Ashes of the Phoenix: Year One

A/N: guess who's baaaccckkkkkk. Anyways, just so you know this book will be a mixture of things that happened in the film and what happened in the books. For example, McGonagall's first lesson is taken more from the film than the books because I love that dramatic cat transformation but her speech about transfiguration is from the book – so it's not mine! Like most things so far tbh, which will be changing more and more XD…

Oh, and I don't have a Beta so sorry for any spelling mistakes!

Chapter 3, the Snakes and the Lions:

Dutifully, the eleven-year olds followed the Prefects from the Great Hall, trailing after them as small ducklings would their mother. Ivy and Tracey lagged behind somewhat, taking in the sights on their way to the dungeons. Never before had either girl seen moving portraits, both having grown up more in the muggle world than the magical one. They found themselves fascinated when Ivy saw a portrait of Anne Boleyn. Had she really been a witch then? Perhaps she could ask her…

"The password to the common area," the Slytherin Prefect broke in melodramatically, snapping Ivy away from her thoughts, "is Merlin, which changes daily. To any of you who are thinking that is an easy password, you are wrong. What house would outwardly admit that one of the greatest wizards of all time was in out house, seen as they think we're all evil? Be prepared for the prejudice, little ones, otherwise you might as well not be here."

With those words, the platinum haired, female Prefect spoke the password before sauntering through the frame. Ivy and Tracey exchanged a look, before following. After Charles' ravings about the Slytherins on the way to the train station, she supposes she should have been more prepared to hear about the prejudices, but it just didn't make any sense to her. It's like saying that because Grindelwald was blonde, then all blondes were evil.

Well, Ivy thought, looking distrustfully at an almost white-haired boy who was ranting about how his father would have gotten him the largest and most brilliant dorm room.

Stepping through the frame, she was faced with a stunning room. Ivy had never been particularly materialistic; she hadn't really had the opportunity to be with the Dursleys, but this room exuded wealth and class. The furniture was finely made, dark woods and elm that looked centuries old but not worn down in the slightest. In fact, Ivy wouldn't be surprised if some of the furniture had resided here since Slytherin himself, preserved over the ages. No doubt the material atop them was silk, fine and coloured an excellent shade of emerald, and some silver.

A fireplace resided on the back wall, large and commanding the attention of the room, contained in marble. Perhaps even more noticeable than the fireplace, however, was the throne-like chair opposite it. The chair was high and proud, and made entirely of platinum. From the arm rests, snakes twisted out and moved upon their own whim, made from the same material with the emerald gem itself for eyes. Despite the fact that the chair would no doubt be uncomfortable and cold, Ivy knew without a doubt that she wanted it.

The presumably Sixth Year girl who had led them to the common room sat herself down in the chair sideways. From the long windows on the right side of the room, the eerie green glow of the lake lit up her smirking face sinisterly. She regarded each of them in turn, and Ivy knew the moment the blonde looked at her that she had seen the hunger and ambition in Ivy's eyes.

"Welcome to Slytherin," was all the girl said, before becoming disinterested when a group of her friends – well, minions Ivy thinks would describe them better – came rushing over to sit to her sides. Ivy continued to watch the scene, noting the awe and respect in their eyes for the girl on the throne, and she found she wanted that throne even more now.

"Ives," Tracey broke in, offering the black-haired Potter a brilliant smile, "it's the left staircase that leads up to the girls' rooms, are you coming?"

Ivy nodded eagerly, glad to see that the other First Years were also distracted by the Prefect, so that they would get one of the first picks of rooms. Grabbing Tracey's hand – just like she'd seen the other girls do in the playground, but had never had anyone to do it with herself – they giggled together and ran up the stairs, the other girls then hot on their heels.

Swiftly, Ivy and Tracey swung the doors open to each room as they passed. The rooms closer to the stairwell were slightly bigger, but they both decided on the two end rooms. That way, if someone decided to attack or come looking for them, then it would take them longer and the other girls' screams would surely alert them. Pessimistic thinking, sure, but she had too often been taken by surprise by Dudley and his companions.

After both putting their stuff in their respective rooms, Tracey told Ivy to come to hers. Ivy's was the very furthest room – simply because she ran faster than the less athletically inclined Tracey – so Ivy walked out of her's and one room to the right to see the new interior of Tracey's room.

The sight of Tracey's room made her feel numb. Pictures of Tracey and her father – a kind-looking man with aristocratic features and pale skin, making Ivy certain that Tracey must have got her wildly curly hair and burnt caramel skin from her mother's side – littered the room in various frames, both grinning and laughing in all of them. Also, Tracey had various posters of her own interests. She had a Star Wars poster – a trilogy that Ivy had never heard of but had always heard other children talking about – and a Queen poster. There were also books littered all over the study desk provided, most by Edith Blyton.

Ivy's room was a complete contrast. Her walls were simply emerald green. There was nothing else. Her study desk had her school books and the extras that Mr. Flourish had provided; her side table draw had nothing in it bar a few figurines that she had sentimentally swiped from her cupboard.

"My dad has always loved Star Wars and Queen, so he got me to watch and listen to them too and I loved it! Wouldn't it be magical to be able to find your own Han Solo here? Or maybe even a Luke Skywalker, he was cute too!" Tracey excitedly explained when she saw Ivy's eyes roaming the room, when she came to explain the books, her tone turned a little more sombre, "Enid Blyton was my mum's favourite author – she bought me all of those books before she died… Who's your favourite author?"

The dark-haired girl had no idea what to say. She could hardly tell Tracey that any time she took a book out of the school library then Uncle Vernon would throw it away or rip it and tell her to continue with her Aunt's list of chores; no doubt Tracey would realise what a pathetic freak Ivy was too then. Thinking quickly of the books she'd read over the summer, she stutteringly blurted out, "M-Miranda Goshawk."

Tracey made a face and laughed, "that's cheating! You can't say one of the school books."

When Ivy didn't reply, merely put her head down, Tracey's smile dimmed. Tears burned in the eldest Potter's eyes, she felt so embarrassed and pathetic, so inferior. Ivy hated feeling powerless. Just change the subject, you freak, she scolded herself.

Ivy lifted her head when she saw Tracey's hand offering her something. Tracey was offering her a tentative smile and one of her books, called: The Faraway Tree.

"It was my mother's favourite, this was the copy that she was given for her fifth birthday," the brunette informed her quietly, "and I'm sure you'll love it to."

Slowly, as if she was waiting for Tracey to change her mind (which she was), Ivy took the book from her hands, pulling it against her chest. With barely a second interval, Ivy threw her arms around Tracey and hugged her. Tracey gripped back just as tightly.

"Will you be my best friend?" Ivy asked. She didn't know if you were supposed to ask or not – she'd never really had friends, but Tracey didn't seem to mind if she was doing it wrong.

"You're already my best friend, Ives."

Being ever so excited about her first day, Ivy was ready a whole half an hour before breakfast was even set to begin. After five minutes of trying to refrain from doing so, she found herself knocking on Tracey's door, hoping the curly-haired girl wouldn't find the action too weird.

Tracey, as it turns out, had gotten ready early too. In fact, she'd been ready a whole hour before Ivy had! But she hadn't been sure if Ivy was an early bird or not.

"I am," Ivy had told her, without elaborating that she had to be so she could finish some of her chores in order to be able to go to school, and their conversation soon shifted to what they thought their timetables would look like.

When they finally got to the bottom of the stairs (First Years were on the very top floor, which inspired some jealousy in Ivy as the Sixth and Seventh Years must get a beautiful view of the lake) they found the common room bursting with energy. By the thrones, the blonde girl and her group had again taken up residence; near the common room door, a congregation of what appeared to be third years loitered and talked about what options they had picked; finally, by the windows to the lake, stood various groups of first years.

Tracey and Ivy wandered over to them all. As soon as they saw Tracey, a muggleborn, heading their way they turned their backs to them. Almost imperceptibly, Tracey's ever-cheerful expression faltered before she recovered and shoved the mask back into place. Without needing to speak with each other, they appeared to understand that they would not bother trying to speak to the others, and stopped a couple of metres away from them.

"What do you think our Head of House will be like?" Tracey inquired thoughtfully after a few moments of comfortable silence, her eyes scanning the room.

"I don't know," Ivy replied, hoping that he would be kinder to Tracey and her blood status than the rest of Slytherin appeared to be, but a part of her truly doubted that, "I hope he'll be helpful and fair, though."

A snort came from their far right, and they turned to regard a group of Second- or Third-Year boys. The one who'd snorted, a golden blonde, grinned toothily at them as he informed them, "Snape's a good Head of House, so long as you don't get on his bad side. Good old Selwyn sent him a bottle of shampoo in First Year as a Christmas joke and the Professor has hated him ever since. He can hold a grudge, so watch out Firsties, don't want to make yourselves Slytherin's Undesirables."

A bell sounded, informing them they could begin to make their way to Breakfast. The group of boys shoved past them, snickering when Ivy's bag fell off her shoulder as a result of the jostling. She and Tracey both scowled at their retreating backs, before moving to catch up with the rest of the crowd.

"I doubt he's really that bad," Tracey told her optimistically, a hop still in her step, "teachers can't be bias and hold grudges. We'll see anyways later, so there's no point speculating."

Ivy nodded silently, and they began to trudge their way up the large staircase from the dungeons to the Great Hall. When they arrived there, there were no candles as there had been last night, as there was no need. The enchanted ceiling that Ivy had read about in Hogwarts: A History was displaying a bright, clear September day and the large windows behind the main table letting in much light.

From what they could see, even the table seemed to have a hierarchy. At the top of the table, closest to the teachers, is where the First Years were sitting and so on down the table. The only difference was that the blonde Prefect, who Ivy was certain wasn't yet a Seventh Year, and her clique sat at the very, very end.

Not wanting to get into any conflicts on the first day, and not really being that bothered, the two eleven year olds took their seats at the very front of the table, as many of the First Years had moved a considerable distance down the table – squishing up – so they didn't have to be near a Muggleborn.

This time, it was Ivy's turn to summon a cheerful smile to, hopefully, make Tracey feel more positively about all of this. Any discontent Tracey might have felt was soon wiped away when mountains of food magically appeared after a final 'welcome to Hogwarts' from the Headmaster. From their position, they had the perfect scope of the teachers' table and Ivy got out her book about Hogwarts so she could recognise which one was Professor Snape.

Discreetly, Ivy then pointed him out to Tracey. Already, merely from appearance, it was evident that he was a solemn, cold man that rather reminded Ivy of Scrooge from when her school had put on the play A Christmas Carol. Little Matthew Yates hadn't acted the part very well, but still. Ivy was cut off from regarding him any further when his nearly black eyes snapped towards her and she swiftly averted hers with a start. He was still looking at her for several moments afterwards, so the dark haired girl dared a peek back and was shocked to see the complete and utter loathing in his eyes.

"Damn, if he was Medusa you'd be stone right now," Tracey told her, having seen it too, "and then after you were stone, he would have shoved your statue to the floor so you would break into a bijillion little pieces and then he would have sent you to some kind of breaker-thingy and thrown-,"

"I get it, Trace," Ivy told her with a small smile, eyes showing both amusement, confusion and concern, "I just don't understand what I've done to make him hate me so."

Tracey shrugged sympathetically, before beginning to talk about what a lovely day it was, and how they might be doing flying lessons today. The eldest Potter zoned out, looking at herself up and down. Had she put her tie on wrong? First Year ties were clip-on ones anyway so she doesn't understand how that could have gone wrong. Maybe it was her hair? She had noticed that most of the other Slytherins had impeccable hair, even Tracey's lovely curls were somewhat tamed into a half-up half-down look. But Ivy's hair just wasn't tameable, it wasn't in it's nature.

She'd try harder to make her hair more orderly before her first lesson, she decided, despite already knowing it would be an effort in vain.

When Snape got up from his seat and began to walk towards them, Ivy felt the distinct urge to flinch. Only her Uncle and Aunt looked at her with that much dislike when she had done something so wrong that she would suffer one of their very occasional hits. He moved his hand suddenly, and Ivy flinched and closed her eyes. A moment passed, and she opened her eyes to see it was simply her time table being held out in front of her.

Meekly, she grabbed it off of him, muttering an embarrassed apology. Snape, Tracey and some of the First Years who had been watching the altercation stared at her – so she matched all of them with a defensive glare. The Head of House then scoffed at her, muttering something about being just like 'Potter' with his dramatics, before moving on.

Tracey's concerned gaze had been forgotten when the curly-haired girl's attention was stolen by her own time table. Ivy was glad of that, and looked down to finally read her own.

MONDAY:

FIRST PERIOD (9:00AM-10:00AM): Transfiguration with Ravenclaw

SECOND PERIOD (10:00AM-11:00AM): History of Magic with Hufflepuff

BREAK (11:00AM-11:30AM)

THIRD PERIOD (11:30AM-12:30AM): Potions with Gryffindor

LUNCH (12:30AM-1:15PM)

FOURTH PERIOD (1:15PM-2:15PM): Defence Against the Dark Arts with Ravenclaw

FIFTH PERIOD (2:15PM-3:15PM): Flying with Gryffindor

TUESDAY:

FIRST PERIOD (9:00AM-10:00AM): Charms with Gryffindor (DOUBLE)

SECOND PERIOD (10:00AM-11:00AM): Charms with Gryffindor (DOUBLE)

BREAK (11:00AM-11:30AM)

THIRD PERIOD (11:30AM-12:30AM): History of Magic with Hufflepuff

LUNCH (12:30AM-1:15PM)

FOURTH PERIOD (1:15PM-2:15PM): Herbology with Ravenclaw

FIFTH PERIOD (2:15PM-3:15PM): NONE

ASTROLOGY WITH GRYFFINDOR (10:00PM-11:00PM)

Ivy read the other days, of course, but she focused mainly on what was coming up immediately. There appeared to be more pairings with Gryffindor than any other house, which made her thoughtful. Was that to try to heal the rift between the two houses, or to worsen it?

Thinking of her 'rival' House, her emerald eyes darted to regard her twin brother. Charles Potter appeared to be in the middle of some kind of elaborate story, with a red-haired boy and brown-haired boy hanging on his every word. Meanwhile, two other classmates of him, one with darker skin and the other who Ivy recalled to have lost a frog, conversed with one another. Many eyes around the room, whichever house it may be, darted their eyes over to her brother frequently – and sometimes even her too.

It made Ivy feel like some kind of exotic animal in a zoo that people yearned to look at and even wanted to pet. A caged animal.

The dark-haired girl was glad to hear the bell ring for first period, prompting her and Tracey to eagerly begin to make their way to Transfiguration.

Once all the students had entered the room, it was as if a silent civil war was occurring. To the left of the room sat a sea of red Gryffindors, whereas the snakes made their home on the right. All desks in the centre of this segregation were pushed further apart, and disgusted looks were exchanged (mainly from the Gryffindor side). Ivy didn't particularly care for their little war, but she was proud of her house so if a Gryffindor met her with a condescending look, she would send one straight back.

A cat resided upon the table at the very front, eyeing the students with an almost human-like observation. Ivy furrowed her brows at the animal, which stared back at her, but she soon shrugged it off. She had heard that certain magical breeds of cats were more intelligent than others, perhaps this was an example of that.

The Professor was late, though, which made the anticipation in Ivy build. She couldn't wait to start learning magic!

Unsurprisingly, her brother and his friend made a scene by bursting in late. The bright red haired boy looked somewhat sheepish, but her brother appeared uncaring – as if a lesson didn't even start until he arrived. It made Ivy roll her eyes, doing so even harder when he met her eyes and gave her a look of upmost revulsion and disbelief.

If you don't think any sister of yours should be a snake then maybe you should have made sure mum and dad didn't abandon me for you, Ivy thought bitterly, stabbing her quill into the table which earnt her a sharp look from cat with curious circular markings around it's eyes.

Said cat leaped from the table it had resided upon, transforming into a woman as it did so. Ivy's mouth fell open, and she mentally hit herself at her own stupidity. Of course! An animagus! It even had the circular markings from McGonagall's glasses! Disappointment in herself cut hard, feeling almost as if she'd failed before the lesson had started.

"That was amazing!" Tracey remarked in a hushed tone, "do you reckon she'll teach us how to do that?"

Ivy smiled at Tracey's excitement, which soon filled her too, "I don't think so, I read that it's really hard to manage but we should teach ourselves one day!"

Tracey hastily nodded, so hard that Ivy giggled, thinking her head might fall off.

McGonagall scolded the two for being late, but seemed to look at Charles fondly, and soon told them to take their seats, before beginning her speech: "Transfiguration is some of the most complex and dangerous magic that you will learn at Hogwarts. Anyone messing around in my class will leave and not come back. You have been warned."

As an example of the magic she was about to teach, she turned her desk into a pig which Ivy marvelled at. She wondered how long the transfiguration would last… Maybe it depended on the power of the caster? Or maybe certain spells had a time limit?

Her train of thought made her smile. The studying truly was helping her have a more curious approach to academics, rather than the removed attitude she'd had because of Dudley's lack of brains.

Professor McGonagall then set them the task of turning a match stick into a needle. By the end of the lesson, Hermione Granger had done the best – the end pointy and the match turning silver. Charles also appeared to be efficient at this lesson, which made Ivy scowl, having turned his own matchstick silver too. Ivy's had gone a little pointy, but not enough to be praise-worthy, which was displayed with McGonagall delivered smiles to Hermione and Charles and showed their matchstick-needles to the room.

Her brother, who was seated in the middle of the division due to entering late, turned to the right and said to the Slytherins with a scoff, "maybe you should change your clever characteristic to evil, you Merlin's asses."

Every single Slytherin glowered at the arrogant boy. McGonagall, to Ivy's intense dismay, simply gave him a sharp look rather than scolding him. What was even worse was that then the Slytherins turned to her with accusatory looks, as if she was responsible for her brother's actions.

"Shut your brother up, Potter," Daphne Greengrass hissed towards her lowly, "or we'll do it for you."

Uncertainly, Ivy said, "stop it, Charles, you're being rude."

Charles looked at her with the same disgusted look he'd given her earlier, and told her, "I bet mum and dad are so disappointed in you."

The Potter girl spent until the bell rang desperately fighting off tears, before rushing off to History of Magic with Tracey trailing behind her.