(A/N) I call Mark a muggleborn because his parents were muggleborn wizards. Don't know what else to call him.

Chapter 2 – A Surprising Sorting Ceremony

Mark sat, on his bed, pondering. In front of him, all of his supplies had been organized. Books were in one pile, clothes in another, note-taking materials followed that, and so on and so forth. The anomaly to this collection of standard Hogwarts supplies was the presence of his ball, for meditation. He didn't know if wizards meditated like he did, and he doubted they would take kindly to his misconception of the magic being "the force". But back to his pondering. Internally, he was debating what Hogwarts House he would be sorted into. Would he be selected for Ravenclaw, the house of wit and intellect? It was no secret at school that he had always done well in his classes, regularly scoring at the top of the class. Hufflepuff was definitely an option as well, according to Hogwarts, A History, the valued hard work and loyalty, and he supposed that if they considered the study habits of the students then he might end up there as well. He did not believe that he would be even considered for Gryffindor. He was much too witty, in his opinion, to be surrounded by what most likely would be brash fools, eager for glory. Slytherin, however, stood out to him from the rest for some reason. It both scared and intrigued him. Ambition, the book said, was a prized trait, as well as cunningness and slyness. However, most of the people his Uncle explicitly directed him to avoid would be in that house, seeing as how as most of the rich, wicked (in his Uncle's words) purebloods were sorted there.

Mark sighed. It was no use worrying about it now, he presumed. After all, it wasn't like he would be hated for be sorted in any particular house! The book he picked up, Life at Hogwarts, did speak of intense rivalry in Quidditch (an odd sounding name for a game, he thought), but he assumed that most students would be above that sort of riff-raff. This was said to be the foremost school in all of Wizarding Europe! According to his letter, at least.

Summer was winding down. The days were shortening only as the shadows lengthened, and a crispness was in the air. In due time, September the First rolled around, and Mark prepared to venture into the unknown, into Hogwarts.

"Now Mark, listen" his uncle began, as they stood on the platform of Nine and Three-Quarters. "You just keep your nose out of trouble, and no trouble will come to you. Don't meddle in the affairs of the purebloods, do well in school, and make me proud." He patted him on the back as he hugged him tightly.

"Uncle, what if I am sorted into Slytherin?" Mark asked. The question had been bugging him ever since he considered the houses.

"Well then, in that case, put them to shame. Show them that blood means nothing" His uncle replied. He hugged him and patted his back. "Off with you, then!" he chortled. "Have fun!"

"Will do Uncle! Goodbye!" Mark called as he hopped onto the train.

The glistening red engine pulled slowly out of King's Cross. Picking up speed, it hurtled down the track, passing by wood and water with a great rush of wind. Mark sat alone in a compartment, curled up with The Hobbit. Nary a few passed by his door, although he did see two red-heads running from three girls laughing. Turning back to his book, he was interrupted by someone thrusting the door open. A boy, who looked only a year older poked his head in. Mark looked up.

"Can I help you?" He asked politely.

The other kid sneered slightly. "No, unless you know where that Potter is." He answered.

"I am afraid I don't know, my good man" Mark replied, with a hint of mocking. Blond, pale, and with a Slytherin crest and an entourage of goons in the hall behind him? Most definitely a pureblood.

The blond sneered again and left, slamming the compartment door rudely as he went. Mark just sighed and turned back to his book again. The nerve of some people he though. Barging in without so much as a by-your-leave.

The train continued on.

Awhile later, the door opened again. Another student, this one obviously a first-year like Mark, sat down across from him with his trunk.

"Do you mind terribly if I sit here? I didn't particularly care for any of the others. I'll let you read in peace." The child said.

Mark lowered his book. "What was wrong with the others, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Most of them are filled with people who aren't very amicable to first-years like me, and the others are too much, either loud, or annoying, or both" he replied.

"Well, may I get your name? Mine is Mark Fulghum" Mark asked.

"Of course! Andy Harper, at your service!" Andy replied.

"And I am at yours, my good sir!" Mark giggled, standing and performing a bow. Both boys laughed and settled back down. Mark decided to engage in conversation and bookmarked the page and set his book aside. "May I enquire as to what house you want to be in?" Mark continued.

"I aim for Slytherin, actually. Like my mom and dad. They both work for the Ministry of Magic, you know. And not because of their families, surprising as it may seem" he offered.

"Oh? Care to elaborate on that?" Mark leaned forward in his seat.

"Well, they're both purebloods, but they made sure that the jobs they applied in had bosses that didn't know their families. Wanted to do it on their own skill, you see. They both told me that the Sorting Hat told them that they had great ambition, so I guess they belonged there. Don't hold my purebloodedness against me, though. Neither of my parents' families supported You-Know-Who" he continued.

Mark smiled. "I don't hold it against you. I am relieved that you don't support the man whose followers killed my parents. I honestly don't know what house I will be in. Fate shall always as she shall, though. I'm sure I'll be happy with my place."

Andy grimaced. "That sucks. Say, why ought we not to be friends, mate? Call me Andy." He extended his hand.

Mark took it with a grin. "Call me Mark" he replied.

"We will arrive at Hogwarts in fifteen minutes. Please prepare for our arrival"

Both boys went to their trunks and dressed in their robes, pinning the badge of Hogwarts on their chest.

"Best of luck to you, Andy"

"Thanks. Same for you, Mark."

The train came screeching to halt in the station at Hogwarts. Chattering, the students swarmed to the carriages that awaited them.

"Firs' Years! Firs' Years o'er here!" A giant of a man called over the crowd. Andy and Mark made their way to the docks where the other new students, clustered and shivering.

"Ar'ight, now listen. No more than three ta' a boat, and there's a low part that yer gonna want to duck. My name's Hagrid, Keeper of the Keys and the grounds at Hogwarts" Hagrid instructed.

Mark quickly grabbed Andy and they hopped in to the first available boat. Another student, a girl with red hair, also joined them. The small boats set off into the lake.

Coming around the bend, Mark caught his first look of Hogwarts. Towers and ramparts ascended and crossed, lights shone, flickering like candles from the windows. Two towers stood out from the lesser ones, looking over the rest of the castle. A bridge he also saw, extending over a yawning chasm, bridging the gap between the main castle and the outer fields. A great hall dominated the foreground of his vision, and below it there was a dock. The students gasped at the sight. Mark himself felt overcome by the splendor of the castle. He turned to Andy.

"This, this is a school?" he whispered in disbelief.

Andy nodded blankly, too mesmerized to offer anything more. They came to the dock at last, where they disembarked.

"I will take them from here, Hagrid" A woman was waiting at the docks for them. "I am Professor McGonagall. Welcome to Hogwarts."

The students gasped as they were lead into the Great Hall. Over their heads, the ceiling twinkled with the starry lights of the night that was outside. Professor McGonagall strode forward and set a hat on a stool. The brim of it cracked open, and it began to sing…

Oh you may not like my looks, or you may be repulsed by my smell

But I am the Sorting Hat, and you'll find I do my job well

When you step up to the stool, and raise me up to your head

I will find the best house for you, for you to be lead

In Gryffindor, there you'll find, the brave and the bold

In Ravenclaw there are stores of knowledge great and old

In Hufflepuff, there you will see the fruit of your labors

In Slytherin there you will have cunning and crafty neighbors

So step on up, don't be afraid, I haven't failed yet

You'll be placed with accuracy in the best house you can get!

The students applauded for the song as Professor McGonagall rolled open her list.

As the first student walked up, Mark turned to Andy.

"Good luck, mate" he whispered.

Andy smiled back.

Soon enough, "Fulghum, Mark!" was called out. Mark walked forward, sat down, and placed the old hat on his head. Mm, yes, indeed. Ravenclaw, or Slytherin, you say? Can't say I am surprised. Mark said nothing and simply waited patiently. It wasn't like the hat would still be here if it was defective, right?

Oh I assure you, Fulghum, I am not defective. But don't you have an opinion on which house you want? Most students do.

I trust you enough to place me correctly, Mark answered. But if you insist, I think I could accomplish the most in Slytherin.

That indeed you could. The Hat replied. Very well. "SLYTHERIN!" it shouted. The silver and green table applauded politely and Mark grinned and swept the hat of his head. He walked over and sat down to watch the rest of the Sorting. Now that it was over for him, he felt quite hungry and hoped for it to hurry up a bit.

Later, "Harper, Andy!" was called. A few seconds passed, and then the hat proclaimed, "SLYTHERIN!" Andy walked over to the table and joined Mark to the applause of his new housemates.

Now, with the Sorting finished, the Headmaster stood.

"Now I have a few words, but this is not the time for them, hm? Dig in!"

Mark and Andy both took the plunge into the rich variety of foods offered. It was mostly quiet at the Slytherin table, for the first few minutes at least, as they eased the pains of hunger first before catching up with friends. Halfway through, however, another sour-looking Professor swept in and spoke briefly to Professor McGonagall. Her lips narrowed, and she gestured for the other to lead them out. Mark turned to Andy.

"I wonder what that was all about, hm? Problems already for the Professors?" he chuckled.

Andy chuckled as well. "I suppose we will find out later if it has any importance to us" he replied. Later, they both watched as the Headmaster got up and left as well.

"Someone, or something is in trouble, I guess" Mark commented. Andy merely smirked.

Later, all three of the Professors returned, and the feast moved on to dessert. When they were all pleasantly full, the Headmaster stood again.

"Now, a few announcements. First off, I would like to welcome Professor Lockhart to the teaching staff" at this the man in question smiled with sparkling teeth. "He will be teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts. Also, I must remind you that magic is not allowed in the corridors between classes. The Forbidden Forest is also just that, forbidden" he looked briefly to the Gryffindor table. "Now that you are all pleasantly full, off to bed with you lot! Chop chop!" He clapped his hands. At once there was a great scraping of chairs as the students rose for their beds. One of the Slytherin Prefects approached the first-year, many of whom were clumped together in fear.

"Now, follow us to the dungeons, please. There we will tell you the password" the prefect explained.

They traipsed down to the dark areas of the castle, where at the statue of a snake the prefect spoke. "Mastermind" he intoned. The wall behind the statue slid open. "Now, this password updates monthly. Please check the notice board in the common room so you don't miss it. You, ladies, will find your dorms there," he pointed, "and the lads are over there. Now I recommend a good night's sleep, alright? Classes start tomorrow." With that, he left them.

Mark and Andy both headed over to their dorms, labelled "FIRST YEARS". With the other four boys, they stepped inside. Arranged in a half-circle around a blazing fire place were six beds with green drapes trimmed with silver. The top blanket on each bed was a dark green, surmounting pale green sheets accompanied by white pillows. Black cloth hangings on the walls lent a feeling of coziness and warmth and served to keep in heat during the cold winter months.

"It's cozy" Andy pronounced. The others agreed. After they had all washed and changed, they sat on their beds, to introduce themselves.

"Mark Fulghum"

"Andy Harper"

"Emmanuel Reed"

"Anatole Wilhelm"

"Samuel Alyeska"

"Alexander Vladislav"

Mutual sayings of "My pleasure to meet you" and "Many greetings" followed.

"Well, as the wise prefect said, we ought to turn in, yes?" Alyeska offered,

The others agreed, and soon the room was with the quiet of sleep.