my scheduel says its in room 76 and i just passed room 345....."

"One of Hogwarts many quirks, I'm afraid. I'm Hermione by the way and this is Ron" she said indicating the red haired boy "and Harry."

"Nice to meet you. I'm Olivia" An awkward silence fell before she realized that they were waiting for her to elaborate. " Uh, I'm new. Just moved from Canada."

"Oh I wondered about the accent. So what brings you here?" The girl asked, since the boys hadn't found their voices apparently. By this time a largeish group had assembeled around them, listening intently so she chose an abbreviated, upbeat version of her life story.

"I lived with my mum there, but I really wanted to play quidditch so I convinced her to send me to live with my dad in London where there was more oppurtunity to play proffesionally" That certainly got the boys' attention, the red haired one especially.

"Really? What position?"

"Beater. My therapist says its good anger management therapy." There was an umcomfortable silence since nobody was sure what to say and were afraid to set her off." That was a joke. Actually I'm a seeker."

"No kidding. What's your broom?" The dark-haired boy asked

"Nimbus 2000. You?"

"Firebolt"

"Bullshit!" she said clearly impressed "Oh man, you're parents must be loaded!" She realized she had said something wrong because nobody would meet her eyes and a couple coughed umcomfortably. Before she could figure out how to undo whatever it was she had done, a drawling voice came from over Harry's shoulder.

"Trying to scoff answers again Weasley? What's the matter? can't afford a clue?" The boy belonging to the voice said. Hello, brain? Earth to brain! This is not the time to swoon over a cute guy! Even one with tousled hair almost white its so blonde, and eyes like the sea after a storm...Nor is this the time to be imaging whats under those school robes! It doesnt matter that he's obviously loaded...And dont be stupid! Of course he didn'tkill some large dangerous reptile for that necklace...Not that anything would stand a chance agaisnt him anyway. Not with those muscles. And you can just see that dangerous look in those dark, brooding eyes... But Olivia's inner battle was of no avail. Brain and conscience lost to a pretty face, with ice blue eyes and white blonde hair. The fact that the rest of him was as easy on the eyes as his face didn'thelp. Especially when he noticed she wasnt looking anywhere near those "dark brooding eyes". And when he smirked at her there was nothing to do but smirk back. What else could she do? Giggling and blushing was out, since she obviously didn'tneed to be feeding his ego, but she didn'twant him to think she didn'tlike him either. Just not that she didn'tnot like him....Argh...

"Sod off, Malfoy" Harry said, jerking her back to reality. The blonde boy - Malfoy? - had insulted Ron and from Harry's tone she gathered it wasn't good-natured humor.

"Or what, Potter?" Malfoy spat. Olivia was momentarily confused. Potter. Why did that seem important somehow? So Harry's last name was....Oh shit. Shit shit shit. Bloody buggering hell. she thought. Harry Potter. Thats what you said wrong, genius. She looked and confirmed her fears. Sure enough there was the most famous scar in the whole wizarding world. Damnit.

Transfiguration, Professor Mcgonagle, fifth year Gryffindors and the Slytherins. Malfoy sighed. An hour a day with those common, self-righteous, brownosing little pricks and their leader, sent to earth in all her pompous, uptight glory for the sole purpous of making his life as unpleasant as possible. If it were up to him she would be out on her ass before she could day " 20 points from Slytherin for attitude". But it wasnt. It was up to that muggle lover. A muggle lover who took a personal interest in what he called Malfoy's "situation at home" which must be very "stressful". He would never understand why teachers couldnt just say what they meant. Like "Your father hates you because you have to much dignity to grovel to an insane half-blood, but he can't disown you, because your the sole heir, so he's been trying to brainwash you since you were 12. That must make your time at home a living hell, huh? But no, he had to "help" Malfoy with his "issues". As if he had any issues beyond a psychotic father! He was a Malfoy for fuck's sake! And now he had set the Mcgonagle woman on his back too. He hated her sympathetic looks and her "tough love". What a way to start the morning.

But his mood improved as he turned the corner. "So, no you can't copy mine. And dont think the puppy eyes will work either" This was too good an oppurtunity to pass up. Weasley whinging to that mudblood girlfriend of his. The only thing he enjoyed more than seeing how many shades of fushcia he could make him turn, before getting caught was...Not getting caught.

As he sauntered up behind the red head he happened to hear "Really? What position?" and winced, his filthy mind going into overdrive. Why must they discuss such things? The idea of Weasley and Granger...He shuddered. Nope. Not going there. The traumatic point of no return. Besides, he had more important things on his mind...

"Trying to scoff answers again Weasley? What's the matter? can't afford a clue?" He said and was initially pleased with the quick reaction he got. Weasley's face was scarlet, and he seemed to be having some difficulty talking. No better way to start a morning. Unless it's setting fire to the dead cat that mud-blood has the nerve to call hair. he thought as Hermione stepped in front of Ron to restrain him, shooting Draco a hate-filled look. But he soon forgot about his momentary victory when he saw who Weasley had been talking to. It took him at least a full minute to remember to breathe.

He knew she was new, he would have remembered her. With her waist length hair, just a couple of shades darker than his, vivid blue eyes, cute, innocent face and wicked smile. She was certainly the only girl at Hogwarts who could rival him in looks. And not just in looks either, judging by that smile. She was wearing a school uniform. Sort of. She had a black pleated skirt and black robes, but had paired them with a green lace top and green calf length boots. He would have geussed she was a Slytherin but she didn'thave a house crest and she was talking to Weasley, of all people. Like she wasnt a million light years out of Weasleys league. Those clothes must have cost more than his family made in a month, and then there was the figure they showed to great advantage. He realized he was gawking stupidly, so he snapped his eyes up to hers. But she wasnt looking at his eyes. Amused, he gave her his very best cocky smirk and was pleasantly surprised when she returned it.

"Sod off Malfoy"Shit. He'd completely forgotten about the boy-who-wouldnt-die and his sidekicks.

"Or what, Potter?" He said dragging his attention back to tormenting the little Gryffindor snots. Hmm..thats interesting. He thought when he saw her look at him, puzzled, then turn pale and look sharply at Potter. She didn'tknow... Why did that make him so mad? What did he care if the little snot was going to try to kill himself being heroic and then be "modest" about it? At least he wasnt trying to impress the new girl with...That sanctimonious little goody-goody! How dare he try to make a move on her by pretending to be all modest?! How dare he make a move on her at all?!?! He turned to Potter with a vicious snarl that had him backing up a step. Luckily for all concerned Proffesor Mcgonagle chose that moment to show up.

"Is there a problem, Mr. Malfoy?" She said.

"Not at all, Professor. I'm just a concerned student. I dont think its fair to the rest of us if Weasley gets good grades without doing any work simply because he's sleeping with Granger, do you?" He replied, giving the ginger twit a smug grin. It quickly turned into a real grin as he noticed that Granger's face was almost the same colour her boyfriend's had been a minute earlier.

"Proffesor we're not....He wasn't...I-I...."

"Not at all, Professor. I'm just a concerned student. I dont think its fair to the rest of us if Weasley gets good grades without doing any work simply because he's sleeping with Granger, do you?" Although she had no idea if Ron and Hermione were in fact sleeping together and she thought that Malfoy had been a bit to smug about it, she had to respect that level of evil. It was something she herself might have done at her old school, only not to anyone as nice as Ron, Harry and Hermione seemed to be.

Proffesor we're not....He wasn't...I-I...." Was all Hermione managed before Harry took over.

"Proffesor, Ron was just asking Hermione for help with a difficult essay. Because thats what friends do." She guessed that Harry's intervention had saved his friends from detention, but it wouldnt do anything against the gossip from the other students crowding around.

Proffesor Mcgonagle looked skeptical but said "Very well" and opened the door to the classroom. The students flooded in and took their seats, leaving Olivia standing at the door. They all seemed to have their own designated spots and she wasnt sure where she fit. Under normal circumstances she would have sat with other students from her house but she didn'teven have that option. So she stood at the door feeling incresingly uncomfortable until Proffesor Mcgonagle noticed her.

"If I could have your attention please. Id like to introduce you all to our new student Olivia Fayette. She has just transferred from Canada. Can I get a volunteer to help Ms. Fayette with todays class and finding her way around the school for the next couple of days." As expected Hermione's hand shot up right away, but strangely Malfoy's did as well...