'What's your first lesson?' Matthew sat down beside his neighbour at the near-empty breakfast table, peering over the younger boy's shoulder.

'Um... Friday...' the eleven-year-old ran his index finger over the fifth line of his timetable. 'Friday... we've got nothing first up – but then History of Magic at 10 o'clock.'

'What a start,' Matthew rolled his eyes.

'Do you know who it's with? Oscar followed his best friend to the table, inspecting the first-year's timetable more closely than his own. 'Urgh. Gryffindor.' The bottom of his nose wrinkled as he spoke. 'I bet one of them will be out looking for a fight, trying to prove how brave they are.'

'Don't rise to them,' Matthew warned, spearing the end of a sausage with his knife. 'That's all they want, a reaction out of you.' He looked up as Isaac Davies entered the Great Hall, choosing to sit alone at the very far end of the table. 'Is he alright?'

Theo shrugged. 'He didn't say a single word to us all night.'

'That's probably a 'no', then, isn't it?' Oscar concluded, aloud. 'Have you spoken to him?'

Theo shook his head.

'How could we?' Greg answered for his friend. 'All he's done is lie in bed with the curtains shut. Even this morning – we haven't had a chance.'

'That's not normal,' Matthew grimaced. 'What about Kevin the Second?'

'Who?' Theo blinked.

'He means Lucas,' the other first-year explained. 'Kevin Brand's little brother.'

'Oh, right,' Theo started to nod, before quickly turning his gesture into a shake of the head. 'I've no idea,' he admitted. 'He talks about as much as Isaac.'

'It's probably better off that way,' Matthew grunted. 'It saves you from listening to the Brand family history ten times over.'

'He doesn't have to be like his brother,' Oscar warned. 'Just keep an eye on them – both of them,' he insisted. That first lesson will be all about the War, and Voldemort... and Slytherin.'

Greg and Theo were among the first children to arrive at Professor Binns' musty classroom, pushing open a creaky door before staking out a table in its rear right-hand corner.

'How bad can this be?' Theo wondered aloud as he watched Isaac and Lucas slide silently into the desk in front of them. 'What is anyone going to do in class?'

'Don't know, mate.' Greg shrugged. 'Whatever they say, I reckon me and you will be fine,' he glanced ahead, watching Isaac's chin slump onto the desk in front of him, and lowered his voice. 'I'm not sure about the other two, though.'

Very few students were perturbed by the teacher's first appearance through the blackboard at the front of the classroom, prepared as they had been by their friends and families for the ghost's entrance. 'Wizarding History,' he began, 'is one of the most important subjects you will study at Hogwarts. In the last century, our kind has fought three great wars: wars that should have been avoided – would have been avoided – had wizards better learned the lessons taught by history.'

'What, and stop Voldemort with a book?' A boy sitting in the opposite side of the classroom to the four Slytherins interrupted.

'You will raise your hand if you wish to speak,' Professor Binns chastised the boy, who was taller than most of the other children, and had short, black hair that was spiked forwards. 'You should also know that the results of an event – in this case Voldemort's Rising – are not the same as its causes. There were many things that led to the wars, a great many of which could have been prevented.'

The boy lifted his hand, and spoke again. 'What, do you mean like stopping anyone going into Slytherin?' He stared pointedly at the Slytherin children, and Greg and Theo both met his gaze.

'Is that the best you can do?' Greg snapped.

'Thank you, thank you.' The teacher raised his voice, breaking up the quarrel before it could gather any more momentum. 'This is not the place for petty House rivalries. 'As you all almost certainly know, Tom Marvolo Riddle – later known as Lord Voldemort – was a pupil at this school, and a member of Slytherin House.' Isaac hid his head underneath his hands as the ghost continued.

'Alongside his followers, known as Death Eaters,' the spiky-haired boy sneered at Greg as the professor used the phrase, 'Voldemort came close to seizing control of ultimate power in the wizarding world. To understand how – and why – he was allowed to do so, however, we must begin by looking more deeply into his history: and, correspondingly, the history of his school.'

'I don't understand how he can make a war sound so boring,' Theo complained as the lesson drew to a close, doodling aimless patterns on his sheet of parchment as the ghost droned onwards.

'At least it keeps that idiot quiet,' Greg hissed back, applying the finishing touches to a chart that summarised a lesson's worth of information about the four Houses. 'Oscar's right, too: there's nothing here that says Slytherins have to be Dark wizards.' He shook his head. 'Do you think that's all he's got to say for himself? Close down Slytherin?'

'Dunno,' Theo shrugged, 'but I'd almost rather listen to him than to much more of this.'

Fortunately for Theo, the echo of the school bells quickly told the class that their lesson had come to an end. Slinging his belongings into a bag, he started for the exit, only to turn and wait for Greg to file his parchment tidily into his satchel.

'Come on, mate,' Theo tapped an imaginary watch on his wrist. 'Break time!'

Greg rolled his eyes. 'I want to be able to read this when we get set an essay about it,' he countered. 'Besides, it's not like we're going to run out of food on the Slytherin table, is it?' He fastened the bag and followed Isaac out of the classroom.

'Hey, Davies!' The spiky-haired Gryffindor boy stood in wait, accompanied by two other children: an equally tall girl with long, dark hair that dropped halfway down the back of her robes, and a much smaller boy with a pale, freckled face and drab, mousy hair. 'Holly tells me you'll be sleeping in the stable when you go home for Christmas.'

'Hey, Davies,' the other boy joined in as Isaac hurried away along the corridor. 'When do you get your Dark Mark?'

'Do you think you're funny?' Theo called out, drawing the Gryffindors' attention away from their terrified prey. 'Picking on him, three-on-one?'

'Oh, what's this?' The first boy scoffed. 'More little snakes, come slithering out?'

'Piss off,' Greg shot back.

'Or else what?' He pulled a wand from the inside of his robe pocket, jabbing it towards the Slytherin's throat.

'Or else you lose even more points than the five you've just lost for duelling in the corridor,' Oscar's firm voice cut through the air before Greg had the chance to think of a response. 'This,' the prefect snatched the wand from the boy's hand, 'stays in your pocket if you want to keep it.'

'As for you,' he clapped Greg on the shoulder, guiding the first-year away from the confrontation, 'watch your language.'

'But...' Greg stammered, 'I was sticking up for Isaac! Didn't you hear what they said?'

'Yes, mate,' Oscar replied, lowering his voice, 'but what else am I going to say with three baby Gryffindors listening? Now,' he led the two first-years through the doors of the Great Hall, 'where is Isaac?'

'He's not here,' Theo glanced quickly up and down the table. 'He must have gone back to the dungeon...'

'Come on,' Greg encouraged his friend, 'let's go.'

'Ordovicius!' Theo shouted breathlessly, touching his wand to the wall as he had seen Oscar do the previous evening, before hurrying through the doorway that emerged without giving the magic a second glance. 'Isaac!' he called out, scampering into the centre of the common room. 'Isaac!'

'He must be downstairs,' Greg concluded, leading down towards the dormitories and easing open the first-years' door. 'Isaac? Are you in here?'

The scarcely muffled sound of a boy's sobbing answered his question.

'Isaac? Are you alright?' Theo called out into the dormitory, before being silenced by a sharp nudge in his ribs. 'What was that for?' He hissed.

'What do you think?' Greg whispered back. 'Does it sound like he's alright?'

'Oh,' Theo realised. 'Sorry,' he apologised aloud, inching across the room towards the closed curtains that hid the other first-year boy.

'Isaac,' Greg continued, 'you don't have to listen to those idiots.' He sat down on his own bed, beside the other boy's concealed bunk.

'Go... go away!' Isaac's voice gasped. 'You don't understand! Leave me alone!'

'No,' Greg answered, 'you can't stay under there all day. You've got to come out soon, and I'm not going anywhere until you do.'

'Greg...' Theo tugged his friend's robes, cupping a hand over his mouth before he spoke. 'Are you sure? What about lunch?'

'Can you bring me some down?' Greg asked. 'We haven't got anything until...' he checked the timetable in the pocket of his robes, 'three o'clock. He can't stay there forever.' He settled down on top of his mattress, pulling the notes he'd taken in the previous lesson out of his bag.

'Alright,' Theo replied reluctantly, edging back towards the doorway. 'See you later.'

'I mean it, Isaac,' Greg repeated his promise as the dormitory door closed behind the other boy. 'I'm not going anywhere when you're still in there.' He continued, although he knew he wouldn't hear an answer. 'Oscar said last night that your House should be like your family, that we should look out for each other: well, he's right, and that's what I'm doing.'

Isaac didn't respond.

'So what if we're in Slytherin?' Greg's voice became more trenchant. 'There's nothing that says Slytherins have to be evil – just like there's nothing that says the other Houses have to be good. Look at what those Gryffindors said to you, just because you're in a different House.'

This time Isaac answered, but his voice was dry and quiet, drained of all of its energy. 'It's not just because of that,' he protested.

'So?' Greg responded. 'Just because you're in Slytherin? Why else would they be picking on you?'

'Because she's my sister.'

'Oh...' Now it was Greg's voice that lost its purpose. He swore, struggling to work out what the new information meant. 'So, if she said that, then it means your family is magical... and you must have grown up hearing everything bad about Slytherin.' Greg shook his head, before swearing again. 'I'm sorry, mate.'

Isaac grunted recognition, but said nothing more as the bedroom slid back into awkward silence.

'Like I said, though,' Greg spoke again, as much to fill the quiet as to persuade the other boy, 'you're in Slytherin now, but it doesn't have to mean the things you were told it used to.' He continued, remembering the arguments which had convinced himself and Theo the previous evening.

'I've known Matthew for ages, and he's always been my friend, even though he's three years older than me. Oscar's his best friend, and if Matthew trusts him then I do too. Anyway,' he pushed onwards, staring up at the ornate ceiling of the dormitory, not noticing that Isaac had opened his curtains, 'even if that wasn't true, I'd trust him anyway, cause he's looked after us all since we started. They're not Dark wizards, neither is Theo, and neither am I – and I bet you aren't one, either.'

'I'm not a Dark wizard,' Isaac answered Greg's unasked question, his voice almost pleading and his eyes still burning red. 'I just don't understand why I'm in Slytherin.'

'What did the Sorting Hat say to you?' Greg asked gently, pushing himself up to face the other boy.

'It said I needed to be away from my sister,' Isaac explained, staring down at his feet as he spoke. 'I told it I thought that was a good idea, and then it said it knew the perfect place for me to make a fresh start, and before I knew what was happening it just announced I was in Slytherin.'

'Well it's right about being away from your sister, I guess,' Greg offered.

'Yes, but...' Isaac had begun to argue when the sound of the dormitory door edging open silenced him as Theo burst back into the room.

'Greg, I got you some cake from the...' He tailed off, noticing the other boy's pale face. 'Oh,' he exclaimed. 'Hi.'

'Hi,' Isaac returned the greeting, mechanically.

'Isaac, this is Theo,' Greg introduced the other children. 'He's brought some cake for you, haven't you, Theo?'

'What?' Theo hesitated, before catching sight of his friend's sudden eyebrow-raised glare. 'Oh, right, yeah.' He split the serving in two, offering one piece to Isaac as he gave the other piece to Greg.

'Thank you,' Isaac whispered.

Theo nodded. 'That's okay.'

'Isaac's just been telling me his sister's in Gryffindor,' Greg continued, 'that was her outside Binns' classroom.'

'She doesn't like you much, does she?' Theo asked rhetorically, before moving on to another question. 'Are you twins, then?'

'No,' Isaac shook his head. 'She was born in September – she's 12 next week – but I wasn't born until August...'

'Oh, right,' Theo answered.

'He says the Hat told him he needed to get away from her,' Greg explained, 'and that's why it put him here.'

'It put me here because it said it would give me opportunities,' Theo added, before Greg shared his own story.

'I'm here pretty much because I wanted to be in the same House as Matt and Oscar.'

'I know,' Isaac admitted, 'I heard you talking last night.' He swallowed. 'I didn't mean to,' he hurried an apology, 'but I just couldn't sleep, and then you said that it's just tossers who get sorted into Slytherin...'

'I didn't mean you were a tosser...'

'You're right, though!' Isaac gasped. 'It is just tossers. It's always been tossers.' He slumped back onto his bed.

'Why?' Theo argued. 'What makes you into a tosser?'

'I'm in Slytherin...' Isaac murmured.

'So?' Theo raised his voice.

'Leave it,' Greg warned. 'Did you hear what else the Hat said to me, about choices?' He asked Isaac, but continued to talk even though the other boy didn't answer. 'You choose who you want to be, not someone else, not some stupid Hat.' He took a deep breath. 'You don't have to be a tosser if you don't want to be a tosser. It's up to you.' Greg sighed, pushing himself back onto his bunk and swallowing a mouthful of the cake that Theo had brought him. 'Don't be so hard on him, mate,' he whispered. 'Remember how you were feeling last night... and that's without the family thing...'

Theo winced at the memory, and the room fell silent as he paced back to his own bed.

'I still don't get it,' Isaac muttered a few minutes later. 'Why are you bothered about me?'

'We're in the same House, mate.' Greg smiled. 'We're going to be here together for the next seven years. Why shouldn't we be bothered?'

'You're Slytherin...' Isaac argued, 'didn't you hear what Professor Binns said? Slytherins look out for themselves.'

'I know,' Greg kept his voice level, 'but that doesn't change anything. That doesn't mean we have to be selfish.' He sat up. 'Aren't we all better off if we stick together? Isn't that what's best for ourselves... and best for all of us?'

Blinking, Isaac pushed himself up to face the other first-year. 'I guess that makes sense,' he offered, wiping the back of his arm across his eyes. 'Thank you, Greg...'

'That's alright, mate,' he held out his hand, and Isaac took it without hesitation.

'I'd never thought of it like that before,' Oscar smiled as the first-years retold their conversation to their older friends.

'It makes sense though, doesn't it?' The resigned frown that had filled Matthew's face over the last 24 hours had been replaced by a brighter expression. 'Think about the things the Hat says about the Houses. How many people do you think would only fit into one of them? How many of the Houses do you think you're like – even a little bit?'

'I'm not Ravenclaw,' Theo blurted out, and as the other four children laughed at his admission he couldn't keep his head from dropping onto his arms.

'Come on, mate,' Greg nudged his friend gently. 'That doesn't matter. Some things are more important than being smart.'

'Merlin, Greg...' Matthew shook his head in wonder. 'It's only been a week since you were scared stiff of what might happen here... and now...'

Greg smiled thinly, biting his lip as he grew conscious of his cheeks blushing red. 'What else was I meant to do...?'

'Maybe the Hat knew,' Oscar reflected, 'maybe it knew to sort these three together. Maybe it knew more than we thought it did?'

'It's a thousand-year-old hat, Ossie,' Theo looked up sharply. 'I bet it knows things we've never even imagined.'

The other three children laughed as Oscar swallowed, momentarily silenced by the first-year's assertion.

'Who says you'd never make Ravenclaw?' The prefect stammered, before he and Theo joined their friends' laughter.