Whoah. I started this back on Jan. 20 and I'm finally getting back to it on Feb. 6. I'm really super dooper sorry! 

BE SURE TO READ ALL OF CAINABELLA'S STORIES OR ELSE WE WILL FEED YOU TO MY 13 POUND BOSTON TERRIER, LILY!

Reviews:

xtotallyatpeacex: Well, yeah. Gonna create some serious angst. I have no clue what you are talking about in the 4th paragraph, but I did just update that thing with Dumbledore so that he doesn't spill the beans that she is a Metamorphmagus (he IS getting old, perhaps he had amnesia?) but I have no idea what you were trying to say after that. As for being so sad that she couldn't Metamorphmagate (? Verb form ?), I think you read my mind…00 Meanwhile, I'm really sorry but eventually she will hang out with Harry but not for a lonnnnnnnnng time (sort of my own fantasy about being in love with Harry, he's just a likeable guy, you know?).

Rosygirl: That's the POINT silly—ANGST!

Molly: Like I said to xtotallyatpeacex and Rosygirl, oh yeah. Serious serious serious angst! WOOT! I've also told you before that twincest is the most disgusting thing ever, but, as you may find out in this chapter, Draco is toying with the idea of twincest (even though he doesn't know she's his twin). So is that twincest? It isn't her fault, anyway. I mean, she is very good-looking and she...well...attracts guys. What can I say? It sort of triggers her outcasted-ness.

Molly stumbled over to the Slytherin table in a daze. What was going on? Holy cow. She was in Slytherin? Her family House for 50 gajillion years? This was really messed up. She found a seat next to Pansy Parkinson and dessert was served—Chocolate cookie dough ice cream, apple pie, chocolate cake (all Molly's favorites)—but she didn't touch any of it.

After dinner, Molly blindly followed the Slytherins down to a dungeon. Why were they going here? They can't possibly…

Live in the dungeon? How awful was this? Gregory Goyle, Vincent Crabbe, Pansy Parkinson, and—Molly seethed with anger—her own brother Draco muttered the password which was Serpent A/N yes, I know, that was very weak for a password, I was going to have pureblood but I remembered they used that in the second year and entered the common room, Molly close behind. There was her brother, that awful, conniving, little sonuvabeeatch whom she wished had never been born.

Draco turned around.

"Hello," he drawled, "I'm Draco Malfoy. You are a Pureblood, I presume?"

"You might say that,"

"Good. I suppose you'll fit right in. This is Pansy Parkinson, Gregory Goyle, and Vincent Crabbe. Welcome to Slytherin."

Molly wanted to punch him in the face.

"Thank you," she managed to say curtly.

"I might like to add that you are incredibly hot,"

"That's absolutely disgusting!" Molly said, beside herself with rage.

"You don't like guys, do you? So you're a lesbian? Ew, that's gross! What a vile creature you are--" A/N I have nothing against homosexuals, but obviously Draco does.

"NO! I just—don't believe in ince—I mean—I don't like bastards who keep combs in their back pockets, like you."

Pansy Parkinson shrieked. "You don't like Draco Malfoy? What the Hell is wrong with you? He's only the hottest and richest guy in our House!"

Molly realized she had seriously screwed up. She didn't know it yet, but she had officially made herself an outcast with Slytherins forever.

Later that night, as Molly lay on her ugly green and silver four poster bed, Donagh brought her tomorrow's schedule. Things seemed to be looking up—she had Potions with Gryffindor, Charms with Hufflepuff, and Care of Magical Creatures with Ravenclaw. At least she would get to meet all of the people in her grade, right?

Molly went to bed early, to be ready for the next day, her very first day of school. She found it hard to sleep in the cold, dank, dungeons, with Pansy Parkinson snoring away, but she was going to have to manage. Perhaps it wasn't even the fact that she was in the dungeons, but more the fact that she was in Slytherin. Slytherin. Slytherin. The word echoed through her head nonstop during the night. She made a mental note to get another Sleeping Potion from Dumbledore the next day. When she finally fell asleep, it was a fitful one.

At dawn, Molly woke. She didn't want to go back to bed, so she slid on her slippers and crept out of the girls' dormitory. In the common room, she magically lit a fire and sat in an armchair, shivering. How come Slytherins had to be so damn cold? Their mascot was a snake, and snakes were cold-blooded, so they had to be in warm places to stay alive right?

Snap out of it, Molly. You're reading into things too much again, she reminded herself. She pulled her robe up tighter around her pajamas. A glance at her watch told her it was only 4:37. Breakfast was at 7. How was she going to wait that long? That wasn't quite as bad as the next mystery: How did she manage to wake up so freaking early?

Molly decided to read some books. She wasn't really in the mood to read a spell book, but she went back to her trunk (which she had purchased in Diagon Alley a few weeks before) and pulled out an old favorite: The Lord of The Rings. Around 6:50, Molly had read a good hundred pages when Draco swaggered into the room, Pansy on his arm.

"Hello, filth."

"Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Bastard," Molly replied coolly.

"You little bitch!" Pansy started for Molly, but Molly, as tall and thin as she was, nimbly avoided her grasp.

Draco sniggered. "Come now Pansy, we don't hurt newcomers." This seemed to be some sort of cruel inside joke between the two of them, because Pansy laughed and retreated to his arms.

"You're right, Draco, baby."

"Am I ever wrong?"

Molly suppressed a smile.

Maybe it wouldn't be so bad, Molly thought, heading for the Great Hall.

Whaddya think?