I woke early the next morning and left for breakfast, finding Percy Weasley already there. While he wasn't exactly the most intriguing conversationalist, he was most helpful at giving directions. Later, Fred and George had offered to give me a few "shortcuts" but Percy berated them because "students weren't supposed to be allowed in those hallways."

I led Harry and Ron around when they were lost, and though she knew where she was going Hermione always tagged along with us because she and I had gotten to be very good friends. I had really been pushing Ron and Harry about her but they still hadn't opened up. I was just happy we were all in the same house together.

Classes were mind-boggling. My favorite so far had to be either Charms or Transfiguration. I hadn't cared much for Herbology, and Astronomy made me tired. Defense Against the Dark Arts had potential, but Professor Quirrel seemed too shaken up whenever he tried to get into anything even remotely dangerous. I felt sorry for him.

Friday was the first day we had Potions.

"Double Potions, actually," Ron said, sounding revolted. "With Slytherin."

"I think I've had enough of Malfoy for now, thank you," Harry grimaced.

"I reckon he's afraid of me," I mused.

"I don't blame him," Ron said. "You're scary sometimes."

Scary? "What?" I inquired. "Why?"

"When you talk you've got this look in your eye," said Harry. "It's very intense."

"And yesterday, you split the screaming beetroot into completely even thirds!" Ron exclaimed. "While it was screaming!"

"Your point being?" I asked with a mouth full of muffin.

"We weren't supposed to cut them open," Harry reminded me. "Just shave them."

I had gotten in a spot of trouble with Professor Sprout about that almost immediately. The Hufflepuffs we were working with didn't seem very pleased by the situation either, as the screaming beetroot only continued to scream, thrice as loudly.

"What's any fun about that?" I indignantly forked some more pancake into my mouth. After I swallowed, I continued. "It was far more interesting to see how it looked on the inside—"

"It was screaming!" Ron gestured with his hands. "And you cut it into perfect thirds! She measured!"

"And you just ate those pancakes without syrup," Harry added. "That's pretty terrifying to me."

"Well excuse me then," I rolled my eyes. "But I won't apologize for being a bit odd."

"Honestly, you two need to lighten up a little," Hermione told them. I smiled appreciatively at her.

"Can it, Hermione," Ron grimaced.

I was about to make him apologize, but suddenly the post came in. Several owls came swooping into the Great Hall. I found Willow almost immediately and she dropped my father's letter back into my own hands.

     My Dear Lila,

     Your Aunt Kara is here helping me take care of the house and myself, so I don't want you to worry too much. By the time you get this, you'll probably have had a few classes by now. Let me know how they've gone and which ones are your favorite. Aunt Kara thinks you're at boarding school, and I was worried she'd see me sending this or getting letters from you, but Willow has figured out to only come to my window. She's a very smart owl. Excellent choice.

     I miss you so much at home! I can't wait to see you again during the Holidays! I hope that we can talk all about school and all of the friends that you probably already have! I love you, little detective. Owl me back when you can!

     Love From,

     Father Holmes.

I smiled. I wished everyone could have someone like my father. I looked over at Harry, who had received a letter from Hagrid. Hermione giggled and showed me what her parents had written her, while Ron's ears went red at whatever his mother had said.

Together, we trekked to the dungeons for Potions. It seemed that the further we descended, the colder it got. I didn't mind the cold that much, but Hermione kept shivering.

The atmosphere of the potions classroom was chilling, as the room itself was quite cold and it was made of stone. In the corner were preserved ingredients in jars that I had taken an interest in. I stood over by the shelves and examined them. There were rats, spiders, several jars of eyes (some dry, some preserved in liquid), a giant scorpion in amber, and other things that I didn't know the name of.

"'How am I scary?' " I heard Ron tease from behind me.

I looked at him over my shoulder with a challenge. "I'll dump one of these eyeballs on you, just one more word Weasley, I dare you."

Ron didn't seem to want to hold me to that. Satisfied, I took a seat daintily beside Hermione.

Professor Snape appeared soon after. He didn't say a word to us, his eyes simply sweeping across the room until they landed on Harry. I noticed the small sneer that came to his lips.

He pulled out the roll and began to call names. I wasn't normally afraid of other people, but Professor Snape was quite intimidating. Much more so that Professor McGonagall, at least in my opinion. He called my name, to which I said I was present. He looked up menacingly, showing me the same sneer he showed Harry.

"If you so far as lightly brush one of those ingredients, Miss Holmes, your friend won't be the only one on a trip to the Hospital Wing," he drawled.  I nodded quickly, surprised he'd even heard me. My cheeks flushed in mortification. I caught Malfoy laughing a few seats over and glared as hard as I could. When Professor Snape got to Harry, he looked up from his paper once more, a sort of malice in his eyes.

"Ah, yes, Harry Potter, our new celebrity."

Malfoy and his lackeys started to snicker again from where they sat. I frowned.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and art of potionmaking," Professor Snape began, his voice barely above a whisper. I was surprised to find my interest growing more and more with each word as he continued to lay out the intricacies of the class.

Suddenly, he whipped around to look towards Harry. "Potter!" He snapped. Harry seemed to shrink in his chair. I immediately felt bad for him. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

I knew the answer, but I was too daunted to raise my hand, afraid to continue on a bad foot with the man. Hermione, however, didn't seem to care, and her hand flew high into the air. Snape ignored it.

"I don't know," said Harry quietly. I knew that most teachers hadn't expected us to memorize our books, and that the professor was just giving him a hard time. But why?

"Tut tut, fame clearly isn't everything," Professor Snape sneered. I had never felt such second-hand embarrassment. Again and again, Snape drilled Harry for answers he didn't have, while Hermione seemed to grow more and more insistent.

"Thought you wouldn't open a book before coming, eh, Potter?" Harry made eye contact with Professor Snape yet again, who still didn't seem to have noticed Hermione. "What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

Hermione legitimately stood up, waving her hand around to be noticed. Malfoy and Crabbe and Goyle seemed to think that this was the funniest thing that they'd ever witnessed. I suddenly wished I knew a few hexes.

"I don't know," Harry said quietly. He stared daringly into Snape's cold, dark eyes. "I think Hermione does, though, why don't you try her?"

I put a hand over my mouth to cover my surprise. I had known Harry had some sass in him — but to show it to a teacher? I bit back the grin on my lips. A few other people in the class didn't even bother hiding their laughter. Seamus Finnegan seemed to think this was particularly funny. Dean Thomas was losing it.

"Sit down," Snape snapped at Hermione, who immediately did so, ashamed. "For your information, Potter, asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of Living Death. A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat and it will save you from most poisons. As for monkshood and wolfsbane, they are the same plant, which also goes by the name of aconite. Well? Why aren't you all copying that down?"

I wrote everything down incredibly quickly. Professor Snape noticed that I had finished while everyone was still writing. He looked over at my paper, skimming over the words. I waited for him to look back up before I met his gaze.

"I have an affinity for note taking," I told him, keeping my face neutral. This was true, after years of training myself for the life of a detective. He frowned at me but said nothing before he quickly turned to Harry.

"A point will be taken from Gryffindor for your cheek, Potter."

Harry seemed angry and embarrassed, averting his eyes. I could see his fists clench below the desk. I couldn't help but feel sorry for him. Ron looked like he was about to protest, but reconsidered.

Snape began to put us all into pairs from our houses, but as he was narrowing the partners down I noticed that there were eleven in each house. Someone was going to have to be with a Slytherin, and as he finished pairing up Lavender  and Dean I realized that that someone was going to be me.

"There seems to be an uneven number," Professor Snape mused. "How unfortunate."

He didn't seem surprised or sorry about that fact at all. He sneered down at me and pointed to the only Slytherin who hadn't been given a partner. Malfoy. How dreadful. I figured this was my punishment for threatening Ron with potions ingredients.

Curiously, Malfoy seemed to dislike the idea considerably more than I did. His eyes grew wide and he shook his head in protest, seeming very much opposed. Maybe I did scare him, and this wouldn't be so bad after all.

"Professor Snape, I can't be partnered with her she's— she's—" Malfoy tried to protest, but Professor Snape didn't budge.

"I have already partnered the rest of the class," he stated coolly. "Don't make me repeat myself."

Malfoy nodded, but glared at the professor when his back was turned. We found the only pair of empty spots left and in a tense silence began to work on the Cure for Boils. Despite his seemingly perpetual scowl and his unwillingness to speak, I appreciated Malfoy's immediacy. I'd hate him more if we were partnered and he didn't do anything.

"That was quite an attitude change, wouldn't you say?" I remarked quietly. Malfoy just glared at me and didn't answer. I continued to talk. "What were you going to call me anyway?"

"None of your concern," he muttered, still grimacing and not looking at me. "It's what we call your kind. You'd start crying."

"Why would I cry if I don't even know what it means?" I raised an eyebrow, biting back a smile at the notion. My eye was caught by the snake fangs Malfoy was about to sweep into the cauldron.

"Careful," I said quickly. He looked up, seeming irritated. I sighed. "We put them in the mortar first, and you're only supposed to put in six," I said. "And if we're going to work together for the remainder of the year then you have to stop being so childish."

"I'm not childish," he snapped. "And this isn't permanent. I'll owl my father and he'll come right over and fix this, just you wait. You can go back to Potter and Weasel and I can go back to my own House." He looked me spitefully in the eye as he removed the extra snake fang and put the rest into the mortar.

"Well at least look at the brewing instructions," I frowned. "You don't even have a book open!"

"Neither do you," He gave me a look.

"I memorized this one," I said haughtily. "But fine, have it your way." I took out my book and put it on the table, facing it towards him. He opened it to the right page and began to read from there.

"Crush into a fine powder," Malfoy read. "I'll do that."

"It's best if you didn't. You're so pale the powder will blend with your skin and you'll never be able to find it again," I told him, handing him the mortar and pestle anyway.

"I am not that pale!" He seemed a lot more offended by this than I thought he would be, some color coming to his cheeks.

"You look as if you've never seen the sun, Malfoy," I grinned impishly at him before reading the next instruction upside down. "Add four measures of the crushed fangs to the cauldron and heat it. Then one of us waves our wand and we wait for 33-45 minutes."

"What am I supposed to do with you for that long?" He groaned, measuring out four helpings and dumping them (quite viciously) into the cauldron. I leaned down to heat it.

"You can sit and stare at the wall for all I care," I told him plainly, still tending to the cauldron. Jokingly, I added. "Or admire the depths of my ochre eyes."

He snorted. "'More like ogre eyes," he said, crossing his arms and looking past me. "I'll take the wall." 

I sat back up and laughed. He narrowed his eyes at me, as if he wasn't expecting my reaction. "Why are you laughing? That was supposed to make you cry."

"Really? I thought it was quite clever," I hummed, "ogre eyes," I repeated with a snort. "Perhaps you do have a sense of humor after all."

When I sat up again, he had a curious expression on his face. One I couldn't quite read. Professor Snape soon congratulated us (mostly Malfoy) on our Potion, though I thought we would have been well behind the rest of the class. After he left to go snap at poor Harry, I leaned over the table.

"I hate to admit it, but we make an exceptional team, don't we?" I winked. I was only doing this to bother him, and it seemed to be working, because he made a disgusted face at me.

"I suppose we're alright," he said stiffly, "but stop breathing on me, it's unsanitary."

I sat back. "That's a nicer response than I expected."

"Well don't get any ideas," he protested quickly. "And what did you expect?"

"I don't know, something resembling—" I started to imitate his voice. "You're beneath me, you lawless Muggle filth. We'll never be a team and tomorrow I'll ensure you're expelled!"

"That's not at all what I sound like," he scoffed. "And you're not one to talk." He pitched his voice higher and made himself sound overly posh— "Let me use all these big words to confuse my inferiors! Nobody could ever understand me, how utterly hilarious!"

I began to snicker, and put my hand over my mouth so that he couldn't see, but my shaking shoulders gave me away. He seemed rather pleased, and allowed himself a small chuckle. However, his eyes soon went past mine, and then immediately shot down.

His expression grew stony again. I turned around, and Pansy Parkinson girl was glaring over at us. It took me a minute to realize that the rest of the room was very still and quiet, and while Malfoy and I had spoken in very hushed tones there hadn't been many other people talking.

The simmering of cauldrons was loud enough to mask what we were saying but the laughter must have looked really odd. I looked over and both Harry and Ron were looking at me quizzically.

"I think we've had it on the heat for enough time," I said quickly to Malfoy. He looked back up, expression unpleasant again. Oh well.

"Yeah, you're right," he said quietly, clearing his throat. He suddenly jolted, as if being shocked by a cattle prod. "I mean, yeah, I knew that already. You don't have to tell me. What do you think I am, stupid?"

"A little, yes," it struck me that we'd been getting along, strangely enough.

"Add four horned slugs," he instructed, and the two of us went back to business for a while.

"You know which way clockwise is, correct?" I joked, breaking the tension. Malfoy gave me a glare to beat all glares, and my grin just grew.

"If you don't then—"

"Of course I know which way clockwise is you airheaded imbecile," Malfoy snapped. I laughed again, much to his dismay. He stirred it five times and then waved his wand, completing the potion.

"Is everything I say funny to you?" He scowled, putting his wand back into his robes and looking up at me irritably.

"I can hardly take you seriously with that ridiculous hairdo," I eyed it with a smirk. "Say, does it crunch when you touch it?"

He growled, but didn't say anything. Professor Snape walked by and peered carefully into the cauldron.

"Good work, Malfoy," he paused, but then nodded at me as well, "Holmes." He scooped out some of our potion with a vial, raising it into the dim light so the class could see. "Look at the pristine pink color of this! Do you see the smoke coming from their cauldron? That's what happens if you do this successfully!" He nodded approvingly down at the two of us. "Ten points to each of you."

I beamed. I'd won back the points Professor Snape had taken from Gryffindor! I was just about to tell Harry such when I heard a very loud sizzling noise. Poor Neville had somehow managed to melt his cauldron and give himself boils. Of course, Snape found some way to blame it on Harry.

"You! Potter — why didn't you tell him not to add the quills? Thought he'd make you look good if he got it wrong, did you? That's another point you've lost for Gryffindor."

Harry looked like he was about to argue, but Ron kicked him from behind the cauldron where Snape couldn't see.

Malfoy and I didn't really speak for the rest of the lesson. Hermione and I mouthed words to each other while Malfoy seemed to be having a conversation with Parkinson using his eyes. After the lesson, I caught up with Harry and Ron, who seemed quite down. Harry looked rather irate, so I decided to try and take their minds off of it.

"Where are you both off too?" I asked them.

"Hagrid's," Harry said shortly. I frowned. He didn't seem to want to look at me.

"Don't worry about Snape," I told them. "Everyone's said that he's rather nasty, even Percy."

"You seemed to be enjoying your time with Malfoy," Ron told me, seeming spiteful. I crossed my arms and raised an eyebrow at them both.

"Well excuse me for winning back the points you lost," I said sharply.

"And winning Malfoy ten points himself," Harry grimaced.

"He could have done that on his own," I protested. "He's adept at Potions."

"Why are you standing up for him?" Harry gave me a look.

"I'm not standing up for him, I'm just stating facts," I said coolly. "Just because he has an affinity for Potions doesn't mean he's any less of a bigot." And it doesn't mean I like him any more, I added silently.

"You were laughing together," Ron scoffed. "I can't believe it. How could someone like you get along with someone like him?"

"I understand why you're upset but a partnership requires cooperation," I said stubbornly. "I'm just as opposed to it as you are but if we are able to get along and I keep getting points then we'll be successful."

"You'll be successful," Harry shook his head. "Snape seems to like you."

"Probably because you're all buddy-buddy with Malfoy," Ron gave me a pointed look. I sighed and rolled my eyes.

"Fine, have it your way," I told them, "I'll be with Hermione." I ended up doubling back to meet up with her.

"Until they come around to it it's just you and I, Hermione," I sighed, disappointed. I wasn't sure if it was with them or myself.

"Don't worry," she told me. "They'll come around. Do you want to go to the library? I have lots of homework to catch up on."

"Oh, sure," I nodded, brightening up a little. "That sounds like a great idea. I haven't been to the library yet, have you?"

"Of course I