A/N: Sorry for lack of updating! My new Hannah Montana/Clique story had a nice kick off and I was caught up in it! Sorry.

SNAPE'S DUNGEON

"You are exactly five minutes late, Miss Stewart," spat Snape, looking at me like some infectious disease. "I will not tolerate such disrespect. I expect you bought all of your proper materials, correct?"

I stared at him blankly. I was supposed to bring materials? Snape shook his head in disgust. "I suppose you forgot! Imbecile," he muttered under his breath, then returned to normal as he said, "Alright, then, we'll just go over written material. You may borrow one of my books this one time. Next time and you will receive a detention just like your friends'. Now get the book immediately and turn to page thirty-two." I dashed across the room, hoping not to upset him—was it fair that he automatically hated me? I grabbed the book in the best condition—which wasn't even good—and turned to page thirty-two. After subtly blowing off some of the dust and polishing the book slightly, I was ready.

Snape opened his mouth and facts began spewing out of it that I'd never heard before. Words were being used that I'd never heard before, such as "doxy venom." I scribbled down as much as I could in a notebook I'd brought. After twenty minutes, Snape looked at me expectantly. "So?" he asked. I gulped nervously and attempted to return his death stare. He made this disgusted sound. "What have you learned?" he snapped, pacing back and forth slowly. I gulped again and, with my hands shaking and my voice cracking, read my notes. He let out a small grunt of frustration when I'd finished. "Pathetic!" he shouted. "I see you have not learned a thing in the past twenty minutes! I just handed you an O-deserving paper (A/N: In case you didn't know, the grades are different—O is for outstanding) on a silver platter and you cease to accept it! I see. Well, we'll just have to work much, much harder then, won't we? Ten points from Gryffindor!" He turned away so I could ponder the unjustness of this. I was probably turning red with anger. How dare he do that to me? He was prejudiced against me because of the people I knew and the house I was put it? I wondered if the headmaster knew, but he probably did—who wouldn't report such an atrocity to someone who could put a stop to it? But why hadn't Dumbledore done so?

After an hour or so (it seemed like two days more) more of being worked to the bone, Snape said coldly, "You are dismissed. I will see you back here at the exact time. You will not be late." I nodded reluctantly and turned, sticking my tongue out at him indirectly. I could've sworn I heard him chuckle as I left the dungeon.

THE COMMON ROOM

Harry collapsed into a chair and Ron returned from the bathroom, where he'd been throwing up (ew). "I pity you, Miley," Harry said in that totally adorable accent. "No matter how disgusting and unbearable our detentions were, we couldn't understand how you were feeling unless we multiplied our suffering by ten!"

"That makes me feel much better!" Ron said cheerily. "It doesn't do me any good," I lamented dramatically, following suit and falling back into a cushy chair. Ron sat on the floor, still looking slightly green (and pale at the same time, if that's possible). Hermione walked in importantly (like always). "Hello, Ronald, Harry, Miley," she said seriously. "How were your detentions?"

"Fine, thank you," Ron said, mocking her tone. Hermione glared at him indignantly and then ignored him completely. "So, Miley," she said to me, "are you going to the Welcome Ball next weekend?" I opened my mouth to reply but Harry (practically) shouted, "What ball? We never have a ball in the beginning of the year!" Hermione stared at him as though he were crazy and said, "Didn't you check the bulletin board over there? It's the pink paper tacked up in the middle. It's pretty hard to miss."

"Maybe we don't look for 'fun outings' every second," Ron remarked. Hermione rolled her eyes. "Childs' play, that's what it is," she murmured. "So, Miley," she repeated in a normal voice, "are you going to the ball? And, if so, who with?" I thought about everything that had happened to me in my first week at Hogwarts. "I suppose I will," I said slowly and uncertainly, "but I don't know who I will go with. Nobody's asked me and I don't want to go alone—I'll look stupid."

Harry immediately shot up out of his seat at the same time as Ron. "I'll go with you!" they shouted simultaneously. I blushed. Here we go again, I thought to myself. "Boys, you guys are both the most amazing guys I've met—trust me, we don't have any genuine boys like you back in California—but I can't go with both of you!" Ron suddenly took a deep breath. "You should go with Harry, then," he said even slower than I had earlier. "You two fit better together."

I threw my arms around him quickly. "Oh, Ron, that's so sweet," I cooed. "But who will you go with? You're not going alone, are you?" Ron looked around the common room, either searching for a date or making sure we were alone. "I suppose I'll ask this beautiful girl I've had my eye on since first year," he stated, his cheeks turning the color of his hair.

"Who's that?" Harry said, raising his eyebrows and nudging Ron.

"Hermione."