Your lips are scarlet, naturally so, and I brush my fingers across them, longing to press my own lips to them once more, but knowing that I should not. It's not a peaceful sleep that you are in at this moment, but a fitful rampage of nightmares. Sleep was never a refuge for you, as it was for me. There were too many nights where I would drift off amidst your fiery rage, or your false tears, for me to not realize the truth about my feeble flight. You awoke me in the night many times with gentle kisses…but then, you also woke me often with a blade pressed to my throat. The difference became minimal in time. It pains me to look upon you, both because you still hold me agonizingly tightly, but also because I can feel your grip slipping away…

Soon the train came to a rattling halt. We gathered our things and stepped tentatively into the corridor of the train and made our way to the door, successfully not being trampled by the boisterous upperclassmen. When we stepped into the dimming light of the evening, we stood in a huddled group, unsure of where to go or what to do.

"Firs' years over here!"

The gruff voice cut through the noise of returning students. My head snapped up as I tried to place who'd said that. It wasn't difficult. Rising at least three feet above the tallest of the students, an enormous man was headed toward the train. He sported an equally large coat of some worn material that reminded me of a molting bird. His feet were clad in leather slippers and cleared a four-foot path when he walked.

"Firs' years come this way! Come with me!"

After a wide-eyes glance at James, we headed towards the giant man, with Peter shuffling nervously behind. We ended up at his feet, or in this case, somewhere around his waist, and stared up at him dumbfoundedly. His beard curled into a kindly smile as he peered down on us.

"Hullo there. I'm Hagrid, Keeper of the Keys. Welcome to Hogwarts!" He chuckled, seeing our awestruck faces. A group of students looking equally as dumbstruck had gathered around us, and were now shoving us along as this 'Hagrid' began to move. I couldn't see much of anything, with all the crowding, but I tried to peer over the heads of my classmates and managed to catch a glimpse of some carriages, apparently waiting to be hitched, as they bore no horses, and wondered if we'd be taking those up to the school which was clearly set some distance away. However, we passed the carriages smoothly and descended a riverbank down to the shore of a wide stretching lake, its surface glimmering ebony like a many-faceted obsidian.

Then, Hagrid moved to the side and I saw about 12 wooden rowboats floating expectantly at the water's edge.

"Four to a boat, hurry along now—don't want to miss the feast!"

James, Peter and I scurried to one boat, and were joined a moment later by none other than Sage Tollins.

She smiled and let out a deep breath. "There was only room for four in our boat…" she trailed off, looking slightly apologetic, but still forward.

I felt her snatching glances at me as the boats began to move, seemingly on their own, but I didn't look at her; I refused to have her push me back into that pit of uncertainty that I still lingered on the edge of. I vowed that I wouldn't let her affect me until I'd resolved this growing discomfort with you. I wished that I could enter your mind just as easily as you infiltrated mine. I wanted to order you to let me go, to stop being so utterly possessive, though even I knew that it was much more than that, even at this point. But no matter how hard I tried to think these thoughts in your direction, they fell upon no one and just battered the edges of my mind.

The boat ride was silent and I could tell that Sage was discouraged. I felt guilty for misleading her on the train ride, but I honestly thought that I was close to breaking away from you, and so I told myself to be patient. Finally, our boats hit the other side of the lake, and the castle now cast us all in its extensive shadow. We were once again pushed along, and I saw that through the bustling, Sage had managed to make her way back to Rhonda and company with a scowl on her face. The doors opened and we were taken into an entrance hallway. In front of the group was a wide staircase that seemed to lead to the heavens, and to our right was a huge wooden door that let through the sounds of talking and laughing, revealing that the other students had already arrived.

I looked questioningly to James. "What happens now? When do we get sorted?" I had realized that no one had ever bothered to tell me how we were placed. I only knew that there were four houses and that you ended up in one of them some way or another. James just shrugged, and I saw a confused look appear in his eyes too, as though I'd spread the thought to him for the first time. Suddenly, the crowd grew quiet and I saw that Hagrid had been replaced by a tall woman who appeared to be in her late thirties. Her tight-lipped smile and general appearance- her hair pulled up tightly into a bun and covered by a tall black hat, her stiff smile, her rigid stance- showed everyone that they could place their bets that she would prove to be rigorously strict.

"Good evening," she said, her voice showing kindness, not forced, but merely formal. "Welcome to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. My name is Professor McGonagall, and I teach all years of Transfiguration. When I open those doors, you will enter the Great Hall and proceed to be Sorted into your houses. For those of you who don't know, the houses are Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Slytherin. Each house has wonderful qualities that you will come to know and after you are sorted, you are expected to sit at your respective House Table."

This little speech seemed to be rehearsed and I could tell that she repeated it every year. Professor McGonagall then moved to the side and swept her emerald green robes out of the way. The doors in front of her opened with a wave of her hand and we were led into a massive room that seemed to have no roof.

Candles floated in the air, not seeming to diminish as they burned, I noticed, staring up at them. We were led to the front of the Hall and stood in a restless cluster, most looking confused, frightened, or a mixture of both. I saw Sage with an apprehensive look in her eyes, huddled with her friends, but immediately averted my gaze. Someone entered the hall with a bang of the door, and all heads turned to see a hunched figure limping into the hall, carrying a stool and muttering under his breath. As he reached the front, he set down the stool and raised his head to nod at the long table that sat all the teachers. Even as he said nothing, a snarl curled his lip and he looked surprisingly inconvenienced to be doing such a simple job.

Atop the stool sat a hat, patched in a few places, and slouched a bit to the right. Silence befell the rest of the Hall and the group around me quieted too. What we were waiting for, we didn't know, but it seemed to have something to do with this sad looking decrepit old hat. A moment of intense silence later, a great tear near the brim opened, and a rough, commanding voice began to sing:

You look at me bewildered,

As you don't know what to say.

You're doubtful of a singing hat-

What could I have to say?

But wait a bit and be amazed,

You may find yourself surprised.

I can tell you many secrets,

That this castle has disguised.

However, this is not the time,

Nor the way or place,

For today I have but one demand-

To be performed in haste!

For each of you is quite unique,

Each holding different skill,

And every one a purpose,

Your House assures you will fulfill.

But where to go, or which to pick?

The choice is not your own.

I'll put you with your proper flock,

My talent always shown.

Will you be in Gryffindor,

Where courage does prevail?

These valiant youngsters bravery,

Makes wicked forces pale.

Or might you seek out Ravenclaw,

Where quick minds are ample?

Those sharp young brains all straining forth,

A scholarly example.

Or perhaps, it's Hufflepuff,

Where housed are many friends.

Fierce loyalty does bind them close,

And honesty commends.

For others it is Slytherin,

As destiny would decide.

Ambition drives these eager folk

To shine against the tide.

So don't be troubled- don't be wary!

Think on me with trust.

There's only good to come of this,

But grumble if you must.

In the end it's all quite clear,

The proof is in your mind.

Let's have a peek inside your head,

And see what we can find.

The rest of the hall began to applaud, and after a moment of astonished silence, the rest of us did as well. Then Professor McGonagall stepped forward once again, a large scroll of parchment in her hands.

"Addis, Jane!" she called. A tall brunette shuffled forward, her cheeks a distinct shade of crimson. After a moments hesitation, she sat on the stool and the hat was placed upon her head. There was a nearly tangible silence for about 10 seconds and I looked on with wide eyes, uncertain of what was to happen next.

"RAVENCLAW!" roared the hat suddenly, making me jump. There was a murmur amongst the other first years. So this was how it happened!

"Atkins, Benjamin!" was called next.

"SLYTHERIN!" proclaimed the hat. I stared at the boy and recognized him as the son of one of the ministry officials that my father used to work with. He'd come to a few of the parties my family had hosted; now he was to be one of my classmates, I assumed, knowing my destiny as a Slytherin.

They moved through the rest of the "A" names, and I found my stomach inexplicably jumpy as the "B" names progressed.

"Besson, Taylor!"

I knew my name was getting close as she was sorted to Hufflepuff.

"Black, Sirius!"

I hadn't expected my name to be next! James shoved me forward with a grin. "Go on, Sirius!"

I felt heat rising to my cheeks, and I felt admiration well up for those who had approached the stool unblushingly. I shuffled forward with my head down and plopped heavily onto the stool, eyes closed, as I found myself unable to survey the expectant crowd.

A voice in my ear- or was it in my mind? - startled me. "Ah, another famous Black child…or should I say infamous?" The question lingered for a moment before the voice continued, "Yes, well normally I'd know where to put you straight away… but you're not like the others…are you? Here's something I haven't encountered in all my years then, eh?" The constant rhetorical questions were making me restless and I struggled to focus. I wasn't sure what the hat was hinting at, but it didn't sound as decisive as I would have liked. "Good mind, son, good mind. You'll do well in- GRYFFINDOR!"

The hat was ripped off of my head immediately, but I didn't leave the stool. Gryffindor? No, no, I was a Slytherin! Everyone had been a Slytherin! "Come on, boy, off the stool," prompted Proffesor McGonagall. I looked up at her, unable to word my concern. "I-I…no, th-there must be a mistake…" I stumbled. She thinned her lips in forced annoyance, but I saw a bit of a smile on her lips. "No, Sirius, the hat doesn't make mistakes…Run along to the Gryffindor table, my boy."

I stood up stiffly and walked numbly to the Gryffindor table, where I was greeted with smiles that I didn't see, and congratulations that I didn't hear. I sat rigidly down onto a bench and stared straight ahead. This wasn't real. I had played out the situation so many times in my mind once I'd grasped the concept of the Sorting Hat. I would smile resolutely as I made my way to the Slytherin table and people would comment how I was "Another Black child, just like the rest of them," as which I would want to strangle someone, but would refrain. I think that my concern stemmed only from shock, because I began to accept the reality of the situation, I found myself pleased. I truly wasn't one of them anymore. I wasn't one of you, Bella. And that satisfied me in a way most other things could not.

I looked around to the rest of the table, where older students were chatting quietly, discussing the new arrivals, as well as their summers, their friends, and Quidditch, which seemed to be the subject of choice among most of the boys I sat near. Before I knew it, "Potter, James!" rang out through the hall and my head snapped up to find that Peter had already been sorted and was now sitting nervously across the table from me, his eyes flitting madly about as usual. I craned my neck to have a good look at James, who was already attracting quite a bit of chatter from the female population. "If only he were older," I actually heard one girl down the table, who appeared to be in her fourth or fifth year say.

James sat, grinning on the stool looking completely nonchalant; a talent I wished so much that I could acquire. He saw me, and his smile brightened even more. "GRYFFINDOR!" the hat shouted after a moment. James hopped energetically off the stool, positively beaming as he rushed down the steps, McGonagall just managing to nip the hat off his head as he passed, with a roll of her eyes. He came over and sat down next to me.

"Wow, glad that's over," he laughed.

I smiled back. "Yeah, it's great." James and I proceeded to watch the Sorting with slight disinterest until the "T" names came along. One after the other, Rhonda Tillman, Kitty Tomas, Sage Tollins and Terralyn Tunders were sorted into Ravenclaw. "What happened to their friend, the red-head…Lily, I think?" I asked, curious.

James looked sorrowful. "Sorted into Ravenclaw, last name Evans…shame, really."

I couldn't help but smile as I looked over to that the four girls were, in fact, joining their redheaded friend at the Ravenclaw table. Poor James. He'd really fancied that girl. "Well don't be too dismal, mate," I assured him, "There's still a chance, you're just not in the same House…"

"Yeah…" said James, looking unconvinced, and making no move to deny his recently created feelings for Lily.

The Hall went quiet and I realized that the Sorting had finished. The cranky looking man had returned to remove the hat and stool from the Hall, and a tall man stood from the center of the teacher's table. His long silver beard hung nearly to his waist, as did his hair that seemed to be done in a number of intricate braided patterns. His blue eyes sparkled, piercingly bright, even from across the room, as he looked over the Hall.

"Welcome, students," he declared, "to another year at Hogwarts!"

"Dumbledore," James whispered in my ear, "They say he's the most powerful wizard alive!"

I looked up at him with new respect as he continued his speech. "I'd like to give the customary reminder to all of you that the Forbidden Forest is not the place for those of you who wish to remain alive to complete your schooling. Also, that to keep the wrath of Mr. Filch at bay," snickers rippled across the hall as the Headmaster smiled affectionately at the limping man who'd brought the hat in and out of the Hall, "all banned items should be kept out of the school, the list of which you can find posted on Mr. Filch's office door, and, if he intends to fulfill the request he's made, at various points throughout the school."

He paused for a moment, but as he opened his mouth to speak again, the doors of the Hall banged open once again and a harried looking woman dragging an extremely hesitant looking boy by the arm hurried in. Professor Dumbledore seemed unsurprised and stepped down for a moment as the woman made her way to the teacher's table. He said a few words to her, as the boy hung his head, looking as though he'd rather not be there. Finally, she kissed the boy on the cheek and left the hall with a troubled look on her face, as though she felt she should leave before she burst into tears.

Dumbledore stepped up once again to speak. "There has been a slight shift of focus, and we have one more student to be Sorted. Mr. Filch, if you please…"

Filch crossed the distance in as few strides as possible and set the stool down rather heavily. Dumbledore didn't seem to notice, and whispered something in the boy's ear. The boy walked around to the front of the teacher's table, where the stool sat and I got a good look at him.

He was pale- unnaturally so, as though he'd had the pigment sucked right out of his skin, except for under his eyes where there were dark circles as though he hadn't slept for days. His eyes held a certain amount of wariness, but defensiveness as well, as though he expected to be attacked at any time- and he was ready. However, his walk contained a sense of being resigned to whatever it was that he was cautious of… as though he couldn't change it; a feeling I knew only too well… His lips were cracked and chapped, and he appeared frightfully thin; his emaciated figure apparent even under his shabby looking robes. As he sat on the stool, he brushed mussed, sandy hair out of his eyes and stared straight ahead.

"Gryffindor!" cried the hat, with slightly less vigor than at the first Sorting, as though it had been awoken from a deep sleep.

There was scattered applause as the boy didn't react at all, but made his way to our table, where he sat a few spaces away from us. "He looks rather ill, then, doesn't he?" I mentioned to James as the stool was once again taken from the Hall. James nodded. "Poor bloke," he added.

Dumbledore stood once again and spoke as though he'd never been interrupted. "Also, I would like to say that we have a new teacher joining us this year- may I present Professor Welshare!" An auburn-haired witch stood from beside Dumbledore, her height reaching only to his elbow. She gave a timid wave to the students who applauded briefly. "Professor Welshare will be teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts, as you may have guessed. Now then, I assume that I'm not the only one with quite an appetite!" He snapped his fingers and the tables became laden with hundreds of dishes filled with food. "Tuck in!"

As we ate, I caught James snatching mournful glances at the Ravenclaw table. I hastily spoke. "So…when do you think we'll get our schedules?" James snapped his head towards me with a bit of a dismissive shake. "Oh! Right…er, I suppose tomorrow…What do you think of the teachers?"

I surveyed them for the first time. Besides the stern Professor McGonagall, and the tiny Professor Welshare, there was an even tinier wizard with graying hair and a good sized beard, along with a plump woman wearing dirt smeared robes and carrying on a conversation with a very large man in a velvet waistcoat. There was no sign of Hagrid anywhere, but there was a ghost hovering above one of the chairs, not eating anything. I grinned at James. "Interesting," I decided.

Having positively stuffed ourselves of the food that seemed to multiply as it was eaten, we exited the Hall with the other students. "Gryffindors!" a voice called. I swung around, hoping for someone helpful, as I wasn't quite sure where we were to go. A girl with blonde plaits and very fair skin, appearing to be around her fifth year was gathering a group of first years around her that I hurriedly joined, dragging James with me. "Hello Gryffindors, my name is Laurie, and I'm one of the Gryffindor Prefects!" she announced this with a toned down sense of pride as she smiled down on us. "I'll take you up to the Gryffindor common room and direct you to your dormitories. If you need anything, feel free to ask me throughout the year. Now, if you'll come this way…" She led us up several staircases before stopping abruptly. I was suddenly jolted backwards into James who tripped before catching himself on the banister. I was horrified to realize that the staircase we were on seemed to be detaching itself from the previous landing. It quivered in the air a moment, before moving to the left and upwards a bit.

"Don't panic, now," called Laurie from the head of the group. "The staircases like to move about quite a bit, but you'll get used to it after a while. They're rather predictable really…"

The staircase we were on stopped with a bump as it collided with a hallway, which Laurie led us calmly into. I turned to James. "Not sure I'll ever really be used to that, now!" I said, raising my eyebrows. James laughed. "After our fair share of 'detours' I suppose we'll catch on… they seem to rather follow a schedule- look!" I looked back, and sure enough the staircase from where came had returned to its original position.

Soon, we came to a large portrait of a very fat woman in a very pink dress. She beamed down on us. "Password?" she inquired.

"Toadstool," answered Laurie without hesitation. She turned to us. "Remember that, you lot, alright? You won't be able to get into the common room without it and it's rather inconvenient to have to wander the halls until someone comes along who knows it," she said pointedly, as though speaking from experience.

The portrait had swung open like a large door, revealing a rectangular opening that we proceeded to climb through. The common room was a spacious circular chamber speckled with overstuffed armchairs and couches, and lit with the cordial glow of a crackling fire. It gave forth the feeling of warmth and fondness, and I immediately felt more at home than I ever had in my own house.

"Boys' dormitories are up the staircase to the right, and the girls' are to the left. I'd suggest you get some rest before your lessons tomorrow!" Laurie finished and went off to the other side of the common room. James was the first one up the stairs, and I followed him speedily.

Once upstairs, we found several different chambers marked upwards to "Seventh Years". We obediantly entered the one marked "First Years" and found to our delight, another fire-lit chamber with 3 four-poster beds on either side of the room. I found my trunk at the foot of one of them, and pulled back the curtains to view my bed. It appeared welcoming and warm, and by the time I snuggled into the cozy blankets that night, I knew that the chamber was occupied by James, Peter, Remus Lupin, and two boys by the names of Dennis Masters and Travis Brown. And it was all I needed to know about these people to still feel as though I could sleep soundly thinking of nothing but the trivial notions I'd had to abandon so often at home. I was home, now.

I want to leave you now. I want to get up, pull on some robes and leave the room. But something is holding me back – good Lord, does it never end? Ha, of course it doesn't. You've held me down by a finger, you've blinded me with a smile, you've choked me with your perfume. Why should it be any different now? It shouldn't be. Somehow, I think that if it was, I might not love you anymore. And that's a thought more intimidating than the certain death your own will continue to hold above me.