Within the Office of Dumbledore

The smell of dinner was overwhelming as she curled her knees to her chest. Doubt filled her conscious as she sat quietly, her eyes scanning the empty hallway. The smell of chicken was enticing as her stomach growled angrily in protest. She hadn't eaten in hours and her stomach wanted her to know it. Sighing, she held her breath, the scolding the sound that she made. She wanted to remain inconspicuous, unseen.

"I think maybe I could do it," she heard a voice mutter as she sat motionless. "That way they would all think I was great. I wouldn't be such a wimp anymore. It would be perfect. All I need is to figure out how to sneak into his office." The voice grew louder, panic settling in as Ginny pulled herself off the ground quickly.

Frantically, she searched for a place to hide, her eyes falling on closed doors that would take too long to open let alone hide in. Sighing, she quickly grabbed her bag and ran across the hallway before ducking into a small alcove. Squeezing herself into the cramped space, she held her breath and waited.

"Hello? Who's there? I know I just heard someone," A small boy questioned as she glanced about the hall. "I heard you moving. Please come out. You can't tell anyone what you heard. Please." His voice was squeaky, as if he hadn't yet hit puberty. "Hello? I see your red hair."

Ginny yelped, falling forward from her hiding spot in fear. "I'm sorry," she muttered, her voice stumbling with embarrassment and doubt. This wasn't turning out to be the best idea. "I shouldn't have been listening to your conversation. I should go." Clambering to her feet, Ginny clutched her bag to her chest. "I'll be going now."

"Wait!" the boy said, as he ruffled his hair back tentatively. "You're new here aren't you? I haven't seen you before."

"Yeah, I'm new," Ginny responded instinctively as she glared at the floor. Knots formed in her stomach as she fought to hold down the little she'd eaten. The thick smell of food made it worse as she fought to control her expression. "I was looking for Professor Dumbledore's office."

The boy stood quietly for a moment considering what he should do. "Well, I can take you there," he said shyly. "I'm Peter by the way, Peter Pettigrew."

She backed away abruptly, her hand falling quickly to her side. Peter Pettigrew, she thought angrily. No, it couldn't be. "Pettigrew?" she asked aloud, as she took a step away from him.

"Uh, I, um, that's my name. I don't like it either, but I guess it serves a purpose." He paused for a moment his eyes watching her. "Are you sure you're alright? I could take you to Madame Pomfrey if you feel ill."

Shaking her head, Ginny grumbled. "No, no, I'm fine. I'm sorry; I'm just upset is all. It's my first day and I feel so overwhelmed. This place is huge and then you said your name was Pettigrew and my father was murdered by a Pettigrew…" she let her voice trail off as she bit her tongue. It wasn't a lie. It had been Pettigrew who had killed her father.

"Oh dear, I'm sorry to hear that. I promise you I won't kill you. I-I don't really like killing, it's too messy and well, It's such a shame. I'll take you up to see Dumbledore and then I'll leave you if you still feel uncomfortable."

Ginny shook her head. "Alright, let's go to Dumbledore then. You don't have to leave me, in fact, I'd rather you didn't. I don't feel to well right now." Sighing, she followed him silently. Guilt encompassed her tearing past the fear and hatred she felt toward the boy.

Dumbledore's office sat where it always had on the seventh floor of the castle. Blocking its path, stood a large gargoyle, its face distorted in a grimace. Made of stone, it glared back at the two youths, its onyx eyes stubbornly watching. "Password Please?" it asked, a gruff voice asked pleasantly, its face relaxing.

"Lemon Drops," Peter responded quickly as he smiled. "How are you?"

The gargoyle didn't answer. Leaping out of the way, it kept both eyes trained on the them. Peter shrugged off the feeling and ushered Ginny through the doors that had appeared in the wall. Onto the stone steps, they waited for the staircase to begin it's spiraling ascent to the top. "I didn't think that thing could talk," Ginny said as she watched the doors close.

"It usually doesn't," Peter explained happily. "It only has talked to me once and that was to call me a silly griffin. I-I tripped over my own feet." Blushing, he ran his hand through his hair, his eyes twinkling in reminiscence.

Chuckling, Ginny watched him casually shaking her head. "We've all done that before, no worries. So, is Professor Dumbledore nice?" she asked, drawing the conversation into her own control.

"Oh yes. He's what keeps Hogwarts safe. You do know that Hogwarts is the safest place in the world right? Well, Dumbledore is the reason for that."

Ginny nodded as the doors opened to reveal a large oak door, polished and clean. In the center of the door, rested a brass knocker shaped alike a griffin. Its eyes were made of rubies, a pink-red in the dim light of the candles. Voices could be heard from the doorway, the soft sound of woman's followed by a calm male. Knocking on the door, Ginny held her breath.

"Come In!" Dumbledore called out, his voice tired and strained.

Ginny opened the door slowly, her heart pounding against her chest as she closed her eyes. She didn't want to look at him, didn't want to hear his voice again. Her eyes opened quickly, the soft smell of lilac floating throughout the room. Dumbledore sat quietly behind his desk, moon spectacles hanging around his neck. His long blue robes hung around his shoulders tightly blocking out the slight chill in the room. "Peter, my boy, what can I do for you?"

"This girl needs help, sir. She says she's new here."

Professor Dumbledore glanced at Ginny, a mischievous

gleam in his eyes, before turning to the woman who sat in front of his desk. "Have you heard of a new student, Professor?" he asked cheerfully as though he'd forgotten something important.

"No Albus, I have not." McGonagall said, her voice a little higher and youthful than Ginny remembered it. "I guess we both lost the memo."

Dumbledore nodded. "Well, we'll have to get you settled in. What's your name dear?"

"Ginny," she said pausing as she scanned the portraits along the walls. "Ginny Dippet. I'm a relative of Armando Dippet I think," she finished slowly. "My Mother has been sending me off to school in America, but she doesn't feel it's safe for me anymore. She sent you a letter, I believe telling you my situation."

Nodding slowly, Dumbledore continued smiling. "Well I'm sorry to say, my dear, that I haven't checked my mail in a few days. Things have become increasingly stressful over the past few days. We'll have to sort you into your house, and what year are you in?"

"Seventh sir," she muttered quietly, her stomach starting to loosen. "I'm in my seventh year."

Moving toward the tall cabinet, Dumbledore reached toward the ragged hat that rested on the middle shelf. Patched and worn, the hat moved slightly in his hands. "This is the sorting hat. We'll place it on your head and it will sort you into Slytherin, Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, or Hufflepuff."

Ginny nodded and sighed, the butterflies returning once more. "Alright," she said as she took the aged hat and placed it slowly on her head. It slid down to her eyes, its brim covering her face as she closed her eyes and crossed her fingers. "Come on," she whispered as the first thoughts of the hat escaped.

"Haven't you already been sorted?" it questioned sharply as it snuggled closer to her head. "Ah, yes, red hair, freckles, you're familiar, but where to put you. Tricky, miss, very tricky. I could put you in Slytherin, you've got the mind for it, or Ravenclaw will make your intellect shine, but Gryffindor, now that would work, brave and loyal you are. You truly are tricky, yes; I think You'll do best in..."

"Not Slytherin," Ginny heard herself whisper to the hat as her fingers clutched her robes tightly. "Please, anywhere but Slytherin, please, I don't belong there. I'm ashamed, I know I'm guilty; please, please, not Slytherin."

"Not SYTHERIN," the voice from the hat boomed. "But you'd do well there. Your mind works like theirs does, yes, it does. But if you'd rather not, you have the qualities of a good Gryffindor. Yes, I'll put you there. Gryffindor!"

She let out a sigh of relief a she pulled the hat quickly off her head hoping it wouldn't change its mind. Fixing her hair quickly, she watched Dumbledore shake his head. "Sir?" she questioned uncertainly. "What's wrong?"

The glaze cleared from his eyes as a smile formed on his lips. "Gryffindor it is then. I'll have someone send your bag to your rooms. Peter, will you show Ms. Dippet back to the Great Hall. I do believe dinner should still be going on."

Peter smiled widely as he nodded his head. "Of course sir, I'll be glad to help a fellow Gryffindor out." Wrapping his arm around her shoulders, he turned her around. "Come on then Ginny, let's get some food. I'm starving!"

Ginny nodded unable to resist him. Turning her head back toward Dumbledore, she watched his face turn dour once more. Sighing, she turned back and let Peter lead her to the rest of the Marauders.

"I'll be watching you closely, Miss Dippet," Dumbledore said quietly as the door shut behind them. "I'm not so sure you're telling me the truth."