Disclaimer: Blah, blah, blah. Everything belongs to J.K.Rowling except for 'Mandi DeVaine' who belongs to Silver Tears 11 and 'Blaire White' who belongs to me! Oh and the headline partly belongs to Bullied!

A/N: This fic was written as a companion piece to Silver Tears 11's story 'Until Death Do Us Part' (the story kinda makes more sense if you read that first.) And though this definitely pales in comparision to that one, it was fun writing it!

Last One Standing

September the First. I stood among all the other students staring out at the pathetic rag that they called a hat as it sang. Sang. I felt like laughing my head off. My first day and I see a hat singing. What's next? Dancing Trolls? Actually, don't answer that.

The hat finally finished its song. I stifled a yawn as names started being called. All the first years seemed to be on the verge of a nervous breakdown while I just wanted to get over with the sorting. The girl beside me started sending nasty glares at everybody and most of those around her started edging away. Funny character, she was. Kind of impatient though... Amusing would be a good word for her.

Her name was called and she strode over to the hat. I watched her curiously. What was her name again? Devaine? She looked like someone I should keep an eye out for. Proud and had a nasty streak running a furlong wide. Five minutes later she became a Slytherin. I snorted inwardly. Big surprise that.

I waited patiently for my turn to come. That basically meant I was twirling on my toes and making a fool of myself in front of all the other first years. Why did I have to be the last person to end up being sorted?

"White, Blaire."

Oh yes, FINALLY. I strode over to the hat making sure that I didn't do anything silly like trip over my hem. I'd never forgive myself if I did something that stupid.

I sat down on the rickety stool and had the hat placed on my head. Sheesh, the owner of this hat must have had one huge, conceited, ego-inflated head!!! I could barely see the hall but I could imagine the faces of all the students staring at me impatiently. Oh well, they'll just have to wait.

Well, Miss White. What have we here?

I rolled my eyes and tried my hand at sarcasm. A student waiting to be sorted obviously.

Too bad I'm not really good at it.

Indeed. Now let's see. Where shall you go?

Well, let me try making it simpler. I don't think Hufflepuff's the best choice.

I thought about my best friend's accusations about being a self-concerned bitch and my mom telling me I was so cold hearted. The hat seemed to pick up on my thoughts.

Hmmm…those seem to be rather nasty memories. I think we can eliminate Hufflepuff. You aren't hard working either unless the occasion really calls for it. You've got a brilliant mind but you care nothing for knowledge unless it's for your own benefit.

Of course,what else is the point of it?

And even though you're brave and courageous, you don't happen to truly trouble about anybody except yourself. And you love manipulating people.

I smiled at that.

People exist to be played with.

Hmmm...I wondered if I had overplayed my hand.

I think we both know where you should go.

Obviously. I knew where I'd end up from the beginning but chatting with the hat was kind of funny.

"SLYTHERIN!"

I got up, placed the hat back on the stool and walked to the clapping table. I sat opposite that Devaine girl. She tossed me a look and the white albino sitting next to her sneered at me. I merely yawned and grinned at them, teeth flashing. I could almost see the wheels churning in their head.

They thought that just because I was cheerful and happy, I was meant to be a Hufflepuff. No worries, I'd soon disillusion them of that. And if they underestimated me, it'd be their own fault. I had a feeling then, (even thought I hadn't inherited my family's prophetic skills) that we would be the best of friends.

Of course, nothing would prepare me for the sight in front of me nearly a decade later. The Daily Prophet's headlines screamed 'DOUBLE SUICIDE OF DEATH EATERS IN AZKABAN'

I sighed as I stared at the paper. Those two were always too impatient for their own good. I threw the newspaper into the burning fireplace before walking over to the study table and pulling some letters out. These would be good fuel for the fire. After all, they had no other use now.

These were letters between the remaining free Death Eaters planning an Azkaban break in. The right people had been blackmailed and bribed and everything was set in place. If only those two had waited a bit longer. But they hadn't known that I still cared about them. They thought I was a traitor.

After Snape's little deflection, I was the perfect spy. The Dark Lord's unseen eye. The girl who was cheerful and friendly enough to make friends in all the right places to get into the Order of the Phoenix. But that meant deserting them. I had planned on surprising them in the end but now it was too late.

As I threw the letters into the fire, I cast a glance at my bare forearms. Muggles are such an understimated race. I love some of their inventions! Those shiny, glowing painting-like-boxes and toasters, for instance. Why couldn't the wizarding race discover a spell to toast bread exactly as per requirements yet?

I ran a finger over the smooth, unmarked skin of my forearms. And I must agree, their plastic surgery isn't half bad either...