It is absolutely breathtaking, this interwoven tapestry of magic that is to be my school. I stare at it, mesmerized. There is something about this castle, something bigger, something ancient. It is not entirely dark, not entirely light – though it is my first time seeing such powerful light energy – but something more. It is an amalgamation of the generations of students that had walked these hallowed halls. Hogwarts.

"Meissa," I hear a whine. My cousin's smooth voice is obscured by his whining pitch. It is a pity; his voice is beautiful when he is calm. Regardless, I sigh as I move from my observation area, glancing at that tapestry once more. I will be able to explore the castle's magic later.

"Coming," I reply.

I join the crush of first-years in admiring the ceiling. Such beautiful magic, such old magic. Intricate, delicate works of art. I sigh, contentedly. Draco whispers a quiet "Weirdo" and huffs. I hide a smile.

My smile fades as I consider what is happening now. We are all sorted into four houses. Bravery, loyalty, curiosity, ambition - what does an eleven-year-old know of those? Do they know themselves at all? My cousin is charismatic, but is he cunning? How can they decide who we are meant to be, when we are but children? I do not know.

I stare at the ceiling as children are met with applause after each sorting. Finally, "Lestrange, Meissa," falls through the Professor's lips. I shake myself and walk to the hat. The hall is quiet as they regard the child of His most ardent followers. I shake off their opinions. They do not matter.

I inhale sharply. I look up trying to find it. His aura. I had felt it. It is weakened, but it is somewhere here. I am sure of it. Sinfully beautiful, dark. But where is it? I shake myself out of my reverie and walk to the Professor, who looks at me, concerned. If He's here, what does it mean for me?

I close my eyes, and breathe, as the Hat is placed on me. I must not disappoint Him.

...You can feel him. You can feel the magic.

I gasp as I feel that pressure on my mind,

You really can... Intriguing. Well, let's get on with the sorting now.

Is the hat reading my mind? My memories? It can't be allowed; it does not deserve to touch my memories!

I am not alive, dear child.

Am I a child?

I have lived for millennia - you are a child to me regardless of past lives. And no - never in my time have I ever used any memories outside of my own, for any reason. Your memories are safe and untainted, I can assure you of that. My sole purpose is to sort children, which I really would like to get on with.

I cannot say that in any way I support a breach of my privacy, but, if it is necessary. If it will not share what is mine to share, my pains and my loves, then… perhaps I can permit it.

I am glad to have your approval, it says dryly. Now, for the Sorting.

I would prefer Slytherin.

Are you certain? You have been through much suffering, and Slytherin will not be kind to you.

Will any of the Houses be kind to the daughter of my mother? At least there I will be given the tools with which I can survive.

…So similar to who he once was.

He?

Very well. Perhaps you shall find your path to success there, but be wary. May you find your ambitions in "Slytherin!"

While I walk off in confusion, weary, but there is a thrill of pleasure in the applause I receive. Here is a place I belong. I look at my cousin who smiles smugly at me. A part of me wonders whether this is the right decision - but perhaps it is the best decision I can make. I make myself comfortable.

When there are only so many decisions you can make, the best decision, no matter how painful, might find you reaching your goals. But is the cost worth it?

I feel His aura around me, somewhere, everywhere, calling for me. It is muted in the midst of so many different auras, but its beauty creeps through, wisps of darkness in the air. A reminder. I cannot disappoint Him.