"I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours." Professor McGonagall uttered these words every year to the new students as they gathered, waiting to enter the Great Hall to be sorted. Each year she said them, and each year she wondered what would really become of those students. Who would be the most intelligent? Who would cause the most trouble? Who would join the Quidditch teams (especially Gryffindor)? Who would excel in Transfiguration? Who would end up really making something of themselves? Or worse, who would end up going down the wrong road?

Professor McGonagall sat on the burgundy armchair in her room dressed in her tartan dressing gown as she sipped a glass of gillywater, her custom at the beginning of the new school year. Her thoughts drifted to first day lesson plans, and upcoming Quidditch trials, as her glasses slipped down her nose and she drifted off to sleep.

This is the first chapter, but I'm not even sure you could consider it that. It's just setting the stage for the rest of the chapters.