My name is Henry Jones. I am 14 years old, and I will be starting my first year of school.

That would sound odd to most, especially to a Muggle. Though, even in our world, I still missed the first three years of school.

Why? That is something I cannot reveal, even here. But I will tell you this, to call my situation complicated would be a grand understatement.

Back to my original point. School. Yes, I missed the first three years. I doubted that I would have many issues academically though.

In a way, I was homeschooled.

Not by my parents, for they are dead and I never knew them. If not them, then who?

I will not disclose that.

I stood in line, waiting for my name to be called. One by one, the first years got sorted by a hat that was obviously enchanted, as it yelled out, ''Slytherin'', Ravenclaw'', ''Hufflepuff'' and Gryffindor

The line thinned until the name, ''Henry Jones'' was called.

As I strode across the great hall, I caught sight of Jasmine Potter and stared long enough for her to look back.

We really did look similar. The same rich dark hair. The same flashing green eyes and pale skin, but she certainly looked a whole lot more approachable than me.

I walked by Professor McGonagall, who I had only heard rumours of. I took my seat and the hat fell over my face.

''My, my.'' A voice said. ''I wasn't expecting to be sorting someone your age today.''

Yes. I'm a unique case.

''Very unique.'' The voice agreed. ''How did you find Dumstrung?''

I didn't like it

''You don't seem too surprised that I can read your mind.''

Should I be?

''No, I suppose not. You are not a first year.'' The voice said. ''What house would you like to be in, if you could choose?''

I don't care.

''That doesn't give me much insight.'' The voice said. ''Well, you wouldn't do well in Slytherin. You don't have the ambition or the cunning. That is rather surprising.''

That's why I left Dumstrung. I didn't fit in.

''Yes, yes, I can see that. Ravenclaw? No, you don't have the thirst for knowledge.''

If I don't need to, then I won't learn it.

''Then how about Hufflepuff? You seem patient and dedicated, although you are quite the recluse.''

I am.

'Interesting, very interesting.'' The voice said cheerfully. ''Although I'm unsure of where to place you.''

I see.

''Where would you like to be sent? Your sorting will depend on your answer.''

Anywhere. It doesn't affect me.

''How about Slytherin?''

If you're going to sort me in Slytherin, then do so. They likely won't like me very much, but this is your decision, not mine.

And then the voice turned to ice.

''I must say that you really are convincing. If Salazar saw this, I would wager that he would be quite entertained. You are a Slytherin at heart.''

I acted as if everything was normal.

I am?

''Oh, indeed. If I wasn't charmed to be able to detect even the most advanced forms of occlumency, I wouldn't have suspected a thing.''

Someone like me could never be an occlumence.

''You really are a liar.'' The voice said darkly. ''Harry Potter.''

I blinked once.

Where will I be sorted?

''Nothing phases you, does it?'' The voice asked. ''I am surprised that the headmaster would allow someone like you inside his school.''

He would not have before, but I have changed.

''Have you really?'' The voice queried. ''No matter. I now know what house you belong to.''

Because it had been decided, I didn't respond. I only waited.

''Slytherin!''

Nobody clapped for me.

I took off the hat, then strode over the Slytherin table and took my seat. I stayed quiet, remaining out of the conversations, even after everyone was sorted and the food had been laid out on the table.

There were a few times I almost tried to join in, but decided against it. This was a difficult environment for me; eating with people my age.

Perhaps I should rephrase that. A ''muggle-born'' eating with predominantly purebloods was the difficult part.

Maybe the rumours of Slytherin were false.

I doubted it.

''Henry Jones. That is your name, isn't it?''

''Yes,'' I said. ''It is.''

The girl looked to be my age, although it was hard to tell. She was pretty, with scarlet lips and golden-blonde hair long enough to touch her waist.

''By chance are you related to Hestia Jones?''

All I gave in return was a flat, ''No.''

''It is a common name, for a Muggle.'' The look on her face changed. ''Are your parents muggles?''

This might have been the first time someone lied about their blood status in such a way.

''Yes,'' I said. ''They are.''

The look turned to pure distaste.

''Course he is, Daphne.'' A boy said. He was thin as a rake. ''Just look at him. You didn't even need to ask.''

''I thought that I would just make sure, Theo.''

Theo wrinkled his nose at me. ''What're you even doing here? You stick out like a sore thumb.'' Laughter came from his side.

''Because I was sorted here,'' I said plainly.

''Because I was sorted here.'' A new boy said, mocking my voice. He was very pale with short white blonde hair. ''Do you always speak like that, or is that just the way muggles talk?''

Was this what they called bullying?

In hindsight, it was quite funny, so I took little offence. I ate some sausages and chicken while ignoring what was said at the table.

If things carried on this way, jest about my supposed muggle parents, then there would be no issues. I had more important matters to deal with.

The Sorting Hat.

Before the welcoming feast could end, I took my leave from the great hall. When out of sight from the paintings and ghosts, I cast the invisibility charm on myself.

Then I waited.

When everyone began to leave the great hall in groups I caught sight of Professor Dumbledore in the crowd. Of course, I followed.

On our way up the stairs, Professor Dumbledore greeted every talking painting and ghost that he came across.

He reached his office and closed the door on his way in, which is when I undid the charm.

Right as I was able to knock on the door, he said, ''You may come in, Henry. The door is unlocked.''

Of course, he knew.

I opened the door and lay my eyes on the headmaster's office for the first time. It was three stories high, with bookshelves on all floors and a golden phoenix perched atop the rails.

''I am always happy to speak with you.'' He said pleasantly. ''Although you did not have to be this secretive.

I disagreed. ''It would have looked strange if I talked with you on my first day. We should not know each other.''

''Perhaps.'' He said. ''Sit. Please.''

I took my seat, folding my hands together on his desk.

''I am all ears. What did you want to speak with me about?''

I was to the point. ''The sorting hat.''

''Are you here to ask if you could switch houses?''

''No,'' I said. ''It knows who I am.''

He nodded. ''I understand your worries, but the sorting hat has been charmed in a way, that it cannot tell a soul of what he saw inside your head.''

''I thought that would be the case,'' I said. ''Are there ways around it?''

He didn't answer immediately. ''There are none. I can guarantee you of that.''

I watched him like a hawk. ''If there were, you probably would not have allowed me here. It would not look good for you if I got exposed.''

''Do you trust me?''

''Yes.''

He smiled sadly. ''I dearly hope that you will one day.''

I didn't smile back.

''Is there something on your mind?'' He asked.

''There isn't now,'' I said. ''I doubted that the sorting hat could tell anyone, or would. But this also could affect you -- letting someone like me into your school.''

''Someone like you?'' He echoed. ''And who do you believe that you are?''

By then I was already rising from the chair. ''I'll be leaving now.''

''Have a good night, Harry.'' He said. ''Do you know your way to the dungeons?''

''I'll find my way.''

That night in my new bed, I pondered on my day. It had not gone perfectly, but I was really here.

For many years I had heard stories of Hogwarts, but never in my wildest dreams could I ever imagine getting this far.

I could only wonder how long it would last