I walked down to breakfast the next morning with Hermione, Harry, and Ron. We took our seats at the long Gryffindor table, where we were greeted with good mornings. By the time I had arrived at Hogwarts, classes had been going on for almost a month, but Hermione had assured me I could catch up and that I would have no trouble making friends. And sure enough, everyone made a point to say hello to me, and I was pleased they all took the time to make me feel welcome. Students from other Houses wandered over out of curiosity, as I was the first transfer student to ever come to Hogwarts. After talking to students from both Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff, I could see where the traits of each respective House were present in the students. Ravenclaws were witty, and the Hufflepuffs were incredibly kind. No Slytherin came to introduce themselves, but the entire table kept glancing in my direction and muttering things that I'm sure weren't complimentary.

"They're probably guessing your fucking blood status," Ginny said with a huff, as she settled herself next to me. "That's just about all that matters to them."

I shook my head. I had known people at Beauxbatons like that too.

"Well, I'm half-blood, so I should be able to stay out of trouble with them."

Hermione grinned. "I'm Muggleborn, so I have trouble with them all the time. But you should be alright unless they decide to be particularly nasty."

I opened my mouth to reply when movement caught my eye. A group of three boys was entering the Great Hall, two hulking boys and one slim one. The slim one walked slightly ahead of the other two, clearly the leader. He had white blond hair and skin paler than mine, which was an accomplishment. As they drew closer, I inhaled sharply. The blond had gray eyes. The gray eyes. I started to ask who he was when Ron made a noise of disgust and glared in his direction.

"That fucking git walking in here like he owns the place. Where the hell has he been all morning, breakfast is almost over." The boy strutted towards the Slytherin table followed by the other two. They took their seats, and I felt a vague satisfaction at having guessed his House after just a few seconds of contact. I saw a Slytherin girl next to the blond nodding in my direction, and almost immediately he turned towards our table. Our eyes met for a second time, and again I felt like I was being sized up. I stared coldly back at him, and he stood and walked towards us. Harry swore under his breath.

"What the fuck is Malfoy doing coming over here?" Ron cast a nervous glance in my direction.

"I dunno, mate, but I have a feeling he's the new welcoming committee."

And sure enough, the boy — Malfoy —, strutting up to the Gryffindor table, fixed his eyes on me again.

"Hello there," he drawled. "We've not had the….pleasure….of meeting."

The harsh stare he gave me was a guarantee that pleasure was the last thing to be had from him talking to me.

"Come on, Malfoy, get stuffed," Hermione said impatiently. "Don't start trouble for her on her first day."

Malfoy slowly turned towards her. His eyes bored into her, but she stared back as I had done. I could tell there was history between this group.

"I'm sorry, Mudblood, but did it fucking sound like I was talking to you?"

Hermione flushed indignantly and I felt a rush of anger in defense of my new friend.

"Don't talk to her like that," I said furiously. He raised his eyebrows at me.

"I don't think you want to be starting your time here at Hogwarts on that note. What, are you a Mudblood too?"

He said it disdainfully, clearly believing that was the worst possible thing I could be.

"No, I'm not Muggleborn. But even if I was, it'd be none of your fucking business."

By this time, many of the Gryffindors had stopped eating and were looking with some degree of concern in our direction. Harry and Ron seemed unsure as to whether or not they should step in, and Hermione and Ginny were looking at me with astonishment. Well, I wasn't in the Merlin-damned House of the brave for nothing. I wasn't about to let some pathetic git talk that way to someone for defending me, and I instinctively knew that to him, this was a test for the new girl. Would I let him walk all over me, or would I stand up to him? I couldn't tell which option he considered passing.

Color rose on his pale cheeks.

"You need to learn to watch your mouth, bitch," he hissed. "I can make you very bloody miserable. You don't want to be here for the next couple of years with me as your enemy."

I just stared at him defiantly. I could tell his temper was rising, and if I could keep calm, it would only make him angrier.

"I don't particularly give a damn if you're my enemy or my friend, and I don't plan on giving any singular person enough power to make me miserable. I'll be nice to those who're nice to me, and those who aren't….I think I can return the favor."

I said all this as evenly as possible. Again, I had guessed things about him correctly, because my refusal to rise to Malfoy's bait infuriated him. I could see his jaw working as he tried to come up with a response, but before he could, I smiled sweetly at him.

"My name is Eleanor Mousseau. And it's my pleasure to meet you, Malfoy."

With that, I turned away from him as Harry and Ron roared with laughter. I grinned at Hermione and Ginny, who had actually high-fived me. Hermione, however, shook her head nervously and watched Malfoy's retreating figure.

"You don't know him like we do, Eleanor. He's not a good person. He really can make you miserable, you didn't have to stick up for me —"

"Hermione, it's okay. You don't know me yet. I'm stronger than you think," I smiled at her reassuringly.

"Well, anyone who can make Malfoy turn tail and run is a friend of mine," Ron said, slinging his arm around my shoulder as we headed out of the Great Hall. "He's a bloody wanker. It's about time someone came along that can rattle him, I think he's gotten used to the three of us fucking with him. Well, the three of us and the rest of the Gryffindors."

"Malfoy isn't liked by anyone except his own House. Even they don't like him, really, just fear him and his father or want to use their power," Harry said bitterly. I looked at him curiously.

"Who's his father?"

Harry looked like he regretted saying anything.

"He's Lucius Malfoy — a Death Eater."

I blanched. Malfoy's father, a Death Eater? Those fuckers were at fault for what happened to my brother….fuck. My standoff with Malfoy suddenly felt a lot more personal. Hermione misread the expression on my face as fear and hurried to reassure me, shooting a glare at Harry.

"Don't worry, Eleanor. His father won't do anything to you because of a little disagreement over breakfast."

Harry reassured me as well, saying that although Malfoy threatened to go to his father over every little thing, he rarely went through with it. We walked towards our first class of the day, History of Magic, which Harry and Ron informed me was the most boring class I would ever take at Hogwarts, while Hermione spluttered a half-hearted defense in the name of protecting education. After an hour and a half of the ghost professor droning on about ancient wars, I had to agree with the boys. We had a short break before our next class, Potions. When I asked about it, the three looked at each other, and then back at me.

"The class is really useful —"

"— Snape is a fucking arse —"

"— we still learn loads —"

I laughed and held up my hands. "I think I get the gist," I said, as we walked into the dungeon. I stopped short, causing the three of them to run into me from behind. Harry looked over my shoulder.

"Ah, shit. I forgot to tell you we double with the Slytherins."

At the sound of Harry's voice, Malfoy had turned to sneer, but paused when he saw me. His eyes turned the color of thunderclouds, and I could almost feel his anger across the dungeon. He said something to the two large boys next to him, and one cracked his knuckles menacingly. I looked at Harry out of the corner of my eye.

"Should I be concerned about the henchmen?"

He chuckled.

"About Crabbe and Goyle? Probably not. They can't act without Malfoy giving them instructions; they're absolute tossers." We made our way to a table in the back just as the professor swept in the doors.

"Sit down. You shouldn't still be talking. We have work to do." His voice was soft but still carried across the classroom. His eyes glinted from a sallow face partially hidden by a sheet of greasy black hair. He looked and sounded dangerous, and I immediately distrusted him.

"I see we have a new student. A transfer," he sneered. He made it sound pathetic and unwelcome and I bristled immediately. He continued, "I hope that Beauxbatons has taught you well enough to scrape by in my class, though I highly doubt it. What is your name?"

I glared at him before replying. "Eleanor Mousseau. Don't worry about me keeping up, I've heard all about you from my Potions teacher at Beauxbatons, and it seems like I'll be more than capable," I finished with a smirk.

The class around me gasped, but Harry and Ron fought to keep from laughing. I don't know what made me say that, maybe it was the way he looked at me so contemptuously or how he had insulted my former school, but I could tell the lie had the desired effect. My teacher had never mentioned him, let alone Hogwarts, but he didn't have to know that. His beady eyes narrowed even further, and I thought I was in serious trouble. However, they quickly widened in surprise as he registered something.

"Mousseau. Father named François?"

"Stepfather," I replied, narrowing my eyes. How did he know him?

"So that makes your mother Sophia?"

I just looked at him, confused. By this time, Hermione, Harry, and Ron, were looking at each other with some degree of concern, and the rest of the class was staring at me. I could see Malfoy muttering something to Crabbe and Goyle.

"I asked you a question, Eleanor."

"Yes. My mother's name is Sophia. My dog's name is Barker, and I had a fish when I was six that was named Sir Swimmington. Any more bloody questions?"

Hermione let out a little groan and shook her head. I felt the same: I thought I had crossed a line, but Snape didn't become angry. He just continued looking at me with that same cold expression.

"Only a couple. Father's name Edmund? Brother's name Alec?" He knew as soon as he said it that he had struck a nerve, because I stood up quickly.

"I don't know why or how you know my family, but they are none of your damn concern." My pulse was pounding and I was fully aware of the faces turned towards me in shock. Snape still didn't show anger.

"Sit down, Eleanor. I will not tolerate this behavior towards me. You have no idea the things that are my 'concern', so I advise you to think before you speak. Now sit. Down."

I remained standing for a moment longer before slowly sinking back into my seat. I didn't think my legs would have supported me much longer anyways. What did he mean I "have no idea" about my family?

The day passed in a blur of people congratulating me on and questioning me about my exchange with Snape. My attitude towards him apparently should have warranted detention at the very least, but he let it slide for some unknown reason. As I walked from Divination to Defense Against the Dark Arts with Harry and Ron, they were still discussing why he hadn't called me by my surname as he did all his other disliked students. That was the least strange part of our conversation as far as I was concerned. Why the fuck did he know my family?

I had been warned about Professor Umbridge, and Harry and Ron both told me multiple times as we walked in the classroom to keep my temper, even if Umbridge greeted me as Snape had. Harry showed me scars on the back of his hand from detentions with her, and I felt sick to my stomach. How could she be worse than Snape?

After a class with her, I understood. Her take on the Dark Arts was utterly ridiculous, and it was misinformation like her teaching that had gotten my brother into so much trouble. I didn't trust Snape, but I flat out hated Umbridge. As Hermione, Harry, Ron, and I walked to dinner, we complained about her class and continued to discuss Snape's odd behavior towards me.

"Well, you three were right about him. I don't know who the fuck he thinks he is to tell me I don't know my own family, but — "

"Surely you remember Snape? God, he was quite a mentor to your brother back in the day. You must've seen him around your house at some point."

I whirled around at the sound of the drawling voice tinged with laughter. Malfoy stood leaned against a wall, looking at me with those gray eyes that again sized me up.

"I would be furious, personally, if my parents had never told me about someone like him. But that's right, your father's dead, so I suppose he can't tell you much of anything. Your brother could tell you though — oh wait, he's dead too."

I lunged toward him, but Harry grabbed my arm.

"FUCK YOU," I screamed, trying to get out of Harry's grasp.

"Eleanor, calm down, don't do it, just breathe," Hermione was whispering next to me. "Breathe. He's just messing with your head."

I stopped struggling against Harry as Malfoy walked away, laughing with Crabbe and Goyle. Hermione was retrieving my books from where I had dropped them trying to get to Malfoy, and Harry put an arm around my shoulder as Ron muttered under his breath about hexing Malfoy.

"Eleanor, listen. I don't know what happened to your family, and I won't ask. But if you ever need to talk, don't forget I understand what it's like to lose people you love." Harry gave me a squeeze. "It'll be okay. Trust me."

I closed my eyes and tried to ignore just how intertwined the losing of our families actually was. Harry couldn't know. I mustered up a smile at him and kept walking to dinner so he couldn't examine my expression closer.

"With friends like you, I don't doubt that I'll be okay."

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