It started slow, slow enough that I couldn't even tell what was happening at first.

  You might argue that for a girl who grew up in the capital of white supremacy of America and a girl whose personality and worldview has been shaped by the bullying she lived through in her teenage years, not that I'd admit to that notion or say it out loud in anywhere but the solitude of my thoughts, to recognize neither the racism nor the bullying she was receiving is, frankly, absurd.

  In my defense, it had been thirteen years since I left either of said aspects of my environment behind, and the racists I had been used to seeing were coarse, thuggish people, poor and uneducated. They were loud and proud, displaying their ideology openly on their shaved heads and through their silly tattoos. Trashy behaviour, aggression, drug use had been hallmarks of that crowd.

  That wasn't to say there hadn't been plenty of racists back home who pretended to be perfectly common citizens, quite the opposite. Hell, it was Coil, my boss, who revealed to the world that the upper echelons of the Empire were the top of the top elites of my hometown, Kaiser the CEO of the only pharmaceuticals company of Brockton Bay.

  Point is, I'd never been spectacular at seeing the snakes coiled around people's hearts, after having grown up in a place where the worst of the worst were never ashamed to express what type of monsters they were. And nothing in that sentence was a pun. Even my own bullies, despite all the underhanded tactics they used against me, had been quite straight-forward and in my face about it in comparison.

  With all those excuses ready, I was to admit I didn't think much of three fourth years (I guessed, the guy looked like he was developing acne) leaving the lunch table when I sat down on that first day of classes.

  Looking back, that was the earliest instance I could find. Sue me. In Winslow, sitting down to eat in the cafeteria would earn me a hair full of spaghetti.

  Then again, Snape had came forward to declare protection of me. That had to limit them somewhat. Plus, Hogwarts was smaller and bigger than a normal school at the same time, when viewed with different lenses. Opportunities for more direct bullying were more pinched here, like how it was impossible to smash someone's face into their plate in the Great Hall where the professors ate too. On the other hand, we lived here, and I was isolated within a house of my would-be bullies, there were no security cameras around, and the school was as big as a small town, no doubt there were plenty of places far from the watching eyes of our guardians here to sink their claws on their victims.

  I was occupied, another reason for me not noticing the shit they were pulling. After that transfiguration class, a fire had been lit in my heart. I spent my free time practicing the spell that week. It took me two sessions to turn a match into a needle in my room with Tracey watching, after a quick talk I had with Harry and Ron when we came across on the corridors out of coincidence revealed that McGonagall had switched the target of the exercise from nails to needles in their own first class of transfiguration. Of course, turning it into a nail was my next goal, with no aid from my passenger whatsoever. And I was also kept busy by reading up on the material of all of my classes, thinking, preparing. Magic was... interesting, but also demanding.

  Doing garden work with one arm had turned Herbology the class I dreaded the most. I'd read the most of my Herbology textbooks.

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  To add to all of that, I felt a bit dramatic at calling what they were doing bullying, even. My housemates leaving the table or moving to make space when I came to eat, that had happened more than once. Our seniors had approached us first years throughout the week, the older ones to give advice, words of affirmation and to express their dependability, and the younger ones to befriend us. Except me, of course, and I was further isolated in each instance when some beaming girl or guy came between Tracey and I to form a circle with others around my roommate for energetic conversation. The occasional frown and scowl, directed at me in its full glory, condescending smiles, glance-and-turn-backs with exaggerated posture, the whole package. I was sure I heard a few mutter insults under their breath as I passed, but I hadn't heard what they would say. When I'd walked up to my classmate, Daphne Greengrass, to ask about homework, she did a hundred and eighty and went on her way, not even letting me finish my words.

  I had to give it to them, they upheld the reputation of sneakiness and subtlety, especially the older students. All of it was nothing I could run to Snape to make them behave, but it was shitty getting treated like this, and would be double shitty for a normal kid. They really were snakes.

  Except Draco.

  Draco proved to be a brute. Not only was he the only one who didn't shy away from displaying a sneer at me, he was the only one who gave me the occasional shoulder when our paths intercepted. Remembering the speed he had gotten Sorted to Slytherin, I once again doubted this whole process of houses and sortings. He was a pure loudmouth. If this had been a normal school, I would have already shown him what he deserved.

  "Why don't you go to the Hufflepuff common room to play with all your housemates," he had even spat at me, while we were going down to the dungeons after astronomy class.

  If only, I had thought, but felt bad after. If I'd been at Hufflepuff, I would have never befriended Tracey, would I?

  For a moment, I pondered what would have come out of Tracey then, staying with a uppity pure-blood like Draco, would she have played up her magical side, going along with the flow? Would she, in the future? A normal kid, who didn't agree with blood supremacist beliefs, would be intimidated by the Slytherins they stayed with.

  ...That aside, it made me wonder if following the Hufflepuffs instead of Slytherins after transfiguration had been a reason of my position in Slytherin. I was curious, but it didn't matter. I wouldn't step back from socializing with people I wanted to socialize, even if I knew it'd sour the Slytherin's perception of me.

  Whatever...

  My house wasn't a monolith, of course. Blackwood sneaking worried glances at me here and there didn't escape me. She, Curls, Jet Black and a brown haired guy seemed to form a more mild-mannered group, with possibly others clustering around them, but that was about it when it came to what I knew about them. There appeared to be differing cliques within Slytherin, but it would take a while for me to even start deciphering them.

  As I said, this... isolation campaign? Had started slow, and minor. Other than Draco, I hadn't paid much attention to the rest as they happened during the first week.

  It only escalated to a noticeable level, after our first potions class Friday, the morning of which was when Harry and Ron had finally managed to make it to the breakfast.