Disclaimer: This is a harmless work of fanfiction. The rights of the Potter-Verse belong to JK Rowlings.Forced minor activity, student x teacher relationship and hard themes ahead. Katja is pronounce Kah-tee-ah. Beware all ye who enter here.

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~Chapter 1, Stoic.~

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Katija Solomon stood with her back straight and her face carefully composed. Behind she could feel the heat from her uncle on her back. It made her skin crawl.

Lucius Malfoy wasn't her real uncle, but since the death of her parents last year he and his wife Narcissa had become her guardians. They had been good friends of her father's, and Lucius and Narcissa had been named as her God-parents.

A cold, black gloved hand rested on her shoulder and she fought the urge to shake it off.

"Katja will do well in Hogwarts, I believe." Lucius spoke crisply to the old man who stood before them.

Albus Dumbledor had to be at least one hundred, but his eyes were clear and sober. No trace of dementia glazed them, no sign of age to dull their twinkling. He seemed ageless to Katja, and in many ways... she suspected he was.

Those eyes settled on her, piercing her but not unkind as he took her measure. She met those eyes politely, betraying nothing.

"I believe she will, Lucius. However, a transfer from America no less is very uncommon at Hogwarts, especially one in their fifth year."

The hand on her shoulder tightened minutely, and Lucius spoke. "It will be fine. Draco will take her under his wing and she should be well received by the other Slytherins."

"What makes you so sure that she'll be in Slytherin house?" The HeadMaster asked, a mischievous light had come into his eyes.

Katja didn't look back, but she could imagine the offended look on her uncle's face. It almost warmed her.

Almost.

"Well, of course she would be," Lucius sneered, "Katja comes from a pure-blood family and she has the cunning and ambition to be a Slytherin."

Albus raised his hand, nodding to him indulgently before he interrupted. "Indeed, I'm sure she does... however, she will require sorting just like the others."

"Of course, HeadMaster." Lucius's hand left her shoulder and he stepped forward, coming abreast with her. His left hand rested on his cane and the other gesturing to nothing in particular. His tone was pleasant, but she knew him. He did not like being challenged.

She zoned out after that, thinking of her life before this. It seemed faded and warn, permiated by a deep sadness that she didn't know how to express. She felt numb.

Once upon a time, she had been called Kitty. She was popular at Ilvermorny, but she wasn't stuck up like the Malfoy's. She considered herself to be humble, and that it was her natural self command that had others looking toward her in admiration.

A long dark shadow slipped into the room, closing the door softly. She blinked, her eyes focusing on it.

It wasn't a shadow at all. It was just a man.

"Ah, Severus. It's always a delight to see you." Her uncle crooned, the sharpness of his smile belying his words.

The man glanced at her quizzically, but said nothing.

"Indeed, Lucius." He said politely, his voice slow and drawling.

"This is my ward, Katja Solomon. The daughter of Cornelius and Andrea Solomon. Their only child." He announced, as though she were a novelty. She felt her temper rise but she cooled it. Severus's brow raised as recognition flaired in his dark eyes and he looked down at her, studying her for a moment before nodding to Lucius.

"So I have been told."

Head Master Dumbledor gestured to Severus, "Professor Snape, if you could be so kind as to escort Miss Solomon to the Great Hall for the sorting ceremony." It sounded like a kind request, but she knew it was an order.

Evidently, so did he. He nodded curtly and gestured for her to follow him. She went without hesitation.

She'd go anywhere as long as she didn't have to stay one more moment in Lucius Malfoy's repugnant presance.

By Paracelsus... she hated that man.

She didn't waste time sight seeing, she followed Professor Snape obediently, the flowing back of his robes reminded her of writhing shadows. She suspected that they were charmed to do that.

He appeared to be a man who liked to be as intimidating as possible, and the effect was rather intimidating.

Their combined footfalls echoed off of the ancient stones that made up the corridor.

"I am sorry to hear of your parents." He said suddenly, stopping briefly to turn and look at her.

She halted, surprised. "Thank you, Sir."

He looked as if he wanted to say more, but he nodded and continued down the hall.

"Did you know them," she asked, "Sir?"

He inclined his head. "I knew your father, once when we were young. Your mother I met only on occasion."

She digested this slowly, and determined that she knew where he'd known them from. He parents had been American Sympathisers of Voldemort's.

Lucius had been a Death Eater, and she would bet that so did Professor Snape.

Katja kept this to herself, of course. She wasn't supposed to know that Dear Uncle Lucius was a Death Eater, after all. It'd been by chance that she saw his dark mark, and he'd threatened her in order to keep her silent about it.

She had a lot to stay silent about, where he was concerned, that was for sure. Her shoulders sagged and she looked ahead, trying not to feel suffocated. She gritted her teeth, trying to force the phantoms of memories she didn't want to think of away.

I HATE HIM.

She seethed, mentally screaming as loud as she could.

Ahead of her, Professor Snape flinched slightly, turning his head to glance at her curiously as he paused infront of two large oak doors.

She blinked at him, unsure of why they were stopping again.

His black eyes turned suspicious and she felt a subtle sensation rise on her scalp, like gentle fingers running through her hair. She shook her head and smoothed it.

Was there a spider in her hair?

The man straightened abruptly, and opened the doors.

Inside there was a cacophony of sound, hundreds of students sat at four tables, a large table at the far end of the room held several -of who she assumed to be- teachers. Directly infront of a large podium was a three-legged stool and an old wizard's hat. She glanced around curiously until she noticed that Professor Severus had begun to move towards an Elderly witch who stood in charge of a large number of what she assumed to be first years.

He spoke quickly to the witch, gesturing back at her. Katja stood a respective distance from them, but she could hear her name; Katja Solomon.

Then the man left, turning on his dragonskin booted heel and settling himself at the high table with the other teachers.

She fell into line behind the first years until the witch came over to her.

"I am Professor McGonagall," she said briskly, her lips permanently pursed. "I am the Transfiguration Professor as well as deputy Head Mistress of Hogwarts. As transfer students are somewhat of a rarity here, you will be sorted first, please go to the head of the line."

"Yes, ma'am." Katja said, making her voice even and sweet. She gave her a small smile and then left her to fuss at a small boy somewhere in the line behind her.

Katja moved swiftly to the front of the room, looking at the sorting hat curiously, unsure as to what she should expect.

After a few more moments and the Head Master's appearance, Katja's name was called.

She felt the weight of the entire school's gaze upon her as she sank down onto the stool, carefully balancing herself. She chanced a glance behind her and locked eyes with Professor Snape. His expression was unreadable but he gave her a small nod of acknowledgment.

Katja turned back around and Professor McGonagall came forward to gently place the old raggedy hat on her head.

A voiced filled her mind. A soft gasp.

Ah, how angry you are... Katja. How full of pain and hate. You poor child. The hat made a soft tsking sound. You have such heart, such intellect, ambition... bravery... good. Very well rounded. What house were you in Ilvermorny? The hat asked, not bothering with her reply as he plucked it out of her mind. Ah, Wampus. A warrior, are you? Yes... I can feel the power inside of you. A powerful witch indeed... better be...

"GRYFFINDOR!" The hat shouted out loud, startling her. The table to her left erupted in applause and the hat was promptly plucked off of her head. She made her way to the Gryffindor table and sank down, two red-headed boys came to either side of her and clapped her on the back.

"Congratulations," they spoke in unison. She looked between them in surprise. "I'm Fred, and he's George."

"Um..." she began, looking uncertainly between the two boys.

The boy on the left frowned at the one on the right. "I'm Fred, and that over there is George."

"No, I'm Fred!" The twin countered.

She smiled at them, a small laugh huffing out of her as she watched them squabble.

"Alright, alright. He is Fred." The right twin said, smiling at her.

"I assume that makes you George?" She asked, teasingly.

Maybe it was going to be fun here after all.