Dedicated to Marie_jkkkkkkk

     "Lily? Lily?" a voice called, and I bolted upright, breathing hard as my eyes darted frantically around the small room.

     "Easy now, you're alright," Professor Lupin said, sitting across from me on the floor and offering me something wrapped in tinfoil. "Here, eat this. It'll help. It's alright. It's chocolate."

     I accepted the chocolate with a shaking hand and took a small bite, the sweet confection melting on my tongue and warming my heart. Needless to say, my uncle had never allowed me to indulge in such treats. Looking around, I found Harry sitting next to me, while Hermione and Ron stood overhead, all with their brows furrowed in concern.

     "What was that thing...t-that came?" I asked, glancing toward the door and fearing I would conjure the hooded demon simply by acknowledging its existence.

     "It was a dementor, one of the guards of Azkaban," Lupin explained, helping me onto the booth. "It's gone now. It was searching the train for Sirius Black. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to have a little word with the driver. Eat, you'll feel better."

     Lupin gathered his things and gave me the rest of the chocolate bar, which I nibbled on as I watched him leave. He was right. It did make me feel better.

     When the compartment door closed behind him, I turned to the trio and asked, "What happened?"

     "Well, you sort of went rigid," Ron explained, frowning. "W-We thought maybe you were having a fit or something."

     My face flushed with embarrassment, "And—and did any of you...you know...pass out?"

     Weasley shook his head, "No. I felt weird, though. Like I'd never be cheerful again."

     "But someone was screaming. A woman," I insisted. "Surely, one of you must've heard her."

     Even as Harry opened his mouth to speak, Hermione shook her head, "No one was screaming."

     I scowled, knowing full-well that I had, indeed, heard a woman's voice calling my name. After stepping into a private compartment to change into my school uniform, I spent the rest of the train ride in silence, watching the legion of raindrops wage a futile war against the window. Once we had arrived at our destination, I bid the trio farewell and joined the other first years, feeling quite ridiculous as I shuffled amongst the children a head shorter than myself.

     My self-consciousness was quickly forgotten, however, when I laid eyes upon Hogwarts for the first time. When I had first come to the school with Lucius, I had traveled by Floo Powder, and had thus never seen it from the outside. Windows glowed warmly throughout the stone castle – for that was the only way it could be described – which featured buttresses, spiraling staircases, and bridges connecting the many towering turrets.

     As we made our way into the castle, I quickly realized the interior was equally as impressive, its wide corridors lit by lanterns held aloft on beautifully crafted, wrought iron sconces and flickering with fire. Only when I nearly collided with the student in front of me did I tear my attention away from the architecture, and I turned to find an elderly woman waiting at the top of the staircase, her presence quiet yet commanding and her wide-brimmed hat casting a shadow over her unwavering gaze.

     Professor Minerva McGonagall wore a gown of emerald and black velvet, the shimmering fabric matching her smile as she said, "Welcome to Hogwarts. In a few moments, you will pass through these doors and join your classmates. But before you can take your seats you must be sorted into your houses. They are Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin."

     She fell silent for several moments, then continued, "Now, while you're here...your house will be like your family. Your triumphs will earn you points. Any rule-breaking, and you will lose points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the house cup. Now, follow me. The Sorting Ceremony will begin momentarily."

     She turned on her heel as the majestic doors slowly swung open and revealed the grandeur of the Great Hall, which unfurled before us in all its splendor, the candles floating overhead bathing the entire hall in a warm, golden light. Four long tables stretched across the dining hall, and a fifth table sitting at the head of the room, raised slightly above the others and allowing Headmaster Albus Dumbledore to look fondly upon each and every one of his cherished students.

     We waited at the back of this large space as the school choir sang:

"In the cauldron, boil and bake,

fillet of a fenny snake.

Scale of dragon, tooth of wolf,

witches' mummy, maw and gulf.

Double, double, toil and trouble,

fire burn and cauldron bubble.

Double, double, toil and trouble,

fire and cauldron bubble.

Double, double, toil and trouble,

fire burn and cauldron bubble!

Something wicked this way comes!"

     Dread settled in the pit of my stomach as the students sang, but before I could figure out why, McGonagall led us to the Sorting Hat, which sat upon a three-legged stool in front of the professors' table.

     Standing beside the Sorting Hat, Professor McGonagall said, "Now, before we begin, Professor Dumbledore would like to say a few words."

     The Headmaster of Hogwarts moved to the podium and smiled, his eyes twinkling merrily as he seemed to connect with each and every one of his new pupils by simply holding our collective gaze, and his long, white hair was capped by a blue and silver hat.

     "Welcome, welcome to another year at Hogwarts," he said, and the gathered students quickly settled. "Now, I'd like to say a few words before we all become too befuddled by our excellent feast. First, I'm pleased to welcome Professor R.J. Lupin, who's kindly consented to fill the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. Good luck, Professor."

     The students clapped politely as Lupin stood and acknowledged the pupils with a nod of his head before taking his seat beside Professor Severus Snape, who looked less than pleased about the arrangement. I knew Snape coveted the position Lupin had inherited from Gilderoy Lockhart, and I could tell it frustrated him that he had yet to be granted the position, despite the fact that a curse placed upon the post by Tom Marvolo Riddle prevented a professor from holding the position for more than one term.

     That's why Lupin knew to give me the chocolate, I realized, my attention pulled from my thoughts by the sound of Dumbledore's voice.

     "...Care of Magical Creatures teacher for many years, has decided to retire in order to spend more time with his remaining limbs," the headmaster continued. Fortunately, I'm delighted to announce that his place will be taken by none other than our own...Rubeus Hagrid."

     Saying that Rubeus Hagrid was a large man would have been a grotesque understatement. The newly promoted professor stood, met with a much louder applause – as well as rowdy cheers from the Gryffindor table – as he knocked the table aside and waved with a hand the size of a dinner plate.

     "Finally, on a more disquieting note," Dumbledore said, his mouth set in a grim line, "at the request of the Ministry of Magic, Hogwarts will, until further notice, play host to the dementors of Azkaban until such a time as Sirius Black is captured."

     My blood ran cold, and it took every ounce of strength in my being to prevent myself from glancing over my shoulder as Dumbledore stated, "The dementors will be stationed at every entrance to the grounds. Now, whilst I've been assured that their presence will not disrupt our day-to-day activities...a word of caution. Dementors our vicious creatures. They will not distinguish between the one they hunt and the one who gets in their way. Therefore, I must warn each and every one of you to give them no reason to harm you. It is not in the nature of a dementor to be forgiving."

     I scoffed, It doesn't seem to matter whether I give them a reason or not.

     "But, you know, happiness can be found, even in the darkest of times..." Dumbledore claimed, extinguishing one of the candles on his podium before bringing it back to life with a wave of his hand, "if one only remembers to turn on the light. Now, Professor McGonagall, if you would please commence with the Sorting Ceremony."

     McGonagall gave the headmaster a curt nod and Dumbledore returned to his chair, peering over his half-moon spectacles and holding my gaze when we locked eyes. His smile widened for the briefest moment, but he quickly adopted a more neutral expression as Professor McGonagall unfurled the scroll in her hands.

     "Now, when I call your name, you will come forth, I shall place the Sorting Hat on your head...and you will be sorted into your houses," McGonagall explained, glancing down at the list of names printed on the scroll. "Lily Lestrange."

     My cursed name rang through the cavernous hall and a hush fell over students and teachers alike. Hunching my shoulders, I kept my eyes on the ground and quickly shuffled up the stairs, the younger pupils practically jumping out of my way as though I were the carrier of a contagious disease. Though I should have been used to the immediate distrust placed upon me by my name, the judgmental gazes that bore down on me as I perched atop the wooden stool cut me to my core.

     I continued to stare at my feet as Professor McGonagall placed the Sorting Hat on my head, and a face appeared in its worn leather as the formerly inanimate object came alive.

     "Lestrange...Now that is a name I have not heard in quite some time," the Sorting Hat said in a gruff voice, and I winced at what I thought to be the unnecessary mention of my infamous family name. "A strong—if hidden—sense of bravery—but also cunning...resourceful. Intelligent, hardworking, you possess characteristics from each house, and I believe each would nurture your specific traits. However...your family has a storied history with the Slytherin house. Perhaps you will carry on their legacy?"

     "I'm not like the rest of my family," I argued, and the Sorting Hat barked out a laugh.

     "No. You are not," the Sorting Hat agreed. "Very well, then. Gryffindor!"

     A stunned silence, including my own, fell over the Great Hall once more. My new classmates narrowed their eyes in suspicion and whispered to one another as I numbly walked toward the table decorated with accents of red and gold, and several students even moved away from me as I took my seat.

     After a moment, Professor McGonagall lightly tapped her glass and Dumbledore stood, raising his hands as he said, "Let the feast begin."

     I gasped as a cornucopia of food magically appeared before us, the mouth-watering aroma of turkey legs, corn-on-the-cob, and warm bread filled the air. For those who wanted a healthier option but still wished to partake in the feast, a wide variety of artistically arranged fruits and vegetables could be found running the length of the table. Because I had often gone for days without eating when my uncle decided to punish me, and because I had never been allowed to share a table with the Malfoys – not that I would want to, in any case – I had never before seen a feast as bountiful as this.

     Though I sat by myself at the end of the table nearest the professors, I quickly forgot my loneliness as I sampled as much of the plethora as I could while still maintaining some semblance of decorum. When movement caught my peripheral vision, I turned to find Draco standing beside me with his arms crossed over his chest. My stomach knotted and my appetite, along with my good mood, was quickly ruined when I noticed the smug expression on his face.

     "Is it true you fainted?" he asked, struggling to suppress the smirk that tugged at the corner of his mouth. "I mean, you actually fainted?"

     "Shove off, Malfoy!" a familiar voice said, and Draco whipped around, his lip curling in a disgusted sneer when he found Harry standing behind him.

     "Looks like you've got yourself a boyfriend, Lestrange," he sniffed, sending one last glare in Harry's direction before marching away.

     "Thank you," I whispered, shifting uncomfortably as Harry sat next to me.

     "Don't mention it," he said, his tone casual.

     I pushed a small pile of peas around on my plate, and when Harry offered me a tart of vanilla cream and berries, I blurted, "You don't have to do this, you know."

     When he arched an eyebrow in what appeared to be genuine confusion, I gestured vaguely to myself, "You don't have to come over here and play nice, you know. I won't be offended if you'd rather sit with your friends and avoid interacting with me. I'm used to it by now."

     Potter glanced over at Granger and Weasley, his brow furrowing when he realized they were watching our conversation intently, though they were far from being the only ones. He turned back to me and looked as though he wanted to say something, but Hermione grabbed his arm before he could and practically dragged him out of the Great Hall. Ron regarded me with something akin to guilt, then followed his friends out of the dining hall as the houses were dismissed for the night.

     Though I drifted near the back of the group, my position didn't stop the rumors that spread like wildfire from reaching my ears:

     "Do you think she's a Death Eater?"

     "I heard her mum killed Longbottom's parents."

     "Maybe she's a spy?"

     "I bet she helped Sirius Black escape!"

     I tried to ignore the suspicious glances and outrageous accusations thrown my way, but eventually gave up when Hermione's voice caught my ear, "Harry, you need to be smart about this. She's a Lestrange."

     I did not hear Potter's reply, but Granger's exasperated response filled me in, "Honestly, don't you ever read? Her mother, Bellatrix Lestrange, was a Death Eater who worked for You-Know-Who during the First Wizarding War. Now she's locked up in Azkaban for torturing Neville's parents, and I don't think it's a coincidence her daughter just happens to show up the same year Sirius Black—who is Lily's second cousin, by the way—escapes from the same prison her mother is being held in."

     Though she was right in suspecting my sudden arrival was not merely a coincidence, I was surprised to find myself blinking back tears at Hermione's words, even though I hardly knew her, and I braced myself for how Harry might react.

     "We can't blame her for her family's mistakes," was all he said, and I was taken aback by his unwavering willingness to trust me.

     "And she did help him free Dobby," Ron added, causing an emotion I was unfamiliar with at the time – though I now know it to be called hope – to spark a fire in my heart. "I mean, I doubt she'd do something like that if she was as mental as her mum. Or her cousin, for that matter."

     Hermione sighed as we wound our way up the moving staircase, "All I'm saying is you need to be careful, Harry. If Black is truly after you, you don't need to be taking any unnecessary risks."

     After humoring the ear-piercing soprano who guarded the entrance to the Gryffindor common room and believed she could shatter the glass in her hand, much to the displeasure of anyone with a functioning sense of hearing, we were allowed inside.

     "I can't believe she's still doing that after three years," Seamus groaned, and winced, wondering how these students had not already gone deaf.

     "Exactly! It's unbelievable," Harry agreed. "She can't even sing."

     The many chattering voices as I took in the Gryffindor common room, which was an invitingly decorated space of red and gold, the large fireplace and plush armchairs adding to its cozy aesthetic. Many of the students retired to their dormitories, but I remained behind and explored the place that I would call home for the next nine months. I sat in one of the armchairs near the crackling fire and chuckled quietly as it practically swallowed me.

     As I watched the hypnotizing flames and listened to the laughter upstairs—Which was accompanied by the sound of...animals?—my eyelids grew heavy and I knew it was time for me to retire, as well. I silently climbed up the stone staircase and stopped halfway to watch the storm outside, though I quickly continued on my way when a flash of lightning outlined the hovering figures of dementors.

     When I reached the door to the girls' dormitory, I tried to turn the knob, but it didn't budge. After several attempts were made in vain and accompanied by the sound of quiet giggling, I realized I was not wanted, and returned to the armchair downstairs. The dying fire reignited with a snap of my fingers, and as I drifted off to sleep, I knew it would take some time for the others to trust me, if I ever managed to gain their trust at all.

     Until then, I would be nothing more than an outcast.