Yeah, been a while, I know, but I haven't really been in the writing mood. Hopefully that's changed now and I'll get back to my usual pace.

Chapter Four
Double, Double

I spent the rest of the weekend trying to fend off the taunts and teases of my house, ignore the fact that I was being ignored by everyone else, and avoid running into the mischievous poltergeist Peeves, whom appeared to have taken a liking to snatching my things and hanging them from the ceiling. I tended to hide out in the grounds most of the time. After the havoc of the ink spill on Saturday, the solitude was definitely the more preferable option.

Soon Monday morning had crept up. As the students had yet to receive their timetables, I grudgingly decided that breakfast was the only option today. Sure enough, halfway through the piece of toast I was eating, a man with shallow skin, a hooked nose and greasy black hair walked down the table handing out sheets of paper. I recognised him from what I had overheard in the common room as our head of house and Potions Master, Professor Snape.

"Syter, Cassandra." He read in a cold, calculating voice. I raised my hand and he handed the timetable over to me.

"Thanks." I said but he had already read off the next name and was moving on. I looked down at the paper. This morning I had Potions, followed by Transfiguration, Charms and History of Magic. None of them looked too bad. I was even looking forward to the chance to get my mind off of my social position.

At five to nine I got up and made my way down to the dungeons where the Potions classroom was located. I took a seat at one of the few tables which were neither crowded with Slytherin glares nor already filled. It looked as if we were having Potions with the Ravenclaws. I sat opposite two prim looking girls at the front of the class. Each gave me an odd look and I smiled in return, hoping they would at least give me a chance. They immediately started whispering to each other and I doubted that was going to happen any time soon.

I looked around the classroom. It was colder down here than it was in other parts of the school, even in the Slytherin common room which I thought was, if anything, even further underneath the main building. It was also dark, the only light echoing from the torches lit in the walls. My unease was only heightened by the many jars lining the shelves containing potions, plants and fairly grotesque pickled animals. A gargoyle was spewing water from its mouth into a basin in one of the corners. I spotted Sarah sitting at the other end of the classroom and waved. She only pretended not to notice. The only way in which I would enjoy spending a day down here would be if I was a bat.

Just as I was pondering whether Professor Snape had perhaps been brought up in a cave, the door slammed open. Professor Snape stormed in, his cloak flapping wildly behind him, and marched straight up to the front of the class.

"Wands away." He ordered. Half the class returned their wand to their bag or pocket. He then proceeded to take the roll call, looking as if he was barely even noticing the names as he read them out. He stood straight and peered at the class in front of him. No one dared to speak. I had to admit to myself, even if the atmosphere was amazingly creepy, it did the job of keeping order in the class.

"In this classroom you will be learning the delicate art that is potion making." Snape began. It was barely a whisper and yet the entire class caught every word. "I doubt many of you will appreciate the subtle beauty of a simmering cauldron or the glistening fumes, with even less of you truly understanding the precise science behind the magic. The possibilities that can come from a correctly brewed potion are beyond some of the greatest mind. With the correct application there will be little in this world that is out of reach for you… That's if you contain even the slightest bit more intelligence than the usual morons I am forced to teach."

I was tempted to laugh at that, but a quick scan of the room made me realise that I was the only one. No one else was even smiling. Snape looked down at the roll call in his hands.

"Calingham!" he suddenly shouted. Everyone jumped, including a very scared looking Sarah towards the back. She raised her hand in response. "What is the main ingredient of a swelling solution?"

Sarah looked like a deer caught in the headlights. After a good two minutes of her simply staring wide-eyed at Professor Snape, he decided to speak again. "Have you perhaps taken a silencing potion before entering my classroom or do you purely not know how to speak?"

"I- erm-" Sarah stuttered, "I don't know the answer, sir."

"Then you shall say so and not perform an impression of one of the suits of armour. White!" Snape had looked down his nose at the register again. An average looking boy at the table next to ours slowly lifted his arm, his eyes the size of dinner plates. "What are the main ingredients of a befuddlement draught?"

"Uh-"

A malicious smile grew across Snape's face as the boy continued to stammer. "Yes?"

"Sn- Sneeze… wort?" White whispered with his eyes squinted up as if expecting to be yelled at for his answer.

Snape's smile disappeared. "Go on." He said slowly.

"And- uh- ginger?"

"There will be no need for random guess-work in my class Mr White. Continue to do so and you shall soon find yourself challenged in the living capacity." I did feel bad for White. Honestly. But the way Snape had put his swipe was just so funny. I couldn't help it. A little giggle escaped my mouth. It was like thunder amid the silence. Everyone's head snapped round to face me. I suddenly didn't find it very funny anymore.

"Something amusing, Miss…?"

"Syter. No, professor. Nothing amusing." I bit my lip anxiously.

"Then you will kindly tell me the main use runespoor eggs in potions, won't you Miss Syter?" Snape had walked right up to our table now and was peering directly into my eyes. I had an urge to shiver under the venom emanating from him.

"I- I'm not sure, sir," I admitted. Snape's smile returned and he began to walk back towards the blackboard at the front of the class. "But-"

He twisted around to face me again, an eyebrow rose in wait for what I was saying. I worked it through in my mind, hoping that my thoughts weren't completely insane.

"But seeing as the runespoor is known for its three minds, their eggs in all likelihood will be used for something that enhances mental ability… won't they?" Snape was silent for a moment, his gaze firmly on my face. I stared back nervously.

"Five…" he finally let out quietly, letting the teeniest bit of surprise show in his voice, "points… to Slytherin."

Murmurs started up around the class.

"Quiet!" Snape snapped. "Now kindly turn to page 14 of Magical Drafts and Potions and I will begin attempting to impart those brains of yours with some form of applicable information."

The rest of the lesson was surprisingly fun.

Over the next few weeks I became accustomed to the many different teaching styles at Hogwarts. My favourite subject soon became Potions; not for frankly terrifying atmosphere that had you believing the tiniest mistake would have your spleens on the ceiling, but mainly for Professor Snape's hilarious one-liners and insults, delivered with the deepest sincerity. Plus it looked like I had a knack for it, and that always helped in improving lessons.

Transfiguration – that's turning one thing into another, by the way – was also alright. McGonagall taught that. She was indeed as strict as she had first appeared, but she was also fair and a good teacher. By the end of my first lesson I had successfully transfigured a match into a needle, earning more points that my house did not deserve in the slightest.

Professor Droon taught Defence Against the Dark Arts, a class I was extremely excited about, but alas, we appeared to be doing no more than reading from the textbook at the moment. Droon says we'll get round to doing some practical in a bit, but for the first few weeks the classes were exceedingly dull. Not as dull as History of Magic, mind you. The most exciting part of the lesson was when ghostly Professor Binns glided in through the blackboard. I would have succeeded in sleeping through most of the endless lectures on goblin riots had it not been for the occasional paper missile thrown at my head from the other Slytherins.

Charms, Herbology and Astronomy were alright as far as school goes. I couldn't say I was particularly interested in the magical properties of dittany or proper positions of Venus throughout the year's skies, but the classes were by no means boring. Professor Flitwick, Sprout, and Sinistra actually knew how to teach a lesson. Besides, at least knowing these things could be useful in the real world.

But outside of the lessons, nothing seemed to be improving. The rest of my house continued teasing me. The rest of the school continued ignoring me. The only person I found I could talk to was Hagrid, whom I made sure to visit at least once a week. In fact, I seemed to get along with the teachers and staff far better than any of the students. They would actually talk to me like a person and not a filthy blood traitor or dirty Slytherin.

Soon the weather began to get colder, and I found my personality slipping alongside it. I found I was clever enough to learn enough magic to keep the other Slytherins from messing with my things or downright insulting me to my face, but that just led to further isolation. From time to time I would miss the taunts and sneers. At least they were acknowledgement of my existence. As October slipped into the cold, wet November, I found that when I entered a room, no one even noticed I was there. I gradually felt my persona creeping further backwards and backwards, deeper inside myself, only venturing forward in my time with Hagrid. Days slipped past. I was barely aware of them. Weeks merged together; only discernable by the changing weather I sometimes spotted in my time in the castle grounds. By the time Christmas came, my outer surface had no trace of a soul left.

I tried to hide the change in my attitude from Granma Sue over the Christmas break, but I'm sure she noticed something was up. On the one hand I was grateful for my time away from Hogwarts and the chance to genuinely smile once more, but on the other I found I missed the lake and the grounds, the sight of the rolling mountains of impenetrable forest and the homely smoke coming from Hagrid's cabin. Despite my hatred of what the place had done to my spirit, I was now a Hogwarts student, and Hogwarts was now my home.

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