Disclaimer: All Harry Potter related material is © JK Rowling. All other material (unless otherwise stated) © me.

Author's Note: If you find any content in this story offensive, please just don't bother to read it. Writing is an outlet for myself. I'm not particularly interested if there's something you don't like about it (unless you can justify with good reason of course). Feedback is most welcome! I'm always looking of ways to improve so criticism is also good.


A/N: This chapter is untitled, as I am still currently working on it! As soon as it is finished, I shall give it a suitable name!


CHAPTER ONE

"That's it. Keep walking," the girl hissed, a satisfactory smirk spreading across her pale, delicate face. "Walk for enough to get back to your own country."

The words didn't react well with the tall, athletic black girl, who was already on her last nerve. It was like watching hot embers dropping into cold water, bubbling and spitting, ready to explode, fighting back with the water that empowered them. Racism. The subject never failed to irritate and anger her. Too much self pride and a patriotic attitude toward her ethnicity had once again tipped her that little too far over the edge. The fuse on her temper had finally run out. Responding in the only way she knew possible (and one which lie the biggest trait of her personality), Aleesha spun around, her arm already pulled back, ready to spring like a bow from an arrow. It shot forward, her fist colliding firmly with the girl's jaw. Bullseye.

The girl plummeted to the ground, falling backwards, a nicely forming red patch (that was guaranteed to bruise purple) clearly visible on her jaw line. Her hair disarrayed, robes arranged awkwardly around her frame. Her blue eyes were open wide, staring in shock, before clear, salty tears began to trickle down her face, leaving paths of defeat.

Aleesha stared down at her, her lips curling in disgust. The girl wasn't even worth hitting, but she'd done it anyway - just to show her who had the right to be in what country. A strange freedom of speech perhaps. Violence was the only way that ever seemed to correct a situation as far as she was concerned. People left you alone in peace once they knew you could harm them.

Spitting on the ground beside the girl, she turned on her heel and strode away, triumphant.


The grey stone wall of the common room entrance slid across, rumbling slightly and announcing the presence of another Slytherin. Ashley Simons looked up, vaguely interested, from her resting position on a black leather sofa. She had been in the middle of an interesting discussion about James Potter, Seeker on the Gryffindor quidditch team, involving the latest tactics of how to foil Gryiffindor's chances of winning an upcoming match. Upon seeing Aleesha, rather more sour-faced and fiery than usual, she abandoned the conversation and turned her attention to her friend.

"Aleesha?"

Aleesha ignored her call and silently strode over to where the group were gathered around a large black wood coffee table laden with a sheet of parchment, a quill and an ink pot - the centre of their previous conversation. She slumped against an armchair where Tiffany Blake sat looking questioningly at her, as did the rest of her friends.

"Aleesha?" Ashley said again, a note of firmness now in her voice.

Aleesha looked up, dark chocolate eyes glittering with mild frenzy, into the brunette's pretty face.

Ashley shook her head slowly, a smile playing on her rosy lips. "Who did you terrorize this time?" She knew her friend too well. Although Aleesha's expression may differ from inner emotions, her eyes never lied. They always had a strange gleam in them after she had fought. Fighting excited her.

"Amy Griffiths." Aleesha shrugged; no big deal.

"What did she do Leesh?" Tiffany asked earnestly, hardly believing her.

Amy Griffiths was quite possibly one of the most quiet and placid students at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Whatever she had done to upset Aleesha must have been something rather drastic. Aleesha didn't usually just strike out unless there was a reason, and a very good reason at that.

At this Aleesha's eyes suddenly lost any trace of their fire and became cold; icy. She was like a switch waiting to be flipped from 'on' to 'off'. Sadly for Tiffany, it seemed she had just flipped it.

"Because she's a Gryffindor. She had what was coming to her."

The four girls who surrounded her exchanged glances. This wasn't a good reason. This wasn't the reason at all. Although each of them knew this, none dared to question her, except Ashley, perhaps, but she decided to leave asking anyway. Once Aleesha was angry, it didn't take much more for her to blow up completely, and they all knew this information. However, there's always someone who ignores the rules and regulations and some who can't understand their friends' feelings. Unfortunately for Tammy, that was her.

"That's not true Aleesha. Don't lie to us. We're not stupid."

The words were barely out of her mouth before Aleesha advanced on her, fixing her with the most intent stare Tammy had ever seen. Aleesha's eyes bore into her own, seeming to drill straight into the back of her skull.

"I think I'd shut my mouth if I were you," Aleesha spat menacingly.

Crumbling beneath her, Tammy's eyes began to well up with tears, dangerously threatening to fall on to her expensive robes.

"I-I'm sorry," she stuttered, panicked, realising her own foolishness.

Aleesha opened her mouth to reply, but Ashley interrupted.

"Leave it Aleesha," she said quietly, but with a definite tone of finality.

Aleesha sniffed and threw Tammy a look of disgust. In one way, Tammy hadn't really done much wrong, but she frustrated Aleesha as it was - talking too much, acting immature and flaunting her crazed opinions. The only reason Ashley let her hang around with them was that Tammy's father, a successful muggle businessman, had more money than the rest of the group put together and that equalled freebies for them. Truth be told though, Aleesha didn't think there was one person in the group who actually liked her.


By dinner time that night, Aleesha had calmed down considerably. She was once again stern, uncaring and throwing glares of no true meaning that made first years quake (and many older students in fact). This, naturally, had put her into a good mood itself, and the sight of not seeing Amy Griffiths at the Gryffindor table made her rather pleased. Tammy on the other hand, still clearly shaken, was trying a little too desperately to get back into Aleesha's good books. Aleesha found that as long as she could block out the sound of her irritating voice and nod every so often, Tammy seemed to think she was doing a good job of crawling up her behind.

Ashley was currently poured over her quidditch plot with another of their friends, Tara-Lianne Costello. Tara-Lianne was almost like Ashley's assistant - quick to do what she asked and please her, yet without the air of "brown-nosing", which seemed to be Tammy's current trait. The half Italian witch possessed her friend's love of quidditch, which was probably the starting point of their friendship three years ago. Now, in their fourth year, they had become almost inseparable, along with the rest of the group.

"Look, if you put Knott on the left side, then Evans is obviously going to intercept the quaffle!"

"Maybe…"

"Tara, there's no 'maybe' about it! It's obvious."

"No, look. If we cover Knott with Flint then-"

Tara-Lianne's sentence could not be finished as an extremely loud bang, which seemed to sound and the ricochet off the walls and ceiling, thundered throughout the Great Hall, rumbling and booming as it did so. Snapping her head to where the problem seemed to emit, Tammy sat covered in a thick, green slime which oozed from an open package in her hands, obviously the source of the commotion. Whining piteously at the prospect of being the butt of yet another mishap, she stared helplessly about her, blonde hair and specially tailored uniform now ruined. Tiffany, who sat beside her, grasped her hand and made to pull her up out of her seat.

"No Tiff," Tammy protested, trying to yank her hand free and use it to bury her face. The students gathered in the hall had now erupted with laughter, pointing and jeering at her embarrassed form.

Tiffany, still holding a firm grasp on her friend, gritted her teeth and spoke savagely through them.

"Tammy, don't be an idiot. Get up, and sort yourself out."

Whining all-the-more, Tiffany gave one huge tug and lifted Tammy out of her seat and began to lead her out of the Great Hall, passing the other house tables, who had once again appeared to have ganged up on the Slytherins. Slytherin had always seemed to be the "outcasts" of the school - conniving, cunning and down right evil. Contrary to popular belief, they were simply misunderstood. However, nothing swayed the minds of the other three houses, who liked nothing more than to see the strongest house of all crumble every so often. A rarity that pleased them very much in fact.