I cannot tell you the exact year this story begins, for there have been far too many and I have lost count. If my memory serves, it was during Dumbledore's headmastership. After the first fall of the Dark Lord, but before his conqueror joined the throng at Hogwarts. In fact, I would say about seven years before he came, for I know not that he ever knew the children of which this story tells.

Floating through the wall, I took my place among my students, gazing at Hogwarts' brightest. They were a quiet crowd, unlike their opposites, the happy-go-lucky Hufflepuffs. They were calm, as their ambitious peers, the Slytherins, could often be. I find Slytherins a rather amiable group, assuming one watches one's back. They were not, however, calm now. They never were, at the Welcoming Feast. The Rivalry did not allow it. Speaking of the Rivalry, the Slytherin's rivals, the bold Gryffindors, always a bit rash in my opinion, were being absolutely raucous.

As the new students filed in, a silence fell. I allowed it to wash over me as I attempted to spot my new students. I noticed four students in particular. Two girls, a blonde and a brunette, both calm and together, probably good bets for Ravenclaw, and two boys, a blonde and…a Gryffindor. He was an easy placement with his red tipped, black, spiked hair. I was unsure about the blonde. The four seemed to be getting along together. As an observer, I took this in with interest. Little did I know that I was gazing upon not only the greatest interhouse friendship in many years, but the greatest romance in even longer. Now I see, I might have seen it then. It was in their eyes.

As the Sorting began, I kept an eye on these four. They intrigued me. The brunette girl was called up first. "Belbusti, Claire." Professor McGonagall called her name. Italian, apparently. She slipped under the Sorting Hat and was soon joining my table to modest applause. I thought she looked like a Ravenclaw. She also looked rather attached to her kitten.

Soon, the blond girl took her turn. "Jarvinen, Alina." Hmm, sounded Finnish. She, too, was soon joining the Ravenclaw table, sitting near Claire. At a second look, I found her to be incredibly cute, like a princess or a storybook character. She seemed a little mischievous for my students, but that soon lent to the Friendship.

She was immediately followed by the tall, blond boy. "Killingham, Robin." Killingham? Ah, Irish, a Slytherin. It was always difficult to pick the quieter Slytherins from the Ravenclaws. But I remembered his brother, Gregory. Thinking about it as the Hat placed him, I realized he looked quite a bit like his older brother. The Slytherins were gloating over their new addition, as they and the Gryffindors were wont to do. Alina glanced his way, but Claire's eyes followed him. Another sign I should have registered.

A few students later, the final of the four was up. "Manas, Akir." He looked Asian. I was right, he was soon seated at Gryffindor. His mischievous streak looked like Alina's magnified. Alina also followed his path to his seat, though Claire continued to watch Robin, tearing her eyes away only when Alina began to talk to her. Even at eleven, these children were destined for the Friendship and the Great Romance.