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"Slytherin!" yelled the hat. My eyes widened, and I walked over to the table of rude bullies. I caught Angelina's eye from where she was sitting at the Gryffindor table.

"It's okay." she mouthed. Either that or "Stay away." Anyways, Marcus must've told the other Slytherins I wasn't a pureblood, so everyone glared or whispered, "why's a mudblood here?" It was dreadful, really. I hated the lot of them without even knowing their names. I sat down between a third year girl with long black hair and startling blue eyes and a fourth year boy who was short and brunette. Both scooched away from me, and I ran a hand through my copper, ruler-straight hair nervously. The sorting continued, and Alicia, Fred, and George all headed to the Gryffindor table. My heart sank. Why was I different from all my friends? Did they still want to be my friends?

Dinner started, and my worries were shoved to the back burner. I piled turkey legs and mash onto my plate, and began to dig in. It tasted better than a five star restaurant, and within mere minutes I was cutting up a slab of steak and stuffing myself with food.

Dinner suddenly vanished, the spoon and buttered peas I was lifting to my mouth disappeared, and pies, cakes, ice creams, peppermint creams, candies, and chocolates appeared. I piled a little of everything onto my plate. I turned around to see Fred and George's expressions of glee. When Fred caught my eye, he winked, then catapulted whip cream at me. It didn't hit me, though, It hit the third year girl sitting next to me. She turned to me, cracking her knuckles, and said, "you think that's funny, you little muggle!? I'll get you for that. Just you wait…" and turned to talk to Marguerite Nott.

I copied down notes in History of Magic, my JCI pen writing scratchy, as it was almost out of its purple ink. For some reason, people would look over at me, confusion in their eyes, as my pen wrote out notes.

*handwriting*

-Goblin rebellion of 906

-Gormac the gross led troops into fortress of Merlin

-Slaughtered G. Gryffindor

-reclaimed jewel of moonlight

-Slytherin saved day with basilisk

-treaty of Mordrok

~sword of gryffindor

~peace for one century *LATER BROKEN*

~'the execution'- largest goblin execution in history, over 9,000 killed…

Eventually, I looked over to Cara Flint (Marcus' younger sister in my year, surprisingly nice), and whispered, "Cara, why is everyone looking at my funny?"

"Quinn." she said. I found that a bit odd. A few minutes later, Professor Binns cleared everything up for me.

"Miss Longblitz, I must ask you to put away that muggle toy and take out a quill and ink." he droned, in his vacume-y voice. i understood what Cara had been trying to say now, at least. He continued on. "Your 'pin' will not be tolerated any longer. You may not use it in class or on standardized test, et cetera. Thank you."

I would have given up all my money (which admittedly wasn't much, I'm as poor as a mouse) to have my ballpoint pen turn into a quill and inkwell. Why couldn't my first lesson have been transfiguration? I sighed, and finished my notes up quietly, listening to people snigger at me.

Was I right to wish for transfiguration as my first class?

No. The answer is clearly no.

The next day I found out what Marguerite's revenge was- she told me that Professor Mcgonagall didn't call on people to raise their hands- no no, it was much better to just shout out the answer.

Hello, I'm Quinn Lisbond, and I've survived a Mcgonagall word assault. Just a few hours ago, I blurted out an answer in class due to a rude girl, and now I am scared for life. If you too have PTSD from dear Mrs. Mcgonagall, please call 1-800-283-1006. I'm a survivor, and you can be too!

Blast, I sound like a teleprompter, don't I!

Lets just let that explain how it went, shall we?

So, Mcgonagall was all "Who knows the steps to transfigure one object to another," Then I was all "Well you take out your wand, visualize, blah blah blah," and she went all psycho on me, like "OMG I DID NOT CALL ON YOU SO IM GOING TO HATE YOU FOREVERRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!"

Okay, maybe that's not exactly how it happened, but still.

Snape didn't like me very much either- he made me answer a bunch of hard questions and told me I was stupid- ("Just because you come from a muggle family doesn't give you an excuse to not know anything! I am ashamed to call you a Slytherin!")

In fact, the only people at school who didn't hate me were Professor Dumbledore, Fred, George, Lee Jordan, and Alicia. Angelina believed the nasty rumours Marcus and Theodore were spreading about how my mother was descended from the people in Salem who burned witches for sport.

One sleepy afternoon, Fred and I were by the lake feeding the Giant Squid and working on a dancing pineapple charm, when he decided to take our friendship one step further. Thats right folks, Fred asked me if he could give me a nickname.

"I've already decided on it- you're porcupine."

"What?"

"Porcupine."

"I don't-"

He looks at me impatiently. "When we first met, you were by a book about porcupines. Now what're ya calling me?"

"Fred."

"Pardon?"

"I'm not giving you a nickname."

"lamo!" he muttered.

I rolled my eyes and made a kiwi dance into the squid's mouth.

"Porcupine, why does George always use that muggle thing? What does it do?" asked Fred, tentatively.

I laughed. "Well, Fred, it's called a pen, and they're like quills but a lot easier to write with." I replied. "I find it funny how people with magic could still be using something as primitive as quills and inkwells." I added.

"Well Miss smarty pants, without inkwells, you can't do this!" he exclaimed, and he promptly dumped a pot of ink over my head.

A regular charmer, that one.

Whew! New chapter coming soon, I hope!

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~GoF