The start of term dawned bright and early. Much earlier than Helen would have liked. Sunlight – still pale and shivery in the dawn – slithered from the window to illuminate the dormitory. A shadowed figure was hopping about. Grasping blindly for her glasses, Helen squinted. The figure turned out to be Sue Li, who was evidently a morning person. Having gotten up early, the other girl had attempted to be quiet, but had walked into her trunk in the half-light. Begrudgingly, the rest of the girls rolled out of bed. Lisa, quite literally.

After shuffling into their robes, they made their way back down into the common room. Luckily, they were not the only ones awake so early. The small pack of first years managed to follow the tide of blue and black robes down to the great hall. Standing on her tiptoes, Helen attempted to see the Gryffindor table. The crowds parted for a second and she caught a flash of orange hair. Beaming, she tugged on Padma's sleeve. Waving goodbye, the two girls ducked through the sea of students excitedly. The Gryffindor table was already the loudest in the hall. Though Helen thought the almost luminescent red of their robes lining probably did not help in that assumption. It made them seem bigger and brighter than any other house. Anxiously, Helen hovered at Padma's shoulder as she tried to spot her friends.

"There!" Padma said excitedly, already hurrying forwards. Helen trotted to keep up. As they got closer, she watched as who could only be Padma's twin sister got up from the bench and flung herself forward. The sisters hugged fiercely and something inside Helen ached. She did not have long to think on it however, as someone slammed into her from behind.

"Hel!"

Hermione wrapped her arms around the smaller girl and buried her face in her shoulder. On her other side, Ron sidled up and squeezed both girls tightly; a grin splitting his freckled face. Ron was surprisingly good at hugs and when Helen's curiosity had gotten too much one day over the summer (Dudley would rather have died than hugged one of his friends), she had asked why. 'Big family, hugs are required.' He'd shrugged and went back to exploring the aisles of Khanna's Kuriosities. Slowly the three friends unwound, each of them feeling more settled. Still sticking together, they slipped onto the bench. Padma and her sister were sitting opposite them. Beaming, Helen leant forwards.

"Padma, these are my friends Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger. Guys, this is my dormmate Padma Patil." Helen said enthusiastically. His mouth full of sausage, Ron raised a hand in greeting. Scrunching her nose at his poor manners, Hermione shared a commiserating look with the girls. There was almost as much food on the table as last night, though it was an odd mix of continental breakfast foods and traditional English breakfast items. Helen even spotted haggis someway down the table.

"This is my sister, Parvati." Padma introduced. The two were practically identically except that Parvati had a more oval-shaped face. They were also introduced to another girl on Parvati's right, Lavender Brown who was also in the Gryffindor girls' dorm. Despite the chattering going on around them (mostly Hermione who tended to babble when she was nervous), the three Gryffindor girls kept shooting each other wary looks. Helen's stomach dropped. She did not want them to be at odds, especially if they were going to spend so much time together. From observing, she could see that the three would never be best friends. Silently, as she chewed her eggs, Helen watched as her friend struggled with containing her mane of bushy hair and a thought struck her. Helen knew the fight well, as she often had trouble with her own unruly mess. Parvati and Lavender however were both pristine. Even Lavender, whose own afro was almost as big as Hermione's. Swallowing the last of her eggs, she leant over.

"Your hair is really pretty." She said honestly to the two girls. "I can never get mine to look like that."

She gestured vaguely to where her hair was already attempting to escape from its scraped-back bun. Lavender shook her head violently; pretty curls bouncing.

"Oh no, I love your hair." Lavender insisted. Next to her, Parvati nodded.

"Its lovely and so shiny." Lavender pulled on a spiral of her own hair and watched it bounce. "It takes forever to look after mine. Right, Hermione?"

Hermione looked startled to be included in the conversation. Shuffling in her seat, she looked almost lost.

"Er I used to use hair products, but most of them didn't work so I stopped." She admitted shyly. Lavender nodded empathetically.

"It took me forever to find one that stopped it frizzing. You can try some of mine if you want?"

"Really?" Hermione's face warmed a fraction and she smiled delighted as Parvati and Lavender launched into a discussion of the best magical haircare brands. Helen knew that her friend was only politely listening, but it was better than before as the three Gryffindor girls relaxed. Helen shoved a piece of toas in her mouth. The conversation broke apart as the post arrived. Hundreds of owls – of all colours and sizes – swooped through the rafters in a dizzying dance before finding their owners. Most brought letters and packages from home – things people had forgotten in their excitement. Helen did not look for Hedwig. Ron and Hermione had borrowed her to send letters to their parents last night, so she would not be back for a few days at least. Happily, she helped herself to some pumpkin juice.

"Blimey!" a voice said loud enough to pull her away from her musings. A few seats down from Ron was a scrawny fair-haired boy holding a newspaper in his hand.

"Is this true Potter?" he asked, his Irish accent catching the attention of those around them. the newspaper unfurled in his hands to reveal the stark black headline of The Daily Prophet:

The Girl-Who-Sues!

House Potter sues over fifty authors and publishers over the printing of falsified information

Whispers broke out around them as more and more people opened their newspapers. People stood on benches to try and get a glimpse of her, and Helen felt herself shrinking a little as more people turned to look. Sensing her shift in emotions, Ron and Hermione immediately abandoned their breakfast (a feat for Ron who was on his third helpings) and bracketed her on either side. Grabbing another piece of toast, Ron hauled both of them up.

"Come on." he jerked his head towards the doors. Grateful to leave the sudden interest as people turned towards them, Helen said a hasty goodbye before fleeing. Murmured conversations were almost drowned out beneath the sudden rustling of paper as people eagerly began to read the story. As they passed by, Helen saw Madam Renshaw staring out sternly from the front page. Well, she thought, the Renshaw's had certainly worked quicker than she expected.

The rest of the week was not much different. Everywhere she went – in the corridors, the classrooms, even the Ravenclaw common room – everybody was pointing and whispering. Unfortunately, she did not have many classes with Ron and Hermione so she could not hide behind her much taller friends. Though her fellow Raven's were just as curious, at least her year mates were a bit more understanding. Padma most of all. Helen was incredibly grateful. She made a point of sharing all her class notes with her fellow raven; unsure as to how else express her appreciation at the quite girl's fortitude.

Hogwarts was a labyrinth. Helen spent so much time trying to avoid her fellow students that it was often Padma who pulled her away from falling down a staircase. There were a hundred and forty-two staircases in Hogwarts; small, narrow, spiral, wide and sweeping, it had them all. Most disconcertingly, the main staircases seemed to move independently of one another. Vanishing steps were another issue entirely, and if you were unlucky – as most of the first years seemed to be – you had to wait for another student to help pull you out of a trick stair. There were signs on the walls pointing to classrooms, but Helen and Padma quickly learnt that you could not trust them entirely after they managed to find themselves lost in the dungeons. Luckily, they had ended up near the Slytherin Common Room and a passing prefect managed to help direct them. He also warned them of Peeves the Poltergeist, who seemed to exist simply to make life difficult for the living and dead alike.

If you were lucky enough to find your classes, then it became even more exciting. At least, Helen thought so. Most of the first morning was taken up by Magical Theory, which was taken with your housemates only. Helen had been glued to her seat as the stout Professor Henry had explained the basics of theory and the magical world. She had quite literally stepped into another world, and she barely understood half of it. Let alone any actual magic. At lunch, the two girls once again made their way to the Gryffindor table before departing for afternoon classes with some of the Hufflepuff's. This became routine over the next few days as they split their mealtimes between the house tables.

Before she knew it, Friday brought the end of the week. And with it, their first Potions class. Helen had enjoyed all her classes so far; they were much more interesting than muggle subjects, but Potions was one she was looking forward to especially. She had been rather good at cooking for the Dursley's, so knew how to follow a recipe correctly. Hopefully, that would make sure she did not make a fool of herself. It was a mixed class – one of the few. Luckily Ron and Hermione would be joining her and Padma. Parvati had already had potions earlier in the week and had come back with horror stories of the Potions Master, Professor Snape. Ron certainly looked like he was going to a funeral that morning as he ate his breakfast with less gusto than usual. Hermione had abandoned breakfast altogether and was making Padma quiz her on the different potion ingredients. Since her truce with the other girls in her dorm, Hermione's hair had become more obviously curls, but it seemed to have puffed up with her anxiety.

Potions took place in the dungeons and despite being some of the last to arrive, they had to wait before the door opened. Since the train, Malfoy seemed to have taken a personal dislike to Helen. All week, he had been shooting snide remarks her way, but she normally ignored him. Words hurt, but fists hurt more, and she had had practice ignoring both. Besides, most of his insults fell flat when she managed to get something in class that he did not. His pale face would go pink and he would tip his nose up so high, Helen sometimes thought his head would simply flop off backwards. He often had that look around her, but today Malfoy seemed especially delighted to see her. It was no secret that Professor Snape was the Head of Slytherin House and particularly biased. Especially against Gryffindor, so Helen was nervous as they loitered outside the classroom.

The classroom was lined with shelves full of pickled things – Helen was sure one of the jars was full of eyeballs – and workbenches pushed together in small groups. Two other Gryffindor's joined their table. Neville Longbottom was as white as a sheet, and Helen could not blame him. Already, Neville had a reputation for being clumsy. The Irish boy, who introduced himself as Seamus Finnegan plunked down next to him. Across from them, the Slytherins had gathered. Malfoy had sat so he was grinning nastily opposite her. Helen glared back.

At the start-of-term feast, Helen had the feeling that Snape did not like anyone much – and the rumours certainly seemed to confirm that – but in her very first class, Helen learnt something much more important than the correct way to heat a base solution. Professor Snape hated her. Much like several of her other classes, he started the class by taking roll call, and like three of her teachers to date, he paused at her name.

"Yes, of course." He murmured, black eyes glittering. "Helen Potter, our new – celebrity."

His voice drawled in the hushed silence. Malfoy grinned; white face gleaming in the half-light. Slowly, roll call took up once more, but Snape did not pause or look around again. Finally, as he snapped the register shut, he looked over them. his face was gaunt and thin, eyes sunken and hard – no warmth or kindness lurking in their depths.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potionmaking," he began. He spoke in barely more than a whisper, but they caught every word - like Professor McGonagall Helen thought idly. They both had a gift for keeping a class silent without effort. Though Professor McGonagall thankfully did not rely on fear.

"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 stopper death - if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

Helen hardly noticed that she was holding her breath. To her right, Ron's eyebrows had travelled so far up his forehead they had disappeared. Anticipation thrummed through the air. Even Malfoy seemed captivated.

"Potter!" said Snape suddenly. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Every eye turned to her shrinking form. Palms sweaty, Helen tried to open her mouth. A small squeak passed her lips. Even Hermione, whose hand had shot upwards, turned around in concern. Snape sneered.

"Well, it seems fame isn't everything."

Malfoy sniggered to his friend Goyle, who grinned dumbly.

"Let's try again then," Snape drawled. "Potter, where would you find a bezoar?"

At this point, Ron was pressing his shoulder firmly against hers. Drawing strength from his warmth at her side, Helen twisted her shaking hands in her lap.

"The – the stomach of a goat sir." She said quietly Across from her, Malfoy and his crony's silent laughter petered off. Even Snape somehow looked sourer than usual. Standing suddenly, he came to rest before the worktables with a whoosh of his robes.

"What is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?" he barked. Hermione's hand was still wavering in the air, though she was much more subdued; a hesitant frown marring her face. On her other side, Padma sat primly though one hand had slipped under the table to softly untangle one of Helen's. Taking deep breaths, Helen tried to organise her thoughts. They certainly sounded familiar. She was certain she had read about them in One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi. Licking her lips, she murmured:

"Are they the same plant?"

Dread curled in her stomach. Snape coloured and his eyes burned as he looked down at her over his hooked nose.

"Are you asking or telling me Potter? Five points from Ravenclaw for your lack of preparation. I will not be so lenient again." he snapped abruptly, twisting back to his desk. "You will speak clearly in this classroom or not at all. Over the next few weeks we will cover even the most basic of instructions. Midterms will be essays based on what you have already learnt. These will be completed on your own. Any copying or plagiarism will result in an immediate fail and expulsion from this class. Once midterms are over, I will assign you a partner with whom you will brew a potion as your end-of-term project. Well, why aren't you writing this down?"

There was a sudden rush for parchment and quill. Over the scratch of her quill, Helen blinked back tears. The rest of class did not improve. Even though she thought her ingredients were diced much like Hermione's and she had written out all the properties correctly, Snape still dismissed hers as unusable. Though he did not throw anyone else's ingredients away, it seemed that the professor only liked Malfoy – who he praised openly.

Later, as they gathered in the library after dinner, Helen collapsed on a table. The wood was cool against her forehead and almost made up for the way her glasses were cutting uncomfortably into the bridge of her nose. Slouching in his seat, Ron scowled but got his homework out. Padma set up quietly as Ron and Hermione began to bicker. To no one's surprise, at the end of their first day Hermione had insisted they spend every evening at the library to study. Padma had even been amused enough to go along with it until she realised how obsessive Hermione got. They had quickly worked the manic girl down to a compromise: three nights a week and only on weekends for exams or special circumstances. When Padma and Helen had almost quailed under Hermione's furious denial, Ron had snapped back. Those first two days consisted of crackling glares until an agreement was reached.

"You okay?" Padma nudged her shoulder. Twisting so one cheek was squashed against the tabletop, Helen blinked. Ron was scowling down at an open book like it had personally offended him. Hermione had already disappeared into the stacks. Seeing that they were either distracted or missing, she turned to her fellow raven.

"I lost us five points." Tears burned in the corners of her eyes.

"Don't worry about it," Ron said, flipping through his book. "Fred and George lose points all the time and people still like them."

Behind his head a line of books bobbed along in the air, following a passing student like ducklings follow their mother. Padma patted her hand and offered to go over their potions notes together.

"I think Snape hates me." Helen said mournfully even as she pulled out her notes from class.

"Snape hates everyone." Ron shrugged. It did not make her feel better. Hopefully, it would become easier, Helen thought as she opened her own books.