Okay, and here's chapter 3, as promised! Let's tune into Vanissa's life, shall we? Good, good. :)

Disclaimer: Although it's bluntly obvious, I must say that I do not own anything about Harry Potter except for my own character, her backstory, and any added scenes or lines. Thank you!

~GharrahGirl

10 YEARS LATER
VANISSA

Malfoy Manor, a large estate to be sure. In the second story window to the left, you will see drawn black curtains. On the other side of those curtains lies a dim room clearly belonging to a girl. The room shows clearly the wealth of the family. A wardrobe lies near the window, and a large bed lies in the middle of the room, a grey canopy shielding the sleeping occupant from view. A desk lies in the far left corner, and books stack high around it. Even more lie on the multiple bookshelves that cover the walls of the room. The room is neat, far neater than you'd expect for a small girl.

The girl in question is eleven year old Vanissa Bell LeStrange. Beyond the canopy we see the girl sleeping. Even in the dim lighting, you can tell her skin is pale. Her hair is black and a mass of wild curls. Her eyes, though shut at the moment, are very dark, surrounded by thick eyelashes. Her face is thin, her cheekbones high. If you were to gaze at a childhood picture of Bellatrix LeStrange, you'd swear you were seeing double. The child, though so young, doesn't like crowds. She prefers her home, her room, where judging eyes and cold stares are no longer pointed at her. Wherever she goes, she faces judgement for her mother's wicked deeds.

The girl, sleeping soundly, is not in peace. Behind her eyes, she sees a cold stare and a face hidden under the darkness of the hood of a cloak. The face, though she doesn't know it, of a killer. She wakes with a start, sitting up as dark eyes filled with terror flit around the bed. She cautiously opens her canopy, looking out into the dim lighting of the room. She gets out of bed slowly and walks to the window, opening the curtains to cast light into the white and grey room.

She pads around her room before dressing for the day and walking downstairs into the kitchen where the Malfoy family is having breakfast. They are all silent, as is usual in the presence of the adults, who have little patience for ruckus.

Lucius Malfoy, the father, works in the Ministry of magic. He is a tall, thin man. He has the same pale skin as Vanissa, though he is of no blood relation to her. He has a pointed face with cold, gray eyes. There is never a smile on his face. His hair is long and pale blonde.

Narcissa Malfoy is the mother of Draco, their only child. Her surname is Black, and she is the sister of Vanissa's mother. She is a thin woman with blonde hair and blue eyes. Her skin, too, is pale. She is the more parental parent, fiercely protective of Draco and Vanissa.

Then, there's Draco. He, like Vanissa, is eleven years old. He shares his father's cold grey eyes, though they are much softer when he's with Vanissa. They have grown up together as friends and siblings. He has the same pale, pointed face and pale blonde hair as his father.

Vanissa herself often feels out of place with this family. They all look down on muggle-borns, calling them scum and mudbloods. Vanissa, herself, even though she was brought up in a home as such feels the attitude is unjust. She never says so, though, for fear that they will not approve of her, be disappointed in her. Like Draco, she finds herself wanting praise from Lucius or Narcissa, and like Draco, she doesn't often get it.

She stands silently behind her chair, waiting patiently for one of them to notice. Lucius is the first to notice her. He watches her, setting down his silverware and looking at her expectantly.
"Yes?"

"Uncle Lucius, I was wondering if... If our Hogwarts letters have come, yet."

He looks at Narcissa, and Vanissa does the same. Narcissa gives her a rare soft smile and hands it to her.

"They arrived a week ago. We've been waiting to tell you. We'll be shopping for your things before the train leaves at eleven."

Vanissa glances at a nearby clock to see that it is seven. She nods and sits down, waiting for her family silently. She doesn't wait long, as Draco, in his excitement, eats quickly. Lucius looks between the two anxious and squirming eleven year olds before standing. They all leave shortly via the floo network.

They makes quick work of getting money from Gringotts and buying the school supplies. The remaining time between the shopping and heading for the platform is marred by Draco's constant whining over not getting a broomstick. First year's aren't allowed. When they're ready to depart on the train, Narcissa sees them off as Lucius begins leaving.
They both enter the train, and Malfoy quickly sits with two friends he's had; Vincent Crabb and Gregory Goyle. Vanissa, though invited, respectfully denies the request. She doesn't like the way Malfoy is when he's around those two. He's a bully.
FIRST PERSON POV
VANISSA

I walk on down the train, looking into the full compartments as I pass. When I finally come to a slightly empty corridor, I stop outside it, quietly clearing my throat to gain the attention of the two boys surrounded by sweets within. They are both clearly my age.

One is a thin boy just an inch or two taller than her. He has rather messy black hair. He has brilliant green eyes that are partially hidden behind a pair of round glasses held together with scotch tape.

The other is tall, thin, and gangling. He has freckles, big hands and feet, and a long nose. He has flaming red hair and blue eyes.

"Um, hello. I was hoping you wouldn't mind my company. Everywhre else is full."

The green-eyed boy smiles in greeting.

"Not at all."

I smile slightly and move quite a few pumpkin pasties to sit down beside the black haired boy. The one with orange hair is watching me silently, clearly trying to place who I am. I hope he doesn't. I don't like people recognizing me. It never ends well for me.

"I'm Harry, by the way. Harry Potter."

I glance at him in slight surprise and catch a glimpse at the scar on his forehead. I quickly look back in his eyes and smile, not wanting to be rude by gawking unceremoniously at his scar. I'm sure he's had a lot of that, and I'm sure he doesn't like it. I wouldn't.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Harry. I'm Vanissa. And you?"

"Ron Weasley," he says around a chocolate frog.

I grimace slightly before smiling in greeting.

"So, what house do you think you'll be in, Harry?"

"I'm not sure. I don't really know the houses, actually."

"That's just fine. Ron, do you suspect you'll be in Gryffindor like the rest of your family?"

He looks slightly surprised but shrugs.

"How do you know my family?"

"My uncle talks about you guys a lot."

"Who's your uncle?"

"Ah, so this is where you went off to, Vanissa."

I look up and see Malfoy come in with Vincent and Gregory on either side of him like bodyguards. He looks at Harry.

"Is it true? They're saying all down the train that Harry Potter's in this compartment. So it's you, is it?"

"Yes," he says, looking at Vincent and Gregory.

"Oh," Draco says, seeming to have noticed, "This is Crabbe and Goyle. And my name's Malfoy. Draco Malfoy."

I hear Ron cough slightly to hide a snigger. Uh-oh. Malfoy turns to him, glaring.

"Think my name's funny, do you? No need to ask yours. My father told Vanissa and me all the Weasley's have red hair, freckles, and more children than they can afford."

Ron glances at me, and I feel my cheeks heat up. I look away as Malfoy turns back to Harry.

"You'll soon find out that some wizarding families are better than others, Potter. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there," he says, holding out his hand for Harry to take.
Harry glances at it before looking back up at him.
"I think I can tel the who the wrong sort are for myself, thanks."
A pink tinge appears on Draco's cheeks, and he hides his embarrassment behind anger.
"I'd be careful if I were you, Potter. Unless you're a bit more polite, you'll go the same way as your parents. They didn't know what was good for them, either. You hang around with riffraff like the Weasleys and that Hagrid, and it'll rub off on you."

Ron and Harry stand up.

"Say that again," Ron says, his face turning the same shade as his hair.

"Oh, you're going to fight us, are you," Draco sneers.

"Unless you get out," Harry says.

"But we don't feel like leaving, do we, boys? We've eaten all our food and you still seem to have some."

I stand at this point, standing between Draco and Harry. I look at Draco.

"Draco, leave them alone. They weren't bothering you. And there was no need to say that stuff about them."

He glares at me.

"That's rich coming from you, Vanissa. After all, look at who your mum is."
My eyes burn.

"That's low, Draco. That's really low."

"So's sticking up for Potter against your own cousin."

"I'm not sticking up for anybody! I'm trying to help you, Draco. It's easier to be nice than make enemies before school even starts."

"Right, just like it's easier to be a pushover and cry over every insult you get."

"Not every. Just the ones that actually hurt. Just come on. We'll leave. All of us."

"What, tire of Potter already?"

"No, it's not that. I just want you to stop th-"

I break off as Gregory lets out a horrible yell. I see a rather old looking rat hanging off of his finger, teeth sunk deep into Gregory's knuckle. Draco and Vincent back out of the compartment, and I back toward the window as Gregory starts swinging the rat around and around, howling. When the rat finally flies off, it slams into the window, and Draco, Gregory, and Vincent all leave. I look at the rat as it slides down the window and onto the floor. Ron bends to pick it up by the tail, and a girl appears in the doorway.
She has a lot of bushy brown hair and brown eyes. She seem a bit like a know-it-all as well as someone who pines after praise.

"What has been going on?"

She looks at all the sweets over the floor before looking at Ron.

"I think he's been knocked out?" Ron says to Harry before looking closer at him, "No... I don't believe it! He's gone back to sleep!"

"And you are?"

I look over to see her looking at me. Her eyes scrunch up, and I can tell she's trying to place my face.

"Vanissa."

I look back at Harry.

"You've met Draco before?"

Harry nods and quickly explains his meeting Draco in Madam Malkins.

"I've heard of his family," Ron says darkly, "They were some of the first to come back to our side after You-Know-Who disappeared. Said they'd been bewitched. My dad doesn't believe it. He says Malfoy's father didn't need an excuse to go over to the Dark Side."

He glances at me before looking at the girl.

"Can we help you with something?"

"You'd better change into your robes. I've been to the front to ask the conductor, and he says we're nearly there. You haven't been fighting, have you? You'll be in trouble before we even get there!"

"Scabbers has been fighting, not us," Ron says, scowling, "Would you mind leaving while we change?"

"Alright... I only came in here because people outside are behaving very childishly, racing up and down the corridors. And you've got dirt on your nose, by the way, did you know?"

I follow her out as she leaves, setting a hand on her shoulder. She seemed a bit upset by Ron's tone. It's clear that she doesn't necessarily make friends too well and takes things to heart. She reminds me strikingly of me in that category.

"Um, you never told me your name," I say with a slight smile as she turns to face me.

She smiles widely.

"I'm Hermione Granger. You look familiar. Have we met before?"

"Um, not that I recall. I get that a lot, though."

"Are you sure? I swear I've seen your face before."

"Then, I'm sure you'll know who I am at the sorting ceremony. Everyone will."

She frowns slightly at my tone.

"Is that a bad thing? That everyone will know who you are?"

"For me, it is. My, uh, mother... She wasn't the best woman. Everyone knows her, and everyone thinks I'm just like her. They all think that before they even get to know me. I'll be better off in Slytherin, like my mother and the rest of her family. They're the only ones who won't care. They're the nasty ones, the ones who like people like my mother."

"Who is your mother?"

"I suppose you'll find out eventually. Her name is Bellatrix LeStrange. She's in Azkaban for torturing a family to insanity with the Cruciatus Curse."

Hermione's eyes widen slightly.

"That's where I know you from! I've read a book about Voldemort's reign. It had a lot of pages with pictures of his known followers. It never said she had a daughter, though."

"She, uh, left me when I was a year old. She handed me off to her sister so she could be with You-Know-Who. I never knew her. She was arrested a few months after You-Know-Who was stopped."

"You don't... What is your opinion on muggleborns?"

"I think that anyone who possesses magic has the right to study it, no matter their heritage."

"Then, you're nothing like you mother. If you'd like, I'll be your friend. I won't judge you."

I smile slightly and take her offered hand.

"I'd like that. Thank you."

"We'd better get going, I think the train's stopped."

We head out of the train, leaving our luggage as the conductor requested. When we step out, I look around silently, smiling at the castle in the distance.

"Firs' years! Firs' years over here!"

I turn and tap her shoulder, pointing out a giant of a man. He's easily twice as tall as a normal man and nearly five times as wide. He has long tangles of bushy black hair and beard that hides most of his face. Only his eyes, which glint like black beetles, show. His hands are like trash can lids, and his feet like baby dolphins in the leather boots he wears. He's standing near the docks holding a lantern. Hermione and I approach like the rest of the first years.

"C'mon, follow me! Any more firs' years? Mind yer step, now! Firs' years follow me!"

We all follow the giant down a steep, narrow path. It's rather dark. Dark trees surround each side fo the path, blocking nearly all light. Everyone is pretty quiet. Hermione and I glance at each other.

"Yeh'll get yer firs' sight o' Hogwarts in a sec," the man says after a bit, "jus' round the ben here."

Hermione and I round it, and both of our jaws drop slightly. The path opens up in front of us onto the edge of a great black lake. In the distance, I can see a vast castle with many turrets and towers perched on a high mountain. It's windows sparkle in the starry sky. It's beautiful.

"No more'n four to a boat!"

The giant points to a fleet of little boats sitting in the water by the shore. Hermione and I climb into a boat with Ron and Harry. I watch as everyone gets into groups of four into the boats. The giant has a boat to himself.

"Everyone in? Right then... FORWARD!"

The fleet all move off as one, gliding silently across the lake, which is smooth as glass. We're all silent, looking up at the approaching castle.

"Head's down!"

We all bend our heads as the boats carry us through a curtain of ivy that hides a wide opening in the cliff face. We're carried along a dark tunnel which seemed to be taking them right underneath the castle, until they reach a kind of underground harbor. The boats stop, and we all clamber out onto the rocks and pebbles. Hermione and I start forward with the others, but everyone stops as the man shouts out.

"Oy, you there! Is this your toad?"

"Trevor!" cries a short and plump round-faced blonde boy, holding out his hands.

The giant hands him the toad, and we all clamber up a passageway in the rock, following the giant's lamp. The passageway comes out onto smooth, damp grass in the shadow of the castle. Without stopping, we walk up a flight of stone steps and crowd around the huge oak front door. The giant turns and looks over the crowd eleven year olds.

"Everyone here? You there, still got yer toad?"

Once seemingly satisfied and sure that we are all here, the man raises a gigantic fist and knocks three times on the castle door. The door swings open instantly, a witch standing in the doorway. She is tall with black hair pulled back into a bun and beady eyes slightly hidden behind a pair of square glasses. She's wearing emerald-green robes. Her face is stern. She clearly has little patience for trouble. Note to self, do not make this lady mad.

"Firs' years, Professor McGonagall," the giant says, looking us all over.

"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here."

Ah, so that's the giant's name. Hagrid, huh? Suits him. My attention is brought back to the present as Hermione elbows me in the side. I glance at her before looking in front of me like everyone else is. She has opened the door wide, exposing the very large entrance hall. The stone walls are lit with flaming torches, and the ceiling is too high to really make out what it looks like. A magnificent marble staircase facing us leads to upper floors.

As McGonagall begins to walk on, we all follow. The floor beneath us, I dimly note, is flagged stone. I can hear hundreds of voices coming from a doorway to the right. It's the upper years. It has to be. However, instead of heading into the room, McGonagall leads us into a small, empty chamber off the hall. We all crowd in, standing a bit too close for my comfort. Everyone peers around nervously. My stomach is alight with butterflies and twisting with nerves.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," McGonagall says, catching my attention, "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend free time in your house common room."

Ah, there it is, the separating of everyone into where they fit best.

"The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn you points, while any rule-breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year the house with the most points is awarded the house cup, a great honor. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours. The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting."

Her eyes linger on the blonde boy's robes before her eyes turn to me. I can see a mixture of uncertainty and pity in her eyes. I see Harry trying to flatten his hair out of the corner of my eye. I smile slightly. Judging by it's appearance, it's not possible.

"I shall return when we are ready for you," McGonagall says, catching my attention once more, "Please wait quietly."

She leaves, and my nerves double. I look at Hermione.

"Hermione, I already know where I'm going, and I know you won't be there."

"It's impossible to know where you'll be sorted. Besides, I hear it's a sort of test. I know a lot of spells, but I'm not sure what I'll need to use. There's plenty of-"

She breaks off as several people behind us start screaming. I gape slightly as about twenty pearly white and slightly transparent ghosts stream through the back wall. They glide across the room talking to one another and hardly glancing at us. Two seem to be arguing. One that looks like a fat monk is talking about forgiveness and giving someone a second chance.

"My dear Friar," says another, "haven't we given Peeves all the chances he deserves? He gives us all a bad name and you know, he's not really a ghost... I say, what are you all doing here?"

The one speaking, seemingly to have just noticed us, is wearing a ruff and tights. I hide a giggle. Man in tights... Still... Ghost... I, like everyone else, stay silent.

"New students," the Fat Friar, says, smiling at us all, "About to be Sorted, I suppose?"

I glance around as a few nod. Everyone is still silent.

"Hope to see you in Hufflepuff!" the Friar says excitedly, "My old house, you know."

"Move along now," a sharp voice says suddenly, making me jump slightly as I turn to see McGonagall has returned, "The Sorting Ceremony's about to start."
I watch silently as the ghosts float away through the opposite wall one by one.

"Now, form a line and follow me."

I step into line in front of a boy with sandy hair, Hermione in front of me. I grimace as my stomach tightens in fear. I don't want anyone to know me. The adults all do anyway because of my face. Students know the name. Only Slytherin won't care. I'm resigned to that house. I take a shaky breath as we walk out of the chamber, back across the hall, and through a pair of double doors into the Great Hall.

I feel my jaw drop slightly, my eyes roaming over everything in awe. The inside is even more brilliant than the outside. It is lit by thousands and thousands of candles that are floating in mid-air over four long tables. The rest of the students are all sitting, watching us as we walk past. The tables are laid with glittering golden plates and goblets. At the top of the hall is another long table where adults that must be the different teachers are sitting. I recognize Severus among them.

Professor McGonagall leads us up to the table, where we come to a halt in a line facing the other students and the teachers behind us. Hundreds of faces are staring at us, and it makes me very nervous. I hate people staring at me. They're usually not friendly stares. Among the students, the ghosts are scattered here and there, shining misty silver. I glance down to calm my nerves before looking up when I hear Hermione whispering.

"It's bewitched to look like the sky outside. I read about it in Hogwarts, A History."

I glance up at the ceiling... which isn't there. In it's place is velvety black dotted with stars. It's beautiful. I look back down as I hear McGonagall approach. She sets down a four-legged stool in front of us. On top of it, she puts a pointed wizard's hat. I grimace slightly. It's extremely dirty and frayed. I glance around and see everyone staring at it, so I return my eyes to it. For a few seconds, nothing happens. Then, the hat twitches. My eyebrows furrow slightly in confusion as a rip near the brim opens wide like a mouth. Then, to add to my confusion, the hat begins to sing.

"Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,
But don't judge on what you see,
I'll eat myself if you can find
A smarter hat than me.

You can keep your bowlers black,
You top hats sleek and tall,
For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat
And I can cap them all.

There's nothing hidden in your head
The Sorting Hat can't see,
So try me on and I will tell you
Where you ought to be.

You might belong in Gryffindor,
Where dwell the brave at heart,
Their daring, nerve, and chivalry
Set the Gryffindors apart;

You might belong in Hufflepuff,
Where they are just and loyal,
These patient Hufflepuffs are true
and unafraid of toil;

Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,
If you've a ready mind,
Where those of wit and learning,
Will always find their kind;

Or perhaps in Slytherin
You'll make your real friends,
The cunning folk use any means
To achieve their ends.

So put me on! Don't be afraid!
And don't get in a flap!
You're in safe hands (though I have none)
For I'm a Thinking Cap!"

The whole house bursts into applause as the hat finishes, and it bows to each of the four tables before becoming still again. If the school wasn't clapping, I would swear I'd imagined the singing hat. I mean, I'm no novice to seeing magic, but a singing hat? Really? That's how we're sorted? By a hat? I snap out of my thoughts as I see McGonagall stepping forward holding a long roll of parchment.

"When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted," she says, looking at the scroll, "Abbot, Hannah!"

A pink faced girl with blonde pigtails stumbles out of the line, puts on the hat, which falls over her eyes, and sits down. Barely a moment later, the Sorting Hat opens it's mouth.

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

The table on the right cheers and claps as Hannah walks over and sits down at the Hufflepuff table. I smile slightly when I see the Fat Friar waving at her, a merry smile on his face.

"Bones, Susan!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

Susan hurries over and sits next to Hannah.

"Boot, Terry!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

The table second from the left claps this time. Several Ravenclaws even stand up to shake hands with Terry as he goes over.

"Brocklehurst, Mandy!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

"Brown, Lavender!"

"GRYFFINDOR!"

The table on the far left explodes with cheers, and I see a pair of red-headed twins, probably Weasleys, cat-calling. I chuckle slightly.

"Bulstrode, Millicent!"

"SLYTHERIN!"

I look over the clapping students with a slightly lost expression. I don't want to be there. I don't want to end up like my mother. It's inevitable, though, and I know it.

"Finch-Fletchley, Justin!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Finnigan, Seamus!"

"GRYFFINDOR!" the hat shouts after a minute.

I've noticed that each person has been different in the length it takes to sort them. Some are immediate, while some are a bit longer.

"Granger, Hermione!"

I see her eyes widen and give her a slight push with a small smile. She runs up to the stool and jams the hat on her head eagerly. I chuckle slightly at her enthusiasm.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

I hear someone groan and look ar Ron, a bit upset. Rude, much?

"LeStrange, Vanissa!"

I wince as silence fills the hall. I glance around as people step away from me. Harry, though, looks at them questioningly. He doesn't know. Like the muggleborns, he is confused by the reaction.

"LeStrange, Vanissa!" McGonagall calls again, this time impatiently.

I sigh and walk forward, turning to face the students of the hall. Ravenclaws, Hufflepuffs, and Gryffindors alike are all watching me with looks varying from nervous to distrust. I catch sight of Hermione and see her give me a smile of encouragement. I return it with a grateful one and glance at the Slytherins, who all look expectant. I shut my eyes, pulling the over my head.

"Oh, what blood lines you hold," a voice says in my ear, "Two dark pasts, I see. I see courage, but nerves. I see your thirst to prove yourself good. There's talent, oh yes, much talent. Ah, a need to be different, to follow a different path."

Hurry... please! I think, hoping the Hat will just put me in Slytherin already and let it be done.

"Hurry? A tad bit impatience and a temper to match, as well. Well, then, I suppose..."

And there is it, folks! The end of Chapter 3. I know, I know, sorting not finished. Well, I'm saving that for the next chapter. I'm currently thinking about that. I've come to a bit of a block on how to continue this story, but I assure you, it will be solved! I'm thinking that I'll force myself to focus and get this ready by... Let's say... Saturday? Yeah, that'll work. Saturday, it is, then. Alright, until Saturday, my readers! Oh, and next Saturday, not this Saturday, but the 23, is the Day of the Doctor! SO FRICKIN EXCITED, MAN! Anywho, sorry about that, serious Whovian here. Alright, now I'm done writing in this chapter, lol.

~GharrahGirl