The Sweetest Slytherin Ever

After his first class, Harry headed down to the Great Hall for some lunch. He sat down next to Ron.

"You know, I wonder what's got into Draco Malfoy?" said Ron.

"Yes, I noticed too," agreed Hermione. Harry looked behind him; Draco looked perfectly normal to him. He turned to face them again.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"You haven't noticed?" Hermione seemed rather shocked. "I thought you, of all people, would have been the first to notice."

"Well, seeing that I have been in the Hospital Wing with pain and classes, that doesn't leave much time for noticing power-hungry Slytherins," retorted Harry aggressively.

"Well, Malfoy seems more or less..." she tried to find the perfect word.

"Miserable," finished Ron.

"He looks like his usual self to me," said Harry.

"Well, you obviously weren't watching him in the first week of school. It all started when he received that letter," said Hermione.

"What letter?" asked Harry.

"Shouldn't he be happy, though? I mean, V-Voldemort has risen?" whispered Ron.

"That's what I was thinking, but obviously not," she answered.

"Perhaps he only thought he wanted Voldemort to come back," suggested Ron. They both shrugged their shoulders.

"What letter?" Harry asked louder.

"Malfoy received a letter last Monday, and whatever it was about, it made him real mad," answered Hermione. "We better be off to our classes." They finished their lunch of tasty sandwiches and headed out of the Hall. The rest of that day he sneaked peeks at Malfoy looking for signs of lost confidence and such. But he, and the rest of the Slytherins seemed as prideful and confident as ever.

Speaking of Slytherins, he had completely forgotten about the subject of Sarah Evans, which was brought up again while he was in the library before Potions. He was looking for a book, Disguised As a Disguise when Sarah should walk in. She began to scan the bookshelves, ignoring the eyes that were scanning her. Harry happened to be sitting right beside the bookshelf she was searching. After a few minutes, she let out a sigh.

"Excuse me," she said in a very polite voice to Harry, "could you help me find this book? I'm not very used to this library." He thought it was an odd sort of question to ask, especially from a Slytherin, but he consented.

"I'm looking for Music: Made By Magic, and a boy said it was here," she said.

"Let me look," said Harry, and he began carefully searching the bookshelf. He had barely started when she said, "Oh, you must be a Gryffindor." She was still smiling sweetly, but Harry was too used to defending his House.

"Yeah, so what if I am?" he said testily.

"Oh, nothing," she said quickly, "I just thought..."

"Thought that I was a Slytherin like you?" he finished for her.

"No, I wasn't thinking that at all," she said alarmed. The smile had left her face, and was replaced with a challenging look. "Just because I'm a Slytherin doesn't mean that I am rude or haughty like most of you saints think."

"Well that's a first," said Harry with a laugh. Her eyes narrowed dangerously.

"If it were just you and me in this room, I'd hang you by your Holy toes until your nose bled. And I wouldn't let you down even then," she said. She stared at him hard to see if he'd do anything, but Harry was too shocked to move. She turned away and hurried to the door. Harry had dealt with the Slytherins' threats before, but none had delivered him one so, so... graphic.

"I'd like to see you try," he suddenly called after her. She stopped and slowly turned to face him, eyeing him carefully. Harry ran his fingers through his hair. Her mouth opened slightly as she saw the scar. Harry couldn't help but smirk as she closed her mouth. For a moment she was speechless trying to compose her words cautiously. "I don't care if your name is Harry Potter or not; you're still just a person with weaknesses like everyone else. And I stand by what I said earlier. Be careful." And with that she left. Well, all he knew is that he thought she actually meant it. But, he also felt that her polite side was real too, not just a cover-up. He had been a little fast with her, for he believed, now, that she actually hadn't meant anything by saying he was a Gryffindor. He felt a little sorry, but the fact that she was a Slytherin drove it out. But he had no idea what being on her bad side meant.

He checked his watch. If he didn't leave soon he was going to be late. So he picked up his bag and headed down to the Dungeons. As Harry walked into the class, barely making it in time, he noticed that he was the only person there who was not a Slytherin... except Hermione. He smiled and sat beside her. She was amazed by his presence. "How did you make it here?" she asked.

"I got an O, that's how," he said with a grin. She was shocked by that response, but as Snape came into the room she straightened.

"As you all know, this is a class for only the most experienced students in this field. And though some of us scrape by," he looked at Harry, "others must truly master the art of potion making. I expect all of you to achieve top marks in this class; and know, that I can and will expell you from my class if I wish to do so. Our first potion will take several days to complete, and it is a difficult potion to master. The Polyjuice Potion..." Harry and Hermione exchanged quick glances. Well, at least Hermione will pass he thought. He knew he would have to spend a lot of time on this subject if he not only wanted to pass it but to make top grades. He could see grueling nights awaiting him. He listened through double Potions that afternoon. They didn't even get to start the potion; Snape had to go through every step, and he had to explain exactly how to stir and pour the ingredients and on and on. Harry felt like he had sat there for a million years, and finally the class let out. As he was exiting, Snape grabbed him by the arm.

"Just because you got in my class doesn't mean that I will take lazy grades from you. If you don't do the work, I will get you expelled from here, Potter," he said forcefully. He let go of Harry's sleeve and pushed him out the door. Harry could tell this was not going to be a pleasant year in Potions. But, then again, it never was.

. The next afternoon, he was walking down the corridor and talking to Ron about yesterday's potions assignment when he noticed Sarah passing him. He could have sworn she had whispered something. And then, it was as if someone had pulled a rug out from under him and swung him in a somersault, in which he landed painfully on his back with a loud POP. Everyone was either laughing or stunned. Obviously, no one in the corridor saw his attacker. He lay there on the floor and took a glance toward Sarah. She was still walking away as if nothing happened. And then she looked over her shoulder at him and sneered with what was possibly a small laugh. He looked back up at the ceiling, frustrated, before letting Ron help him up. So that was why she was in Slytherin. He had honestly thought for a moment that perhaps she wasn't as bad as the rest of them; how stupid could he have been. The last thing he needed now was a clever Slytherin who wouldn't get caught. At least with Draco, everyone knew it was him who was attacking Harry. With his back screaming at him, he continued his walk to class.

His back ached for the next three days. He was finally feeling decent on Tuesday as he headed to breakfast.

"That Sarah's a mean one, she is," said Ron.

"And she's quite smart," said Hermione. Harry looked over at her surprised. He didn't think Hermione would be giving a Slytherin a compliment.

"Oh, yeah," said Ron, "Harry, that girl got scores like Hermione's on her tests. The Slytherins were all bragging about it."

"But it's true," said Hermione, impressed.

Harry didn't feel much like conversation that day, so he hurried through his pancakes and left early for Care of Magical Creatures. He was walking across the damp grounds thinking to himself when he slipped on a patch of mud. All his books went flying. He cursed and got up to start picking them up. "Need help?" came a quick voice. He cringed.

"Not from you," he said crossly. It occurred to him for a second that Sarah could have made him slip on purpose. She bent down and started gathering his things.

"There," she said, handing them to him. "Two are always better than one." She smiled. Harry did not. "So Harry, having a nice day?"

"Not anymore," he muttered.

"Well, then, if I'm not welcome here, I suppose I'll be moving on," she said irritated.

"I'm sorry," he said, "I'm just used to Slytherin's being... "

"I know. But you shouldn't judge people so fast, or on what Houses they are in. Look at your own father and Snape."

"How do you know about that?" he asked surprised.

"My parents used to know them," she replied easily. "I must be going."

If he had wondered who she was before, it was nothing to compare with now. She lived in the U.S., how could she know his father? Which brought up Hermione's suggestion. "She must be here for a reason." Dumbledore probably brought her here. But why? He wanted to find out who she was more than ever, but he didn't dare talk to her more than he already had. He watched her back as she headed to go inside the school. After that she stopped giving him sneering expressions; they were more like that half smile she gave the Slytherins the day she joined their table. She rarely talked to him or to any other Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs, or Ravenclaws. But she soon earned the reputation for being the sweetest Slytherin ever. Everybody thought she was rather polite, even the Slytherins themselves. But just when you thought she was a nice, caring person, she'd turn around and live up to her Slytherin name. You did not say anything that would knock her the wrong way. She was quite daring, always challenging the students that fought with the Slytherins. And nobody really had the guts to accept a challenge, because, even Harry had to admit, she had fire in her blue eyes. One unfortunate student, however, did accept, and he went to the infirmary cross-eyed, with no hair, and his legs muscle-less. It was quite a sight seeing the Ravenclaws hall him off. It nearly made Hermione sick. After that, even the Prefects avoided her and her situations. Fortunately for Sarah, Snape covered for her like he usually did for all the Slytherins. It was well known after two months that Sarah was quite capable of many things ahead of her. She also had the reputation to be possibly the best Slytherin in fifty years. So most stayed away from her unless she was in one of her good moods. She always volunteered to help the teachers. She called this 'moving up the line' to get advantages other students wouldn't have; but Harry called that 'playing the game.' So even when she was being helpful, she always hoped it would give her something back, or so Harry thought.

Harry awoke to a dreary day. Something had been teasing his nerves the whole night. What had it been? He thought for a moment, before he remembered. He looked over at his watch and saw that he was late! He got up to find that everybody else had already gone down to the Quidditch pitch. He threw on a miss match of clothes and ran down to find his team was heading out to the field. "Wait!" he yelled breathing hard after all his running. He caught up to them.

"We thought you'd never come," said Ron looking relieved.

"Why didn't someone come get me?" Harry asked.

"We had hoped that you would have remembered..." started Kirke.

"Hermione was going to check on you," replied Ron.

"Well, she didn't make it, then," Harry said, still catching his breath.

"Well go on, Harry. Get changed... and hurry!" finished Ron. Harry took off to the changing rooms, and, as fast as he could, whipped on his robes. He grabbed his broom up and walked outside where, literally, everyone was waiting for him. He rose into the air and waited for the whistle.

"On my mark..." everyone waited. The whistle was blown. Harry soared around the pitch with Draco watching every move. It was chilly up in the air; a definite sign that fall had arrived.

"And the first game of the year: Gryffindor verses Slytherin. Gryffindor's got a new line up..." Martin Hardy, a Hufflepuff, was calling out to the crowds. Harry circled the field looking again and again for the Snitch.

"And Weasley blocks the Quaffle thrown by the Slytherin Captain..." Hardy continued. "And there goes Grace... Ohhh, hit by a Bludger from Crabbe, and Zabini has the Quaffle. He's heading for the goalposts and... Whoa! That's not right." It was only five minutes into the game, and Harry noticed a skirmish going on below. It appeared the Slytherins had fouled and were arguing their case. Madam Hooch was trying to calm the team down. There were more shouts from down below, but Harry was still keeping his eye out for the snitch. Draco decided to go investigate the problem. Harry was tempted to do so also but thought better of it. And then all hell broke lose. The next thing Harry saw, Draco threw a punch at Ron who, fortunately, dodged it. Harry started to circle towards them. Then Ron seemed to try to tackle Draco, and all the while Madam Hooch was trying to tear them apart. She succeeded, but in doing so Draco drew his wand from beneath his robes and cast a spell to Ron. It accidentally hit Madam Hooch in the back, and she almost fell off her broom. Harry could tell the spell had really hurt whatever it had been. She turned on Draco, and more shouts came. The crowd was booing, and Harry finally joined the outskirts of the huddle that surrounded Draco and Ron. Madam Hooch was saying, "...off the field, now! I have never seen such behavior." The Slytherins all moaned. "Now move, or else I'll drag you off by the ears." With a disgusted look on his face, Draco turned his broom and headed, furiously, back to the changing rooms. "The rest of this match," continued Madam Hooch, "has just been forfeited to Gryffindor for your sour behavior." The Slytherins broke out in hysteria. Madam Hooch blew her whistle and left the Slytherin team in a fury. Harry gave a small smile and headed to the ground as he heard Martin Hardy say, "...and the Slytherin team will have to forfeit the match, and Gryffindor wins! What a day." In the changing rooms, Harry confronted Ron who was a little worked up over the fight.

"So what happened?" Harry asked eagerly. Ron shook his head.

"They got all mad because Hooch called a foul on them, and they said it wasn't fair, tut," replied Ron looking rather tired. "Then they started arguing with us, and Madam Hooch had to give them another foul! After that, they kind of went crazy."

"Why did Draco try to punch you?" Harry pried.

"The Slytherins were accusing us of unfair play, and I said they were the ones who weren't playing fair and stuff like that... and then Draco went for me. After he hit Madam Hooch, she suspended him for the rest of the year." A smile grew on Ron's face. Harry also smiled at the wonderful thought.

"Where was Hermione?" Ron suddenly asked. Now that Harry thought about it, he hadn't seen her at all. He shook his head with a thoughtful expression on his face. He wondered what had been so important that she had to miss the game. And Harry remembered what Ron had said. Hermione was going to check on him but didn't.

They headed out together to the castle eager to find Hermione and tell her what happened.

"Some first match, hey, Potter?" called out his fellow Gryffindors. They patted him on the back as he stepped into his House common room. There was much talk and cheer in the room, and everybody wanted to know what had happened on the field... everybody except Hermione, as she did not appear to be in the room. He asked a few people where she was, but they all shook their heads. Harry decided that he would go and look for her if she did not show up within the next hour.

"Slytherin will be a piece of cake now that Draco's gone," said Dean Thomas.

"He was never very hard to beat in the first place," bragged Ron with much pride.

"No, I meant they don't have a Seeker now," Dean rephrased.

"Which could be bad," said Harry. They both looked at him oddly. "You see, Ron's right. We could beat Draco. But if they get a better Seeker, and it wouldn't take much to find a better one, then we could have a real problem on our hands." Even while saying this Harry was still smiling, for even he considered it good fortune that Slytherin had lost their Seeker. He was pretty sure his theory of the Slytherins finding a better Seeker was highly unlikely. And for the next hour he enjoyed pumpkin juice, laughter, and a wonderful vision of the future of the Gryffindor Quidditch team.

"Where's Hermione?" Ron finally asked.

"I don't know, but I suppose we should go find her," said Harry.

"Where do we start?" thought Ron.

"The library, of course," replied Harry. And off they went to the library.