After returning to my sister and the redhead friend with a bag full of cherry balls, I help myself to two of them, and spend the rest of the train ride to Hogwarts with my head against the window, pondering the events that had just taken place.

Cedric Diggory, a boy who is very much dead, just talked to me about my sister.

I've truly gone mad. The illness I've been plagued with has affected my brain, my wiring, and I've gone mad. That's the only explanation, because otherwise I'm truly seeing dead people, which is impossible, for very obvious reasons. Such as, you know, they're dead.

I can't figure out which I prefer - the idea of being mad, or actually seeing dead people. So I close my eyes, and attempt to drift off to sleep, but I dream of Cedric Diggory once again, and when I wake up, I'm a trembling mess, that even Cho notices.

"Are you okay, Mei?"

I nod, certain that if I open my mouth, I'll burst into tears.

I'm to go to the castle with the first years, according to the letter I received over the summer, once again asking if I was well enough to attend school. It's a bit humiliating, but I manage to suck up my pride and join the eleven year olds in the boats that sail across the Black Lake.

Apparently, a fifteen year old joining them isn't typical, as I'm the subject of stares from just about everyone, including the woman who introduces herself as Professor McGonagall. I can feel her harsh gaze on me as she speaks to all of us about the houses, and what they mean. It's mostly for the muggleborn students, I'm aware of that, so I zone out for the rest of her speech, only refocusing my attention once we step into the Great Hall.

More eyes on me, bloody hell.

I think I may prefer being in the hospital bed right now, compared to having literally every single bloody person in this room staring at me like I've dyed my face pink. Oh Merlin, have I dyed my face pink? Knowing my luck, probably.

McGonagall steps towards the stool, holding a hat in her hand, while she reads names off from an old looking scroll. One by one, first year students climb their way towards the front, where they're placed into their houses.

It doesn't take long for her to say my name.

"Chang, Meiqi."

No one turns to look at me as I stumble up towards the sorting hat, because most people were already looking at me, at the tall, mostly developed human standing among the eleven year olds like a bloody weirdo.

As I sit down on the stool, which is far too small for me, McGonagall gives me a tiny smile, one that I can tell is forced, before placing the hat on my head. Immediately, a voice fills my brain, one that causes me to jolt in alarm.

Miss Chang…jumpy, are you? Ah, well, there's no need to worry…that I know of, anyways. Yes, I remember sorting your sister. Much different from you, isn't she? Oh, you don't like that, do you? You want to be normal, to fit in? To be just like everyone else? Unfortunately, Chang, we don't always get what we want. What you need is far more important, and that's where I come in. Blending in, falling into the shadows, is not what you're meant for. And for you to succeed, it better be…

"SLYTHERIN!"

I rise to my feet, only realizing how hard I am shaking when I begin my descent down the stairs and towards the cheering Slytherin table. Not wanting to sit with the first years, I find an empty spot further down the table, amongst a group of girls that appear to be about my age.

Only when I sit down do I allow myself to breathe.

Slytherin. I am in Slytherin.

I can't bare to look over at Cho, at the disappointed expression she must be wearing. I'm supposed to be in Ravenclaw! I'm a bloody Chang, after all! Both of my parents were Ravenclaws, my big sister is a Ravenclaw, I should be in Ravenclaw too! Why did that stupid bloody hat have to put me into Slytherin?

"Chang, is it?" A girl across from me speaks, tilting her head with a smile that I can't quite tell the sincerity of yet.

"Yeah. Meiqi."

"Is Cho your sister, then?" She moves her chin towards the Ravenclaw table, a gaze I refuse to allow my eyes to follow. When I nod, the girl continues, "She plays on the Quidditch team, I know her because of how bloody good she is. It isn't fair, is it?"

"Er, I suppose not." I shrug.

"I didn't know she had a sister." The girl continues, before turning to her friend, a brunette girl on her left. "Oi, Pansy, did you know that Cho Chang has a sister?"

"Why would I know, or care, about that, Daphne?"

The blonde - Daphne, just smiles, as she turns her attention back to me. "You're pretty tall for a first year."

"I'm not a first year. I'm fifteen."

"Oh." Daphne blinks rapidly, evidently not expecting this. "You're new, then? Come from a different school or something?"

"Yeah." Why everyone assumes I'm simply from another school, I haven't a clue, but I decide not to question it, and go along with it. Clearly it's the answer the universe wants me to give.

"We don't get new students often. Oi, Pansy, did you know Cho Chang's sister is from a different school? She's new this year - and in our year!"

Pansy sighs, running a hand through her curly brown hair, as she turns away from the boy she was conversing with to glare at her. "Bloody hell Daph, why would I care?"

I bite down on my lip to prevent a laugh from escaping me.

"This is Pansy," Daphne explains to me, motioning towards her friend. "She's a bit grumpy, but she means well."

"I am not grumpy!" She hisses. "I just don't have the time to put up with imbeciles like you!"

"You love me and you know it." Daphne winks. "And I'm Daphne. Over there's Millicent, the only other girl in our year, but she doesn't talk very much." She points towards a girl further down the table, who is currently chewing on her hair. "Welcome to the house of snakes, Meiqi."

"Thanks." I find the smile that forms on my lips is not a fake one, though my vision slowly trails off, towards someone standing behind the Professors table, next to a woman decked head to toe in pink. While the pink lady should be the person catching my attention, it is the man with the purple turban who my eyes are focused on, because it's a man I know to be dead.

Quirrell, the professor with You-Know-Who on the back of his head, from Cho's second year at Hogwarts. Everyone read about it in the Daily Prophet, his picture was plastered on every article for months. The professor who quite literally disintegrated. He's dead, he's bloody dead.

But he's right in front of me, staring out into the mob of students with a nervous sort of smile, the ends of his lips twitching as they rise and fall.

"Are you looking at the new professor?" Daphne asks, leaning in so we're only inches apart.

My heart soars. Can she see him too? Maybe I haven't gone mad after all! Maybe he really is there, and for some reason, no one else has noticed him!

"She wears far too much pink for my liking. I mean, I like pink as much as the next person, but bloody hell, isn't that a bit excessive?"

Just as fast as my heart had soared, it sinks to the floor. She's talking about the woman in pink, not Quirrell.

I've truly gone mad.