Chapter 1

It was just as magnificent as she imagined it to be, if not more. Underneath the velvety sky sprinkled with cheerfully blinking lights, the castle, in all its glory of battlements and turrets, towered above a cliff top overlooking the dark lake across from them. A warm glow emanated from its countless windows, promising full fires, bright candlelight, and dried goodness. The girl shivered in the night's chill, pulling the enormous cloak around her shoulders tightly. It had been raining for the good part of the afternoon, and it hadn't taken long for the water to soak her to her very bones. The man beside her had generously given her his cloak; she didn't have the heart to tell him that waterlogged, it was more of a nuisance than anything.

"We going by boat?" She asked him warily. He glanced in her direction, but in the night, his expression was unreadable.

"Nope. Thestrals are the way to go, so I've heard." She raised an eyebrow, but didn't comment.

A moment later, a shadowy figure broke off from the rest of its similar surroundings. It flew closer and closer, taking the shape of a malnourished horse, before landing a few feet away from the pair. The man helped her up onto the creature's back before climbing on himself.

"Hope you like flying on horses just as well as Portkeying." She told him lightly before the Thestral trotted a few steps and launched into the air.

"Portkeying is not a word." She heard him mutter under his breath.

A few minutes later, they stood in front of great oak doors. The girl turned to the man inquisitively, but he only shook his head. He pushed them open, revealing the house-sized hall inside. Just prolonging my dramatic entrance, she thought sarcastically, biting down a bubble of nervousness she'd been trying to pop for the past few hours. She could already hear the murmurs of hushed conversations coming from beyond the other set of doors at the end of the hall, the loud applause and cheering as an unheard voice shouted out a word.

The man stopped walking, and turned around to face her, giving her an encouraging smile. He ran a hand through his pale blonde hair, and his grin turned into an almost arrogant smirk.

"Or are we too chicken…?" She rolled her eyes, completely wiping off any signs of apprehension she might've had on her face. She strolled past him, ignoring a ghost that popped out of the wall to her left. It looked at her amusedly, said to no one in particular "Late bloomers, aren't we?" and disappeared through the doors.

The girl pushed them in slightly, taking a shaky breath, and tried not to thrust the doors open. Without glancing up at the room before her, she knew there would be stars pulsing above – just like the sky outside. The Great Hall was exactly like what she'd read; the four long tables occupied by students dressed in black, the equally long table at the front, which the witch with a parchment stood in front of. She was smiling along with the applause as a tiny raven-haired kid rushed from the stool he'd been sitting on, with the Sorting Hat still on. The students sitting under tapestries of scarlet and gold were by far the loudest amongst all the cheering.

A second later, it was as if someone had put a stopper on the festive mood, and a giant hand turned all the heads in the hall towards one direction. Bewildered eyes bore into the girl standing by the doors, seemingly out of place and lost. At the other end of the room, a few seconds too late, the Headmistress cleared her throat.

"Ah, Ms. Arianna Tremmons. Glad to finally have you join us."

The girl whirled around, but her companion was nowhere to be seen.

Today was a relatively pleasant day. Dad was nowhere to be seen, presumably sleeping off another all-nighter. So I had the house, a dozen hours, and Callum all to myself.

The Professor came over again yesterday, and he didn't come empty-handed. I like to read, and am pretty fast, but with all the material he brings me, it's as if he's afraid he won't get the chance to provide me with all that stuff ever again.

Callum was still asleep then, which was a shame because he seems to really like having the Professor around. Sometimes, when Dad isn't looking, he'll let him grasp his wand. I guess one of the reasons why I know my little brother isn't magical is because even with an implement that pretty much creates all magic, he doesn't make anything happen. You should see what I've done with mine in the past.

We didn't do much; the Professor knew we were in town, and thought it would be good to catch up in case we didn't meet for a while. Mom was, of course, away. Probably one of the reasons why Dad was shut in his room, making endless phone calls with his clients, shut off from the rest of the world.

Oh yeah, he got me Flying with the Cannons! They're not my favourite team, per se, but I love that despite their decades-long losing streak, they've still got such an enormous fan base. And their Seeker is pretty cute too.

Callum loves the flying pictures. He tries to follow them with his chubby fingers, and literally gasps when they disappear from the page. But I'm careful about showing him my books. Last time I caught him flipping through Dementors at a Dreadful Distance, he had nightmares for a week and I didn't get over six hours of sleep for that whole time.

I also suspect that the Professor is trying to build up my anticipation for the upcoming British Easter Holidays. He's already convinced me that if I didn't get my letter, he'd give my Dad rat ears. Not that I would mind, of course, but I'd rather not let my three year old brother witness his parent in a worse mood than he already is in whenever the mention of magic is brought up around him.

I really, really can't wait until September next year. The stuff in books is pretty intriguing, but imagine the real thing! I wouldn't sleep, knowing there'd be so much to learn and explore – and damn the "no wandering in hallways after dark" or whatever rules they have set in Hogwarts. There are passages right? I'll just find them and sneak around whenever.

And the classes, they just sound unbelievable. I mean, I do well at my school, both academically and athletically. But seriously, how can algebra and reading Hatchet actually compare to the real-life excitement of making objects fly and transform into, say, pigs? And soccer, yeah, it sure is fun running full speed down a field, weaving around other players' legs dribbling a ball and shooting at a guarded net – but up in the air, fifty-feet above the ground, on broomsticks, just imagine!

There is so much, so much to look forward to this year.

"She doesn't look 11," a slightly dark-skinned girl whispered to her neighbours, but someone poked her sharply as Arianna walked past them. She pretended not to hear though. She was 14. Not that she was going to announce that for the whole world to hear.

At the front, her back turned to the hundreds of eyes boring into her, she saw her companion slip as inconspicuously as possible into his seat. She narrowed her eyes at him, but he only gave her a tiny nod before gulping down the contents of his goblet.

Professor McGonagall gestured towards the stool, and called out to the students, "Mr. Stiller, would you please hand over the Hat to Ms. Tremmons here?"

"Li," Arianna said quietly, an uncomfortable knot in her stomach, "I'm Arianna Li."

Accompanied by muffled giggles, the first-year with the dark hair ran back up, thrusting the weather-beat Sorting Hat into the girl's hands, offering her a nervous, mostly likely embarrassed, smile. She jammed it onto her head, and at once the whispers and staring were shut off.

"Ah, why, good to see you," a voice said in her ear, "Come here to be sorted? A bit late, wouldn't one say?"

"You're not the first to notice," Arianna said aloud, uncertain whether he could hear her thoughts or not. The Hat chuckled.

"You're wondering if the rest of the school can hear our little conversation?" Arianna shuddered slightly, "Well don't worry, only those who know will."

"What?"

"Let's see… Got a bit of intelligence here, do we now? A bit of a bookworm, not bad qualities for a Ravenclaw. I can see loyalty, ah, great loyalty, once they've gained your trust. Quite a hard worker for something you're passionate about! And ambitious, not to say quite the well-used mind, and not only in a studying way. Let yourself go, and you'd make quite the leader! And, how did I not notice this at first, quite the courage!"

Arianna snorted, whether aloud or in her mind, she couldn't tell. You're not exactly hitting the spot with your other descriptions, but brave? Me? You don't know me.

The Sorting Hat chuckled, uttered a brief hissing sound, and fell silent.

Arianna sat in silence for a few moments, before carefully lifting the still Hat off her head slowly. The din returned to her ears, the chattering considerably louder since the last surprising revelation she'd made.

The girl turned to the Headmistress, this time not bothering to hide a shiver going from head to foot. This had to be a record, this. It was a nightmare. It was all a whole, stinking nightmare.

"Did I – did I just not get sorted into a house?"