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In the Beginning...

Professor McGonagall paced the stone steps of the entrance to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, waiting for the new batch of First Years to roll in. Professor McGonagall looked at her magickal watch for what seemed like the hundreth time in ten minutes. Then sighed at how silly she was being.
"It's just like every other year." She tried to convince herself but was failing miserably. It was like every other year, well except for the fact that Harry Potter aka The-Boy-Who-Lived would be on his way into the Wizarding World. How much he knew, she herself did not know. Soon a large group of students came towards her and the entrance to the school.
"Welcome," she said in a voice that commanded respect. "welcome to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. My name is Porfessor McGonagall and I am the Head teacher for the Gryffindor's." At the look of confusion in some of the students eyes she smiled and walked towards a Room with GIant twin Oak doors. "This is the Great Hall, before you are seated you will be sorted into one of four houses, Griffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, or Slytherin. Once you have been placed in a house, the house becomes your family. Each house has it's own noble stories to tell. While you are at Hogwarts you will earn points for your house, at the end of the year all the points are tallied up and the Winning House is awarded the House Cup. Which is a very big honor." Professor McGonagall opened the doors to the Great Hall and listened as the students mumbled in 'aww'. "Now then, everyone to the Left side of the room, one line. No pushing, shoving, cutting, and no malice behavior." With having said that Professor McGonagall went to Dumbledore and told him all there was to know about the group.

LUNA LOVEGOOD

“We’re actually in Hogwarts,” Luna declared in the exaggerated stage-whisper she had grown inordinately fond of, but no one seemed to notice and, for the briefest of seconds, that was irritating. She had spent so much time whispering to Runes, instead of speaking as she normally would, that it seemed a waste. Being Loony was fun, sometimes, and her father didn’t really mind that she scared the other kids.

Why would they pay attention to lovely little Loony? she argued to herself, imitating the castle’s stiff stone walls with mock-scorn. Am I not so much more significant?

Her lips curved into a grin. “Yeah. Yeah, you are. You mustn’t think otherwise,” Luna admonished, biting the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing.

Suddenly, it didn’t matter if the other students were staring, because she wouldn’t have noticed anyway. She was staring at the enchanted sky, with its millions of gleaming candlelit points, and imagining drawing the runes and charms into the very stone of the castle. Caught by the spell-binding chamber before the doors had closed behind her.

Somewhere, in the distant corner of her mind unoccupied with candles and dark skies, McGonagall had disappeared. And a hat had begun to sing in silly rhymes that she wanted to copy down and sing sometime later. And somewhere, names she didn’t really recognize were being called.

Did they matter? she wondered absently, tracing complicated sigils she didn’t know the meaning of into the air in her mind. They looked so much like scribbles, her magic. But she knew that one day, she was going to have a room with a starry sky of candles of her own, too. And, by then, she would have learned enough that her magic would be real, not imaginary, and they would never look like scribbles unless she wanted them to. Maybe her scribbles would even mean something.

We’re in Hogwarts. You mustn’t think otherwise. Her words reverberated in her thoughts and twisted the world back into focus, as their alternative meaning registered in her mind. Shocked, Luna looked away from the enchanting ceiling to her feet to hide the expression of disbelief and confusion that reflected the sudden turn of her thoughts. Why hadn’t she noticed that she was afraid … that she was afraid that Hogwarts was just a fantastical dream?

You are truly magnificent to have made me forget, she complimented the castle silently as the castle’s enchantment wore themselves thin.

Her father had hugged her so hard that she could still feel his arms closed around her, and smell the trace of cologne that he sometimes used just because, and she could still remember holding her breath, waiting for him to say no, he changed his mind, she wouldn’t be able to go for some silly reason or other because he would never, ever tell her that he was afraid that she would not come back.

The fear returned, cutting sharply into her thoughts. Her father could always say no. He was her father. He was a Slytherin. He was crazy enough, he was afraid enough - he could always say no. And who would say no to him?

“It doesn’t matter anymore. I’m here,” she whispered quietly. “I’m here.” Luna wondered if her father would like a room of dark skies and candles, too. She smiled faintly, looking up to see the tattered hat on its little stool. “Dad actually let me come, Mum. Aren’t you proud of him?” she joked to herself, watching the Hat now with an almost desperate frustration, as if being Sorted would matter.

It screamed, “GRYFFINDOR!” and the people clapped.

RONALD WEASLEY

Ron stared, open-mouthed, at the ragged hat, his eyes wide with incredulity. “It’s—it’s singing!” he hissed, turning to look over at Harry. Before the black-haired teen could answer, Ron asked, warily, “You don’t reckon it’s got teeth, do you? Only Fred’n’George keep saying we’ve got to—”

“RAVENCLAW!” the Hat’s pervasive baritone interrupted, its shout catching his attention immediately. Everyone seemed to watch the Hat with even more concentration than before, as if they could stare the Hat into revealing all its secrets. Or maybe that was just him. Flushing with embarrassment when he noticed the blond girl standing to his side looking unabashedly at the ceiling instead of staring at the Hat like it was a dragon-kit, Ron looked down at his feet and breathed out irritably at his bangs.

“Burke, Lilian!” became a “SLYTHERIN!” Ron sneered absently, dislike for the serpents’ House darkening his thoughts and mood.

He could feel the uncomfortable, prickling sensation of blushing spread to his ears and neck and, more than ever, Ron wondered if he was cursed. It just wasn’t fair. Even Harry, who had grown up with Muggles, hadn’t reacted like he did. It wasn’t like anyone would have cared if he did, anyway. Harry might not seem to think of himself as the Savior of the Wizarding World but everyone else did. But Ron, he’d grown up with five brothers and parents who were magical.

And he’d probably made an idiot of himself, ’cause no one would tell him anything when he’d asked so he wouldn’t make an idiot of himself for not knowing something he was supposed to. He knew that they were just trying to get him to stop worrying about what people thought of him—well, maybe not Fred or George or Percy, much, because they didn’t really care about something like that, but Bill and Charlie and his mum and dad did.

They didn’t understand why he cared, didn’t understand that every time anyone talked to him, he wasn’t Ronald Weasley, he was someone’s little brother. He was William’s little brother, or Charlie’s, or Percy’s, or the twins’. And whenever he made an idiot of himself, he was someone’s disappointment.

“Burke, Sylvester!” became a “HUFFLEPUFF!” amidst uncertain applause that drew Ron from his thoughts. He watched a short, brown-haired boy with dark brown eyes storm to a table to his right beneath a banner with a badger as its center. His stomach dropped uneasily when girl who looked like a feminine version of Sylvester Burke stood up and clapped with a mocking turn of her lips and angry eyes.

Frowning in apprehension, Ron turned back to watch the Hat. He was going to one of the last students called. He couldn’t stop the sense of dread that he would be Sorted into Slytherin from overwhelming his feelings.

After all, the House of the serpents was the House of the ambitious and the unwanted fell into. And he knew that at thirteen, his resentment and insecurities had grown to define him as much as his brothers’ shadows had always had. He had allowed himself to be cornered by himself, only several names before a checkmate. One that he couldn’t avoid, like he always had all the others.

“S’nothing. Just worrying, y’know?” he finished off-handedly, not looking up to see the expression on Harry’s features. He didn’t know if he could keep his own from reflecting his thoughts.

NIAME RIDDLE

Niame wrinkled her nose, today she would be taken to King's Cross to ride the train to Hogwarts. It's not like she couldn't just join the kids when they arrived inside the school. Hogwarts has been her home for as long as she could remember.

She didn't remember her mother and father, she only knew what was told to her by Albus and Minerva. She knew they were not exactly good, but she wished she knew more.

Sighing softly she made her way to her closet, hand outstretched just incase Peeves tried to play another trick on her, being blind was not easy. But being blind all her life made it easier than it would be for most.

She dressed, frowning at the feel of how her school uniform fit. She left the sweater off and grabbed her shoulder bag.

'Luna, come. We've got to go now.' Niame heard the soft mew of her familar and knelt down. She picked Luna up as the cat crawled into her arms.

...

Niame scowled in Minerva's direction as she spoke to the first years. She hated riding on the train, she couldn't get the kids that shared the compartment with her to be quiet.

She could feel eyes on her and so she turned her head away from Minerva. She couldn't see anything but she could feel the person's, a girl's eyes retreat.

By the time Niame returned her attention back towards Minerva she finished her speech and the Sorting Hat finished his song. He had been working on the for nearly a year now. He always did. She would visit often but not stay long, she and Luna preferred the quiet of their room.

She waited as the hat sorted all of the kids. The room got quiet when Harry Potter's name was called. There was silence from everyone, but she could hear the hat speak to the boy about greatness and other things.

'GRYFFINDOR!!' The hat yelled and the hall erupted in cheering.

She was next, she knew she was.

'Niame Riddle.' She let Luna down to walk beside her and followed the kitten's mews. She hand excellent hearing, and she was able to navegate around the kids in the way and to the stairs. It was quiet, the older students knew who she was and all of the teacher's did as well, this was what they were waiting for. To hear what house she would be in, it was quiet but she could still hear the whispers of her being blind from those around her and it annoyed her.

Sitting on the stool she turned her eyes up as Minerva set the hat atop her head.

'Finally I am able to sit upon your head little Riddle.' His voice made her shiver. 'Visits from you have made me wonder just what lies in your past, but alas, lets not make them wait.'

Niame waited as the Sorting Hat paused...

'SLYTHERIN!' There were a few gasps, one that came from Albus and Minerva lifted the hat from her head.

'No matter, you are still in my protection.' Minerva said as she guided Niame from the stool. 'I will walk you to your room tonight, and we will talk.'

Niame gave a small smile to the woman who has been her mother figure. 'Luna...' The cat mewed in response and lead her to the Slytherin table.

She sighed softly wondering why Albus reacted in such a way. This was going to be a very long night...