Prologue: First Year

Mr. S. Warren.

The Attic, Sunny Cove Cottage

Falmouth, Cornwall

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore (Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)

Dear Mr S. Warren,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on September 1st. We await your owl by no later than July 31st.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress

Sihir looked up at the shop's sign, the letters golden, but peeling somewhat. Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C. One of the more important stops a new student would make when purchasing their school supplies for their First Year at Hogwarts.

His mother, Naima, sighed. "Ollivanders. This brings me back…" She looked down at her son. "Want me to go in with you?" When Sihir shook his head, she smiled. "Meet me at Florian's when you're done, we'll grab some ice-cream." She kissed him on the head, and wandered off.

As Sihir entered the shop, another customer was exiting, a curly-haired boy escorted by a witch, and two adults dressed in muggle clothes. As Sihir held the door open, he noticed the boy was holding a wand in his hand, an amazed expression on his face. "So, I would use this to do magic, then?" the boy asked the witch, who nodded.

"Wands are important tools for channelling your magic. Of course, some who are more experienced might be able to cast spells wandlessly," she explained as she made her way out of the shop. "Thank you," she said, nodding at Sihir. "New student?"

"Y-yes… uh, Sihir Warren. Professor..?"

"McGonagall. I'll be your Transfiguration Teacher." She smiled. "I look forward to seeing you in class, Mr. Warren." She continued on her way, leading the Muggles back into the street.

"H-hello," the curly-haired boy said as he passed Sihir. "I'm Justin, Finch-Fletchley."

"Hey, I'm Sihir Warren. Nice to meet you." He held out his hand.

The muggle-born took it, smiling. "Same to you. Maybe I'll see you on the Express!"

Sihir smiled back. "Maybe! See you then." The four made their way, the parents nodding politely at Sihir. Sihir entered the shop. It was small, made even smaller by the stacks and stacks of boxes reaching up to the ceiling.

Ollivander, himself, was an old man, studying Sihir with pale eyes as he entered the shop. "Mr. Warren, I take it?"

Sihir was taken aback. He couldn't have heard him from outside, could he? "How did you know?"

Ollivander smiled. "I remember every wand I've ever sold. That includes your mother, Mr. Warren." He took a step towards Sihir, studying him closer. "Eleven and a half inches, phoenix feather, quite fine, made of willow. I was of the thought she would make a talented healer."

Sihir smiled nervously under his scrutiny. "She works at St. Mungo's."

"Just so! Wand arm?" Sihir held out his right arm, and Ollivander went to work measuring Sihir's various limbs and body parts. After a while the measuring tape began working on its own as Ollivander went searching through the boxes. "Based on those… Try this one." He returned with a few boxes from the stacks, and handed Sihir one. "Twelve inches, Holly and Unicorn Hair. Bendy."

Excitement coursed through Sihir as he pulled the wand from the box, but Sihir barely waved it at all before it was snatched from him. "No, no, no, maybe not that one… how about this? Fourteen inches, Yew and Dragon Heartstring." This one, too, was barely attempted before being taken. "No, no… hmm…" He turned and walked into the back of the shop, muttering to himself.

"Mr. Ollivander, sir?" Sihir called. "How long does this usually take?" Wands were not a simple purchase, it seemed.

"Oh, depends," the wandmaker said, returning with more boxes. "The wand must be right for the witch or wizard that wields it, and the wizard or witch must be right for the wand!" The two went through another dozen or so wands, of varying combinations. What felt like his thirtieth attempted wand was given to Sihir. Sihir felt a warmth from the wood, a comforting warmth he felt spreading from his fingers throughout his whole body. A small smile formed on his face as he gave the wand a wave. Golden sparks flew from the end, showering the wand-maker's shop in light.

Ollivander smiled jovially, and turned to straighten out some of the boxes they'd been pulling from the shelves. "Aha! You see? The perfect wand. Willow, eight inches, and a unicorn hair. Quite short, as far as most wands go…" He paused, looking down at the boy. "Willow wands tend to have healing properties."

Sihir brightened. "Is that why you thought my mother would be a healer?"

Ollivander's silvery eyes twinkled. "Exactly, young man."

"Nervous for tomorrow?" Sihir and his mother were eating dinner, the night before he would leave for Hogwarts. A day he'd been looking forward to, and dreading.

Sihir shrugged, a somewhat blank expression on his face. "I don't know."

She smiled. "I was nervous when I first stepped onto that platform all those years ago. As soon as I found a compartment and sat down, I was fine. I made new friends, and we were so excited! You'll know the Campbells from Tinworth, so not everyone will be a complete stranger. I mean, they're a few years above you, but…" She frowned, noticing her son's expression hadn't changed. "Not eating?"

Sihir shrugged again. "I guess I am a bit scared." He moved some greens around his plate. "D'you… D'you think anyone will know?"

Naima sighed. She knew what was bothering him. "No, I don't think so. You have my name, anyway, not… his." She squeezed his hand reassuringly. "You have nothing to worry about. He's in Azkaban. He's not going anywhere. He can't hurt anyone ever again."

Sihir's mother was right. The nervousness Sihir experienced was vanishing by the time Sihir sat down in an empty compartment. Marcus Campbell, his friend from Tinworth, had already found a compartment with his Third Year friends in Hufflepuff, but it was good to see a familiar face.

"Sihir, right?" He jumped at the sound of his name, but at the door was the curly-haired boy from Ollivanders. Students were milling about behind him, meeting with friends and loading their trunks and other baggage.

"Yes, Justin?" The boy nodded. "Would you like to join me?"

Justin smiled, entering the compartment. Sihir helped him with his trunk, and they both sat down. "Thanks. I was hoping I'd see you again."

Sihir smiled back. "Well, glad to have you. I've never actually met a muggle before. Well, outside of when we go to the market or the mosque, but…"

Justin's eyebrow raised slightly. "Never met one?"

"Well, we tend to avoid muggles when we can. Did Professor McGonagall tell you about the Statute?"

Justin nodded. "I see. So, no interaction with any muggles, ever?"

Sihir shrugged. "I mean, we buy things. Halal market for food. It's easier to wear muggle clothes out and about, so we buy clothes in town." He paused. "But as I said, we tend to avoid muggles when we can. Our house is warded from muggles, actually. They can't find it or approach it."

"Expecting anyone else?" A new voice interrupted, belonging to a stout boy with dirty-blonde hair.

Sihir smiled. "No, join us!"

After getting situated, the newcomer extended a hand. "Ernest Macmillan, very pleased to meet you both."

Sihir recognised the name, a prestigious pureblooded family. "Sihir Warren. Wasson?" Sihir shook his hand.

"Justin, Finch-Fletchley," Justin greeted.

"So, either you have any preference on the Sorting? My family has been in Hufflepuff for at least nine generations, so I'm hoping for that."

"Hufflepuff?" Justin asked, confused.

"It's one of the four Houses at Hogwarts." Sihir explained.

"Ah, a Muggle-born, then?" Ernie smiled when Justin nodded. "It's fascinating to think, you had no idea about magic being real until quite recently."

Justin smiled. "I know, it's all still very strange. We thought Professor McGonagall was insane when she explained it to us, but turned our teapot into a gerbil. It was quite a shock for my parents."

Sihir chuckled. "I'm sure."

A horn sounded, and the three felt the train's gears chugging.

"Here we go!" Ernie and Sihir looked out the window, seeing the station zip past, and the countryside approaching.

Justin remained seated. "This isn't some weird, long dream then? We're actually going to learn magic?

Ernie looked back at him, grinning. "That we are, friend, that we are!"

As the train made its way north, Sihir and Ernie explained the Houses to Justin. "Well, there are four houses that students are sorted into when they arrive. Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Slytherin," Ernie began.

Sihir nodded. "Gryffindor is where a lot of adventurer types come from. Chivalrous, brave, et cetera. People say they are more brawny than brainy." Ernie chuckled at that. "Some of the best Quidditch players in Britain have been in Gryffindor, though the actual team hasn't won the Cup in years."

Ernie shrugged. "You can't win them all, I guess."

Justin seemed puzzled. "Quidditch? What is that?"

Sihir grinned. "That's right, you don't know! Quidditch is basically… um, I think football is kind of similar, I'm not sure. It's played on broomsticks in the air, and a few diff-"

"Wait… Broomsticks? You're pulling my leg, right?"

Ernie laughed. "No, flying broomsticks are real."

Justin just stared. "Let's get back to the houses…"

Ernie shot a sideways glance at Sihir, grinning. "Hufflepuff is a little harder to describe. Very fair, hard workers. Impartial. They usually don't get involved in house rivalries, they're a bit more down-to-earth-"

Sihir laughed, interrupting. "'Impartial, hardworking, fair.' Are you at least trying to be humble?"

Ernie grinned. "Shut up."

"Ravenclaw sounds cool."

Sihir chuckled. "Yeah, they do have a cool name, don't they? That's the House I'm hoping for. Their Founder, Rowena Ravenclaw, favored studiousness in her charges. I think I might have a good chance, I like to study history in my spare time anyway, so…"

"History? I hear it's one of the worst subjects at Hogwarts."

"I hear that too…"

"And the last one… Slytherin?"

Sihir grimaced. "That one has kind of a… dark reputation. It was You-Know-Who's House, and most of his followers. Dark wizards."

Justin nodded, more solemnly, though had a puzzled expression. "You-Know-Who?"

Sihir smiled a little. "We don't like to use his name, it just sounds evil, like a dirty word. Remember, this is a fellow that terrorized the wizarding world for a decade. You-Know-Who is… Vol… sorry." Sihir stood, looking through his bag. He produced a piece of paper, and wrote down the name. "I don't want to say it. Here, have a geek." He handed the piece of paper to Justin.

Justin read the name out loud. "Voldemort."

Sihir flinched, sucking in his breath involuntarily.

Justin's face flushed slightly. "Sorry." Sihir waved the apology off.

Ernie coughed. "Not all Slytherins are bad, though. Merlin was a Slytherin."

Sihir looked up. "Merlin?"

Ernie nodded, smiling. "Not the King Arthur one, there was another, a descendant of his. Famously pro-muggle." Sihir was surprised. "And then there's Rufus Scrimgeour, the Head of the Auror Office."

"Auror?" Justin asked.

"Dark wizard catcher."

They continued to give Justin an introduction to the Wizarding World, answering his questions and asking about the Muggle world. They eventually were alerted that they would be arriving soon, and they changed into their robes. The wheels screeched as the train slowed down, and the three looked out the window. A station came into view. A large man, easily nine feet tall, stood on the platform, lantern in hand.

The students filed out of the train, many of them heading towards the path, where a few horseless carriages waited. Sihir made to follow them.

"Firs' years, this way! Don' be shy!" He recognized the man's accent, definitely from the West Country like Sihir, if not Cornwall specifically. Sihir didn't sound much different when his accent came out. The large man on the platform was leading the new students towards the lake.

The crowd of first years, led by the large man they learned was named Hagrid, reached the lake, where boats were waiting. "No more'n four to a boat!" Hagrid called, referring to the fleet docked on the shore waiting for them. "No need t'row, the boats're enchan'ed."

Sihir climbed into a boat with Justin and Ernie, where they were joined by a girl, a bit skinny and red-haired with blue-green eyes.

"Hello, I'm Aoibheann Nic Duibh," she greeted quietly, her Irish accent thick.

Sihir greeted her back, along with Ernie and Justin, but they didn't talk much as the boats started to move, as the first years soon got their first view of the castle, an impressive sight to behold. Oohs and ahs came from all around.

The journey by boat took about a half-hour. Soon they docked, and were led by Hagrid to the front door of the castle. "Everyone here? You there, still got yer toad?" He raised a huge fist in the air and knocked three times on the door.

They were greeted at the door by Professor McGonagall herself, looking sternly down at all the First Years.

"The firs' years, Professor McGonagall," said Hagrid.

"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here." She bade them all follow her into the Entrance Hall, and the students followed her to a smaller chamber off the hall, near the Great Hall where the rest of the school was gathered.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," Professor McGonagall began. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend free time in your house common room.

"The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rule-breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the house cup, a great honor. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours.

"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting." She paused, looking over the students, as if weeding out any imperfections in their appearances. "I shall return when we are ready for you," said Professor McGonagall. "Please wait quietly." She left the chamber.

Most of the First Years looked terrified and remained silent. The few that talked amongst themselves were under the impression that some sort of test would be conducted. A frizzy-haired girl near Sihir was rattling off a list of spells she'd been practicing on the train, wondering which ones she'd need.

Sihir's mother hadn't told him anything of the Sorting, saying it was a tradition to keep the First Years wondering what was to come. Marcus Campbell hadn't said anything either, he only grinned and said "you'll see!"

Sihir's thoughts were interrupted by a few gasps. About twenty ghosts had just floated into the room through the back wall, arguing amongst themselves and taking little notice of the First Years. One passed right through Sihir, chilling him terribly. A rather fat one was dressed as a monk, and was arguing with another dressed in a ruff and tights. "Forgive and forget, I say, we ought to give him a second chance-"

"My dear Friar, haven't we given Peeves all the chances he deserves? He gives us all a bad name and you know, he's not really even a ghost- I say, what are you all doing here?" The ghost paused, suddenly noticing the living occupants of the chamber.

"New students!" said the Fat Friar, smiling around at them. "About to be Sorted, I suppose?" A few people nodded, most were too scared to make any answer. "Hope to see you in Hufflepuff," said the Friar. "My old house, you know." Sihir noticed Ernie Macmillan out of the corner of his eye, smiling nervously at the Friar.

"Move along now," interrupted McGonagall, whose return went unnoticed. "The Sorting Ceremony is about to start."

The First Years followed Professor McGonagall through the Great Hall, which took them between the Ravenclaw and Slytherin tables. All eyes were on them, watching them walk down the aisle. A few seated amongst the students were ghosts, but many more simply floated above to watch the First Years.

McGonagall produced a four-legged stool and set it down. Upon the stool she set an old and battered hat. There was silence as everyone in the hall, teachers included, stared at it. The Hat suddenly sprang to life, a rip in the brim forming a mouth, and it sang:

"Oh you may not think I'm pretty,

But don't judge on what you see,

I'll eat myself if you can find

A smarter hat than me.

You can keep your bowlers black,

Your top hats sleek and tall,

For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat

And I can cap them all…"

The Hat went on to sing about the history of the sorting ceremony, and the qualities and virtues each of the Founders wanted in their students. When the song ended, the students and faculty applauded. McGonagall held up a piece of paper. "When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted."

She turned her attention to a list of names in her hand. "Abbott, Hannah!" A blonde girl moved to the front and sat on the stool, her face betraying her nervousness. Sihir sympathised, as he disliked going first as well. Luckily for him, his name began with a W. McGonagall placed the hat on her head. "HUFFLEPUFF!" The Great Hall erupted in cheers, mostly from the Hufflepuff table, but around the Hall the Houses applauded politely.

"Brown, Lavender!" This girl was sorted into Gryffindor. The Slytherin table was noticeably absent in the applause.

"Crabbe, Vincent!" Crabbe, who looked somewhat thuggish, was sorted into Slytherin. The Gryffindor table was absent applause, this time.

"Finch-Fletchley, Justin!" The muggle-born student approached the stool and sat. "HUFFLEPUFF!" Justin grinned with approval down at Sihir, and went to join his House.

"Granger, Hermione!" The frizzy-haired girl walked up to the stool. She was sorted into Gryffindor, much to her delight.

"Malfoy, Draco!" The hat barely touched his head before the hat sent him to Slytherin. He seemed pleased.

"Nic Duibh, Aoibheann!" The quiet girl from the boat strode up to the stool, and Sihir noticed some of the faculty at the head table whispering discreetly, or at least attempting to. "SLYTHERIN!" Aoibheann's face was neutral as she made her way to the Slytherin table.

"Patil, Padma!" An Indian girl walked forward slowly, and sat on the stool. A few seconds passed. "RAVENCLAW!" She smiled, and walked excitedly to join her House.

"Patil, Parvati!" Parvati surprised Sihir, and he was sure many others, by being sorted into Gryffindor, and not joining her twin.

"Potter, Harry!" A collective gasp found its way through the room, and murmuring not dissimilar to what the First Years were saying earlier. The Boy Who Lived walked slowly to the stool, and sat down. A full minute passed. "GRYFFINDOR!" Harry seemed pleased, and sighed with relief. The Gryffindor table was noticeably more excited then any name previously.

"Longbottom, Neville!" Sihir went pale. Longbottom? "GRYFFINDOR!" I go by Warren, not Mostafa, so he won't know… Sihir looked at the rest of the first years left. Not many. A red-headed boy was looking around too, and shot Sihir a nervous grin and a shrug.

"Warren, Sihir!" Sihir hesitated, took a step forward, and tripped over the steps to the dais. A few people along the benches chuckled, quickly ended with a stern look from McGonagall. Sihir quickly sat down on the stool. The hat was placed on his head.

"Now this is interesting..!"

Sihir was shocked. Are you in my head?

"Yes, I'm in your head. And on it. Not a bad mind at all, reminds me of that Granger girl I Sorted a few minutes ago. Could be a solid case for Ravenclaw. You also know that it's good to have friends in high places. Interesting… you want to be remembered. For something better than your… family history." Sihir's fists clenched in his lap. "Surprised to see Longbottom, were you? What your father did to his parents…"

Sihir's initial shock gave way to fury. He is NOT my father.

"Of course he is. I can understand not taking his last name, however. I sorted Naima Warren thirty years ago, I knew how she'd turn out. Imperioused by a Heka fanatic, forced to have his child. She turned out well, considering. She healed from all that tragedy and became a healer herself. But you… Ambitious. You want ambition? I'll give you ambition. Ravenclaw isn't for you. You won't be remembered as a Ravenclaw. You're going to be respectability back to the House that housed the likes of Merlin. You want to be remembered, young man? You'll be remembered as 'Sihir Of-'"

"SLYTHERIN!" The hat said the last word aloud to the Great Hall, and three tables erupted in applause. Sihir set his mouth in a grim line, nodded, and walked off to join his House.

A.N. The First Year is just a prologue, though we may see "flashbacks" to the first year is future chapters. Please Review and Follow, and I hope I actually finish this damn story I have in my head.