After quickly grabbing my bag, Hermione and I made our way to the Great Hall for breakfast. There wasn't as much food as the beginning of term feast, but there was a lot more than I ever see at my house. Sausage, bacon, eggs, grits, oatmeal, toast - the list goes on.

I grabbed some toast and bacon and eggs and made a sandwich. Hermione looked at me, her nose wrinkled in disgust. I smirked before taking a bite of my masterpiece.

"Whas thur ta drenk?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I won't answer until you swallow your food and ask me again."

I swallowed my food and took another bite. "Whas thur ta drenk?"

"Honestly!" she snapped. "Don't they teach you manners in America?"

I shrugged as I swallowed. "What are manners?"

She sighed in exasperation. She shook her head as she opened a note with our schedule.

"We have Defense Against the Dark Arts at nine o'clock and Double Potions at ten. Herbology is at twelve and then we have-"

I stopped listening when I realized she was just going to repeat the schedule to me for a fifth time since I met her in the common room. I decided to look around the Great Hall for something interesting. Seamus was trying to turn his water into rum. I was about to turn my attention to something else before his cup exploded in his face.

Hermione jumped in the middle of talking about flying lessons on Thursday afternoon. "Good Lord!" she said under her breath as she fanned away the smell of Seamus' singed hair.

I noticed some Slytherins behind Seamus, laughing. One of them was Char. She was laughing, but it looked a little forced to me. Maybe I was just imagining things. Surly she finds it funny like her Slytherin buddies. The thought began to grate my nerves. I threw the last bite of my sandwich down and turned to Hermione.

"I'm ready," I said. My voice cracked a little. She glanced at Char for a split second, then back at me. She didn't say anything, but nodded in understanding. I was grateful for this.

We walked to the Defense Against the Dark Arts and waited outside for the first class to finish. Hermione didn't say anything about Char, just about what she expects and hopes to learn in today's lesson.

"Perhaps we'll learn how to ward off hinkypunks," she suggested. "D'you think?"

I shrugged. I hadn't the faintest idea what a - hanky panky? - was.

"Maybe we'll learn about sparkling vampires," I chuckled, thinking of Char's apple book.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Don't be ridiculous."

Finally, class was over and students came pouring out of the doorway. The Weasley twins came out a few minutes after the whole room had cleared out.

"Oh, hey!" said Fred. I decided the first to speak is always Fred.

"Ickle firsties!" said George. "D.A.D.A's your first class?"

We nodded.

"Well, heads up for you two," said Fred.

"The first row is rigged with a farting charm," said George.

"A… farting charm?" I asked, curious.

"Yes," said Fred. "The know-it-all's always sit in front-"

"-no offense, Hermione," George added quickly.

Hermione scowled, but Fred continued.

"-and every time they raise their hand-"

"-there will be a farting sound to follow-"

"-and the whole class will be focused on them!"

The twins laughed with pride. I was grinning.

"That's brilliant!" I exclaimed.

"It's barbaric!" Hermione interjected. "You have to unjinx the chairs, or… or…"

"You'll tell McGonagall?" asked Fred.

"Once the class is over, everyone will have known it was us."

"We'll lose House Points for that!" Hermione shrieked.

"Oh, you worry too much, Hermione!"

The twins shook their head in disappointment at her, then shrugged it off.

"See you later, girls!" they said in unison, then raced off to their next class.

"Are you really going to tell on them?" I asked as we took our seats, carefully avoiding anywhere near the first row.

"I should," she said angrily as she took out her copy of The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection. "But, no. I won't."

I pulled out my copy as well.

"G-good m-m-morning, f-f-first years."

I looked up. It was a thin man in a turban. I assumed he was our teacher. "'morning," I muttered.

Hermione nudged me before saying, "Good morning, Professor! What lesson have you in store for us today?"

I rolled my eyes. I can't believe I agreed to let her be my mentor.

"I-it's s-s-so exc-citing to h-have st-students keen to l-l-learn," he said, grinning.

I sighed. This fumbling mess was supposed to teach us our to protect ourselves? This was going to be a long lesson…

Defense Against the Dark Arts wasn't so bad. It did make things more bearable when half the Ravenclaws had farting sounds coming from their direction. Hermione resisted raising her hand all through the class, nervous that all the seats were jinxed. I could tell it was killing her to not answer questions. But when class ended, I was more than happy to go to Potions. Even if it was going to last about two hours.

"Who do we have Potions with, again?" I asked Hermione.

She hesitated before answering, "Slytherins..."

I slowed my pace. Char was going to be there. With her friends. Her bratty, rotten… evil friends. I suddenly yearned to listen to Professor Quirrell stutter nonsense for a bit longer…

Hopefully the twins haven't rigger this class with anything. Hermione and I decided to take the middle seats. They seemed to sound the safest. Maybe. Harry and Ron were in the same row of seats as us. As we were about to greet them, a door flew open and a dark figure stomped to the front of the class.

"That's Professor Snape," Hermione said as we took out our copies of Magical Drafts and Potions andcauldrons. "He's the head of Slytherin. He favors them, I've heard."

All I heard is: He favors Char and her group of morons. I groaned, resisting the urge to look for them all.

Snape told us we wouldn't use wands or spells in the class and that he could teach us to blah, blah, blah… Pretty much we had a cooking class, I guess. Though, it smelled horrible in the room.

At one point, someone's cauldron melted and their potion started to spread all over the floor. Students climbed on their seats to avoid the dangerous liquid. Before it reached mine and Hermione's stool, it disappeared at the wave of Snape's wand.

"That's was so cool, Professor," I mumbled.

"Five points from Gryffindor for speaking out of turn," Snape mumbled back, but there was a split second that he was pleased with what I said.

But… five points? Come on.

"You're joking…"

"Ten points!"

"I was complimenting your-"

"Fifteen! And detention on Saturday!"

The Gryffindors were groaning by now and I was about to say something else, but Hermione clapped her hand over my mouth. I was thankful immediately.

The rest of the Gryffidors lost points, which helped my guilt fade away some, but then I remembered that I still had detention the following weekend.

The Slytherins, though, were praised for their "skilled way" of "crushing snake fangs" or "stewing horned slugs". It was ridiculous how much he favored them. Really.

"Look at how Miss Ackles concoction is a perfect shade of emerald green," he said to the class, who practically ignored him.

I did glance in their direction, though. A green cloud puffed out of Char's cauldron, before I could see her face. Most likely she was grinning from all the attention she was getting and the fact that Gryffindor was down about forty-two points by now.

I was relieved for Potions to end. And, of course, the relief was ruined by Snape shoving a piece of paper in my hand on my way out of the door. I opened it up. It was about my detention. I had to sort out potion ingredients in Snape's cabinets. Alphabetically…

All week, Hermione never let me forget that I'd gotten detention on my first day. Which made my first week so stressful and aweful. Saturday was closer and closer and closer… It was Thursday, though. It did cheer me up that we were going to learn to fly our brooms today.

The week seemed like a blur, but Thursday seemed to last forever. I couldn't wait to fly. Actually fly! I almost couldn't believe it. I felt like the whole class was a prank to first years. Or muggleborns, at least.

Finally, though, it was time. Hermione and I arrived on the grounds with the other Gryffindors. The other house was already there, waiting. My good mood was brought to a hault when I realized they were Slytherins.

"Perfect," I groaned.

"You should just talk to her," suggested Hermione. She seemed to be fed up with keeping quiet about my attitude towards Char. "She might not be as awful as you think her to be."

"She's a Slytherin," I snapped. "They're awful!"

Hermione thought about it. "I agree," she finally said. "In general, yes. Slytherins are horrible, but that doesn't necessarily mean they all are."

I nodded. I knew this since Char was sorted. It just seemed too hard to believe. Before I could walk to Char, a woman with white hair - Madam Hooch - came out and told us to take a placed beside a broom.

We were supposed to shout "up" at our brooms. I felt ridiculous, but I did as I was told. My broom just bounced around for a bit. Slowly, but surly, it started to rise to my hand.

"Good try, good try," Madam Hooch told me. "You'll get better."

I found it hard to believe. It was almost as if the broom was resisting to be anywhere near me. I decided I was going to hate the broom. It's not like I did anything horrible to it. I scoffed at it as I threw it back down to try again. It rised slowly again. Slower even, as if it was resisting me even more. Stupid broom.

We were told to mount our brooms. I remembered doing it as a kid with absolute no shame when it was just pretend. Now it was real and I felt like a fool. Funny how that works, isn't it?

I mounted it though. And I did as she said, kicking the ground. The broom did nothing. I kicked again. Nothing. I kicked again, harder. The broom threw me off of it and flew off on the other side of the school grounds.

The Slytherin's were all lauging and smirking at me. Char seemed to not noticed until a girl nudged her arm. Char then looked at me and began laughing, but it wasn't the same as the Slytherin's… Her seemed softer. Friendlier. I was probably just delusional from the concussion that stupid broom gave me.

Ron landed from his broom and helped me up and brushed grass off of my robes.

"Thanks," I mumbled to him. "Sorry about your broom, Professor. I swear it hates me."

"Not to worry, dear," she chuckled. "I'll just inform Hagrid that there's a rogue broom on the loose."

Suddenly there was a yell. We all turned to it. It was Neville, his broom had gone higher than it was supposed to and brought him about forty feet in the air and through him off as well. Madam Hooch rushed him off to the hospital wing.

Hermione ran over to me. "Now's your chance," she said. "Go talk to her."

I made my way to Char, who was surrounded by her friends. I'd finally seen them. They were hideous. One had a face that looked permanently disgusted at everything under the sun and the other one was big and buff… almost a man, even. Then there was Char that was pretty and small and didn't fit in with them at all.

"Oh, look who came to join us," the disgusted one said. "What brings you to us, filth?"

"I just wanted to talk to Ch-"

"You want to talk to Charmeleon?" she asked, patronizing me. "You hear that, Millie?"

"She thinks Charmeleon would talk to someone with corrupted blood," said the one called Millie. "I think not. Right, Charmeleon?"

Char was slow to respond, but finally she nodded. "No one wants to hang around someone with a lousy Gryffindor," she snarled. "Much less someone with stupid muggles for parents."

There was a sharp ripping sound… no. A piercing crash like glass breaking… no. Nothing could describe this sound. Nothing could describe the very moment of my whole being shattering into a million pieces.

Tears began filling my eyes… out of my control.

"She's going to cry!" said Millie, laughing even harder.

I felt a hands on my shoulders turn me around and walk me away. It was Bridget, the quiet, kind soul that she was. She said nothing and it was exactly what I needed.

I didn't talk much during dinner that evening. I mainly listened to the others griping about Harry and Draco flying after Madam Hooch warned them not to.

"They were both complete idiots!" Hermione snapped. "Harry's definitely going to be expelled. Malfoy as well, I assume."

"No way!" Ron snapped back. "Once Harry explains that Malfoy was making an ass of himself, Harry will be in the clear."

"Think what you want, Ronald," said Hermione. "Harry will be boarding the train in the morning if he's lucky enough to stay one more night here."

"Rubbish," Ron mumbled. "Utter rubbish."

At least you had a proper friend all week, I thought. At least they didn't break you.

I quietly left the Great Hall and headed to the dormitories. To make my day complete, someone threw a squeaky rubber duck at my head. I lost my balance and fell to the floor. An annoying cackle proceeded. I rolled over onto my back to see a small ghost holding more toys. I wondered where he got them all. I wondered who he was. He threw toy train at me, but luckily I rolled away in time.

"Who are you!" I demanded.

He cackled again. "I'm Peeves, I'm Peeves. I'm the Peeves, the pol-ter-geist. I run these grounds and kid around, I'm Peeeeeeeeeves, the pol-ter-geist!"he sang merrily, as he threw more toys at me. I dodged all except a dodge ball. Go figure.

"Well, leave me alone, Peeves," I snapped. "I'm in no mood to deal with you."

He threw a yo-yo at me and cackled once more before floating off. I picked up the rubber duck and a sock monkey and stuffed them in my robes. I figured Stray might like one or the other or both. Once I go to my dorm, I changed into my pajamas and plopped on my bed, snuggling up to Stray. I began crying again. I barely knew Char, but for the couple of hours that I did… it was like we were the only ones. Like we could take on the world as long as we stood by each other's side. That was over, though. My whole year was going to feel like nothing now. Char was exactly how I expected her to be… and yet the complete opposite.

Funny how that works, isn't it?