Hi! This is a re-write of my old, unfinished story Messalina, which I started writing when I was 15 and of which I don't believe I was able to give my OCs and J.K. Rowling's characters the story they deserved. With all that's going on with the pandemic, I've revisited this story and have re-fallen in love with it. Please enjoy, I hope you like it as much as I do. Thank you!

In the end, September the first 1971 was one of the worst days of Messalina Lucien's life. She had never seen so many people in one place in her life than she did on the crowded platform - she had been bedridden most of her childhood with scrofungulus, and as her parents' heir, she was treated as though made of glass. The congestion on the platform was making her heart race, and it didn't help that her older cousin and parents were sneering at those who weren't wearing robes. Worrying her bottom lip between her teeth, she gazed around her surroundings, hoping for a familiar face. She knew her cousin, Antonin, would arrange for her to sit with his friends' siblings - her father would kill them both if it got back to him that she had inadvertently sat with a blood traitor or Mudblood - but the idea of being dropped unceremoniously in a compartment with children who all knew one another made her chest constrict.

Her panic only grew as she searched the crowd and could not locate any of her parents' usual guests. The Malfoys were nowhere to be seen despite their stunning blonde hair, so unlike Messalina's dirty blonde locks, and the Yaxleys were similarly absent. She could've done with one of Evan Rosier's smiles that always sent butterflies with her stomach, but the older boy was likely on board with Lucius and the Carrow twins.

She was so lost in her fears that she didn't realize she was wringing her hands until she felt her mother's hand on her shoulder, squeezing hard. The cuffs of her emerald green robes were wrinkling and Messalina smoothed them out before looking up at her mother. Yelena Lucien was a strict woman with a sharp tongue and as they stood amongst the filthy half-bloods and Mudbloods, her nose was wrinkled as though she had smelled something particularly offensive. "Enough, Messalina. Make yourself presentable, the Blacks have arrived."

Messalina ran a hand over her hair, making certain the large silver bow holding her hair out of her face was still properly situated and that the steam from the train had not caused a hair to fall out of place. Once she was sure she looked as put together as an eleven year old on the brink of a nervous breakdown could be, she turned around and peered through the throngs of people for the three Black girls and their parents. But, Cygnus and Druella were nowhere to be seen and Messalina could've sworn she'd seen Bellatrix across the platform earlier. Instead, a skeletal woman in dress robes stitched with gold and a necklace with an emerald the size of a goose egg was making her way towards the Lucien family, a similarly adorned man and two boys about her age following closely after.

"Yelena, how pleasurable to see you again," the woman said as she approached, and Messalina realized that under all the makeup she was wearing, it was Walburga Black, one of her mother's most frequent garden party guests. "We were so sorry to hear about Armand."

"Walburga, Orion, how wonderful to see there are still some appropriate faces around here. This place is going to the dogs, but Armand did not go about it correctly," Messalina's father spoke, his gaze flicking to a dark-haired woman fussing over a boy with glasses that looked like he had never met a hairbrush.

"It appears they'll allow anyone into Hogwarts," the man with Walburga replied, sneering at a family that had to be Muggles judging by the way they were eyeing the Hogwarts Express with genuine awe. "Pathetic."

"We'll see how long this will last," Messalina's mother spoke, offering a rare smile at Walburga. Her hands found Messalina's shoulders and she thrust her daughter in front of the Black family as though she were a prized kneazle. "I'm not sure you've had the pleasure of meeting my daughter yet, Orion, this is Messalina."

"Aren't you a pretty little thing," the man replied and Messalina felt her lips turn upwards despite the feeling that Orion Black was appraising her closely.

"She looks just like you at her age, Yelena," Walburga responded. She opened her mouth to continue, but seemed to remember she had her own children accompanying her and that the taller of the two was gone. "Where is your brother, Regulus?"

The boy that stayed behind shrugged, sinking into himself when Orion turned around and fixed him with a stare. "He got on the train already, Mother, he said he was tired of waiting."

"Please forgive our older son, Sirius," Walburga said, a false smile plastered on her face that made Messalina wonder if that was what she had looked like when Orion called her pretty. "He's very enthusiastic - it's his first year as well. The two of you will doubtlessly become well acquainted in Slytherin together, our House is the only place to make friends."

"I'm sure," Messalina said, praying that Antonin would reemerge from the crowd to take her onto the train. The Blacks standing over her was certainly not helping with her mounting anxiety. She felt like she was on display as their eyes raked over her.

"Uncle Licorous, we ought to get on the train." Antonin must have heard her prayer, for he appeared at her side as a silence fell upon the group. He looked as though he was completely at home and not for the first time, Messalina envied her older cousin. He had gone to Hogwarts with Marius Nott, his best friend from childhood, and Thorfinn Rowle, whose estate was beside the Lucien's Kensington Manor. She didn't have any girl friends to giggle with - she didn't have any friends at all. She knew her mother's friends' older children who had been trusted not to excite the sick girl, but she had been pronounced fit for school by her healer the year before, and her mother had still steadfastly refused her to partake in any gatherings lest she weaken. And so, she watched from her bedroom window at the ornately dressed women touring the gardens, their children playing in the grass and staining their white clothes.

"-I expect a letter in the morning with the good news," her mother was saying and Messalina blinked, realizing she had missed half of her family's goodbyes. "Every Lucien and Dolohov for centuries have been in Slytherin, it wouldn't do for our heir not to be."

"Be good, Messalina," her father said, sounding as though he would prefer to be anywhere but here. Wishing his only child off to boarding school and he sounded bored. She was boring him. Her heart clenched at the thought and she desperately wished she was more like Antonin - despite only living with them for two years, the older boy and her father were thick as thieves. But she didn't play Quidditch - she'd never even been allowed to ride a broom before - and she didn't know any of the people they talked about in their social circle. Maybe that would change now that she was going to Hogwarts. She could talk about her studies and rail against Professor Dumbledore from firsthand knowledge. "Do not forget who you are and what our name means."

"Yes, Father," she replied, looking at him eagerly, but he was already turning to talk to Orion Black. The disappointment stung and Messalina blinked quickly to avoid embarassing herself with juvenile tears. She had never been away from her parents before - she had hardly left their estate except for brief trips to Diagon Alley - and now she was to be shipped off to Scotland where she only knew older children who could not be expected to entertain a first year.

"C'mon, Messalina, let's go," Antonin said, breaking her line of thought, and grabbed her hand. He was a good head taller than her, despite her healer saying she was tall for her age, and she was grateful that he seemed to part the crowd easily, pulling her behind him. The boy with messy hair was trying to get out of his mother's grasp as she peppered him with kisses as a man with glasses laughed and a girl with brilliant red hair was throwing her arms around a man and woman while a sullen girl stood behind them. They were dressed strangely and Messalina blinked as she realized they must be Muggles. Several girls and one boy that looked to also be first years were crying, their faces streaked with tears, as parents soothed them and reassured them. She resented them - they had nothing to cry about, they had family willing to wipe their tears and kiss them goodbye.

Antonin made it to the train, yanking Messalina past compartments filling up with students loudly chattering about their summers as they heaved their trunks into the overhead compartments. Most were wearing clothes like the Muggle family she had seen on the platform, though some had their Hogwarts robes on already. The levels of enthusiasm seemed to sap away as they made their way down the train and the level of awe and excitement on the faces of students gave way into well-dressed students in a variety of green and silver garments. The Slytherins were more reserved, and while some older students in the compartments seemed to be having a good time being reunited, a lot of them seemed deep in serious conversations. It seemed these students were more aware of the political situation Antonin and Messalina's father liked to discuss in-depth, and she heard a few 'Mudbloods' thrown around in conversations as they walked.

They reached a compartment at long last and Antonin slid in, gesturing for Messalina to sit beside him in the window seat. She did as he indicated, sinking onto the bench and glancing out at the platform. Only when she turned her attention back on those in the room with her did she realize that her cousin had not led her to sit amongst children she didn't know, but rather had brought her into his own compartment with what looked like all the third year boys in the Slytherin.

Marius Nott and Thorfinne Rowle appeared to be in a heated debate about whether marrying a Muggle or being born to one was worse, spittle flying from Rowle's mouth as he went on about the filth of permitting a Muggle to learn about magic. A brawny boy with dark hair was polishing his beater's bat with a rag, muttering quidditch terms under his breath that Messalina had heard on the Wizarding Wireless Network when they discussed recaps of the British-Irish league games. A boy that looked rather like a rat was sitting across from her at the window, a thick tome in his lap, but he was staring out into the crowd on the platform and it didn't take long for Messalina to realize he was sneering at the red haired girl she had seen on the platform. Through the open window, Messalina could hear the girl talking about how she wanted her sister to keep her updated on what was going on with their favorite television show and he chuckled under his breath and shook his head. Messalina didn't know what a television was, but whatever it was, it must've been something embarrassing by the way the rat boy was acting.

"My cousin, Messalina, lads," Antonin said after a moment, looking perturbed. Messalina assumed it had to do with the boys not acknowledging him the second he walked into the compartment and she waited with baited breath to see if he would throw a tantrum as he would at home if she didn't immediately attend to him.

"Hello Messalina," Nott and Rowle said in unison before continuing their debate, drawing Antonin into the conversation by asking him if he thought kissing a Muggle was preferable to being on the receiving end of the Cruciatus curse. Antonin went with the Unforgivable and was immediately met with similar responses from the other boys.

"Pollux Parkinson," the boy with the beater's bat said after a moment, looking rather annoyed with the interruption before turning his attention back to the bat.

"Theodore Travers," the rat boy introduced himself, reaching to extend his hand. She shook it, grateful that someone in the compartment hadn't completely ignored her presence. "You're a Lucien, no?"

"Yes," she replied, eager to talk to someone and prove herself to be worthy of the spot her cousin had placed her in.

"Good, we only allow members of the Sacred Twenty-Eight into our group," he explained, sticking out his chest and smirking.

"Oi, Dolohov's not on the list!" Rowle exclaimed, smirking at Antonin, who merely rolled his eyes.

"Sacred Twenty-Eight is British families only, Rowle, how many times do I have to tell you that before it gets through your thick skull? The Dolohovs are on the Russian Unsullied Eleven list."

"We made an exception for your cousin out of respect for our international brethren," Travers murmured, leaning forward to make himself heard as Antonin and Thorfinn started yelling at each other about which list was better and more accurate. "We don't need an exception for you. The Lucien name remains untainted by filth."

Not knowing what to say to that, Messalina nodded and was thankful when the train lurched into action and she was spared from responding as Travers opened his book. Moste Potent Potions she read on the cover and she was grateful she could at least bring up some of the material in the book if Travers returned his attention to her. She had spent years reading her father's books - particularly the ones he was not supposed to own legally - and figured being bedridden meant she at least had a leg up on many of the other students. History of Magic would be easy at least, she supposed, considering she had read all the related texts the previous year during a particularly nasty flare up.

Messalina was grateful for the window seat her cousin had secured for her as she spent much of the next several hours staring at the scenery and listening to the boys in the compartment talk about which girls they wanted to be paired up with, which families deserved to be killed for associating with Muggles, and which professors should be tortured for favoring students from other Houses. The loud conversations took wild turns, for which she was glad for for several reasons. First, it kept her from wishing she had been as smart as Travers and brought some reading material. She would have to make a note of that for future train rides if she didn't make any friends worth talking with for several hours. Second, it got her acquainted with all the students and families she wanted to avoid lest she incur the wrath of her family or embarrass herself. She was also learning which professors to lean into the Lucien name - Slughorn - and which to avoid making angry - McGonagall.

And most importantly, it kept her from retreating into her thoughts. She had spent much of the last year with fear gnawing on her stomach and had had many a sleepless night fretting over what would happen to her if she wasn't in Slytherin. Sure, there had been a couple eccentric Luciens who had been in Ravenclaw and one pair of sisters who had ended up in Hufflepuff, but no Dolohov that had attended Hogwarts over Durmstrang had ever been sorted into anything but Slytherin. Never had an heir been a non-Slytherin, not even the ones that had been blasted off the tapestry in their grand dining room. She wasn't brave - she knew that much. She cowered when Antonin came after her and cried when her father brought out the cane. She ran when her mother turned her wand on her and had once hidden in their house elf's cupboard to avoid Yelena, which had only amplified her punishment. There was little doubt in her mind that she was a coward, but nothing plagued her like the fear of the Sorting Hat placing her in the wrong house by accident. Her mother had assured her the Sorting Hat never made mistakes, and thus Messalina would be in Slytherin as a Lucien and a Dolohov, but she had woken up in a cold sweat from a nightmare too many times to not consider it some sort of premonition.

Just as she started to get worked up over the thought of being placed in Gryffindor, she was saved from continuing down that train of thought by the door to the compartment slamming open. Jerking her head from the window, Messalina smiled at the sight of several older Slytherins standing outside the compartment. Head Boy Lucius Malfoy had his arm slung around fifth year Narcissa Black's waist, the pair looking like they belonged on the cover of Witch Weekly with their perfect blonde hair and fine robes. Bellatrix Black was with her fiancé Rodolphus, looking far too close for a couple that had been forced by their parents to pledge to stay virgins until they were married the following summer. Messalina was surprised Andromeda was nowhere to be seen, but was nonplussed to see Rabastan Lestrange was shoving a pumpkin pasty down his mouth, crumbs falling over his Hogwarts robes.

It was Evan Rosier that Messalina smiled at, for the effortlessly handsome sixth year was the one who had flung the compartment door open, and was currently grinning at her. Messalina had always found Evan to be her favorite of the other pureblood children she met, though she may have been biased towards him as he was one of the few who was interested in speaking with her on the occasion she was allowed to attend a dinner party with another family. Andromeda Black was similarly kind to her, but she didn't smile in a way that made Messalina's heart race or her palms sweat.

"How's it going, Messalina?" He asked, ignoring a brunette girl that had come down the corridor in Hufflepuff robes and was actively trying to get through the gaggle of Slytherins blocking the way and refusing to move an inch. "Excited to see the Common Room?"

"Yeah," she breathed, once she remembered to after hearing Evan say her name like that. Messalina. It was enough make any girl swoon. "How are you?"

"Ready for another year of...learning," he responded, though the way he turned to grin at Lucius and Rodolphus made Messalina think his mind was far from the books. Probably on politics and girls. "Listen, we'd better get back to our compartment, I'll see you at dinner, yeah?"

The rest of train ride went quickly as she daydreamed about her interaction with Evan and how it was going to be a much more regular occurrence now that she was going to be in his House. He'd offered earlier in the summer to help her with any of her classes, claiming they all seemed much easier now that he was in his sixth year. She thought about him tutoring her, all his attention focused on her, and she felt her heart soar. Maybe she didn't have anything to worry about. Maybe sweet and kind Evan would realize she was worthy of one day marrying. She wouldn't mind marrying someone who had always been so friendly, and she certainly didn't think her parents would object to his family. Everything was going to be okay, there was nothing to worry about, not when Evan Rosier was willing to stop by her compartment just to say hi.

She couldn't have been more wrong, or so she thought as she stood in the group of first years assembled in the Great Hall. Her stomach was churning uncomfortably, feeling as though she had swallowed a snitch, as she waited for the Sorting Hat to finish its song so she could get this over with. She knew she was being silly fearing she wouldn't end up in Slytherin and that soon she could tell Evan about how embarrassed she was to think the Hat would or could make a mistake, but now as she stood with her knees shaking ever so slightly, it felt very possible.

"Black, Sirius," was called and she turned her attention from staring at her shoes to the front of the Great Hall. Here, she assured herself, she could watch the rude Black boy from earlier get sorted into Slytherin like all the Blacks before him, and then her stomach could settle down that the Hat didn't make mistakes. There was no way someone from the Ancient and Noble House would end up anywhere but Slytherin, the idea was quite preposterous. Once he reached his cousins at the table, she would be able to relax and stop feeling like she was going to throw up all over the floor.

"GRYFFINDOR!" The Hat yelled and Messalina thought she was going to faint. She gasped for air, her eyes bulging from her head as she stared in awe at the boy smiling and running to join the Gryffindor table amid claps and shouts. She blinked rapidly, certain she had fathomed the scene from her mind panicking over something that couldn't happen. But, at the Slytherin table, the Blacks looked shocked beyond belief and her eyes darted to Malfoy who looked the cool picture of distaste and Evan who looked murderous. Messalina stumbled back, stepping directly into another first year who steadied her on her feet and asked if she was alright.

She couldn't answer, her mouth had gone completely dry and she was certain if the boy removed his hands from her arms she would collapse. She looked up at him with wide eyes, certain he saw nothing but the panic and fear a deer would have moments before it was run down by a thestral-drawn carriage.

"Are you alright?" He repeated quietly as 'Cane, Abigail' approached the stool. He looked genuinely concerned and she blinked at him before taking a deep breath and steading herself. Her heart was beating so fast she thought she was going to pass out.

"That was a mistake," she whispered back, her voice sounding raw. She was going to cry, she realized with a start, and exhaled every bit of air in her lungs. Biting her cheek as hard as she could, she forced herself to refocus on where she was. A girl of the Lucien family - motto Above All Others - could not be seen lessening herself and crying. Clearing her throat, Messalina stepped away from the boy and turned her attention back to the front of the from, or at least looked towards the Sorting Hat as 'Edgecomb, Cora' took the spot.

The Black boy had looked happy when he had been sorted, she told herself, trying desperately to find a way to rationalize what had just happened. She didn't want to be in Gryffindor, she had never wanted anything more than to be in Slytherin and to never have to worry about her worth again. Feeling slightly soothed, she looked over at the Slytherin table. Antonin was staring at her, an angry look she knew all too well etched on his face, and she swallowed harshly.

"Lucien, Messalina," the professor called suddenly and Messalina blinked. How it could have possibly been her time already, she did not know, but she steeled herself and approached the front of the room on shaking legs. It seemed to take forever to get there, the chair and the woman holding the hat seemed to be miles away despite her strides. She sank onto the stool, all too aware that all the eyes in the hall were fixed on her and many didn't look very happy to see her. It didn't take an expert to figure out why - just three weeks earlier her father's brother Armand had been sentenced to the Dementor's Kiss for killing eighteen muggle children at a primary school. The Dolohov side was certainly no better, but the name wasn't as connected to hers and she wondered for the first time what the school thought of the son of two known Death Eaters who were Azkaban for life. She already knew what they'd think of her.

The Sorting hat was placed on her head, obstructing her view of most the of students and she was grateful to not feel such anger directed at her anymore.

Thanking me, eh? a voice in her ear whispered and she jumped ever so slightly. A Lucien? Are you sure? I've never seen one like this before. Not in a Dolohov either. Such potential. You want Slytherin? Of course you do, but there's such potential here. So much potential. Difficult. Very difficult. A sharp mind but no eccentricity, no individuality. You'd rather follow in the footsteps of your family. Too competitive, not very patient. I see a certain level of bravery, but so much potential. A perfect lineage of Slytherins, but I'm not sure it's for you. Very difficult. It'll have to beGRYFFINDOR!"

She couldn't move. White noise was all she could hear and her limps felt as though they weighed a hundred pounds. She could scarcely breathe, her lungs ached and she was growing hotter with each passing second. She felt the hat be lifted off her head and got a glimpse of the Great Hall again. Her cousin was on his feet, his face turning such an astonishing shade of red and Nott was tugging on his arm to get him to sit back down. She couldn't see anyone applauding apart from a few younger students who must not have had access to the two page spread about her family the Daily Prophet had done the last week and a couple older students in Hufflepuff who looked determined not to make any assumptions. But there was plenty of whispering at each of the tables.

"Professor, there's been a mistake," she whispered when the professor looked down at her, her mouth drawn into a thin line and her eyebrows furrowed. It was the look of someone struggling to look professional but on the brink of failing. "I belong in Slytherin."

"Miss Lucien, there's been no mistake, please make your way to the table," the professor said, not unkindly, and Messalina somehow managed to get onto her feet. She must've hesitated, because the professor gave her a small push, and she made her way towards the Gryffindor table. Her heart was in her throat, tears threatening to burst, and she refused to look at the Slytherin table until she was certain she wouldn't collapse. Behind her, 'Lupin, Remus' was called but the eyes in the hall didn't turn from her until she staggered to the unoccupied end of the Gryffindor table and practically fell onto the bench.

Knowing her face was as red as Antonin's had been, she lifted her head slightly to see that the Slytherin table was still facing her. Her cousin had sat back down, likely tugged down onto the bench by Nott or Rowle who were on either side of him, but there was such rage on his face that she flinched. She recognized that look, but it was contorted even further than it had when his parents had been carted off to Azkaban just before his first year. Trying desperately to convey to him that she had not asked to be put in the house of blood traitors, Messalina knew she was failing. Turning to where she had seen Evan earlier, Messalina saw him staring at her. His look was much harder to decipher than her cousin's had been, but she got the gist. Disappointment. Disgust. Disregard. Her fantasies of him tutoring her shattered. He would never want to see her or talk to her. She was a disgrace. And she was quite certain her parents would treat her like one.

Presumably, the feast was a success, but Messalina could not remember anything about it. It felt as though she had sat down, stared at the plates and utensils for a few moments, and then a prefect was leading her down the corridors. Her feet felt disconnected from the rest of her body and it almost felt as if someone else had her under Imperio because she certainly wasn't capable of casually walking right now. She still felt like she was going to throw up any second, and the cold sweat coating her skin wasn't helping with the queasiness. She knew decorum required her to speak to the other first years in her House that were walking with her, but she also knew polite society didn't include this House. Didn't include her. She thought she might choke.

"Hi, I'm Lily by the way," a voice chirped with level of excitement Messalina wasn't sure she'd ever felt. Turning, Messalina saw it was the red haired girl Travers had been sneering at on the platform as she said goodbye to her family. She looked so happy to be there, so proud to be placed in Gryffindor that Messalina almost felt as though it was a cruel joke.

"Hello. I'm Messalina Lucien," she replied slowly, unsure of what was expected of her in this interaction. She'd never thought she'd be in this position, no one had told her what to do.

"It's nice to meet you!" The girl said, smiling so brilliantly Messalina could do nothing but stare in surprise. The staircase they were on jolted suddenly as it adjusted to another corridor, and Lily jumped, grabbing Messalina's hand to steady herself. "I'm muggleborn, hopefully I'll get used to this soon!"

Muggleborns weren't supposed to be kind, they weren't supposed to just admit to something so shameful, and they certainly weren't supposed to be pretty. Messalina's parents had made them sound like trolls. She shifted uncomfortably, choosing to focus on the back of the boy in front of her's head instead of the girl beside him.

"Oi! Lucien!" A boy's voice from somewhere behind her called, and Messalina flinched. She turned, certain she was about to see someone come to hex her, but instead was greeted with the sight of Sirius Black, grinning at her as though they had been life long friends rather. He made his way up to where she and Lily were standing together, another boy following closely after. "I gotta say I didn't picture you as another defector from pureblood purity but it's good to see I'm not the only one fed up with that bullshit."

"I didn't ask to be placed in Gryffindor," she replied, careful not to say anything that would upset her family if it got back to them nor lead those currently standing around her to pitch her over the side of the staircase. "This wasn't some grand plan."

"Even better," he laughed, turning to the boy behind him. Messalina recognized him as the boy with the unmanageable hair from the platform, who her father had gestured towards when he said Hogwarts was going to the dogs. "This is James Potter, I met him on the train."

Messalina nodded at him, thankful for the interruption to their conversation that came when the staircase finally stopped at another floor and the prefect began leading down a corridor. Her relief was short-lived, however, when Sirius and James caught up with her and Lily, who was gazing up at the portraits with her mouth open and eyes wide.

"Who do you think is madder, your cousin or mine?" Sirius asked as they fell in line with the two girls. He said it in such a casual, light-hearted tone that Messalina thought it had to be some sort of joke. She certainly wasn't feeling carefree.

"I'm not sure anyone will be happy with what happened tonight," she replied diplomatically, wishing the troublesome boy would just disappear. He was doing nothing but reminding her of the anger that would certainly be directed at her in the morning when word got back to her parents that she had embarrassed the family. The knot that was her stomach tightened painfully.

"You're with friends, you don't have to talk like that, you know," Sirius replied, looking back at James who Messalina noted was staring at Lily. She must've felt the eyes on her, for she turned around and fixed both boys with a stern expression.

"Can't you tell she doesn't want to talk to you right now?" Lily said suddenly, and Messalina felt a sudden rush of affection and gratitude towards the girl. But guilt soon filled her as she contemplated what her family would think of her caring for a Muggleborn. But on the other hand, if she was in for a penny, maybe she could be in for a pound. This Lily girl did seem nice enough, and Messalina was rather eager to make some friends of her own. To have someone to confide in, to share things she couldn't tell her family or that her family wouldn't be interested in, and to just sit with in a companionable silence. She'd seen her mother speaking her closest friends many a time at garden parties, never trading secrets about themselves but peddling gossip as though it was their job. They would laugh, throwing their heads back and drinking glass after glass of firewhisky and wine until they staggered to the Floo and went home and Yelena Lucien shut herself in her chambers for the rest of the day.

"I think I'm in love," James said, fawning as he looked at Lily's stern face. Lily groaned loudly in frustration, her face growing red and clashing terribly with her hair. When James opened his mouth to reply, she huffed and, much to Messalina's surprise, she grabbed her hand and led Messalina away from the boys and spend up until they reached the rest of the Gryffindor first years.

"I can't believe them," Lily grumbled as they rejoined the rest of the group. "Boys can be so thick sometimes, I'm sorry they're being obnoxious."

Messalina nodded, pleased to be away from Sirius Black and his insinuations that she had asked to be in Gryffindor. The idea was laughable. Their rejoining of the group and Lily's murmured grievances seemed to have attracted the attention of the two other boys that had been sorted into their House, whose names Messalina had no clue of considering they had been sorted after she had fallen stricken into her spot at the end of the table. She recognized taller and thinner of the two as the boy whose feet she had stomped on as they waited to be sorted and who had asked her if she was alright. He gave her a sympathetic look but seemed to know better than to say anything and she felt herself flush with embarrassment and quickly turned her gaze from him to the pudgy boy beside him with the watery eyes. He appeared much less sure of Messalina and she watched as he sped up slightly.

"Hi, I'm Lily Evans and this is Messalina!" She could have kissed the redhead for breaking the uncomfortable staring contest the four of them were engaged in. She seemed to be racking up quite a debt to the girl already on the walk to the Common Room alone.

"Remus, nice to meet you both," the taller boy replied, nodding at both of them.

"Peter Pettigrew," the other boy piped up, offering the girls a small smile. "Are you from a wizarding family, Lily?"

Messalina noticed the question was not aimed at her, though she couldn't blame Peter for avoiding the topic, instead she was rather relieved. It was certainly something she'd probably prefer to not to discuss lest her new Housemates shun her. She doubted they knew a lot of people whose family members had butchered an entire primary school classroom.

"No, I'm muggleborn. I was so excited to get my letter!" Lily exclaimed. Messalina was glad the girl launched into a conversation about getting letters and if their parents were muggles or witches and wizards and what they were excited to learn about and the excitement of the day. She was more exhausted than she had ever felt and chose to simply nod and make a noise of acknowledgement every so often, half listening as Remus explained his dad was from a wizarding family but his mother was a Muggle. Peter had a similar backstory, a witch for a mother and a muggleborn wizard for a father. Messalina wondered blankly what her parents would think of her walking in a pack of Gryffindor students with a muggleborn and two half-bloods. Her with magical blood that could be traced back to before 1400 on both sides. She had a feeling she knew exactly what her parents reactions would be.

They stopped outside a portrait of a very large woman in a pink silk dress and Messalina glanced around, expecting to see some sort of door marked 'Gryffindor Common Room'. There was nothing of the sort as far as she could see, and she paid close attention as the prefect greeted the woman in the portrait and turned to face the gaggle of first years that had stopped behind her, explaining that students need to tell the Fat Lady, which was a rather rude name in Messalina's opinion, the password (Fortuna major was to be the password for the next fortnight) and she would swing open and let them inside the Common Room. Feeling foolish that she hadn't assumed there would be something as magical as that, Messalina followed Lily into the Common Room.

It was about as different from Lucien Manor as she could have possibly imagined. Her home was styled after the Slytherin Common Room, with green and silver predominantly featured in each room alongside at least one sculpture or portrait of a snake, ancestor, or crest. It left for a stylish and elegant home, however, it had a much different feel than the room she currently stood in. There was a roaring fire and half a dozen stuffed red armchairs that Messalina imagined would be quite nice to lounge in and read a book. There were golden chandeliers hanging from the ceiling that glowed in the candle light and a massive portrait of a lion hung on the fireplace mantle. The circular room's walls were covered in large windows and scarlet tapestries with witches, wizards, and animals. The room looked extremely comfortable, and Messalina couldn't help thinking it felt much homier and cosier than her actual home. For however long it remained her home at least.

As she stood in the center of the room with the rest of the first years, listening to the prefect explain House rules and where all the dormitories were and who to ask for help, she felt eyes on her. Turning her head, she saw three rather burly boys that looked to be a year or two older than her staring at her with such intensity, she would've thought she had grown a second head if she didn't know why they were looking. She flushed, turning back to look at the prefect and hoping no one would confront her when she was already having one of the worst days of her life.

"And boys are strictly forbidden from going up the girls' staircase and actually are completely rendered unable to by..." the prefect explaining, gesturing to the staircases behind her before trailing off and staring at something behind the group in front of her. The first years turned in unison to see the largest of the three boys Messalina had seen earlier standing directly behind her, staring down at her. His hands were clenched in fists and she forced herself not to step backwards. If she was going to be surrounded by Gryffindors all the time, she should probably act like she deserved to be there. She stared back at him in what she hoped was a cool and unbothered manner, but she couldn't be sure because she was fairly certain the entire room could hear her heart beating. Not only because it was about to pound out of her chest, but also because the room had gone deathly silent and she could only hear her own breathing, the crackling of the fire, and her heart.

"Muggle killers don't belong in this House," the boy said after what felt like an eternity and Messalina swallowed.

"I've never killed a muggle." She didn't know how she kept her voice from wavering as she spoke, but she was rather confident it wouldn't stay that way when she had to respond to his next taunt.

"Gryffindor is the House of the brave, not those who cower under masks and kill children. You don't belong here."

"That's not what the Sorting Hat said." For a brief moment, Messalina thought she had gone quite mad. She hadn't said anything, and yet someone was sticking up for her. She didn't know anyone in Gryffindor except the couple of first years she had met on the way here and the voice had sounded distantly different than any of them. The owner was older, more masculine than the eleven year old boys standing around her.

"I didn't realize it took a lot of bravery to bully an ickle first year, McLaggen," a second voice chimed in and Messalina felt her mouth drop open but she was powerless to move. She couldn't have closed her mouth if her life depended on it.

"Guess we have a different definition of bravery," the first voice said and Messalina swung to see a pair of identical boys leaning against either side of the fireplace, looking as casual and relaxed as could be. Their flaming red hair contrasted quite poorly with the crimson of the wall behind them and their robes were clearly secondhand judging by the awkward fit on their lanky builds, but Messalina had never seen such angels. They were standing up for her, a complete and utter stranger they knew absolutely nothing about.

"Do you even know who this is? Who you're standing up for?" The boy, evidently McLaggen, asked, sounding shocked to have faced opposition from other Gryffindors. "Her uncle killed eighteen children!"

"I see a scared first year girl getting picked on by a fourth year boy five times her size," the twin on the side farther from Messalina said, pushing away from the fireplace and standing to full height. He was still trying hard to look nonchalant, but Messalina would've bet everything she had that his hand was tightly clutching his wand in his pocket.

"Tell me, does it take a lot of bravery to make assumptions about someone based on where they come from? Seems like a Slytherin trait to me, maybe you're the one in the wrong House," the other twin stated, gesturing to the portrait hole. "I suggest you either go back to your equally dim-witted, prejudiced friends or you go find out if Slytherin will take you in."

McLaggen tensed beside Messalina and for a split second she thought he was going to hex her into oblivion before taking on the two twins. Instead, to her immense relief, he turned on his heel and stalked back to his friends, but not before throwing a dirty look at the twins standing by the fireplace. It was as though the whole House had let out a collective breath, she noted, as people started to talk again and the twins resumed whatever they had been doing with their friends at the fireplace. The prefect wrapped up her spiel quickly, looking rattled, and released the first years to go explore the Common Room and dormitories, urging them to get to breakfast early tomorrow to get their timetables from Professor McGonagall.

"Let's go check out the dorm!" Lily said, the other girls nodding enthusiastically behind her, eager to discover what their new room would look like. If it was anything as cosy as the Common Room, Messalina was certain she would love it. But she couldn't go up just yet with the rest of them, she needed to have a word with the twins who seemed to have exemplified Gryffindor courage when the rest of the House had been quiet and she told Lily as much. Lily nodded, glancing at McLaggen, who was sulking with his equally burly friends, before joining the other girls who were waiting by the mahogany staircase.

Taking a deep breath and trying to imitate some of the fearlessness the twins had shown earlier, she approached the fireplace. The pair were setting up a game of wizards chess with a rather beat up set, bickering about who would get which color and how come Molly had gotten a new board for her birthday when she wasn't nearly as passionate as they were.

"Excuse me," she said, her voice coming out meeker then she had hoped it would. Messalina was just thinking she would need to say it again when they turned and looked at her, their surprise evident on their faces. "I just wanted to say thank you, you didn't have to do that. You don't even know me."

"It's not that hard to do the right thing sometimes," the twin sitting closer to her said, smiling at her. "Besides Gryffindor is for the brave, we've got a reputation to maintain."

"Besides, we can't have a first year getting bullied by her own House, it's a dangerous precedent," the other one replied, reaching a hand out. "I'm Gideon Prewett, by the way and that's my uglier half Fabian."

"Don't be ridiculous, Gideon, we all know I'm your better half," Fabian said, shaking her hand when Gideon released her. "Don't worry about the rest of the House, they'll come along. It was just a surprise I reckon."

"It was wrong," Gideon said, looking rather perturbed for a moment before glancing around the Common Room. "Look, I bet you're dying to see what the dorms are like and to meet the other girls in your year. How about you go up to bed and try to forget about shit for brains McLaggen. He's a prat."

"I really appreciate it," she emphasized, surprised by how fond she was growing of the pair. "No one's ever done that for me before."

"Sit with us at breakfast tomorrow, we'll give you the some rather genius insider tips on your classes. We are second years after all, we know our way around this place," Fabian said, nodding his head towards the staircase. "Go get some sleep, you look exhausted."

Messalina nodded at both of them again, turned to walk away, but then she spun back around as though she was under Imperio because she certainly didn't feel like she in control of her body, and she grinned at the pair. It was an odd feeling, she didn't know the last time she had felt so reassured and she said one last thanks before clambering up the stairs to her dormitory. Thankfully, she remembered what the prefect had said about which side of the stairs was hers as well as which room was for the first years - the lowest level as the seventh years got the highest floor and thus the best view of the grounds.

Pushing open the door to the dormitory, she was pleased to see the other girls had already gone to bed, apparently today was exhausting to girls other than her. Lily was still up though, toothbrush hanging out of her mouth as she dug around in her trunk for what Messalina imagined were her pajamas.

"I saved you a spot next to mine," Lily whispered through a mouth full of toothpaste, pointing at one of the beds next to the door and Messalina giggled as Lily raced to spit it out as it dribbled down her chin. She returned just as Messalina located her trunk and opened it, marveling at how all of the clothes her family had sent her with that weren't her school robes were green, black, silver, and white. Probably wouldn't go over well in Gryffindor. "The other girls are really nice too, unlike that toerag downstairs. I can't believe him!"

Messalina could do nothing but nod, her exhaustion seeming to almost triple now that she was standing inches away from what looked like a plush mattress and a comfortable duvet. Lily seemed to sense it and didn't mention McLaggen again, just whispered her goodnights and climbed into bed, pulling the curtains around the bed. Messalina got ready for bed in a haze, barely cognizant of anything until she climbed into bed and nearly moaned at how comfortable the bed was. It was exactly what she needed after a long day.

As she drifted off, she knew one thing: she was royally screwed with her family, but perhaps her House wouldn't be so bad if she had Lily and the Prewetts with her.