A/N: Okay I had to fix a couple grammer mistakes in this chapter and reload it. Again, I hope you all enjoy the beginning! I know it may seem a little slow, but I'm just trying to set up the story. It will get better, I promise! And the story does not follow HBP and DH, but I am making Snape the DADA teacher and bringing in Slughorn. Please R&R! Your comments are extremely helpful!

Chapter 1: Enough

"Delaire."

The voice drifted through my mind faintly.

"Delaire."

I stirred a little, inhaling deeply. The voice sounded a little agitated.

"Delaire!"

More sounds pressed through my mental haze. Whispers; snickers; the rustling of clothes. Where was I? My eyebrows pulled together and my memory slowly pushed to the front of my mind. I had been sitting in Defense Against the Dark Arts, listening to Professor Snape drone on about nonverbal defensive spells. I remembered slumping down in my seat, resting my head on my arms on the table, my eyes fighting to stay open. I had been up extremely late the night before working on homework and therefore hadn't gotten much sleep. And listening to Snape's monotonous voice had added to my sleepiness. So. . . that meant I was in my DADA class.

SLAM!

I gasped and sat up fast, my eyes immediately going to the hand that had just smacked down on the table near where my head had just been. Swallowing a wave of panic, I trailed my eyes up the cloaked arm attached to the hand and met the cold, angry glare of the teacher. The other students in the class were watching intently, waiting to see what he would do. I mentally slapped myself for falling asleep in class.

"Miss Delaire, forgive me if my lecture is not riveting enough to keep you awake. Perhaps a demonstration is needed to keep your attention," Snape said, clearly annoyed. "Stand, now."

Heat crawled up my neck to my face as I slowly stood and moved to the front of the class where he was pointing to. I didn't dare meet the eyes of my classmates. I hated being the center of attention, and I really wanted to just hex myself for letting this happen.

"Zabini, you come up here as well."

My entire body went cold. Not a Slytherin. And not him.

Zabini smirked and pushed himself up, walking to the front of the class and taking the spot Snape pointed him to. He seemed completely careless as he assessed me, sizing me up, the ghost of a smirk still on his lips. His hand slipped into his robes and he withdrew his wand.

I mimicked his movements, my hand quivering as I gripped my own wand. My gaze met my opponent's, and for a moment I forgot how to breath because I was so nervous. His face no longer held a hint of a smirk. Instead it was unreadable. But his dark eyes were alight with pure amusement. He, and the rest of the Slytherins in the class no doubt, were thoroughly enjoying this. Not only because I was a Gryffindor being bullied by Snape. Not only because I was a muggle-born going up against a pureblood. But because they all loved to watch me squirm, because I usually never stood up for myself. And that made me an easy target.

"Wands at the ready," Snape commanded, "and bow."

Zabini and I did as we were told, though I noticed he didn't bend into a full bow, only half of one, showing that he did not respect me as an opponent. I clenched my jaw, annoyed.

"Begin," Snape said, stepping back. "And remember, no verbal spells."

I held my wand out, watching Zabini's face in the hopes of catching him when he cast the first spell. His nostrils flared, and I took that as my cue.

Protego! I screamed in my mind, and a protective barrier instantly appeared before me. And just in time. A red light shot from the tip of Zabini's wand at the exact same moment, and collided with the shield. Both vanished. Before I could react, his nostrils flared again and a blue light streaked at me from his wand. Instinctively, I ducked, the light missing my ear by an inch. Expelliarmus! I thought loudly, sending a red blast of light in his direction. He blocked it easily, and sent another spell at me immediately.

Only this time I wasn't quick enough.

It hit me square in the chest, sending me flying backwards onto my arse and skidding across the floor into the wall. I groaned painfully when my back and head connected with the hard stone and the air was knocked out of my lungs.

Jeers and clapping filled the room, mostly from the Slytherins. Slowly, I lifted my head and looked at my opponent. His lips were curled into a triumphant smirk and he walked back to his seat, head held high.

"Very good," Snape said, nodding his head in approval. I'd bet fifty galleons that he was only praising Zabini, and not both of us. He glared down at me. "Get back to your seat, Delaire."

I hurried out of the classroom when the bell rang, feeling like a bludger had crashed into my head at full speed. I'd had a headache ever since Zabini had sent me flying onto my arse. Of course, the rotten Slytherins had been snickering the rest of the class. Bloody prats.

"Kylie!"

I closed my eyes briefly and then turned, smiling. "Yeah?"

"Are you alright?" Hermione asked worriedly.

I shrugged nonchalantly. "Yeah. Just have a headache."

Hermione shook her head. "You hit the wall hard. You sure you're okay?"

"Really, I'm fine," I insisted as Zabini strolled by with his group of friends from class.

"Pathetic mudbloods," Draco Malfoy laughed as he passed, causing the group to cackle with him.

"Rotten scumbags," I mumbled when I figured they were far enough away not to hear.

Too bad I was wrong.

"What was that, Delaire?" Malfoy asked, whipping around to face me.

"You heard her, Malfoy," Harry Potter said, coming up next to Hermione with Ron Weasley. "She called you lot rotten scumbags."

Malfoy's eyes narrowed at me. "If you know what's good for you, you'll keep your mouth shut from now on."

"Shove off, Malfoy," Ron snarled.

"This conversation is between me and her, Weasel, so stay out of it," Malfoy snapped.

Harry and Ron both opened their mouths to respond, but I cut them off. "Guys, leave it alone and keep walking, okay?" From the corner of my eye, I saw Zabini and Malfoy smirk at the three Gryffindors. "I'll see you in the common room later," I added, trying to urge them to go on ahead. Malfoy was right, this was between me and the Slytherins. The Golden Trio didn't need to get involved. Merlin knew that Harry didn't need another row with the gits, especially the blond one. After a few moments, the three nodded and continued down the hallway, glaring at the Slytherins as they went.

"How's the head, Delaire?" Zabini asked cheerfully when the Golden Trio was far enough down the hall.

"Just peachy," I replied coldly, ducking my head and trying to continue down the hall. But someone's foot got in my way and I tripped, falling flat on my face. The bloody pricks around me howled with laughter before strutting away.

I lifted my head and watched them go, hot anger boiling under my skin. That. Was. It. I was sick of being bullied and laughed at. I was sick of being the easy target. Next time one of them decided to fuck with me, I would match them head on.