"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.

There's nothing hidden in your head
The Sorting Hat can't see,
So try me on and I will tell you
Where you ought to be.

You might belong in Gryffindor,
Where dwell the brave at heart,
Their daring, nerve, and chivalry
Set Gryffindors apart;

You might belong in Hufflepuff,
Where they are just and loyal,
Those patient Hufflepuffs are true
And unafraid of toil;

Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,
if you've a ready mind,

Where those of wit and learning,
Will always find their kind;

Or perhaps in Slytherin
You'll make your real friends,
Those cunning folks use any means
To achieve their ends.

So put me on! Don't be afraid!
And don't get in a flap!
You're in safe hands (though I have none)
For I'm a Thinking Cap!"

"They look so scared," Fred whispered to his brother and George chuckled quietly in response. The Weasley twins were a force to be reckoned with and notorious trouble makers. But they were also her friends so Marina settled for smacking them upside their heads instead of jinxing them.

"Hey!" George protested grumpily. Their older brother, Percy, had been named Prefect this year but he didn't comment. He knew Marina would have a good reason.

"Your little brother is in that line," she whispered unimpressed. The twins had three older brothers – Bill, Charlie and Percy –, one younger brother and a little sister. Naturally, sibling rivalry ensued.

Hannah Abbott was called up and McGonagall placed the Sorting Hat on her head – poor girl looked terrified. It didn't take the hat long to make her a Hufflepuff. Susan Bones soon skipped over to the same table – Marina saw the girls hug happily. Lavender Brown then became the first Gryffindor; she covered her ears at the twins' whistling. Watching the first-years was always a tedious exercise. Marina wasn't at all surprised when Draco Malfoy, her second cousin, followed the family tradition and was sorted into Slytherin; the kid looked impossibly smug.

The girl named Hermione Granger reminded her of Carmen at their own Sorting Ceremony: a bundle of nerves and mumbling to herself. Hermione needn't have worried; the hat didn't stay on her unruly, brown hair for long before declaring her a Gryffindor. Her grin almost split her face.

Another handful of students later, the time had come.

"Harry Potter!" McGonagall called out and the entire Great Hall descended into stunned silence and exited whispers. The rumours had spread already, of course, but now they had prove that the Boy Who Lived was here.

Harry pushed his way through the remaining first-years and walked up to the chair.

Dear Merlin, he's a miniature James, Marina thought to herself. He shared his father's raven black hair that just wouldn't stay down; she was willing to bet he'd given up on combing quite some time ago. Harry wore round glasses that resembled the ones James had worn in school uncannily.

Marina fidgeted uncomfortably in her seat as the thought struck her if Harry even knew how James had looked like. Hagrid's owl – she'd badgered him into promising he'd send her an update once he met Harry – had left her worried. Her trepidation had proved true: he hadn't had a clue who he was to their world so Hagrid, of all people, had been forced to explain. Apparently, Lily's muggle family hated magic so they had never told Harry he was a wizard. Their resentment extended to the boy himself; he had only ever received his cousin's second-hand clothes, he'd never in his life been given a birthday or Christmas present and his aunt and uncle had made it abundantly clear that they'd never wanted him. Marina once again thanked Merlin that she'd ended up with Dromeda and Ted.

Also, Harry didn't know anything about his parents. Up until Hagrid had enlightened him, he'd believed they'd died in a car accident, for heaven's sake. James and Lily had never driven a car in their life. Well, maybe Lily before she'd gotten her letter.

Marina snapped herself out of her musings and focused back on Harry. He looked just as worried as everyone else before him had. She noticed that Dumbledore straightened in his seat, truly focused for the first time since the Sorting had started.

The hat took its time. Harry was holding onto the chair with a death grip, his knuckled turned white. Good grief, he was worried.

An image flashed through her head: Harry on a broomstick, dressed in scarlet and gold, flying across the Quidditch pitch.

For a moment she wondered if it had been one of the memories she'd seen of James but the slight dizzy feeling she suddenly had told her she'd had a tiny vision.

"Not a word to Harry about me," she announced to the Gryffindor table and everyone turned to look at her in question. The older students, including the Weasleys to her shock, nodded once in understanding. The younger ones seemed confused but obliged too. Just as Percy was about to ask why she'd demanded their silence, the Sorting Hat opened and the cleft announced,

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Even as Harry sagged in relief, Hermione looked at her in astonishment, asking a dozen questions in lightning speed as to how she'd known Harry would join them. Marina shrugged, in no mood to explain, and applauded right along with everyone else. Her honorary brother, as she'd titled him in her head, received the biggest applause yet. Not that he noticed.

Harry made his way to their table as fast as he could, eyes downcast, and only looked up to shake everyone's hands as the Weasley twins cheered "We got Potter!" over and over again.

Marina sat opposite Percy, so when Harry slid onto the bench next to the redhead, his eyes fell onto her. She had to swallow a frog-sized lump in her throat. Everything about him was a mini-version of James, except those eyes; they were Lily's vibrant forest green.

"Welcome to Gryffindor," she greeted him calmly in comparison and Harry was the one to reach out and shake her hand. He seemed a bit confused as he kept looking at her.

"Have we met before?" he burst out suddenly. His cheeks reddened a little, but he proved to be in the right house already, not dropping his gaze from hers. She sighed inwardly.

"A long time ago," she confirmed and prayed he would leave it at that, at least for now. Harry wasn't stupid though: he knew they couldn't have met while he'd been with his relatives and that only left the year with his parents. Curiosity shone brightly in his eyes but he just nodded and focused back on the front of the Great Hall.

The youngest Weasley to date was pronounced a Gryffindor as well, much to his obvious relief, and sat down opposite Harry. That only left one student, Zabini, and he joined Slytherin.

Angelina, Alicia and Katie, the three girls on the house Quidditch team, roped her into a discussion about just how hard Transfiguration and Charms would be this year. Marina herself was more worried about Potions. It was common knowledge that Snape favoured his own house, Slytherin, above all others and there was no equal to his hatred of all things Gryffindor. But maybe, she thought in concern, that had changed today: she didn't like the look Snape was shooting Harry at all.

2nd week of school...

"Black!" McGonagall called her. Transfiguration had been a pain and she had Potions after lunch. The only upside was that this year, the third-year Gryffindors had to suffer through Snape's torture with the Ravenclaws, meaning she would have her best friend with her.

"Good work today," her Head of House commented and Marina huffed a little.

"It's taken me a week to get it right. I've never needed that long for a Transfiguration Spell before." Charms on the other hand had always been a problem. Once she mastered a spell, it was powerful without fault but until she figured it out... disaster.

"Don't be too hard on yourself. That's what I'm here for."

"Comforting," Marina said, deadpan. "Did you need something, Professor?"

"It's about Harry," McGonagall admitted and erected a privacy shield. Merlin, Marina wished she could master that charm already. It would keep all the eavesdroppers at bay.

"He's having some difficulty with Transfiguration and I do not believe it's a lack of power or talent. Merely a lack of focus," her professor explained. Marina snorted quietly.

"Can you blame him? With all the Boy Who Lived nonsense, it's a miracle they don't expect him to conjure a mansion out of thin air."

"Indeed," McGonagall agreed easily and her suspicion rose. "That is why I would like you to tutor Mr. Potter a bit, if you would. With your talent for my subject, I am certain he can overcome whatever it is that's holding him back."

Marina stared. This was the sneakiest thing she had seen anyone do up to now, because it was a valid excuse her professor was using.

"Why is everyone pushing me to talk to him?" she grouched regardless, for once sounding the moody teenager she was supposed to be. Dromeda would be thrilled and mortified all at the same time. So far Marina had done a stellar job of avoiding Harry; it was made easy by the fact that he wasn't really looking for her.

"I can't speak for others-," McGonagall said, "-but I believe you both need it."

Well, Merlin knew she wanted to talk to him. But what was she supposed to say? How was she supposed to explain how she knew so much about his parents when he knew next to nothing? And just how the bloody hell was she supposed to explain why she'd never come see him? She didn't want him mad at Dumbledore for leaving him there. She didn't want him mad at Dromeda and Ted either.

Then again, she was ahead of herself. Who was to say he'd get mad. Maybe Harry wouldn't care – wouldn't like her.

She was honest enough to admit that it was the crux of the problem. After all these years wondering about him, even missing his (admittedly infant) smile, Marina didn't think she could handle it if it turned out that he couldn't stand her.

"I just appointed Mr. Potter as Seeker," McGonagall mentioned. It wasn't as much of a non sequitur as one might think. Instant pride welled up in her chest, thinking James would have been thrilled. And then she realised Harry probably didn't know that either.

McGonagall was watching her with knowing eyes. Marina sighed her surrender.

"Alright. I'll catch him later in the Common Room."

Harry POV

It was pretty late and the Common Room wasn't as crowded as usual. Ron was off to get some advice from the twins – his friend would never go to Percy and after a look at the Prefect's face, Harry agreed. Percy was too... well, too Percy to ask for help.

In the meantime, he was sitting in a corner by himself, staring at a match and trying to figure out how to turn it into a needle. Hermione, of course, had done it at the end of last week. He wasn't the only one who hadn't done it yet, not at all, but he wanted to get it right.

"Don't try to force it."

Harry looked up from the uncooperative match.

It was the girl he'd seen at the Sorting Ceremony. She was two years older than him, in Fred and George's class, but so small you wouldn't know it from afar. She had blonde hair that looked slightly frizzly and sea-green eyes that looked oddly familiar. He couldn't shake the feeling that he knew her somehow. Also, the look in her eyes was definitely familiar; like she'd never been truly happy a day in her life either. Harry saw that look in the mirror everyday.

"Marina Black," she introduced herself, probably knowing that he'd already asked around about her, and sat down with her wand in hand.

"Don't think about it so much. A lot of magic comes from emotion. Your wand can sense it when you're nervous. Holly?"

"And phoenix feather," he nodded and her eyes widened in surprise.

"Well, then it definitely senses your nerves. Just stop driving yourself round the bend."

She almost casually pointed her wand at the match, only whispering the spell, and it immediately turned into a needle.

Harry noticed the Weasley twins frown at Marina behind her back. They looked almost as disgusted as they did when looking at Malfoy.

"You a pure-blood?" he asked before he could stop himself. She looked at him sharply, before pointing her wand and mumbling the reversal spell, making the needle a match again.

"Yes...ish. Mum was a muggle-born. Why?"

"The twins..." To his surprise, Marina grinned.

"I beat them at their own game for a change. They're sulking."

"Did you say your mum was muggle-born?" he asked, catching on rather slowly. Her smile died.

"Yes. She died in the war. She wouldn't just sit by and do nothing – as if Voldemort wouldn't have ordered her dead already, for being a muggle-born. What?" she added when she noticed his wide eyes.

"I thought you don't say his name"

Marina harrumphed, unimpressed.

"I will not be scared of a bl... ruddy name," she grouched, sounding as if she'd had that argument before.

"That murderous coward cost me my parents," she kept going. "I'll be darned if he takes anything else."

Now Harry understood the look in her eyes. Marina was an orphan too.

"So who raised you?" he asked curiously. She grinned again.

"My cousin, once removed. But I call her Aunt. She and her husband took me in. But it was a group effort, really. My godfather was denied custody due to... some messed up circumstances back then. But he drops in every other week or I go to visit. They are the best thing that could have happened to me, given the situation."

Marina hesitated for a moment. If Harry didn't know any better, he'd say she was doing what he did most of the time these days: rallying all his Gryffindor courage before saying or doing something.

"You know... my godfather knew your parents pretty well. He asked me to keep an eye on you," she admitted, obviously worried how he'd take that bit of news.

"That's okay," he smiled, secretly thrilled that someone cared enough.

Maybe she thought he didn't know but he'd noticed her watching him this past week. He'd also been told by the twins, who'd sworn him to secrecy, that she had jinxed an older student who had wanted to ask him some uncomfortable questions; like whether he remembered Voldemort. No one had approached him. Fred had been pretty confident that no one would with one of the best witches around watching his back.

"Any tips on how to survive Snape?" he asked, partially to lighten the mood, but also serious. Marina snorted.

"Never talk back, swallow all smart-arse comments and take his ludicrous punishments in stride. There really is no winning with Snape. Just focus on studying Potions so he can't fail you. My best friend is pretty darn good and she's offering to tutor any first and second-years who need it."

"At this rate, I might just keep that in mind. Now about that match..."