My life closed twice before its close;
It yet remains to see
If Immortality unveil
A third event to me,
So huge, so hopeless to conceive,
As these that twice befell.
Parting is all we know of heaven,
And all we need of hell.

- Emily Dickinson

As soon as her paws hit the compartment floor the cat shifted, changing into the bird that was her preference and moving to perch on the back of the seat. Golden eyes watching her nephew intently, Harry dropped into the seat with a smile. Flipping his potions book open to reread the first chapter. He was about halfway through when the compartment door slid open, "Mind if I sit here? Everywhere else is full."

Harry glanced up at the redheaded boy for a moment before shaking his head, his eyes sliding back down to his textbook. The other boy walked in, lifting his trunk awkwardly to store it. Emina jerked awake with an angry sound as it thudded loudly against the wall. The boy dropped into the seat across from Harry, making a face at his book.

"So what's your name?" The redhead asked and Harry sighed, marking his page.

"It's impolite to ask someone's name without giving your name first," Harry answered with a frown. He hated being interrupted when he was reading. "But my name's Harry."

"Harry? Harry what?" The boy asked quickly, his eyes lighting up. At Harry's look his ears reddened, "Name's Ron Weasley."

"Just Harry, now if you don't mind I was reading." Harry answered, cracking his book open once again.

It was quiet for a moment before, "Were you named after Harry Potter? He starts school this year, you know."

Harry sighed, letting his book fall shut. "No, I'm not named after Harry Potter and I'm pretty sure that everyone knows he's starting Hogwarts this year." The door slid open and a kindly looking witch stuck her head in.

"Anything off the trolley dears?"

Harry blinked; glancing towards the bird perched on his seat. "Erm yes. A chocolate frog please." The witch took his money, and handed him a frog with a smile. Ron gave the sweet a look of longing and Harry hesitated for a moment before breaking it in half, "Here."

The compartment door slid open and both boys looked to see who was there. Three boys, obviously first years stood in the door way. Two of them, situated like bodyguards, looked more than a little thick, while the third was shorter with slicked back blonde hair. He stood in the doorway as though waiting for something, a sharp peck on the back of the head made Harry realize what it was.

He blinked, trying to remember the exact wording, "House Peverell greets House Malfoy." His head tilted slightly to the side in recognition.

"House Malfoy greets House Peverell," The blonde greeted, eyeing Harry for a moment before holding out his hand, allowing the formalities to drop. "Draco Malfoy. We met at Madame Malkin's?"

"Harry Peverell. We did, manage to get that broom in?" Harry asked, even as Ron snorted and Malfoy's eyes slid to him. The blonde raised an eyebrow and Harry shrugged.

"Unfortunately no," Draco answered, looking anyway from the redhead. "Had to leave it at back at the manor. Is that your falcon? Father has one; I have an eagle owl myself. She's lovely." The blonde reached out to gently pet the bird's feathers.

"No, she belongs to my Aunt. She's just with me so I can send her a letter about the sorting later," Harry answered, smothering his smile as she preened slightly under the attention. The falcon was her true animagus from, and she rather enjoyed the compliments granted to her.

"I see, what house did you think you'll be in? Since you didn't get to answer in the shop," Draco asked, taking a seat as one of the other boys slid the door shut.

"I'm not sure. They all have their good points. My Aunt thinks Slytherin or Gryffindor though I think she's leaning towards Slytherin." Harry answered, blinking when Ron scoffed. "What?"

"There's not a wizard or witch who was in Slytherin that didn't go bad. Slytherins are evil." The boy answered, making a face at the idea of being placed there. Draco tensed next to Harry who spoke before he could say anything.

"That's not true. I mean there are plenty of Slytherins workings as healers and aurors. The other houses also had their fair share of death eaters during the last war and there are plenty of dark witches and wizards who weren't a part of Slytherin." Harry said, frowning.

"Oh yeah? Prove it, name one." Ron grumbled, his ears reddening.

"Grindlewald," Harry answered flatly, raising an eyebrow. The other boy stared at his for a moment before standing, mumbling something about his brothers, and exiting the compartment.

It stayed quiet for a moment before Draco spoke, "So see the last Harpies match?"

Harry frowned as the other first years screamed as the ghosts slid through the walls. His aunt had refused to tell him anything about the sorting, other than that he shouldn't worry- it wasn't any sort of test and that no matter what the other students were saying he most definitely didn't have to fight a troll or a dragon. Now though, as McGonagall led them into the hall he found that there was little comfort in those words, he certainly felt like he was being led to fight a dragon. The first years stood, pressed close together as they waited and then Professor McGonagall placed a stool in the front of the hall, a wizard hat sitting on top of it. Quite suddenly a rip in the hat opened and it began to sing.

He nearly fell over when the first name was called, and the hat called out a house. After all that worrying, all they had to do was sit underneath a hat.

"Potter, Harry!"

Harry blinked as the hall filled with whispers and everyone strained to see as he walked forward, he glanced back at Draco, giving the stunned boy an apologetic smile. The last thing he saw though, before the hat dropped over his eyes, was a falcon perched on the shoulder of a man at the head table.

Ah, what have we here? It's been a long time since I've seen a Potter. And what an interesting one you are! Raised by one touched by Death himself!

Harry fought back a gasp, You won't tell?

Of course not, I keep all secrets. Nothing to worry about. Now where shall I put you? You are both loyal and brave but Hufflepuff wouldn't fit. Not cunning enough for Slytherin, although you could learn much there. Perhaps Gryffindor or Ravenclaw.

A small part of Harry yearned for Gryffindor, even as the hat said it. The same house his parents and aunt had been in, the same house that many Potters over the years were alumni of. The thought of a more neutral house like Ravenclaw though, not having to deal with so much house rivalry... Harry sighed; it really was up to the hat at this point.

Ah ha! I think Mr. Potter, that I know just where to put you. Better be- GRYFFINDOR!

Harry made his way to the Gryffindor table to thunderous applause, his face burning in embarrassment as he took a seat next to two redheaded twins a bushy haired girl joining him moments later. From where he sat now he could make out the head table, at one end sat a giant of a man who caught his eye and gave him a smile, he recognized him from his aunts photos as Hagrid the groundskeeper, there were a few other Professors who Harry vaguely recognized but his eyes slid down the table searching for the molten gold eyes he had seen earlier. He finally found them, his aunt looking rather smug from where she was perched on the back of a chair with a pale Professor with greasy looking black hair and a slightly crooked nose, as though it had been broken more than once. The man was in a conversation with another Professor whom was wearing an ridiculous looking purple turban, casting troubled looks at the bird every few minutes. Suddenly though, the man glanced past the turbaned Professor and his black eyes connected with Harry's. A burning pain shot across Harry's forehead and he yelped, slapping his hand onto his scar. There was an angry screech from the high table as the bird threw herself at the teachers purple turban, in an angry flurry of feathers before winging its way out of the hall.

Harry blinked tiredly before turning his eyes to one of the twins next to him, "Who's that teacher with the turban? And the one talking with him?" For some reason he was unsurprised when they finished each others sentences.

"Oh, that's Professor Quirrell-"

"Right waste he is, afraid of his own shadow."

"Other one's Professor Snape. Teaches potions, he's Head of Slytherin and really hates Gryffindor-"

"Knows what he's doing though, enough if he is a complete-"

He was cut off here as Dumbledore stood for silence before he began conducting the school song and the students were sent to their dorms.