AN: This chapter has more going on than the previous one. It's also at a faster pace, but bear in mind this was supposed to be the latter half of the last chapter, so the pace was picking up. It'll be like this on the next two installments too. A lot is going to get highlighted.

I hope you enjoy!

Chapter 33: The dream, part II

The ceiling was arched, the wood shinning in whites and greys as the lifeless color of light in the dream illuminated the area. I saw standing in an opened room, in the middle of it, lost in its hugeness. There were no chairs, tables, beds or any other furniture of the sort one would expect a room to have in St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. Then again, I had never expected there to be a spell capable of turning a normal size room into a space big enough for a dance.

The only occupants, that I knew off and remembered, were me and Dumbledore.

"Merlin was excellent in any aspect of magic that he touched." The Professor was standing on the other side of the room, but his voiced carried out perfectly through the distance. Either that was natural or he used a spell for it. "Though most of his life outside of his association with King Arthur lie shrouded in mystery, what information we do know of him is incredibly valuable. Books speak of his rich thirst for learning, of the vast experience he gathered in his long life and of course, his proficiency and knowledge in magic. He was an expert user of charms. His bewitchments and enchantments are legendary, earning him the title of Prince of Enchanters. An extraordinary wizard, one which we were lucky to have."

"So far, you've matched him in study regimen and learning speed, your blood knowledge is an advantage." Dumbledore went out to say, pulling out his wand from within the folds of his robes and pointing it at a corner of the room. "But you will find that instantly knowing everything about a spell is quite more difficult than executing it. Today we will practice the first spell list in The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1."

Dumbledore conjured up a dummy for me to practice, and I had almost forgotten about the formidable thing. Strange and imposing, it had the form of what I later learned was a hippogriff. For a couple of weeks, I had used it as a receiver for my practice spells. It bounced from side to side, absorbing the weak impacts of my weak spells. But then for a practice, the Professor didn't conjure it up, and I was beyond surprised to see him point his wand at me to begin what would be a horrible score of spars. The wizard was a great teacher and I learned quickly, but he was in a sense, ruthless. Always pushing me to do a hundred times better than the previous day, to go beyond whatever I thought I was capable of. Though I learned a lot, sparing with Albus Dumbledore wasn't something I enjoyed, I didn't even remember it fondly, however now that I saw myself fire weak spells to the dummy as Dumbledore looked on, I realized I should be thankful, in a sense. If it wasn't for his abysmally forcing insistence of me pushing past my boundaries, then I wouldn't have stood a chance against Mulciber. I wouldn't have been able to fight him.

At least there was that.

Witnessing my spar didn't last long. Or it didn't seem like it to me. For all I knew, hours could have gone by. Before I knew it I was back in my room in St. Mungo's. I was sitting on the provided desk, massaging my head as another book, by the looks of it Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, laid spread in front of me. I had two towers of books to one side of me, and I specifically remembered they were my Not read and Read piles. In my hand, I held a quill. There was a spatter of ink on a piece of parchment I was making notes on, as my body tired to alleviate what must had been another ache in my head.

My attention was suddenly grabbed, and my body moved, inching away from my chair with trepidation. Then I heard muffled voices coming from the other side of my hospital room door. I pressed my head against the wooden door, hearing clearly what was being said on the other side.

"Her mind is in a precarious strain." I heard a voice say and it only took me a short moment to recognize the voice as Head Healer Pyek. She was ever in charge of my well being while in St. Mungo's. "I understand her need for an education, but her health will not improve so long as you continue her in this pace. She needs rest, Headmaster Dumbledore."

The one she was talking to, the other voice was easy to recognise too, even without knowing to whom it belonged. Dumbledore spoke to her. "Magic, under a diligent and responsible wizard can be hazardous, you most of all should be well aware. I do not like to imagine the propensity of peril power such as hers can achieve while it remains unchecked. She needs, and to this the Minister for Magic agrees, to learn how to control her power."

That much I had been told repeatedly, even when the Minister for Magic himself Harold Minchum visited me. Like the Headmaster, Minchum fomented my education. But hearing Dumbledore saying it to Pyek didn't sit well with me at that moment.

"You are not teaching her how to control it, sir. You're probing just how far she can go." Her voice reached a higher octave, and that put me on edge. I never liked that her words were accurate. After hearing her say those words, and the fact that while being under the gaze of the wizard left me feeling like my mind was a private place, I never really felt at ease around him. It was then that I had begun to think that I was an experiment to him, research to be exhausted to answer questions about a person that had been dead for centuries.

The next I knew I was sitting on my desk again. Dumbledore had produced a chair next to me, and he was reading the notes I had taken from the previous books he had brought for me to study. The tittles of the books he was taking back gave me the impression that a least a couple of weeks had gone by. Especially since the new books he seemed to have brought were from grade four of Hogwarts.

"Excuse me, Professor." I said a couple seconds after staring at a page of one of the new books. At my call, the Headmaster looked up. I went on, my voice hesitant as it came out of my mouth on its own. "I was wondering when I would be able to meet with the portrait of Merlin you spoke off."

He wasted no time in answering me, returning his gaze back to my notes when he finished talking. "As soon as Head Healer Pyek deems you able to set foot out of the Hospital."

In no way I was appeased by his answer. Pyek would have had kept me at least three more months in the fourth floor of St. Mungo's. I had long gotten pass my tolerance of being a permanent resident of the hospital. Dumbledore putting more stress on me by bringing new books every few days, I felt like I had to read them as soon as possible. I did enjoy learning, though the headaches of activating my blood knowledge weren't pleasant. The more books I got, the less time I spent staring at bare walls, reading all day and till the wee hours of the night. With the blood knowledge and Pyek's concern over my mental strain, I would end up trapped in the hospital up until I became a matured adult. I wouldn't sit idly with that. I remembered how desperate I had been, to get out of that place, to get away from that room and the sick people around me.

"Professor," I interrupted again. "Was Merlin private tutored too?"

"I've found no such information in my studies." His eyes were still on the parchment of notes. "He attended Hogwarts in his time."

I had looked down, and it was evidently clear that I was painfully grasping unto the edge of the desk with my hands. Why I was like that, I don't remember. Not once I had been afraid of talking to Dumbledore about anything. Yes, I had been unsure of whether to speak to him at all, but that was hardly a reason to have my knuckles tense on the wood. Though, I had to admit that maybe it wasn't fear of talking, but more of whatever I said being rejected. That certainly was worst. "Could I go? To Hogwarts, I mean."

"You are too old to start."

I was right. Back then I had been afraid of my words being rejected, of looking like a fool for wanting something I wouldn't be able to have. I had no idea why I wanted to go to the magical school. Books and eventually other teachers were things the Ministry had offered to me once I was ready to ask for them. But knowing how to properly use magic wasn't something I wanted. In a way, thanks to Merlin, my blood already held all the knowledge I would need to become as great as him. There was more to it than that.

I had arrived into a world where I had no living relative, where I would be imposing on the government for the rest of my life as a descendant of a famous wizard, a place where I was alone. People came and went in the St. Mungo's, barely any of the friends I had met while there stayed for more than two weeks. The staff was supposed to take care of me, and Dumbledore would be leaving me in a couple of weeks to do his job at Hogwarts. Any relationship I had managed to form with anyone didn't last. I guess I saw the school as the one place where I could find a place for myself. A place where I would find people of my age that I could befriend and form bonds of lasting friendship. A place I could look forward to be in. A place to belong.

Now Dumbledore was saying that I wouldn't be able to go, and I remembered the wretchedness I had felt at that moment.

But Merlin had gone to Hogwarts, and it was known that like me he had fallen out of the sky as a young teenager. I wanted to say that but was unable to. Maybe the Four Founders of the school considered his situation and gave him a special permission. The me in the dream went on, deflation evident in my voice, yet unafraid to bargain for what I desired. "Can't I enter in another grade, one closer to my age?"

"We are not specifically sure of your age, Faraday. And it would be hard, excruciating difficult to enter a higher grade without the years of study under it. You lack not just knowledge, but experience as well." Putting the parchment down, the wizard perched an elbow on my desk, resting his head on his hand. The motion had seemed strange to me at the time, enough to make me edge back a little. Sometimes I forgot that he was a normal person behind the recognized history the people of the hospital proudly spoke again, adding it as a sort of afterthought as he made a motion with his hand. "Plus you would need to take the O.W.L.s"

My stare fell, and whatever I was precisely feeling then, well I didn't know. But I could guess my dissatisfaction and unhappiness of having to be trapped in the Hospital indefinitely. The thought was bleak, making depression flow easily into the atmosphere.

"However," He pressed again, the word hanging heavy in the air and making me look up. Dumbledore looked at me as if he was trying to get into my mind, which in my current experience I knew he could probably do. It didn't feel good to be scrutinized so damn much. "Anything is possible with sufficient determination. Would you like to go to Hogwarts?"

My head nodded more times than it should have in front of him, but hell I had gotten what I wanted.

Dumbledore smiled as a sparkle twinkled in his eyes.

In the blink of an eye Dumbledore disappeared, and I no longer was in my room in St. Mungo's Hospital. Quite suddenly, but most importantly a drastic change of scenery, I found myself standing in front of what I had been told was a train station called King's Cross. And most importantly again, I was pretty damn sure I had a daft smile plastered on my face. Next to me was Alessia Green, dressed in her trainee robes, holding my arm as she watched another Healer instruct the driver on how to pull out my trunk out of his cab.

It had been a wonderful experience, I remembered, ridding squished between the two healers as the cab zoomed around a city that was a marvel to the eye and that I had learned was called London. And now I would get to ride a train. I was having the time of my life.

I stared long at every muggle I saw. I knew I was transfixed at their oddity; I still was as I relived the memory. They were fascinating, and I regretted when I later learned there was course in Hogwarts that was dedicated to them but that I hadn't been enrolled in. Dumbledore had done that for me.

The other Healer, I forgot her name, had my trunk placed on a trolley as I stared around, then giving Alessia a nod to pull me along.

Next I noticed, a train was getting boarded by scores of kids and teenagers, all uttering goodbyes to what assume was their parents. I couldn't see colours in the dream, but I could easily bring to mind the vibrant red of the Hogwarts Express as if I could see it at the very moment. I stared at the kids too when the train was surely imprinted into my mind. I saw the similarities between the adults and their children. It made me wonder now, for I couldn't recall what I was thinking then, if I had parents and if I would look like them. I felt sorry for myself, as my body continued to be pulled by Alessia toward the train and to an empty compartment to put my things in.

My trunk had just been loaded by the Healers almost at the end of the train, when two Prefects arrived.

They were students from seventh year, given the responsibility of taking me away from the St. Mungo's workers and boarding me unto the train. One was Alice Smith from Gryffindor and the other Sander Rickett from Hufflepuff. Both greeted me with courteous expressions, the girl even shinning smiles at me. Without much ceremony, and a dry goodbye from my part, the Prefects took me away from the Healers.

The platform disappeared and I was now cramped in the train corridor behind the two Prefects, making our way into the first compartment.

I was supposed to be introduced to the rest of the school Prefects in their meeting during the train ride. Supposedly, and this I learned later, they would be at my disposal should I need any help regardless of what House I got sorted in. But I never did make any use of them. Once I found the group I felt part of, I looked for no one else.

Students lingered in the corridor, looking around for friends or a good compartment to wave at their parents from. We were, I would say, halfway through the train when I saw familiar faces that I actually wanted to see. I noticed because of a certain someone's hair. Black and spiking up in every direction caused by an expert hand, James Potter came running pass the Prefects that lead me. With the atmosphere of the dream, he seemed almost like a blur when he went past me. Behind him, puffing for air and with a face threatening to go from red to purple came Peter.

"W-wait for me, James." Peter called out as he went right next to me. The me in the dream followed the two, turning back to stare at their retreating forms after I stopped walking. I don't remember what I felt on the first go around, but as I watched them trapped in my own body, I looked at their backs fondly. I missed them. I felt like I hadn't seen them, seen Peter in ages. I wondered about the other two marauders, when Sirius appeared. Running after his friends with a satisfied look on his face, he bumped against my shoulder making me stumble as he ran off.

"Sorry." Sirius, ever the cheeky idiot brushed my incredulity off with a wink as he went through his apology.

Had I any control over my body, I would have needed a moment to compose myself, after having lost my wits laughing. Sure, I never enjoyed being at the receiving end of one of their pranks, and running Marauders always meant prank, in any sort of way, but to see them so suddenly and in a memory I forgot I still had was irresistibly delightful. I was certain that the me in the past hadn't enjoyed in the slightest the assault or the rudeness of the boys, running and stumbling unto people in such a small, cramped place. It was evident in the look Gryffindor Prefect Alice flashed. She gave me a sympathetic look to what I knew was my abhorrent expression to what I had just suffered, and encouraged me to continue.

Walking further along, we came unto the sight of the prank. It had Marauder written all over it. In one of the compartments was Severus Snape surrounded by a team of ducks. The sight was a strange one, and there were a score of students blocking the corridor to peek in. The Hufflepuff Prefect, Sander Rickett ordered everyone to find their own spot in the train just as I was able to look into it through the glass. Severus looked comical to say the least, his face twisted in a nasty frown as he tried to counter-spell the Marauder's prank. A duck would emerge from the tip of his wand whenever he pointed at a creature to get rid of it, filling the room even more with the animals.

There was a flash of red from a corner within the compartment, and I saw Lily. She was standing on one of the seats inside, holding out her wand, sending the correct spell to get rid of the birds one by one. Looking as wonderful as ever, Lily was dressed in muggle clothes, a strange combination for me to see as she majestically pointed her wand like the amazing witch she is. My heart ached at the sight of her as I wondered if after the dream was finished I would be alive to see her again. I wanted nothing more than to be with my friends again.

What I had initially thought of her that fist time I saw her, I didn't have time to try and remember. Just then, Remus emerged next to her, having been bent down. Though he too had his wand out, he seemed more preoccupied with carrying a duck on his hand. Had I been able to, I would have again descended into a fit of laughter, looking at him holding the bird. Why he hadn't run away behind his friends I'll never know, but my galleons were on Lily had gotten a hold on him as the boys fled and he was forced to stay and clean the mess. His expression of amused annoyance was proof of it.

"Evans and Lupin will get it sorted." Sander said, making a point of having us finish our trek to the front of the train. As we passed the compartment that had a flock of birds going crazy inside, I blinked and found myself in another place.

The Prefect compartment was bigger than the rest of the others on the train.

Inside, I was introduced to every Prefect present, shaking hands with each as they looked at me with curiosity, probably not knowing yet why I was present. It was among those first I met that I came to know of Gemma Carrow. She courteously treated me well, though she wasn't kind or friendly toward me. Her hair was a delight for me, being the first time I had even seen such long and beautiful ray of light on an actual person.

But her hair and she, for I did think of all the girls there she was the most beautiful, fell short in every aspect when I was introduced to Lorcan Mulciber.

Though inside I knew for a fact that should I have control over my body I would be shaken with the vilest putridity that he casted upon me with his mere presence,the me outside shook with something else. I remembered it perfectly, as I knew I would be forced to remember everything about Lorcan Mulciber for the rest of however long I would get to live.

I was smitten by him, there in our first encounter.

Lorcan was the sun, one that I had been deprived on feeling, of experiencing all through the months I lived in St. Mungo's. I thought I was going to Hogwarts to finally live, but seeing him, feeling the warmth in his hand as he lingered when he shook it in greeting, I knew I was meant to meet him. In plain, simple and abhorrently stupid words, it was love at first sight for me. And the fact of it all was disgusting. I experienced myself stealing glances at him during the Prefect meeting, looking at him intently for as many seconds as I could. It was revolting, vile and sickening being there childishly smitten, when I knew that not even a month would pass before he became the foulest creature in my life.

Later, my attention was grabbed by the arrival of Lily, Remus and Severus. The trio were in various levels of dishevelment, though the three still carried remnants of cleaning up feathered beings. They were late, however, and the Head Boy and Head Girl had already begun to read the instructions given by the Deputy Headmistress, McGonagall.

Though I wanted to, I didn't pay them much attention. I was sitting next to Gemma and the other Slytherin Prefects by pure chance really, and between my glances to Lorcan and pretending to be listening to what the Head Girl was saying, my attention was extremely entertained. And if I did pay any attention to anyone else it was only to Gemma, who was kind enough to explain matters of Hogwarts when I didn't understand them.

Honestly, more than once I thought that my sorting into Slytherin House was simply because I had been slightly exasperated with Alice to sit with her. She was a bubbling mess of giggles with her present friends, and I wanted nothing of that at that moment. The other Prefect, Sander from Hufflepuff had abandoned me as soon as it was time to sit down.

It was no surprise when my vision darkened and the next I knew I was huddle up with all the Slytherin Prefects. How it ended up like that, I mostly don't remember. Though I was inclined toward they heard from the Head Boy's report on me that I was a special student. A pure blooded girl who had been home-schooled and raised by two old witches in a sheltered life away from muggles. It had been a story fabricated by Dumbledore. He wanted my circumstances to remain secret for as long as possible, but he had the good grace to let me speak of my accident and amnesia. That way I hadn't any need to lie about a life I never lived. The backstory was mostly unnecessary, really.

Though I had received attention from the students of the other houses, the fact that Gemma was sitting next to me and had invited me to talk with her group of colleagues was the main reason I ignored everyone else. The other Houses didn't have the sun incarnated waiting to talk to me.

Lorcan stood right across from me as I joined their group, the female Prefect of his year Peregrine Yaxley standing by his side. She was a shy piece of work, more antisocial than me, with whom I barely remembered even sharing two words with. Gemma and Severus were to one side of me. I did think I would be closer to them considering Dumbledore said I would be starting with the sixth years. And newly appointed from fifth year, Flora Busltrode and Regulus Black were to the side. Though both were expertly masked with the indifference drilled in by their rich and pure families, their lack of talking was clear evidence that they were nervous at their new responsibilities. Proud to be a figure of authority to the eyes of the school body, but uncertain. At least that's what I thought. Then again I had been stupidly trying not to get lost within Lorcan's eyes.

Now as my eyes lingered on him, my one wish was that I could look away. I would rather look at hippogriff droppings than stare at Lorcan, even more when he pointed his nose up as he spoke to me.

"Pure-blooded and sheltered from muggles," He said and if I could, I would had violently shudder at the sound. "You sound like Slytherin material to me."

I exasperatedly waited for my coming reply, hating the high pitch my voice made when talking to him. At that moment I was grateful that I couldn't feel or see my face. I had absolutely no desire to see the flirty daft girl I use to become in front of Lorcan Mulciber. "I heard only Dark wizards and witches come from that house."

"A common blood-traitor misconception." He said glancing at Snape and Peregrine who wholeheartedly nodded, understanding every one of his words; believing them as the only truth. His expression was one of annoyed disgust as he pinch his eyebrows together. I knew, and I could still see it now that the disgust was clearly directed at blood-traitors and not at me. Though I had long stopped caring so much about blood purity and being loyal to it, I did remember that I had labelled Alessia Green as a traitor, She had told me about Slytherin reputation when she told me about Hogwarts. It was mean of me, to spit on the compassion the Trainee Healer had given me, but I didn't care for her, and I wanted, craved for Lorcan's approval. I listened to his every word like he spoke the holiest of truths. "They label us as dark and evil in a fail attempt to hide our innate greatness; a weak lie to pry away eyes from their own inadequacy."

"Could I be great?" My voice sounded breathless as I looked around to each person in the group. "If I were in Slytherin?"

This time, I was answered by Severus Snape. Though detached and not too interested to have to talk to me, he seemed, like Lorcan, to want me in the House. There was no other explanation for me to ponder. I was a pure-blooded oddity, one that even nasty Snape was willing to work with. And he did a compelling job to want me to be like them, I guess. Hell, I wondered what any of them would do if they ever find out who I descend from. Severus continued speaking. "Our founder, Salazar Slytherin made sure of that. He made it his legacy to only allow the best of the best into his House."

"Slytherin House has produced awe-inspiring wizards and witches throughout the ages." Gemma began to talk, almost interrupting Severus in her need to be an active part of the conversation. As I stared at her light appealing smile as she spoke, all I could think of was on how much I had initially wanted her as a friend. I felt pathetic, knowing than in less than a month she would be treating me like rubbish. "We got Ministers for Magic, Quidditch Champions, and Headmasters of Hogwarts, Master Duelists, Head Healers, Potion Masters and the lot. And of course, Merlin. The Prince of Enchanters himself."

There was a moment of silence as the me in the dream took in the information. I had been greatly shocked at the revelation. Dumbledore hadn't said anything about that and when my voice came out, it was beyond surprised. "Merlin? He was in Slytherin?"

"The greatest wizard of all time." Lorcan said with a smooth nod of his head, I had to admit. He was a monster and a vicious disease, but he was elegant at it. With a dismissive wave of a hand, he continued talking. "And don't listen to what people are going around saying that Dumbledore is the greatest wizard of all time. That's not even remotely true. No one can surpass our Merlin, in power or fame."

"Except for one." Regulus Black said, the first words he ever said in my presence.

There was eerie moment in which all the Slytherins looked at the youngest there present and agreed with him in complete silence. My gaze went from one of my companions to the other, trying to find answers, but receiving nothing. All there was present was their unspoken approval echoing in the compartment. I hadn't known then, but now that I was looking at it again, I was sure I could feel a chill run up my spine even without control over my body. I knew to whom he referred to, of whom they were agreeing to follow and it still disturbed me to no end. It had always done so, and I remember that right then in the compartment I had looked for help to subdue my feelings.

Only Lorcan's smile calmed them.

His smile was blinding and when I could see again, I found myself staring at the patterns of McGonagall's robes as I followed her to the headmaster's office.

We were going up the stairs of the griffin statue as my robes bellowed after my pace. It was somewhat comforting to know that I was wearing the school robes and that I was in Hogwarts already. I never felt as comfortable in St. Mungo's as I did in the school, even considering the shitstorm I would later experience.

My eyes darter around to every corner, trying to take it in all at once. I knew I had tried to take it all in, and as Professor McGonagall opened the door to Dumbledore's office, my body stopped as the me in the memory tried to look at everything. My gaze lingered in every odd object, on all the portraits on the walls, and it wasn't until the Headmaster spoke that I noticed that I was already sitting on the chair in front of his desk. "Here we are, finally. Welcome."

"The path was arduous and complicated, and your Potions O.W.L. almost halted our work, but we've done it. You made it to Hogwarts." Dumbledore went on to say, looking at me with sparkling eyes behind his spectacles. "However this is just the beginning. Mountains of work lie in your immediate future, Miss Nolan, and I would very much like to implore you to give the best of yourself. I have spoken to every professor that will teach you, and they all understand your peculiar situation. They've agreed to help. Needless to say I encourage you to seek them out, as well as myself, should you need the assistance. Now, on to the last thing. I'm sure you must be starving after the long train ride. Minerva if you would be so kind."

With a motion of his hand he gave reigns to McGonagall, who wasted no time in bringing forth the Sorting Hat. Before she could say anything she put it on my head.

"An oddity; we don't get much of your kind here. But a pleasure nonetheless, to have the honor of sorting you." A small voice said in my ear. I had looked down to my hands, as my fingers twitched and fidgeted together. I remembered the Sorting Hat. I remembered the slur of his voice echoing the confines of my mind, invading every private corner as it looked for my true being to decide to which House I belong to. I hated that moment. "Where should I place you, oh child of old? Should you go to Ravenclaw, where your wit and resilience for learning will earn you a place of reverence? Or to Hufflepuff to share the patience and the diligence you hold hidden in your being? Better yet should I place you in Gryffindor, and let the fire in your heart boldly burn with chivalry?"

I glanced around at the spectating adults. McGonagall was impassive, waiting for the verdict in her normal demeanour. Dumbledore on the other hand, edged forward in his desk. Before him, he had his hands clapped together, his knuckles white as he too waited, but unlike his colleague looking at me again like the scholar he was.

"Though there is no mystery to which house you belong. Cunning Lady, ambitious child of power." The hat finished. "It's waved in here, in your very essence, just as it was in Merlin when I sorted him."

"Wait," I heard myself whisper, but it was too late. What I was going to say I didn't know, but my one thought then, as it was still now was that I didn't fancy the idea of following into Merlin's footsteps. I was repulsed and frightened by the thought that it was forced upon me. Though I eventually learned that regardless of my blood connection or the people I had met on the train, my rightful place was in Slytherin. I never like the idea that people and the Sorting Hat thought it was something that purely depended on Merlin. I was a Slytherin because that was just who I was. That was my identity, it had nothing to do with my ancestor, and I would have very much enjoyed telling that to the hat. Yet I had no opportunity to say anything. The Hat boomed to the two professors over my quiet protest.

"Slytherin!"

Again I was following McGonagall. She was saying that someone of my House would be waiting for me outside the Great Hall. I don't remember what was going around my mind in that moment. Though, I'm inclined to think that it had to do with my doubts about being in Slytherin just because of Merlin. It wasn't fair if that was the case, if it was still the case. I take great pride in being a part of the House of Salazar. But the thought of it being not because of who I was but because of who I descended from was heartbreaking. Nothing was set in stone, however. And I was allowed to believe whatever I wanted.

Saying something about getting the first years, Professor McGonagall pointed at two giant doors and then hurried away. I went along on my own, my head down to look at the tie I now wore around my neck and the colours it had. What I had been thinking in that time, I didn't know, but my reflection of it ended when I looked up.

I was in sight of the double door to the Great Hall, and much like McGonagall had said, there was a Slytherin waiting for me there. Yet it wasn't just any Slytherin. His Prefect badge shone brightly under the candle light even from where I was standing, as it hung from his chest. Shoulders straighten to the propriety of his family heritage and blood purity, Lorcan Mulciber waited for me. The sight of him, and what I felt when I saw him there, was something that I did remember.

I was cursed to remember every detail of him and my feelings for him.

Seeing him there had propelled my heart to beat painfully on my chest, and my memory clearly served me well as my body raised a hand to put over my breast. I knew him for only a couple of hours and had just had one conversation with him, but I was certain that he was special to me. I hadn't had any sort of experience with fancying a boy or having any sort of romantic feelings. What I knew I had learned from conversations with the Trainee Healer Alessia. She had a boyfriend she loved to talk about. However, as I stared at Lorcan I knew I had somehow, in such a short time, developed feelings for him. It had been something out of my control. Something meant to be. That I had believed that for a fact once, made me want to vomit.

Both my hands over the Slytherin colours that distinguished me, I closed the space between Lorcan and I with a quick pace. As soon as he noticed me, he stared at only me, smiling in a way that gave me the impression that I was doing the same too. Though he must have already known, I had wanted to surprise him with my sorting into his House.

Lorcan raised a brow after his eyes darted to my neck, staring at me with amusement, and making inner me gag. It took a moment more of staring before my hands flew away from my neck to reveal the green and silver of Slytherin, and it was horrible to actually see Lorcan's delight.

"Welcome to Hogwarts." He said to me with a beautiful smile. Then, with an inviting nod, he led us to our table.

AN: I don't know if this matters, but somewhere in the first few chapters, maybe when Faraday met Lily, she said she wasn't sure of her blood purity. Yeah, so I decided against her not knowing that a while ago, but I'm not gonna go back to change it. I'll leave it as an inconsistency, along with a couple other things I've noticed.

Now, more technical things. In this chapter, are the changes in scene too fast? Is it too much to follow? Do they make sense? If you're having trouble please say something 'cause I have two more chapters coming up and I would like to know for it. Maybe I can do something. Or not. I don't know. I want to know.

On another note, we begin the fateful September in Faraday's short life. We're finally gonna know what went down in the next two chapters.