Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling and Aslan belongs to C.S. Lewis.

A/N: Sorry this chapter took so I'll long to get out, but unlike the other two, I had to completely rewrite this one . . . bummer.  I'll try to update faster from now on!! Please enjoy!

I wasn't surprised that Katelin and James had been put into Gryffindor, nor that Sharon had been placed in Ravenclaw. Actually, I barely even registered anything that was going on around me during that horrible, horrible feast. And it would have been quite splendid, too, if I hadn't been eating it at the Slytherin table. Instead, every thing that touched my tongue tasted like lead (and believe me, thanks to James, I've tasted real lead before).

The worst part was, I was going to have to share a common room with Malfoy for the next three years, until he graduated. Oh, fabbity fab fab.

I neither noticed nor cared that no one spoke to me—in fact, I didn't bother trying to speak to anybody anyway. I couldn't even bear to look over at the Gryffindor table, because I knew that if I so much as glanced at my family, I would see expressions of severe dislike upon their faces . . . it was like suddenly living in my worst nightmare, as if everything I ever knew to be terrible and unkind was sitting right here next to me. Alright, call me a Drama Queen, but how would it feel if some stupid hat had just told you that you were everything your family had ever been against? I mean for Merlin's sake, Lord Voldemort himself had been in Slytherin House!

The rest of the night was a blur to me and I only recall being led down into the dungeons, a place where it was both very cold and so dark that not even the many lanterns bedecked in the corridor lit it up. The Slytherin Common Room and the third-year girls' dormitory were also very cold and dark. I quite clearly remember thinking, 'I can't imagine having to live in this hell-hole for the next five years. This is probably even scarier than the bat caves in Transylvania."

I woke up the next day as if being woken from a dream—well, technically I was being woken from a dream, but my whole situation definitely seemed much more real to me now that I was out of that numb trance I had been in the night before. It was so much harder to accept now.

I kept the (ugly, in my opinion) bottle green hangings shut, so I could delay the time until I would have to get up and greet this new day that was already promising to be dismal. I wondered what was going to happen when I told Mum that I had gotten into Slytherin? Of course, she'd probably say something like, "Oh Abby, we love you no matter house you're in." But I reckon that she still will be disappointed.

Realising with a jolt that I was probably missing breakfast, I quickly ripped the drapes open and crudely dressed myself in my new Slytherin robes. On the way out of the dormitory, I caught site of my self in the large enchanted mirror by the stone door and jumped for joy at the beautiful colours of silver and green, with the adorable little serpent adorned on them.

Not really, it's just bloody sarcasm.

Down in the Great Hall (and after getting lost numerous times as well) it was almost the end of breakfast by the time I had shuffled in. It was nearly empty at the Slytherin table, but there was a gang of older students near one end of it. I sat down near a surly looking fifth year, but when I distinctly heard her emit a snarl (she did!) I edged slightly away from that area as well.

Looking around the rest of the Great Hall, I noticed that James and Katelin were sitting at the Gryffindor table. James, I could tell, was flirting with some pretty blonde girl and Katelin was jabbering away with her newfound friends. My insides writhed (like a great snake, I thought miserably) with sickening green envy. Why did they get to have everything? I hadn't even done so much as spoken to anyone in the whole time I'd been at Hogwarts.

Deciding right then and there that I was just going to have to avoid the whole world for the rest of my life (or at least till Christmas break, I figured) I snatched up my toast and third year schedule and hurried to my first lesson—Care of Magical Creatures.

Slytherins and Gryffindors had Care of Magical Creatures together, so I could not avoid Katelin and James for long. As soon as they caught site of me standing apart from my fellow house-mates in the grassy knoll where the class was held, they hurried over with grim and sympathetic looks on their faces.

"Oh Abby," Katelin moaned, hugging me tightly (but more likely squeezing me to death). "We can't believe this, the Sorting Hat must've made a mistake—"

"The Sorting Hat can't make mistakes," I interrupted bitterly.

"Well, a Weasley has never been in any house other than Gryffindor before, so it must have been wrong this time!" Katelin argued, stamping her foot on the ground for effect.

I thought it wise not to add that we weren't Weasleys anyway—or at least, I wasn't.

"Besides," Katelin continued, "Professor Uranus—" (the Headmaster—probably the BUTT of many jokes I had thought amusedly last night before the sorting) "—will have to let you switch houses if we tell him why you can't be with Malfoy . . ."

"Shut up," I whispered sharply and shivered involuntarily remembering the incident.

Katelin eyes fell upon the ground and she muttered, "Sorry."

Noticing that James had not yet spoken in the conversation, I glanced over at him to see what was up. He was, in fact, was still standing beside us, although his thoughts didn't seem to be. I followed his gaze, which landed upon the pretty blonde whom he had been flirting with this morning.

"Who's that girl?" I asked innocently, suppressing a grin, which would have been my first one since yesterday afternoon.

James jerked out of his trance and snapped, "No one."

All my morning classes were a bit dull (especially potions, of course, because that Professor Finetra has no clue about the what the hell she's teaching—I don't think she even knows the general properties of wolfsbane, which is first-year material. I've been told that my dad hated potions, or at least was terrible at it . . . there's one thing that's different about me from him) and no one in my house spoke to me. Up until lunch, that is.

"Hey—hey, Weasley!" called a girl presumably in my year from across the table in the middle of lunch. My eyes snapped up from my chips to see who had said my name—the speaker had an unpleasant face, and in great need of some serious dental work. "Is it true that your father was Harry Potter?"

Well, that certainly silenced the whole table. A few people from the Ravenclaw table ceased their talking as well and turned their eyes on me.

I just nodded and returned to my chips.

But the girl continued, "Potter and your mother never did get married did they? So that makes you a love-child, right?" Laughing cruelly as if it were all a funny joke, the homely girl sat back down and resumed her conversation with her friends.

I could sense that familiar prickling of tears behind my eyes, and the sting of them behind my nose. White hot anger was bubbling inside me, and I longed to go right over there and hit her, as hard as I could. But I didn't, for two reasons: one, because she was about three times the size of me, and two, someone had tapped me lightly on the shoulder.

The someone who had tapped me was a fourth-year boy with dark auburn hair. When he spoke, I had expected his voice to be nasty and teasing just like that girl's but, thank Merlin, I was taken by surprise. There was a certain kindness in his voice that I would not have expected out of a Slytherin.

"Look," he said, gazing meaningfully at me. "Don't mind Pricilla Kuch, over there. She's a right little arse if I've ever met one. She really gives Slytherin a bad name . . . her and Malfoy." He added as an afterthought. "And if she gives you any more crap, I know a few useful hexes that I could teach you."

I smiled at him. "Thanks."

"Don't mention it," the boy said, and took a bit of corned beef off his plate to eat. "I'm Travis Welling, by the way."

"Abby Weasley," I said.

Travis swallowed his wad of corned beef and replied, "Yeah, I know. The guys in my year were talking about you this morning at breakfast."

"What did they say?" I asked curiously—I can never resist hearing what people say about me. It's a weird habit I have, but I suppose I also wondered how those fourth-year boys new who I was anyway.

Travis turned red, but remained cool when he spoke. I wish I could do that. "Well . . . they were saying how it was odd that a Weasley had gotten intothis house. . . and, they were also saying that you were the sexiest witch in Slytherin . . ."

Icoughed akwardly. Great, I thought sarcastically. Now I'm going to be teased and seduced.

". . . Not that I was saying it or anything," Travis added hastily and stuffed another corned beef wad into his mouth.

Well, thanks for the compliment, Travis, I thought a bit dejectedly before I caught myself and changed the subject. "Do you know if there're going to be Quidditch try-outs soon?"

Travis's face brightened up at the mention of Quidditch. "Of course! Are you going to try out?"

"I'm thinking about it," I said aloud before I realised the absurdity of it. How could I betray Katelin and James like that and try out for the Slytherin Quidditch team? But then I looked at Travis's kind face and decided that I would. Maybe, just maybe, not everyone in Slytherin was so bad after all . . .

Alright, please R&R and I'll try to get the next chapter out faster!!