It was fourth year. Urgh. Another year of torture by her classmates and teachers, another year of sneers and jeers. From everyone. Selene Fox sat alone in her own compartment on the Hogwarts Express. People made a point to avoid her, even squeezing 12 people into one compartment if it meant she was alone. Whatever. It wasn't like she cared. It gave her time to think. Selene thought back to previous years...
She was in first year, nervously riding the train. She came to a compartment that was empty, except for 2 boys. She opened the door.
"May I sit here?" she asked shyly. "Everywhere else is full."
The boys nodded their assent and she sat down, reached into her travel bag, and got out a book and a little chocolate to calm her nerves. She offered some to the boys, but they refused. The boys started talking about the magical vs muggle world, and a game called quidditch. She quietly eavesdropped, wishing she could talk to them. Finally, she got up the courage.
"Excuse me," she asked tentatively, "but what happens if a player, say, breaks their arm in the middle of a game?"
The boys looked surprised.
"Well, the game keeps going. The player has to tough it out."
"That sounds terrible! In the muggle world, they send a replacement!"
That started a conversation, and Selene was pretty sure she'd made some potential friends.
She was in first year. The boats had left without her, and so had the carriages. She'd had to run to Hogwarts, getting her shoes, robes, and bag muddy. She'd walked into the Great Hall panting. The Sorting was about to end.
"Ah," said a man up at the high table, "Ms. Fox. so glad you could join us."
"I'm sorry sir. The boats and carriages left without me. I had to run here."
"Well, it's time for you to get Sorted."
Selene sat on the stool, a patchy old hat sitting on her head. It considered her for quite a while, then finally yelled out 'SLYTHERIN!'
The entire hall stared at her. She had had the longest sorting in Hogwarts history, at 10 minutes and 47 seconds.
She was in first year, asking a girl, Hermione Granger, for help after a Charms lesson. She'd had some trouble with the spell, and asking for help seemed the best option. She'd asked, but one of the boys on the train, who Selene had learned was Ron Weasley, overheard.
"Look! The mudblood is asking the know-it-all mudblood for help!"
"Well I'd rather be a mudblood then a sodding pureblood prat who gets help for free, but rejects it!"
Ron looked at her, then punched her in the eye. Selene looked at Professor Snape, who watched the entire time.
"Five points from Slytherin for insulting a schoolmate."
Hermione looked stunned. But she managed out: "Yes. yes I'll help you. It's all about the pronunciation, but first let's get you to the hospital wing…"
By that afternoon, Selene had mastered it, but now people knew they could pick one her. No one would ever stand up for the Mudblood Slytherin.
She was in first year, at the End of Year feast. At the last moment, using blatant favoritism, Dumbledore, the headmaster, appointed Gryffindor extra points. The rest of Slytherin glared at her like it was her fault.
She was in second year. There was a sodding idiot teacher, and Selene had refused to take his quiz. She went to Professor McGonagall, who, if not nice, was at least fair.
"Twenty points from Slytherin."
She was in second year. People thought she was evil after she'd understood what Potter had said at the dueling club. They at least left her alone. That was a plus.
She was in second year. It turned out she wasn't the Heir of Slytherin, but no one apologized for how they'd treated her. No one. She was utterly alone.