A/NÑSorry for the long silence. Technical difficulties. To make up for the lost time, IÕll be adding 2 new chapters. IÕm also posting a new fic, ÒAs Befits a Gryffindor,Ó so feel free to have a look at it if you like. It has a very different format than this one.

Ice-Snow-Angel: Thanks for the formatting tip, and thanks again for the reviews! I popped over to your profile and looked at your list. My internet problems meant I havenÕt been able to read most of them yet, but I recognized a few old favorites.

DescendingAngel: All I can say is, yes, we will get a full explanation for the MistressÕs behavior, but it will be a long time in coming. ItÕs not just deus ex machina, if thatÕs what youÕre wondering. And thank you again for reading.

In all honestly, I struggled with this chapter a great deal and donÕt like it very much. I may end up taking it down and starting from scratch. I would especially appreciate any constructive criticism down that alley. Thanks!

Disclaimer: Tom Riddle, Albus Dumbledore, Hogwarts, Diagon Alley, the Sorting Hat, and most of the other people and places are the property of JK Rowling.

1 September

Just a day. ThatÕs as long as itÕs been. Just a single day. And now, everything is different. Last night, I sat in a broom closet, starving, dying, with little hope. And now, I write on my own bed, in a huge room, in a magical castle, hundreds of miles from the orphanage, and all the pain it contained. I thought before that my life had changed. Now I know it to be true.

The day began before dawn. The mistress woke me up before dawn to get me cleaned up and ready. I have no idea what the urgency was, and she was in no mood to discuss it. Ever since our little meeting that night, IÕve been trying to figure out the reason behind it, what could cause such a change of heart. No, not a change of heart. A change of mind perhaps. She is no longer mistreating me, sheÕs let me come to school, but I look into her eyes and nothing has changed. There is no kindness there, only contempt. No, I take it back. There is something new there. Fear. For eleven years IÕve been looking into those eyes, and for the first time this morning, I saw fear in them. Not anything obvious, like the shaking terror that IÕve seen in the eyes of the other children all these years. No, itÕs something more subtle, lurking just beneath the surface. She probably doesnÕt even know I can see it. Whatever it is, I rather like it. SheÕs been spreading fear for years. She deserves her taste.

She hustled me out of the orphanage early, and told me to write and inform her when I would be returning. I set out for the Leaky Cauldron, and again was the first to arrive. This time I was greeted by a woman who called herself Professor Hopolloi, the Muggle Studies teacher. It struck me as odd that wizards would waste their time learning about Muggles, but I decided to keep my thoughts to myself. It would not be prudent to offend a professor I might study with in the future. I reassured myself, however, that such interest was not widespread among all wizards. After all, she seemed rather dull to me.

By 10, the various first year students from Muggle born families, most of whom I had seen last month, arrived with their parents. Professor Hopolloi led us all to a bus which brought us to KingÕs Cross. During the bus ride, I examined my ticket for the first time. It said that the Hogwarts Express would be taking us from the station to school at 11 oÕclock sharp, and would be departing from platform 9 and 3/4. I had only been to KingÕs cross once before, but clearly remembered that none of the platforms had had fractions in them. I assumed that their must be more magic involved somehow.

I was proven correct at 10:30 when we arrived. The platform was actually hidden between platforms nine and ten. Professor Hopolloi helped us all load our luggage onto the train before she wished us a good ride and said sheÕd see us at school. She then disappeared with a loud crack. Dull though she may be, she still new her magic.

The wizard families and the upperclassmen started to arrive while we were still loading the train. How I wanted to walk among them, introduce myself, and try and learn as much as I could, but my prudence restrained me, much to my advantage, I later discovered. None of the Muggle borns shared this particular desire. They all seemed rather afraid of the others, like fish out of water, and huddled in the same few compartments at the back of the train. I found myself in one with 3 boys and a girl. None of us knew each other, so no one said a word. I was the one to break the ice, giving them my name, and asking theirs. This I did mostly to make conversation and break the discomfort. I canÕt say I was really curious about them. IÕd been living among Muggles my entire life, even if my life had hardly been typical, and so I couldnÕt learn very much anyway. Still, I figured that if they were the first of their families in the school, they must be exceptionally talented.

For once, I figured wrong. They were just plain Muggles. Run of the mill, normal, terribly boring Muggles who just so happened to have gotten a letter by owl a few months previous. Sure, they had made a few odd things happen earlier in their lives, but other than that, they hardly seemed magical. I chit-chatted nonetheless, speaking while spoken to, and trying to appear as earnest and friendly as possible. No sense in making enemies yet. Prudence is a virtue, IÕve always thought.

The whole train ride was rather dull, on the whole. It seemed to stretch for hours. When the others dozed off, I pulled out a book and read for a while. We didnÕt reach the station until early evening. The conductor told us to leave our luggage on the train. A tall, trim, weathered looking man called for the first years to gather to one side of the platform. He identified himself as Mr. Faunus, keeper of keys and grounds, and said that it was a tradition for the first years to travel to the castle by boat, and then proceeded to lead us along a winding path up into the mountains.

Even now, I cannot find the words to describe my first sight of the castle. We rounded a bend at the top of a hill and suddenlyÉit was just there, perched on a mountaintop, tall, imposing, aloof. And, I thought, this will be home.

A fleet of small boats carried us across the lake into a small cave deep beneath the castle. We were greeted there by none other than Dumbledore, the transfigurations master I had met my first day in Diagon Alley. He, in turn, herded us upstairs through the main entrance hall and into a sort of waiting room. Once there, he officially welcomed us and told us that the start of term banquet would soon begin, but not before the Sorting Ceremony. This, he explained, was a ritual dating back to the first days of the school, which would place us in our House for the rest of our time at the school. Our house was like our family, he told us, and each was named for one of the school founders: Slytherin, Ravenclaw, Gryffindor, and Hufflepuff.

He said plenty of other things as well, but by this point my nervousness had taken over. I barely noticed when he led all of us into the vast Great Hall, in front of the whole student body. I had to keep my wits about me. I didnÕt know what this Sorting would involve.

Imagine how surprised I was when Dumbledore brought out a 3 legged stool and a ragged old hat. I was even more surprised when the hat started to sing. IÕd try and reproduce what it sang, but I donÕt think I would do it justice. It sang about the history of the school, and the 4 founders, and their 4 Houses, and how each took a different sort of person: Slytherin the cunning and pure, Ravenclaw the curious and intelligent, Gryffindor, the courageous and chivalrous, and Hufflepuff the patient and diligent.

No sooner had the hat finished than Dumbledore began calling us forward, one by one, in alphabetical order, placing the hat in each in turn. The hat, then, announced which House the student was to be placed in. I waited, eagerly, for my turn, not paying much attention to anything else.

When the old man finally called for ÒRiddle, Thomas,Ó I walked forward as casually as possible. As soon as he put the hat on my head, it started to whisper to me. For some reason, its words made an impression on me. I canÕt seem to get them out of my head.

ÒInteresting,Ó it said, Òvery very interesting. I could put you almost anywhere. Well, not Gryffindor. Too cautious, too cunning. DonÕt think youÕd fit well in Hufflepuff either. Your patience is boundless, goes with your caution, but, no I donÕt think so. Ravenclaw perhaps. Yes, yes I do believe youÕd like Ravenclaw. You have fine mind, perhaps the finest IÕve seen in centuries. But at the same time, you hardly seem a Ravenclaw. Brilliant, yes, but not curious for its own sake. Always cunning, always seeking a means to an end, and ambitious to boot. Looking to do great things. Slytherin, then? Slytherin will certainly put you on the path to greatness. But youÕre half blood. Salazar would never forgive me for putting a half blood in his House. I suppose it will just have to be RavenÉwait. Wait, what is that? The serpents tongue? It canÕt be. In a half blood? For the first time sinceÉbut that would make youÉNo, I must keep you out of Slytherin. You might fit in well there, perhaps too well, but if I put you elsewhere, maybe, just maybe, the blood will prove the weaker. Ravenclaw may dampen your ambition, but perhaps that would be for the better.Ó

ÒNo,Ó I thought, confused, a bit indignant. ÒThereÕs nothing wrong with ambition. All my life IÕve been put down, trampled, even when I knew great things lay ahead. If Slytherin will make me great, then by all means put me there.!Ó

ÒOh dear me. You do seem a perfect fit for Slytherin. As perfect as IÕve ever seen. But why does my conscience trouble me? Well, I must serve my purpose, regardless. SLYTHERIN!Ó It finally shouted aloud. I must have been up there for 2 straight minutes. It was a relief to be able to finally take my place. Yet, somehow, it made me uncomfortable. There was something in the way that the other Slytherins looked at me as I sat down.

The Sorting was soon finished, and the banquet began at last. Eager not to draw any more attention to myself, I turned my attention to eating and listening rather than talking. I immediately got the impression that I was the only even half blood in the whole House. The rest, even the first years, all seemed to know one another like cousins, which it turned out many of them were. And all of them came from pure wizarding families. That would explain why they had looked at me the way they did when I sat down. After all, the hat had said something about not wanting to put a half blood in Slytherin.

The banquet seemed over in a flash, and then the Headmaster, Armando Dippet, stood up and gave some boring announcements. I was rather lost in my own thoughts, so I didnÕt pay much attention. When he had finished, an older boy led all of us down to our common room. It was located in one of the deep dungeons, behind a bare stonewall. Exhausted by the early rising and the long train ride, and more than a bit intimidated by my fellow students, I decided to come straight up to bed, and take the chance to write before I lost my privacy.

Classes start tomorrow. I canÕt wait. Despite some snags, it has been a good day. I got to school, and was put into a respectable house, one that helps people to great things. Yes, this wonÕt be so bad after all.