What never ceases to amuse me about first years is the looks on their faces. You can always tell which ones are muggle-born, too, as they always have this look of utter disbelief about them. I'd imagine it's about the same look any muggle would have if you shoved them into a crowded Great Hall. I can't say that I was particularly wowed by the sight; Klaus had told me so much about it, I'd had a fairly decent idea of what it would be like months before the event would actually take place. I suppose you could say I was a bit jaded about the whole thing, but that's just how I am.

Despite the lengthiness of the ceremony, I found that, for once, I managed to pay attention. It could've been due to the fact that I spent my time scanning the crowd of incoming firsties for the youngest, and only female, Weasley child. I'd bet the twins three galleons that the hat wouldn't even be on her head for two seconds before it called out "Gryffindor." They said that the hat would barely have time to touch her head before it decided. I had a gut feeling I was right, but there was always the chance, no matter how slim, that I could be wrong.

I remembered awkwardly approaching the stool, nervously taking a seat, and the deep inhale I took before I felt the hat touch my head. To be completely honest, I've had a vendetta against hats since the hat started speaking to me. Anyway, I thought the thing was completely barmy and told, erm, thought it so. Of course the hat had a response, being that I was witty and had a very promising future as a...

"RAVENCLAW!"

I looked up to see who my beloved house had just acquired. Eh, no one of particular consequence, as far as I could tell. Anyway, back to the story of my being placed in Ravenclaw. Unlike most people, I would've clawed that hat to bloody strips of cloth had it not put me in the house of my ancestors. Who would want to be the one person to ever be placed in a house that wasn't the one everyone else in your family had ever been placed in? Not me, I assure you.

After taking a seat next to Klaus at the Ravenclaw table, I watched as the rest of the first years were sorted. I remember when McGonagall called, "Wood, Oliver," and how I prayed to any higher being out there that the Scottish vermin didn't end up in my house. And, thankfully, he didn't. He was sorted into Gryffindor, which I couldn't understand, because he didn't seem particularly loyal or brave. But, hey, maybe he wasn't well suited for any other house and, in desperation, the hat had just put him in the first house alphabetically. There's only so much a bloody hat can do, y'know?

"Rue, how was your summer then?" Fiona Cavendish asked. She was a fellow chaser, and overall, a brilliant mate.

"Eh, y'know, the usual. Spending time abroad with Uncle Freidrich, solving historical mysteries, ah, and I spent a week at the National German's junior training camp."

"You did what?" Roger Davies cried, interrupting my conversation with Fiona.

Max Jamison cried happily, "That's bloody wicked, Rue! We're going to be better than ever this!"

"I hope so," I said. "But we're going to up the practices this year, yeah? Four times a week, and if your marks aren't up, you'll be on probation."

"Seriously?"

"But my marks are terrible!"

"You can't do that to us!"

"Bloody Nazi!"

I rolled my eyes. Always taking a jab at my nationality. Jealousy doesn't suit anyone.

"Y'know," Davies said, attempting to appear thoughtful, "one might say you're coming off a bit like Wood."

All right, I can put up with people making Nazi jokes, but I draw the line when someone tries to compare me to Macduff.

"I am not like Wood. At all," I seethed.

Our group was silent. Max, the closest to Roger, leaned over to him and advised him to take his comment back and apologise.

"Why would I apologise? It's true."

He's a bloody idiot. I closed my eyes and sighed.

"You're on probation, Davies."

"What?"

"You heard me, you twat. You're on probation until further notice. In fact, I think I'll hold try outs sooner, just to find your replacement."

"You can't do that- Flitwick would never let you."

"I think he would. It's my team, last I checked."

"Wha- I... You... Huh?"

"If you want to be on the team for our second game of the year, you'd better not upset me further. And you'd better be practicing on your own, because I won't let you play if you can't fly well after a few weeks of no Quidditch."

So it didn't really play out like that. I wish it had. I mean, if I had the power to write my life, or direct it, or however higher beings play their games, I would've definitely played out that scene as aforementioned. However, when I opened my eyes, it really went a little more like this:

"Oh, you think so?"

"Yeah, actually, I do," he said haughtily.

"I'd advise you to shut your bloody hole, Davies," I sneered.

"Why? What are you going to do about it?"

I shrugged and grumbled in defeat.

I walked with Fiona as we meandered the corridors, en route to our common room. I really need to grow a back bone, I thought to myself, remembering the almost, not-quite confrontation with Davies.

"So, do you fancy Wood any?"

I groaned and looked over at her, raising an eyebrow.

"Why do you always ask me that?"

Apparently Fiona's got it all figured out in her silly little head: I was madly infatuated with Wood, and he with me, and we would one day wed and have a happy little family. Right, Fi, like that's ever going to happen.

"Oh, c'mon. He's attractive, he plays Quidditch, and he's not exactly an idiot," she counted off simultaneously on her fingertips.

"That's just what he wants you to think."

"Yeah, sure, if you say so."

"No, really! He truly is the horrid Scot that I paint him to be! Seriously, he tried to sabotage our Hufflepuff game last year, remember? He isn't all sweet and lovely and-"

"Seems like you've spent a lot of time making up excuses over the summer, Rue," Fiona said, quickly answering the riddle we were posed. I followed her into the Common Room.

"Rue, we're going to break down the percentages of the things you think about on a daily basis, mmkay?"

"No, it's not 'mmkay'."

"Oh, hush up," she said, as we climbed the stairs to our dormitory.

"So, you've got thirty percent of your daily thinking focusing on Quidditch, thirty-five percent of it planning ways to torture Wood, and other "unsuspecting victims," as you so kindly put," she paused.

"Yeah, so, there's thirty-five percent left." I have to help Fiona with maths a lot.

"All right, what else do you think about on a daily basis then?"

"Well, I'd say about thirty percent is dedicated to studies."

"Mmkay, and the last five percent?"

"Attractive males and other indulgent fantasies."

"Oooh, like who?"

"Wouldn't you like to know."

"Actually, I would. Oh, wait, lemme guess- WOOD."

I forced myself to laugh, "You are just so clever, Fi."

"I know, I know."

"For your information, I did have a thing for Charlie Weasley."

"Did you really?"

"Yeah, but I'm over it. I've moved on, as they say."

Fiona rolled her eyes and flopped down on her bed, next to mine.

"You're a silly girl, Rue."

"Not any more so than you, dearest."

Woah, second chapter. I hope you're enjoying things so far, and if you are, I'd love to hear about it- via review. Now, everything you don't recognize from the Harry Potter universe is mine, but that which you do recognize is thanks to the brilliance of J.K. Rowling. Anyway, keep reading and please review! Yours.