A/N I hate Kidz Bop.

00mrdragon00- Yay! I'm glad you liked it. Thanks for reviewing.

Chapter Three

Homework September 2- September 6, 1971

Transfiguration- Practice spells from Chapter 1 of the Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1. Write short paragraphs about each spell with their theory and history. Due Monday

Charms- Practice 'Wingardium Leviosa'. So basically nothing.

Herbology- Nothing

Potions- Write a 1 foot essay on the powdered root of asphodel. Due Tuesday.

History of Magic- Write a 1 and a half foot essay on the cause of the Scandinavian troll wars of 1211. Due Thursday.

Defense Against Dark Arts- Nothing.

This is all the work I must complete by Monday morning. It's Saturday morning right now. I have exactly 48 hours to do this. Great. This is so much work for me! I mean, I'm an eleven year old kid. I don't know how to write an essay properly! What if my professors don't like my work? What if they yell at me and shred it up and say I have awful penmanship and sentence structure and make me cry in front of the whole class like Ms. Willinger did last term? Gosh, that was awful. And I worked hard on that, too! The nerve that woman had, tearing up what I had worked so hard for. But that's not the point. The point is that I'm being overworked, of course. I would never have this much work back at my primary school.

If only I had done it during the school week like Rebecca and the boys had. Now they're out playing around the castle and I'm stuck in the common room, sitting in front of a messy pile of textbooks and parchment, being shushed at by a red-faced, zitty fifth year if I sigh too loudly.

Oh, well. I might as well get this over with so I can be free tomorrow. Okay, so let's see….first off the list is Transfiguration. Which I know nothing about. Honestly, it's not even my fault! It's very hard to concentrate properly when Professor McGonagall is watching you like a hawk. And she was especially eyeing me. As if she somehow knew that I would be trouble. Which I'm not. But she still hates me, which is unfair. And she likes that great annoying prat James Potter, which is even more unfair. Teachers shouldn't play favoritism, in my opinion.

I take out my lovely new copy of Standard Book of Spells, Grade One by Miranda Goshawk. I slowly open, taking in all of the quaint little corner pictures, enjoying the interesting little side notes and trivia facts along the side of the page. And now, time for my part. I slowly bring it up under my nose and sniff it. I love doing this. I do this to all the books I come across. This one has a beautiful smell; smooth and distinctly sweet. Like a—

"Eww! Are you sniffing that book?" I hear from somewhere behind me. I whip around and locate the accuser. James Potter. That prat did it again. He managed to publicly embarrass me not once, but twice. How dare he? This is my private time for me and my books, and I'll not allow anyone to ruin it! Oh, he's getting such a telling off from me! I'm gonna show the bloody twit not to mess with Lily Marie Evans….

"Uhh…erm…w-what?" is all I manage to babble. I'm now quite aware of the fact that everyone in the common room has their eyes on me. Some are even laughing at me! I feel my face burning up and I know that I probably resemble a tomato right now. How embarrassing! Now I'll be called the Girl Who Sniffs Books! It'll be a nickname that will stick to me wherever I go 'till my dying day. Oh, the humiliation!

There's only one logical thing I can do in this situation. That is to run. I'm not even going to bother trying to deny it. It's too late now. I leap out of my chair and dash across to the exit, while people are jeering at me. Even after I leave the common room, I still run. I run like a mad thing that runs. I don't even know where I'm going, and I don't bloody care. Hopefully I'll get lost in some hidden closet and die.

I'm getting pretty tired of running. Maybe I'll just walk to my death, which would be more convenient. Wait a minute! I can hear someone crying. Who would be crying? I've just been publicly humiliated, what've they got to be crying about? I follow the sniffles and sobs until I find a small boy about my age sitting in a corner, with his knees brought up to his chest, and his face buried under his arms. He has black, greasy hair and sallow skin. I recognize him! He's the poor boy who was being teased in front of the Entrance Hall on Wednesday. I remember feeling sorry for him.

I stride over to him, take a seat next to him, and put my arm around his shoulder. He automatically places his head on my shoulder, while I stroke him gently. Poor boy! He must be having a tough time here. It doesn't seem that he has many friends or any friends at all. He must be lonely and sad.

"There, there. It'll be alright." I whisper comfortingly into his ear, just like Daddy does. He flinches away from me, as though just noticing me.

"Who're you?" he demands rather rudely. I stare into his black, wet eyes.

"My name is Lily Ev—" I begin, before he cuts me off.

"Are you a Mudblood?" he asks, eyeing me suspiciously. What the bloody hell is he on about?

"Excuse me. A what, pardon?" I ask.

"Oh, you must be one. Lucius told me if I hang out with your crowd, he'd make my life even more miserable and pathetic than it already is." he spat disdainfully.

"Well, he sounds like trouble. You shouldn't hang around with him!" I advise him cautiously.

"You don't understand anything, do you? You just come into Hogwarts, prancing around like you own the place when your blood's not even of any worth." he hissed, walking away, leaving me shocked and confused. What just happened? And what the heck is a Mudblood?

I get up, and decide I should probably head over to the Great Hall. It must be lunchtime. As I get nearer and nearer, I can hear the whispers and giggles of other students. Are they laughing at me? No, those girls are Hufflepuffs. But what if the news spread around the whole castle? What if everyone now thinks I'm a total freak, and I can never have a chance to be popular? Argh! I hate James Potter! He's such a loser.

I sit down at the Gryffindor table. Rebecca's already there, eating an apple.

"Hey, I heard what happened to you." she tells me, smirking a bit.

"Don't remind me. It was terrible." I moan, burying my face into my arms.

"Well, Remus said it was funny." Rebecca says.

"What? Have they been telling the whole school?" I ask, turning around to see if anyone's staring.

"No. I just asked where you had gone to." she said.

"He's still in for it."

I waited until I saw the boys arrive. James grinned at me as he sat down.

"Hey, Evans. Sniffed some good books lately?" he asks cheekily.

"Shut up, shut up! I'm gonna get you, Potter. So you'd better watch out." I threaten in what I think is a soft, deadly voice.

Then I just ignore him as I grab a strawberry yogurt, a ham and lettuce sandwich, and a goblet of pumpkin juice, and start eating. My eyes wander around the room as I suddenly spot the boy who was crying. His face is still a bit tearstained, and his eyes are red and puffy.

"Hey, Becky, you see that boy over there?" I ask her, pointing in the direction of the boy.

"Oh, that's old Snivellus." said Sirius.

"Huh? You know him? Well, I hope you're nice to him."

"Of course we're not! He's a foul git. And he's a Slytherin." Peter tells us.

"But that's awful. He was crying this morning. I saw him."

"Haha! We have a new nickname for him. Crybaby Snivellus! Thanks, Evans."

"Shut up, Potter. I saw you crying in the library the other day. 'I miss my mummy and daddy'." I say, mimicking him.

"That's a lie!"

"No it's not."

"Yes it is."

"No it's not!"

"Yes!"

"No. And I'll tell the whole school if you don't leave me alone. I told you I'd get you. So hahahahahahaha!"

A/N Okay, puh-lease review! Please. It's not that hard. Just press that purple button and tell me if you like it or not. PLEASE!