Finally, your update has arrived. Apologies for the wait. Thus, I have including a bit of Extras at the end of the chapter as a compensation.

Enjoy.

Edit: I've made the mistake of Neville's House, it seems, as well as forgetting to make sure that everything I've written is actually there and not lost in some copy-paste error. And this is why my work needs to be beta-ed. Thanks all of you who pointed out my mistakes! As of yet, my Beta has yet to reply, and I hope their doing okay and please come back soon! So, this is currently still un-beta-ed.

Second Edit: Bloody hell I make too many mistakes. My dear Beta please come back. Anyway, this edit is for Hadria's letter to Gellert. Thanks a lot to those who spotted the mistakes and reviewed about them!

Third Edit: Thank you NoToLogins(Guest)! There were apparently still some mistakes I missed.

Pairings: Potential Hadria (FemHarry) x Tom Riddle, but more platonic than romantic, other pairings undecided. See A/N at the end of the chapter.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter

Chapter Eleven: It Begins

"Castigate ridendo mores." Laughing corrects morals. —Jean de Santeul

When Hadria awoke, it was to a strange sense of vertigo. The ceiling was green, and upon flipping over, she discovered that the silver-and-ebony-framed window was fitted with green glass, and so were its curtains. Even the sunlight filtering through the water and glass appeared green. It was almost as if she'd ended up in the Emerald City of Oz.

Of course, they weren't all the same shade of green—the ceiling was a dark pine green, the curtains were a deep forest green, the glass was a seafoam colour, and the sunlight was almost turquoise. But it was still a lot of green.

And the floor was carpeted with a moss-coloured material so soft and springy, it could pass off as actual moss.

Hadria was, to be honest, a bit thrown off by the sheer amount of green. It was the opposite of the Gryffindor dormitories she was used to, where nearly everything was red.

(Did she forget to mention that the hangings, sheets and blankets were also green?)

That wasn't to say that she didn't like it. The sounds of the lake were a soothing lullaby at night, and sometimes, she thought she could see a giant tentacle slither by. And her roommates hadn't been too bad either.

It had only been a few nights, but Pansy had taken to ignoring her existence, while Daphne was naturally quiet, and Davis and Bulstrode were more comfortable with each other than anyone else. It didn't bode well for future friendships, but Hadria reckoned she would get through with one of them sooner or later. Worse come to worse, if she needed a girlfriend to talk girl to, she'd have Hermione.

On her first day of school, she'd been awake early, because she liked to wake up before Gellert, and that meant anytime before eight, and the rest of the Slytherin girls were still asleep…

The question at the time, had been: To do or not to do?

And she pondered this as she took a quick shower in the girls' bathroom.

On one hand, she could mark her first day (and subsequent days too) with a bit of chaos. It meant not giving the school a break. It meant making sure they all knew that Hadria Potter was here and school life would be changing as they knew for as long as she walked the halls of Hogwarts. On the other hand, she could lay low, be a model student, not cause any trouble, until they have been lulled into a false sense of security before she pranked them good.

In the end, she decided to wait.

Waiting was good, and it was the Slytherin way of doing things. It would give her time to plan, and maybe get the help of others.

So Hadria left the Slytherin Dungeons just as everyone else had begun to wake up, and proceeded to the Great Hall for breakfast, all without a fuss.

Or at least, there wasn't a fuss on her part, because she'd only just started on some French toast (crisp and warm and layered with vanilla sauce and honey), when someone let loose a few centipedes at the Slytherin table.

Centipedes, the size of… well, snakes.

They appeared in a blink of an eye, crawling on the table as if they had always been there. One of them crept in and out of a bowl of baked beans and Hadria heard an older Slytherin say, "I'm not eating that."

But it was rather anticlimactic, because no one was screaming or anything—not only were they witches and wizards, they were Slytherins—and Hadria herself was just content with watching the centipedes gross out her fellow early-rising Slytherins, who were trying to Vanish the centipedes.

Unfortunately for them, the centipedes they tried to Vanish would fall apart into black centipede sections that continued to wriggle and scuttle about on the table. Other Slytherins tried Stunning the centipedes, which caused them to explode in black smoke, leaving horrible scorch marks on the table.

When the later Slytherins finally joined them at the table, they found Hadria (and a few other Slytherins who had followed her example) levitating a few breakfast dishes, to prevent the huge centipedes from touching them.

"What in Merlin's beard is going on?" Draco demanded.

Hadria calmly helped him fill his plate with a croissant filled with almond cream and topped with chocolate sauce, some scrambled eggs, and a few sausages. This was followed by an nice and shiny red apple.

"Eat your breakfast," she said, ignoring his question—he could figure it out himself by watching the others. "We have fifteen minutes before we have to leave for class."

Draco stared at her. "Fifteen?" He whirled around to glare at his minions, who each gave him a half-shrug as they stuffed their mouths with muffins.

"It's half-past-nine. Herbology starts quarter-to-ten," Hadria replied. Their time-tables had been delivered to their dormitories during the night, presumably by their Head of House. Hadria wasn't sure if this was a common occurrence, as Professor McGonagall seemed to prefer handing them out personally, or if Snape was just avoiding her.

Halfway through the croissant, Draco paused, swallowed, and asked with a slight frown, "You eat croissants with chocolate and almond cream?"

"Yes," Hadria grinned. "It's a nice combination and I figured you might like it."

This was when the Malfoy scion actually gave his plate a second look-over and Hadria wondered if she should point out that it had been rather careless of him to just start eating whatever was served to him, without actually making sure the food was edible.

(She decided she wouldn't, not until she actually pranked him by serving him something strange. Like Canary Cream, when the Weasley twins finally get around inventing them. As Mad-Eye Moody liked to say, "CONSTANT VIGILANCE!")

"You're missing toast with ham and cheese and baked beans," Draco informed her, when he had finished examining each item on his plate and eating them. But she could tell from his tone of voice that he was wondering how she had piece together a breakfast he liked for him.

Instead of telling him that she had six years worth of opportunities to watch what he chose for breakfast, not that she had been actively stalking him before or anything (really)—which she was actually sorely tempted to do, Hadria merely said, "You don't have the time for that. And a centipede used the baked beans for a dip."

Draco made a funny face at that, which Hadria wished she could immortalise with a camera. Where was Colin Creevey when she needed him? Oh right, he was a year younger than them and had yet to arrive at Hogwarts.

"Is no one going to explain the centipedes?" Pansy Parkinson finally came over to complain. "I can't eat my breakfast with them crawling all over and there are so many legs."

"Ask Hadria," was Draco's reply. While Hadria coughed into her milk.

"It's not my fault. I had nothing to do with it, I swear!"

She did not discreetly glance at the Weasley twins at this.

(Who else could it be? It was totally their style to prank people with things that couldn't be stopped or removed, and if Hadria wasn't wrong, it was almost like a whispered challenge, "We heard from our brother that you sent him a spider. Well done! But we can do better." Which really would've worked better if there were more Slytherins that were squeamish about creepy crawlies).

Except she did, glance at the Weasley twins, that is, and it was far from discreet.

"My father is going to hear about this."

"No, he isn't," was Hadria's decisive reply, and Draco looked at her, a little wide-eyed at the immediate negative. She merely went on to give her nastiest grin, the one that said that things were going to go very Hadria. "Because we'll be pranking them back."

Now he looked like a pale goldfish. "We are…?"

"Yes, we are."

And that was that.

It simply wasn't possible for anyone to not get swept up in Hadria's wake when she was in motion. Even something, like getting served by her only to be ordered about just minutes later, was not questioned.

…

As Hadria promised, no one found fault with her for the rest of the week.*

Except Parkinson, but she didn't count. And Hadria had yet to see Snape aside from the times he joined the rest of the staff for meals at the High Table, though that was going to change pretty soon.

Herbology with Professor Sprout was more boring than Hadria remembered. Perhaps it was because this was the second time she was learning these things, but they hardly touched any living plants. Instead, they were taught how to identify certain plant parts used for potions, and Hadria really wanted to at least see an actual nettle plant, not just their dried leaves.

The first Charms lesson was not quite as boring, because the tiny Professor Flitwick had used a pile of books to see over his desk, and when he called out Hadria's name during the roll-call, he fell off (and out of sight) rather comically. It had been surprising the first time, and it was just as funny this time. But the rest of the lesson had been about theory. Hadria took great delight in answering the tricky questions that Hermione had no chance of answering because they were no longer in the same House. She wasn't sure when it started, but a competition began from somewhere along the way, wherein they'd compete to see who could gain more points for their Houses by answering questions in class.

The worst lesson, however, was History of Magic. Or perhaps one could say it was the best, because Hadria took the time to concoct wild plans for pranking that Draco would shoot down each time because they were simply too absurd. He simply did not share the same sense of humour that she had.

(Binns still had to go, even though Hadria did like the idea of a paranormal teacher).

(Perhaps she could convince Headless Nick or the Bloody Baron to take up the job? Or maybe even all the House ghosts. And they could have guest Professors when other ghosts visited).

(Again, Draco did not share her enthusiasm at having another ghost as their History Professor, headless, bloody, or otherwise).

But it was in their first Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson that Hadria finally managed to earn some brownie points with Parkinson, as the lesson turned into something more like Defence Against the DADA Professor.

Firstly, they were seated (where Hadria sat, Draco would sit, and Parkinson would follow) right at the front. Hadria thought it was a good position to question the Professor about his adventures with vampires and zombies. Parkinson must have agreed, because after Hadria taught her classmates the Bubble-Head Charm, she was like a second Rita Skeeter in the making.

Secondly, well, the Bubble-Head Charm was just the spell that Parkinson had, at that very point in time, desperately needed. The smell of garlic in the classroom was simply so overpowering that it brought tears to the eyes of many students, and it was especially horrid right at the front of the class, where they sat.

Poor Quirrell didn't know what hit him.

Hadria almost pitied him. Almost.

(It was hard to pity someone when one was too excited about messing with said someone and the other person at the back of said someone's head).

Still, the best lesson, Hadria found, was Transfiguration. Professor McGonagall turned her desk into a cow of all things, and made them turn fire-starters into shiny pointy objects right after.

Unfortunately, Draco and Pansy and Zabini made sure she did not light any matchstick either on purpose or accident, not only because it was dangerous, but also because they did not want to lose any House points so early in the year. So Hadria had to settle for turning her matchstick into a tiny silver tabby.

When McGonagall came around to check on them, she found Draco fencing with Zabini, wooden needle against metal-coated matchstick. Pansy was the only one still trying to turn hers into a needle—hers was still most definitely a matchstick, even though it was now the colour of flint. She was very determined to not have anything to do with the boys' random bout of childishness, which she blamed Hadria for, even though said girl had been ignoring the three of them for more than half an hour. Hadria's metallic cat was sitting very stiffly on her desk, even as she tried to spell it to move, but to no avail. She really needed to find out how Professor McGonagall does it… Or just ask Gellert, really.

"Mr Zabini, Mr Malfoy, a point from Slytherin each, for fooling about in class. Please do try harder in turning your matchsticks into needles," the stern-faced teacher said as she passed them by. Then she took a glance at Hadria's desk, and appeared to suppress a smile. "And Miss Potter, you may earn five points for Slytherin for a Transfiguration well done."

In the end, they'd gotten three points, of which Hadria was exceedingly proud of, while Draco whined about the two points they lost just for having a bit of fun.

Hermione was equally displeased because she had only managed to metal-coat her matchstick and make it pointed (only Padma Patil managed to do the same by the end of their class, though Hermione was still the first to do so) but hadn't gotten any points from it, just a rare smile from McGonagall, though Hadria claimed it was far more valuable than a few House points. ("I was so close," Hadria had exclaimed emphatically. "I swear her lips twitched when she saw my cat!")

Then came Friday, the last school day of their first week.

By then, Hadria was known amongst the staff as a bright and intelligent girl who was perhaps a bit of a genius but preferred to jump right into things after a brief glance at the theory. It made her shine in practical lessons, but when there was theory to be learnt, she could be found doodling nonsense in her textbook or scrap pieces of parchment.

But the general consensus amongst the school population was that it would be all too easy to forget that she was a Slytherin if not for the fact that green was a colour that suited her well.

In fact, any Slytherin would admit (if only to themselves) that Hadria did not behave at all like a Slytherin, and they had to respect her for it… Because most of them were Slytherin enough to realise that her behaviour made them rethink what was Slytherin and what wasn't.

Being nice and friendly with everyone? She could gain a loyal crowd like that, and it would be a useful cover for when she eventually does something nasty.

Laughing and skipping to classes like a child? It wasn't directly against the principle of being shrewd or ambitious, so why should they frown upon it?

Disregarding their Pureblood customs and ignoring the proper way of things, either accidentally or on purpose? Why in Salazar's proud name were they letting Crabbe and Goyle blunder about like they'd been brought up by Muggle bouncers?

Still, everyone got used to Hadria the way First years get used to finding their way to class in a magical castle. Because even when Friday came—and everyone who went to the Great Hall for breakfast left looking like they'd just participated in some sort of cross-dressing Japanese cosplay café—nobody suspected her. It helped that the Weasley twins had already built a reputation for themselves, and they were the first to be suspected for the prank.

An enraged Snape in maid uniform took twenty points from them, but they escaped detention only because Dumbledore believed them when they said they were innocent of the prank, and Hadria thought she might have caught Professor McGonagall secretly return the points back to them, if only because many of the boys, including the twins, looked hilarious in skirts and ribbons with cat ears and tails.

The Slytherins were the first to recover from the prank, only because they heard from the perpetuator herself that the effects would last only two hours, and the earlier they had their breakfast, the faster they could get over it. Some of the older Slytherins tried to escape by going straight to the kitchens for their breakfast, but unfortunately for them, she had charmed the kitchen entrance too.

By the time the Slytherins gathered in the dungeons for their Double Potions class, they were all back to normal, while most of the Gryffindors were still dolled-up. The girls were better off of course, as none of them really minded wearing smart tuxedos or male dress robes.

Only two Gryffindors boys—Dean and Seamus—were back in their (male) Hogwarts uniform, because they too, had their breakfast early, having overestimated the time they'd take to find their way to the Great Hall. Ron's clothes were almost back to normal, but there were a lot of frills and laces that had yet to disappear.

Professor Snape was dressed in his usual black robes when he swept in for lesson, which Hadria thought might be a good thing, because it was utterly hilarious when he had been affected—she felt she might need to get her own camera before the term was over or perhaps a Pensieve, if Gellert would allow it—but while a peeved Snape was totally alright, she didn't want a furious Snape as her Potions instructor.

She still choked whenever she recalled what Snape looked like in a maid outfit. Draco himself had been torn between Scourgify-ing his own eyes upon seeing maid-Snape and strangling Hadria for including him in the prank. Blaise, however, was very good-humoured about the whole thing and didn't seem to mind that he had to wear a sailor girl uniform. Indeed, he spent most of his time laughing at their Housemates, some of whom, like Draco, were forced into Lolita dresses for half an hour.

But class had to go on as per normal, despite the school-wide prank that morning.

Surprisingly enough, however, this time around, Professor Snape did not make any comment when he came to her name in the roll call. In fact, he said the next name 'Dean Thomas' right after he said hers, before she could even respond with, "Here, sir."

Hadria felt a bit bemused by that.

And immediately after his brilliant speech about Potion-making, which Hadria committed to memory—she was going to write down the entire thing, word-for-word to Gellert when it was time for her to send him her first letter of the week, just to irk him—Snape turned to a black-whiskered redhead and said, "Weasley! What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Green eyes blinked, and Hadria found herself rather unexpectedly annoyed because that the question hadn't been directed at her. After all, that question belonged to her, did it not? But Snape must still be delaying any further interaction with her, and while it had been funny at first, it was starting to get irritating. She should have been asked that question, not Ronald Weasley.

They had bumped into each other, little more than a month ago, Severus Snape and she, at the European Annual Potions Convention. Hadria, being Hadria, had ended up behaving like a strange little girl who had recently converted to the Religion of Potions after meeting a Potions Prophet, and had treated Snape, who was said Potions Prophet, like he was the best Potions Brewer in the entire continent (which may or may not be correct):

"A Master? Even Gerwald isn't a Master! What's your name, sir? Have you invented any potions? Written any books? Can I have your autograph, sir?"

Of course, she had also conveniently left out her full name and had simply said her name was Hadria. And had promptly taken advantage of the momentary weakness all people had when they were steamrolled in a fashion they had not expected.

"But why does the direction of stirring make a difference?"

"If everything must be so precise, how can anyone just say 'add three porcupine quills'? I'm sure not all the quills are of the same length or mass? Shouldn't there be a more accurate way of finding out how much you need?"

"And when you heat the potion until it turns a certain colour, how do you know when to stop? Green? Lime green? Apple green? How much green is green? And what if the colour of your cauldron, or your own colour perception affects what you see? What if I'm colour blind?"

Snape had still been tolerant enough to help her find Gellert (whom she had lost) though, if only because he didn't want to risk her destroying something which might happen if he were to leave her wandering by herself.

But he must have figured out who she really was sometime during the past month, and it couldn't have been that bad, surely? Because it definitely said something when Professor Snape of all people was avoiding her—Hadria Potter, the Unexpected Slytherin, Girl-Who-Lived and Daughter of James Potter and Lily Potter (nee Evans)—the way she might avoid Lockhart.

Then Ron Weasley replied, rather uncertainly, "I don't know, sir." It was as if he wasn't sure if he was allowed not to know the answer. Which was understandable, because Snape promptly gave him a look that he had perfected really well—the one that suggested that you had behaved exactly as he had expected, by falling short of what little hopes he actually had for you.

"Well, since Weasley here has evidently not opened his textbook since he received them," Snape said as he glanced away from Ron with a condescending sneer. "Perhaps we could have…"

And here, his eyes passed over Hadria who was sitting with her elbows on the table, chin resting in her hands as she gave him her best adorable-kitten-expression.

Me me me memememe, pick me! Hadria thought, half-hoping he'd get the hint via Legilimency or something.

Then…

"Perhaps we could have Potter, our newest celebrity, to answer the question for us?"

Hadria brightened up at the drawling silky words (something that struck the rest of the class as an inappropriate response). Perhaps there was hope for him after all.

"Yes, sir!" She chirped, and saluted, half expecting him to dock points for her cheek. "You can use them to brew the Draught of Living Death."

But Snape did not take any points. Instead, the Professor actually said, "One point to Slytherin, for the correct answer." And he continued on to say, "Now, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"

Once again, Hadria found herself wondering what people would say if she were to reply, "In the storage stomach of my Lethifold, sir."

She didn't, for obvious reasons. She wanted to mess with them without getting herself caught in the mess.

"The butcher, sir, because I'd rather not be the one cutting open a goat's stomach," Hadria replied instead, which earned her a raised eyebrow, a sigh, and another two points for Slytherin—one for the correct answer, and another for being practical.

"And the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?" Professor Snape asked, sounding almost resigned.

Hadria grinned, and before Draco or Pansy could stop her (for they did indeed sit up the moment they noticed the look on her face), she said, liltingly, "What's in a name? That which we call a rose, by any other word would smell as sweet."

She was rewarded with an unimpressed stare. "Potter is right, for the answer is that there is no difference. They are the same plant, and is also known as aconite. But Miss Potter, please refrain from quoting Shakespeare in my class in the future."

She nodded obligingly, but did not bother suppressing her smile. It seemed like Professor Snape had finally gotten over whatever had been afflicting him the past week, and she could have more fun with him.

"You know, perhaps if you had answered that last one properly, we could have earned more points," Draco harped when they were assigned a potion for curing boils. "Granger might have gotten twice the amount of points for her Potions lesson! You're not allowed to lose to her, you know."

"I highly doubt it," Pansy piped up. "I only know the answer to these questions because Mother said that the study of flowers was something a Lady should learn." But Hermione would've read all she could about them anyway, just because she could, even if she wasn't a Heiress.

"Asphodel…" Draco muttered and flipped his textbook. (Hadria didn't think anyone but the Ravenclaws had read their books beforehand). "That's the plant with white flowers, right?"

"There are many plants with white flowers, Draco dear," Pansy replied, almost patronisingly. "Asphodels are the ones that bloom in spiky clusters. They're known for their association with Death." And went on to explain under what circumstances could one put asphodels in a bouquet and what it might mean when it was given to another, depending on what other flowers it was accompanied by.

"Um, a token of thanks and apology," Hadria said, and produced a bouquet of flowers the way magicians do—with exaggerated flourish and bow. The bouquet was a bundle of silver-grey cloth wrapped below spikes of white inflorescence interspersed with the forest-green and chestnut-brown of sepals and leaves. "I heard from Gerwald that they could be useful for Potions?"

Shaking her head with an amused grin, Hadria decided to pair up with the quiet Nott, who looked like he wasn't sure if her presence was a relief—it could have been worse, if he had to pair up with Crabbe or Goyle who should never, under any circumstance, pair up with each other—or a hazard, but was too polite to say anything about it. She had to change seats with Zabini to do so, but he was all too agreeable, because he would rather pair up with Draco than risk pairing up with her.

At the moment, the blonde boy was suffering from the verbal diarrhoea that Pansy had enthusiastically embraced. The other girl was starting to sound like Hermione—if Hermione were the type to gift people expensive cheese wrapped with poisonous leaves.

Even as Hadria made sure that Neville knew enough to treat the potion as he would a plant—with a lot of care and caution—she could hear Draco finally interrupting Pansy as she paused for breath, "But why would I need to know this?"

Much to Hadria's surprised delight, he actually got a venomous look from Pansy. "It's flowers, Draco."

"So? Flowers is a girls' thing."

"He's digging himself a grave," Nott observed. His tone was indifferent, but when Hadria turned to glance at him, he looked almost amused.

Hadria chuckled. "I can hardly believe Pansy's actually scolding Draco."

"I got the same lecture from my mother, actually," Zabini commented forlornly. (Hadria vaguely wondered if he had ever watched any of his step-fathers court the woman who would be their death).

The poor boy was stuck between the quarrelling pair, however, and was doing most of the potion brewing that he was supposed to share with Draco. Daphne was better off, because Pansy was actually helping out while she lectured to Draco about the gentlemanly custom of giving girls flowers, while the Malfoy scion stared at her like a boggart faced with too many people.

By the time Double Potions was over, nearly everyone had forgotten the cross-dressing morning. Until someone gave Dean Thomas the brilliant idea of selling full-body drawings for two sickles each, but wisely made sure that drawings of Professors were off-limits. Hadria returned to the Slytherin common room after a tea with Hagrid to find posters of Percy Weasley in skirts lying about.

Then, when the lights went off and the dormitories were cast in the deep turquoise glow of moonlight filtering through lake water and glass, the girls lit up their wands and began trading pictures.

Before she went to sleep, Hadria managed to get a drawing of every one of her friends, a particularly hilarious one of Crabbe and Goyle together in twin outfits, and even one of a Professor—which she had to pay a galleon for, because it was literally one-of-a-kind. She didn't know how Tracey did it, but she had managed to get Dean Thomas to draw it for her, somehow.

It was a good end to a good week.

By the way, the first of September, 1991, is a Sunday, which means that the first lesson of the year starts on a Monday. I checked. And... I just realised... Letters! Therefore...

Have some extras:

It is the end of the first week of school, it is an hour past curfew, and everyone is in bed.

Somewhere in Cornwall, Gellert Grindelwald receives a letter delivered by Holly.

Dear Gerwald,

How are you? Do you miss me? Well I promised I would write, didn't I?

Hogwarts is awesome. They've got an enchanted ceiling that looks like the sky outside, and school ghosts and even a poltergeist! And they've also got a giant squid in the lake. It's really friendly. It sometimes waves at me when it swims past our dormitory windows (our dorms are in the dungeon). But it's really big, so you usually just see a tentacle or two.

I've been Sorted into Slytherin, by the way. The Hat actually considered—Oh right. The Hat. We have a talking singing Hat that Sorts us into our Houses. You put it on, and it'll look through your mind and decide which House you belong to. But the Hat considered all four Houses for me. Guess how I got into Slytherin!

The Hat has a sense of humour, that's how! I told it about the deal I made with Draco, you see. Oh, I forgot to mention… Draco is a new friend of mine. Draco Malfoy. He's blonde and pale and a bit snobbish, but he's also kind of funny. You should see him with Snag. Draco's in Slytherin with me, and he's looking after Snag now. That's the deal I made with him—I get into Slytherin, he helps me look after Snag. And apparently the Hat thought Draco keeping a Jarvey would be hilarious too, because I told it about this deal, and the Hat said, "Slytherin will help you on your way to greatness, no doubt about that."

I made other friends too! There's Hermione Granger, a Muggleborn Ravenclaw. She's just brilliant. She's really smart, and she devours books the way Noh devours goats. And she's also got really bushy hair.

Then there's Neville Longbottom. He's the boy at the station with the toad and the weirdly-dressed grandmother. He's a bit shy, but he's a great guy. Hufflepuff, you know. Apparently they've got Venomous Tentacula as a House 'pet' in their common room.

Finally, there's Fred and George, the Weasley twins. First day of school and they left huge centipedes on the Slytherin table at breakfast as a prank. They're also saying that they plan on sending their mother a toilet seat. Don't worry, I won't send you a toilet seat.

But here's a picture of our esteemed Headmaster in sailor girl uniform. Please take good care of it. Dean Thomas, a Gryffindor in my year, drew it for me. I had to pay him a galleon for it, since it's an exclusive drawing of a Professor.

(This is the result of a prank I played on the whole school at breakfast on Friday morning. Most think the twins did it. Don't tell.)

Anyway, the Professors are… interesting. Professor McGonagall can turn into a cat, you know. And Professor Flitwick is half-goblin. Meanwhile, Professor Quirrell wears a turban that smells like he filled the entire thing with garlic. And Professor Binns is a ghost. But Professor Snape's the best. We met him at the Potions Convention, remember? Well, we had him for Double Potions, and he opened the lesson with this speech:

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making. As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses... I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even put a stopper in death — if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

Word. For. Word. He makes Potions so interesting! We nearly had an explosion—he stopped it in time. Which is a pity, an explosion would have been nice, but he's good that way.

He's also my Head of House, by the way. Aren't I lucky?

Anyway, that's all for now. I think.

With lots and lots of love,

From Hadria.

P.S. The third-floor corridor is out of bounds. Apparently, you'd die a painful death if you go there. Think I should give it a try? Draco says it's a bad idea though. But then Draco is a regular spoilsport.

Meanwhile, somewhere in Wiltshire, Narcissa passes a letter over to her husband, Lucius, and tells him, "We should invite Hadria over for Yule."

And Lucius unfolds the letter, wondering who 'Hadria' was.

Dear Mother and Father,

It's been a week since school has started, and I'm settling in fine. The classes aren't too difficult, and I'm certain I'm amongst the top three of our year thus far.

I've been Sorted into Slytherin, as you might have expected. But as you might not have expected—

There was a series of ink blotches here, and a small paw print.

—I apologise for the mess. This is my fourth time penning this letter, and I have given up on sending out clean copy. It's all the Jarvey's fault.

There are more ink blotches here, and the handwriting changes slightly hear, from a careful calligraphy to sharp scribbles betraying the writer's irritation.

Blasted Jarvey. Making a mess everywhere. And I can't even get it removed from my person! I regret to say that I am now keeping a Jarvey by the name of Snag. It's Hadria's Jarvey, really. But we made a deal—I regret it now—but a deal's a deal.

Thrice-cursed Potter. That's right. It's all Potter's fault. (And the Sorting Hat. We agreed that I'd look after her pet Jarvey if she were to join me in Slytherin. She conspired with the Hat and now there's a damn Jarvey in my bed. Is the Hat sentient?)

I'm sure you would be pleased to know that I have managed to make friends with Hadria Potter, but I'm not sure if it's worth it. Why, just yesterday, she humiliated me! Of course, she humiliated the entire male population at Hogwarts too, so it wasn't too bad. You should've seen the youngest Weasel. I think it was his first time wearing brand new clothes. I've included a picture drawn by someone in our year.

Hadria Potter is nothing like we expected, however. She's got the daring of a Gryffindor, the curiosity of a Ravenclaw, the heart of a Hufflepuff and the shrewdness of a Slytherin. She had a lot of us fooled at first—almost jumped into the Lake like a Gryffindor so that she could meet the Giant Squid, you know. But now, I know better. She's a Slytherin, all right.

Did you know, I met the Longbottom boy on the train? He was a snivelling wreck because he lost his toad. But just this morning, Hadria managed to persuade him to let us into the Hufflepuff common room—that's right, he's a Hufflepuff—and he was friends with their resident Venomous Tentacula! He looked positively scary when he told the plant not to be shy and that we weren't enemies and wouldn't harm it. I don't know how the Puffs got such a plant in their common room, but I swear it's Hadria's fault that Neville's like this. He was such a meek rabbit when we first met and now she's turned him into a Crup. Not literally, of course. But then, I wouldn't put that past her either.

And would you believe it, she dragged me to visit that oaf Hagrid for tea yesterday! I tried to refuse, but she threatened to encourage her Jarvey to be more of a pain than it usually is. He's got this mangy slobbering dog, and his rock cakes are probably more rock than cake. It was awful.

But I think Hadria intends drag me down again, every week.

Father, couldn't you do something about it? Perhaps arrange for the oaf to move to the mountains, or something to that effect?

From your desperate son,

Draco.

P.S. Do you know of a Gerwald Grinsen? Hadria says that's the name of her current guardian. He's half-German, half-Hungarian. According to her, her guardian's a dangerous wizard. A really dangerous one. I don't think she's kidding. You should've seen her face when she said it. She looked like a demon!

P.P.S. If Blaise or Pansy or Hadria ever sends you a letter, please set it on fire immediately.

P.P.P.S. Hadria says she'd like to visit our Manor one day, because I accidentally told her about our white peacocks. Please say no.

That's all for now! Reviews, comments and suggestions are all welcomed!

I'm really grateful for those of you who made the effort to review and for those I have not replied, I apologise if you were expecting one, but I'm still pretty busy right now, and I'll get around replying... some time, maybe. But I must say, Guest reviewer RR made an excellent suggestion. Please look forward to Hadria having a Dementor as a maid instead of a House-elf.

Next up: Hadria Potter and the... Make an intelligent guess. XD

ABOUT GELLERT-PAIRINGS: (Based on reviewers' input)

Current popular choices: (female) Amelia Bones, (male) Sirius Black

Popular but pending: Lady Zabini (there will be flirting between the two, definitely, but whether they actually get serious is debatable, because of Zabini's... black-widow-ness... Could be interesting though...)

Other suggestions:

(female) Tonks (?), Rosmerta, Ollivander's daughter/apprentice

(male) Severus Snape, Remus Lupin (?), Mad-Eye Moody

No longer considering: Bellatrix (because of Neville), Luna (she's younger than Hadria)

Did I miss out anyone? Well, do continue to provide your ideas and comments on this topic, and these results may change!