Ginny had been avoiding me like the plague. I first thought that it was because I was finally making some Slytherin acquaintances, besides Matthew, that were actually in my year. Melody Downkork was the first girl that ever talked to me in a civilised manner. Melody was loud and had little regard for rules and authority. I'm guessing that's kind of the reason she talked to me. Melody was a pureblood, like most people in Slytherin (of course), but she literally did not give two damns about social conventions regarding blood purity that pretty much ruled the Slytherin realm. I took a quick liking to her, and even though I wouldn't call her my best friend, she was definitely the closest I had to a Slytherin girl friend. She became somewhat of a confidant, someone I knew I could rely on. But then again, I wouldn't share everything with her. Like I said, Melody wasn't within the circle of people I would blindly trust. Even so, she was nice company.

The other girl we shared a room with was the sister of one of Malfoy's empty-minded followers. Her name was Astoria Greengrass. She never talked, period. While at some point I thought that she didn't talk because I was not a pureblood, and hence not on her level, she didn't talk to Melody either. Therein where I deduced that she just wasn't too much of a talker. But Melody was enough for the both of them, so eventually Astoria started talking. My bet was that she gave in; she either joined our talks or drowned in her own bitterness while trying to sleep and not being able to. It also didn't help that Melody kept on stubbornly dragging her into our little night chats. Astoria may have been shy at first, and certainly doubtful about associating with a muggle-born such as myself, but eventually she started to mold into the group that I was slowly finding myself to be in. I didn't know if her sister knew, probably she didn't because I would have thought Daphne to tell her sister off or something; something that hadn't happened. Matthew said that it was probably because the Greengrass sisters didn't really get along, but Astoria rarely talked about her family so I couldn't back Matthew up with his theory. Although he probably knew far more than I did and didn't even need my backup.

The last two that belonged to our little group were Lisa Cropper, and her twin brother John Cropper. I didn't share a room with Lisa, seeing as she was a year older than I was. However, Lisa and John were really good friends with Matthew. Since he spent most of his time with me, I suppose they decided to join in, too. Much like Matthew, John and Lisa didn't care that I was a muggle-born, much to my relief. So now, I had two new friends in my year group and another two in a year above. They were really nice people, and I tried to introduce them to Ginny whenever the opportunity was given, but she would always leave with pretty lame excuses. If I didn't know her any better, I would have probably believed her excuses for not wanting to spend time with my new friends and me. But I did know her, and the fact that she went from lively, vivacious Ginny Weasley to secluded, ghostly Ginevra Weasley turned a bright red alert in my brain.

Adding to Ginny's odd behaviour, things in Hogwarts had started to get more and alarming too. Apparently there was a thing called The Chamber of Secrets and, thanks to the messages written on the wall by God knows who, the whole school knew it had been opened.

So far; a cat, 2 boys, and a ghost had been petrified. I didn't even know that ghosts could be petrified. Then again, I didn't know ghost existed before Hogwarts so I was probably the least likely to understand half of the things that were going on at the present time. Not that it mattered, though. I had Hermione, the ever-walking encyclopaedia, and Matthew, pureblood extraordinaire, who had more life experiences than theory (which is pretty much what Hermione had).

"I think your sister could have a very valid point." Matthew said, once he was done eating his dinner.

"Yeah, but Malfoy? I mean, look at him!" I had told Matthew about how Hermione, Harry and Ron were pretty convinced that the Heir of Slytherin, and the one responsible for the petrifications circling around the school, was none other than Draco Malfoy. Matthew moved forward slightly in his sit to eye Malfoy. Sure enough, he was being praised about something by his dim-witted idiots. There was no way in hell that Malfoy was the heir. Not now, not ever.

Matthew rolled his eyes, "alright, he is rather lame."

"Not to mention a coward." I added, eyeing Malfoy with a hateful expression. As he tucked a piece of whatever he was eating into his disgusting little mouth, I silently wished he'd choke. I imagined his petty little face turning bright red while his hands went for his neck, stupidly trying to breath. As if wrapping his disgusting looking hands around his stupid chicken neck would help him in the slightest. I imagined how his face would then turn purple, as the oxygen left his body. The idea caused me to smirk, but as soon as the smirk appeared it was gone. It scared me how my imagination could turn to such dark places. It was one thing to hate the kid, but another entirely to wish him death. Or maybe it was ok, as long as I didn't act in response.

"You alright there, Corinne?" Matthew snapped me out of my very scary fantasies. He had one eyebrow raised, his eyes slowly scanning my face.

I quickly recovered, knowing he'd know if I didn't keep my features under control, "Perfectly fine, yeah."

But his suspicious eyes didn't leave my face, and his raised eyebrow did not return to its normal place. Suddenly, he got up, grabbed my arm and forcefully pulled me up with him. I started to protest, but it was futile. I didn't want to make a scene in the Great Hall, what with the teachers present, and my sister there, and Malfoy too. So instead, I tried my best not to trip and followed his hurried steps out of the crowed hall.

Once outside, I kept on following his almost frantic galloping. His head darted to different directions, and then he would turn left or right depending on which choice dealt with less crowded aisles. He finally stopped; rounding one last corner, then checked if the we were really alone.

"Would you care to explain what the hell was that about?" I asked, slightly annoyed and out of breath. Matthew was taller than me; his legs covered more ground than mine did, so after practically running after him I obviously had to use more oxygen since my pace was more hurried than his because of his stupid long legs.

"Why didn't you say you were a metamorphmagus?" he asked, completely disregarding my clearly annoying tone of voice. His tone was serious, his face straight. I hated that most Slytherins were so goddamn good at hiding their emotions. I wanted to have that ability so badly. The possibilities of completely covering your features with a mask were endless!

Matthew raised his eyebrows, exasperated. He was probably waiting for a quick answer, but I didn't even know what he was asking. I had forgotten by now what word he had even used. It had sounded like a complicated word, one I did not know at all. Metamorphosis? Is that what he said? Metatate? Metamarph? Memphsus? Were those even real words?

"Corinne!" he screamed, his face now showing how irritated and slightly worried he was. Ha! I had cracked his emotionless mask of coolness. Corinne Granger, the cracker of Slytherins supreme! "What's so funny? This is serious, for Merlin's sake!"

I cursed again that I couldn't have enough control of my facial expressions to hide how amusing I thought my thoughts were, "What do you want, Fitzgerald?" I answered, a tad bit annoyed. He had, after all, dragged me out of dinner. It was ok that he was done eating, but I wasn't. Plus, I wasn't done hating Malfoy. It was only rude to interrupt one's hatred.

"For you to tell me, in all honesty, why you didn't think to mention that you were a metamorphmagus, Granger."

"Metarphus? What on earth is a metarphus?"

Matthew rolled his eyes, and sighed, clearly irritated. "This is no time for jokes, Corinne. I mean it when I say that this is serious."

"I'm not joking! I honestly don't know what a metarphus is!" he was starting to anger me. Expecting me to just know what he was talking about. He knew I was new, maybe too new, to this whole world and yet here he was demanding that I tell him something that I didn't freaking know.

He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose in an attempt to calm down. Matthew, in general, was one of the most well put together person I've ever met. He was able to maintain sanity when most people couldn't. I would often compare him to water. Water's easy going, and adapts to any container you put it into. That was who Matthew was. He just flowed, much like water did. When you ask people to calm down, most would think about the sound of the ocean; waves crashing into the shore with a soft, harmonious sound. Or falling rain, soft drizzles that could lull anything into a state of utter tranquillity. Matthew was water. Not that water wasn't destructive, I'm sure Matthew could be like a tsunami if provoked. But, for the most part, he was a very halcyon boy.

"Matt, I really don't know what you're talking about." I dared to approach him, slowly, like someone who approaches the unknown.

"Do you really not know what a metamorphmagus is?" his eyes were glued to the floor, refusing to look at me. It was as though the fact that I was whatever he said I was troubled him deeply. As if it meant trouble, the kind of trouble that could cause a war.

I shook my head, indicating him that I didn't.

The silence in the room grew dense after my truthful response. I could see Matthew's head working in a million directions, looking for either a way to explain or a way to avoid having to. It was obvious he knew something I completely ignored, and what was worse, it was something that concerned me. How could he know more about myself than I did? It was ridiculous.

"I'm guessing you're telling me?" I asked, feeling the intense necessity to speak. I didn't like silence. Silence was a slow murderer. It was as deafening as someone screaming in my ear, maybe even more so.

He ran a shaky hand through his dark brown hair, "Well, I have to. Don't I?" his eyes were still not looking at me, and it scared me that maybe I was something worse than a muggle-born. Maybe I wasn't even human, a creature that he really did hate as much as Malfoy hated muggle-borns. Would Hermione hate me, too?

"Metamorphmagi are extremely rare. I mean…you have to understand that there is probably just 1 in a zillion." He stopped, and then finally dared to meet my eyes. "You know, I first suspected it when Malfoy's harassment started to take a toll on you. One day, you were sitting by Lake and before they started to pick on you, your hair was blonde. But then, they came and started calling you names. I could tell it upset you, but that wasn't what caught my attention. It was your hair. It started getting darker and darker until it reached a deep black. You see what I'm saying?"

"Yeah I see what you're saying. You need glasses, that's it." I said matter-of-factly. I wasn't another creature. I was human, but this dumb idiot had just seen wrong. "My hair is blonde. See?" I said showing one lock to him, but to my surprise my hair wasn't my natural blonde. Instead, it was an ugly shade of bright red. Not like Ginny's. No, this was actual red.

I dropped the lock that I had wrapped around my finger as though it was on fire. My heart began beating faster and faster. I was too scared about whatever that had just happened to conjure a logical thought. I was panicking. I was a monster. Humans don't change their hair colour just like that! Humans have one hair colour, and if they wished to change it, they went to saloon. I hadn't gone to a saloon since my arrival at Hogwarts and, if I had, I wouldn't dye my hair this ugly shade of red!

"That's the thing that metamorphmagi do. They have the ability to alter their physical appearance at will. You don't need potions or spells, unlike the rest of us." Matthew continued, watching in either admiration or fear-I didn't know- as my hair returned to its natural blonde.

"AM I HUMAN?!" the high-pitch in my voice gave my panic away. Tears were starting to gather in the pits of my eyes. I didn't want this. How did I get rid of this? Was there some antidote I could take? Take it back! I don't want it!

"What?" Matthew's face contorted into a very confused expression, and then he did something I didn't think he could given that I was a freaking monster; he laughed.

His laughter grew louder when he saw just how panicked and now confused I was. My anger grew ten thousand times more intense, causing my hair to change to a dangerous shade of bright, firely orange. It probably looked like my hair was on actual fire. My eyes changed to a bright red, and only then did Matthew stop laughing. I probably looked more hideous than anything in the whole world. A sense of satisfaction swam through me.

"Alright, alright now. Calm down. You are still human, Corinne. You were just born with a rather brilliant ability. Trust me, a lot of wizards and witches alike would kill for what you were born with." He smiled encouragingly. Like a big brother would when he was excruciatingly proud of his little sister. It was meant to calm me down, and I have to admit that it did. I was relieved that he didn't hate me for this thing that I could do, relieved that I as human and relieved that Hermione wouldn't hate me either. God knows I could deal with Matthew's hatred, but never with Hermione's.

"If that is all, why were you looking so troubled then? I mean it's not dangerous, is it?" I asked remembering how just mere minutes ago he was practically having a panic fit himself.

Matthew eyed me cautiously. I could tell he definitely knew something important about this newly discovered gift of mine. Yet, I doubt he would tell me. It was written all over his face. A secret he clearly wasn't bound to reveal.

"That's not for me to tell." And with those last words, Matthew turned his back on me and started to walk away.

It had been weeks since Matthew and I ever spoke of this whole metamorphmagus business. For some reason, he refused to talk about it, always claiming that it was not his business to begin with. It seemed as though he had very clear instructions to not tell me anything no matter how hard I pressed, but I didn't know from where or from whom he was getting them. My first instinct was that it probably had to do with Hermione, and yet she genuinely didn't know what I was talking about. Eventually she did her own research on metamorphmagi, and I received more information than I ever got from Matthew's stubborn sealed lips. However, I still had no idea why he seemed so out of himself when he first drew his hypothesis into one conclusion. He was angry, confused, bewildered and concerned. He sometimes even seemed paranoid. For example, the other day we were walking through the aisles of Hogwarts towards the Lake. The whole way, he kept on looking around, as if we were being followed; eyes big and alert. All paranoid actions right there.

I had tried to get him to tell me what was wrong, because something definitely was, but he said he didn't know what I was talking about. After trying so hard, I eventually gave up on him. I would just have to find another way around it, find someone else who could tell me why it was such a big deal that I was a metamorphmagus. Sure, they were extremely rare, but that wasn't what was bothering Matthew. There was something else there, something I couldn't quite put my finger on.

To make matters worse, my week couldn't have gotten any better when I was asked by Professor McGonagall to accompany her. She claimed that it was urgent, and I didn't know what could be so urgent at the current time. A Quidditch match had just been cancelled, and everybody knew that it was because of another attack. Sure, that was an emergency, but not one that I was particularly needed for.

My first thoughts revolved around them finding out that I could alter my physical appearance at will. I didn't know if it required any special classes or even treatments. Hermione hadn't said anything about it, and Matthew definitely hadn't either. I mean, it wasn't like it was a disease. Honestly, I couldn't help what I was.

I followed Professor McGonagall through the many aisles of Hogwarts. She walked hurriedly, but without running. It was easier to follow Professor McGonagall's hurried pace than Matthew's, and I secretly thanked God for it. As we neared two big, dark wooden doors, my memory yanked me back to when I was hospitalised. The memories of being held here as my health got back to normal caused my stomach to turn. Sure, I wasn't in the Hospital Wing for more than a few days, but those were still dark days for me. It reminded me of Malfoy's constant bullying, of how worthless and inadequate he made him feel. Of how stupid I was to give him so much power over me. It made me sick.

The doors opened, and Professor McGonagall turned to looked at me. Her wrinkled face showed just how worried she was. I looked around the room, my attention being caught by Ron's singular ginger hair. Beside him stood Harry, both had a dreadful expression upon their faces.

"I'm so sorry, Miss Granger." I didn't know what McGonagall was sorry for, but everything seemed out of place.

I made my way towards my sister's two best friends, following their lost gaze once I was close enough. Suddenly, the world stopped. My heart got caught in my throat. Time had seemed to stop. Everything was becoming blurry. I tried breathing but oxygen wasn't flowing through my body anymore. My vision kept on becoming blurrier and blurrier, probably because I was crying but I couldn't quite register what I was doing.

The next thing I knew, I was sitting by Hermione's bed; holding her cold hand, crying silently was Ron and Harry stared, trying hard not to crumble as I had. Professor McGonagall said she was just petrified, reassured me that she was going to be okay over and over again, but I wasn't listening to a word she said. My eyes were just staring at the non-moving figure of my sister. The elder Professor seemed to have noticed, so she talked to Ron and Harry instead.

I was devastated. This was worse than anything I had ever imagined. My worst fears were coming alive, they were becoming real. This was something I wasn't prepared for. There was absolutely nothing I could do about this except…

I abruptly stood up, angry tears still showering down my face but I honestly didn't care. If Hermione and her friends were right and Draco bloody Malfoy was this so-called heir of Slytherin, he was going to listen to me. I was done hiding from the likes of that dumb brute; I was getting some answers and I was getting them right now. No one messed with my sister. No one.

I felt eyes on me as I ran out of the Hospital Wing. It killed me slightly that I was momentarily and willing leaving my sister behind, but I had to get to Malfoy before anything else happened. Besides, she was in good hands. Harry and Ron wouldn't leave her alone, and I knew Professor McGonagall and Madame Pomfrey would attend to her in a way that I couldn't. I was going back once I was done with the stupid Malfoy git.

I did my best to get to the Dungeons as fast as my feet allowed me. I was still fairly small, only around 4'7, therefore my legs were short and weren't able to cover a lot of surface area. But still, I was somewhat of an active girl. The type of girl that would have no problem with sports. I was already one of the best flyers in my flying lessons, because most of the girls were too scared of heights, but also because I was just good at sports. So, even if my legs were short, I was running pretty damn fast.

In no time, I was already in the all too familiar eeriness of the Dungeons. I remember the first days of being a Slytherin, and how the Dungeons used to give me the creeps. But now, it was different. It actually felt like home, in a rather wicked and weird sense. I guess it could be a cozy place if you got used to the darkness and the cold.

As soon as I crossed the portrait hall into the Slytherin common room, I ran into someone. Because I was particularly angry, and naturally the ever-impulsive younger Granger, I snapped at the owner of the body I had ran into.

"Watch where you're going, will you!?" I said rolling my eyes and pushing past him or her, I didn't know. It probably didn't sound as threatening as I had intended, though. Nothing sounded threatening when a first year muggle-born Slytherin said it, to my bad luck.

"That's no way to talk to your superiors, mudblood." the person voiced, venom purring out from each syllable. I didn't have to turn around to know who it was.

"You're a coward." I said dangerously calm, turning slowly to face the bloody idiot. I could feel my blood boiling the moment my eyes met his. Words were not enough to describe how deeply I hated his guts. I felt every bone in my body screaming to hurt him; hurt him until he begged me to not to, just like he had once done with me. He didn't deserve anything.

Malfoy's eyes went from dangerously angry to widely surprised and slightly scared. "What are you, freak?!" he asked, his tone full of alarm. His two watchdogs backed away, their eyes as fearful as Malfoy's.

I suddenly felt someone's hand on my shoulder, squeezing gently but firmly. My anger didn't disappear, but I allowed myself to relax. I took in a big breath and exhaled, counting to ten as I did so. It was calming technique my mother had taught me when I was younger. It usually kept the odd physical alterations at bay, allowing me to control them.

"He petrified her, Matthew." I said, still not completely calm but relaxed enough to not launch at Malfoy and hurt him on mere impulse.

"I think you're jumping to conclusions here. Come on, we need to talk." Matthew whispered. "You'll draw attention like this, let's go," his whisper turned more into a warning when he saw that I wasn't moving.

I sighed and turned harshly away from Malfoy and deeper into the common room, that was now becoming more and more crowded. Matthew didn't follow me immediately. He stayed behind, to do what, I did not care. He probably gave Malfoy some sort of warning. I kept on moving until I found a secluded corner of the room. It was near the fireplace, and right in front of a big window that gave view into the depths of the lake. A green-ish glow came from that very same window, if only because of the Great Lake. I sat there, staring into the vastness of the lake. I wasn't looking at anything in particular. I was just staring.

Matthew joined me a few minutes later. As he sat, he rubbed his temples and sighed.

"I don't want a lecture." I said, still looking at The Great Lake through the window.

"You don't understand. Malfoy's not the heir, Corinne. I know he keeps on saying he wishes he was, but he's not."

"But Hermione said-"

"She was wrong, okay?" he sounded annoyed.

"But-"

"She jumped to conclusions without solid evidence. Go on; ask her friends if you don't believe me. Draco's not behind the attacks," he sighed, again. He was doing a lot of sighing lately. I turned to look at him for the first time since he sat down with me. I suspect he wasn't expecting me to turn to look at him at all because his whole face was imprinted with worry. "That's not important, anyway."

"My sister's petrified, how is that not important!" I snapped. Matthew rolled his eyes, irritated for some reason I couldn't comprehend.

"She'll be fine! Could you stop worrying about Hermione for a second and worry more about not shouting out to the world that you're a metamorphmagus! What happened back there with Malfoy's bad, Corinne, you hear me?" his voice was above a mere whisper, but he was still trying really hard not to scream at me.

"What's the big deal about that? I don't get it, Matthew, you magical people should be used to that!"

"Salazar, Corinne, stop acting like a bloody child!" he was now screaming, drawing attention to our little discussion. But of course what he had said made no sense whatsoever. I was a child. I was 11, for God's sake.

Matthew sent deadly looks to those few who stared intently at us. One particular pair of grey eyes was part of that group. Malfoy's eyes were poised on me, as if he was trying to remember something. It gave me chills, and made me decide to just go and lock myself in my room for the rest of the afternoon.

AUTHOR NOTE

That was a long chapter… sorry about that! Hopefully the length doesn't bother some of you. Sorry for taking so long, I was struggling with the content in this one. ANYWAY, hope it is of your liking!

-Tanz