The boats aren't at all as rickety as I first imagined as I step into one to find it much more stable than they look. The small row boats of deep-oak each house three to four children each, and as well, seem to row themselves across the dark waters of Hogwarts' Black Lake. Each of the boats holds a small, glowing-gold lantern, each reflecting off of the water causing the surface to look almost like the stars.

I'm sat in a boat with Hermione and two other first-year girls, all four of us staring around us in wonderment as we travel like feathers atop the breeze over the deep and dark, mysterious waters, which, I've read, is home to a type of Scottish Merpeople, a colony of Selkies. The same one's I read about on the trip over.

"It's absolutely beautiful!" Hermione exclaims from my side. I nod in like-mindedness, my thoughts appearing the same. "I've read about the Black Lake, you know? All sorts of creatures live in it!"

"I was reading about the Selkies on the train!" I exclaim as I turn to face her fully. "I've read about them in Muggle myths as well. According to them, they live within the waters as seals, but shed their skin to come on land among the humans. I suppose they aren't too far off."

Hermione smiles and nods enthusiastically.

The boats meander across the lake until we finally come to a wall of hanging ivy, the long tendrils acting as a curtain, hiding away the large cave entrance beneath the castle and leading off into a dark and mysterious tunnel. Finally, after a little while longer, the boats all come to rest under the castle's mountain within a sort of underground harbour.

I'm the second to leave the boat after a girl who's name she said is Martha, or maybe Millicent. Either way, I'm second to leave the boat, lending a hand to Hermione as she stumbles slightly trying to step out. She smiles in thanks and I simply nod in reciprocation before hearing the large man, a man Harry called Hagrid, calling out about a toad.

We all clamber up a flight of stone steps after finally reaching the dewy grass looming beneath the castle, and finally head towards the large, oak doors, stepping into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

The castle is grand, and absolutely beautiful. My eyes light up upon seeing it even through the night's darkness. There are hundreds of windows with golden-glow-glass almost emitting the sudden and overwhelming feeling of warmth and home. I haven't felt this way in a long while now, not since seeing my mother finally return home once upon a time after a rather lengthy trip to St Mungo's.

A lovely-looking, silver-haired witch, standing tall in emerald-green robes and a pointed witches hat greets us at the door, her smile welcoming as her eyes scan the cluster of children standing before her. She has a lovely, warm aura about her, as one might find in a grandmother, or maybe an older aunt.

"The firs'-years, Professor McGonagall," says Hagrid from the front of us.

"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here," she replies kindly.

She opens the oak doors wide and leads us into the huge entryway, torches of flame and iron lining the walls, as well as stacks upon stacks of candles, white wax mounding below them and down the walls themselves, dripping, though not untidily, down the stone. My favourite part, apart from the candles, will have to be the incredibly-high ceiling, one of which, you can barely make out from so far below it.

We follow her through the castle, Hermione and I walking side-by-side, until we finally reach a point where Professor McGonagall stops and turns to address us, the bickering, muttering, and clustering voices of many others from seemingly the room next to us, muffled slightly by the walls. This must be the Great Hall. I read a little about this as well.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," the emerald Professor finally speaks. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend free time in your house common room.

"The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rule-breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the House Cup, a great honour. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours.

"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting.

"I shall return when we are ready for you," she begins to finish. "Please wait quietly."

"Oh how exciting! I surely hope I'll be picked for Gryffindor!" Hermione whispers loudly to me from my side. I nod.

"I do as well. Connie, an elderly friend of mine, gave me her old Hogwarts Gryffindor scarf as a token of luck. I must remember to owl her when I'm able."

"I also can't wait for our first classes. Oh, how exciting it all is! I wonder what spells we'll be learning this year, and what one's I'll already have heard of! Oh, I do hope they teach us some hard charms!"

Suddenly, the corridor is filled with shrill screams causing both Hermione and I to jump a foot in the air before quickly turning to find what's caused the shouts. There are a large group of ghosts filling through the walls and into the Great Hall! I gasp upon gazing through their translucent forms, Hermione clutching my arm to my right. They seem to be talking about something, though I can't completely hear what.

One of them suddenly turns to us as if their just noticing our presence. "New students! About to be sorted, I suppose?" There are a few scattered nods in response. "Hope to see you in Hufflepuff! My old house, you know."

"Move along now!" McGonagall's, now familiar, voice rings over the ghost's words. "The Sorting Ceremony's about to start. Now form a line, and follow me."

She leads us from the corridor into the Great Hall, an enormous room pilled high with older students of second-year and up to seventh, as well as the school's professors, and, of course, the ghosts scattered about. There are five long, oak dining tables lined with empty dishes and goblets. One table for each house, and of course, the teachers. Candles levitate through the air, bobbing gently and burning brightly, an amazing mix with that of the bewitched ceiling, the Hall's ceiling masquerading as the brilliant-night sky.

Before Hermione and I walks Harry and Ron, the two gazing up at the roof in wonderment before Hermione breaks them from their gaze.

"It's bewitched to look like the sky outside, I read about it in Hogwarts: A History."

All of our attentions are suddenly drawn from the ceiling and Hermione's information to find Professor McGonagall placing a four-legged, wooden stool in front of us, and then on top, she places down A frayed and patched, old hat. The Sorting Hat. It has a face of sorts, and just as I'm able to make out which part is its mouth, it begins to sing.

"Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,

But don't judge on what you see,

I'll eat myself if you can find

A smarter hat than me.

"You can keep your bowlers black,

Your top hats sleek and tall,

For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat

And I can cap them all.

"There's nothing hidden in your head

The sorting Hat can't see,

So try me on and I will tell you

Where you ought to be.

"You might belong in Gryffindor,

Where dwell the brave of heart,

Their daring, nerve and chivalry

Set Gryffindor apart,

You might belong in Hufflepuff,

Where they are just and loyal,

Those patient Hufflepuffs are true

And unafraid of toil,

Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,

If you've a ready mind,

Where those of wit and learning,

Will always find their kind,

Or perhaps in Slytherin

You'll make our real friends,

Those cunning folk use many means

To achieve their ends.

"So put me on! Don't be afraid!

And don't get in a flap!

You're in safe hands (though I have none)

For I'm a Thinking Cap!"

The entire Hall bursts into applause and whistles, as well as a few loud shouts of glee from the maroon and gold table, the voices belonging to the pair of Weasley twins we met earlier on the train before departure. I smile at their enthusiasm before they all fall silent again.

Professor McGonagall steps forward with a pretty, parchment scroll, no doubt with our names on.

"When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted," she commands before reading off the first name. "Abbot, Hannah!"

A blonde, pig-tailed girl stumbles forward and puts on the hat before sitting down. There's a short-moment's pause before the hat shouts aloud to us all, but mostly Hannah, "Hufflepuff!"

The Hufflepuff table, the long table to the right holding the children adorned in yellow and black, cheer loudly as Hannah smiles widely and makes her way over to sit on the empty bench closest to the rest of her new house.

"Amethyst, Y/N!" McGonagall shouts next.

There are a couple hushed whispers, which I'm not upset about, as I know my last name is known. My family, after all, is supposed to have all died out. I smile before grinning to Hermione, Ron, and Harry, and then move forward to be sorted as well.

"Ah, an Amethyst!" the hat exclaims once I'm seated. "It's been a long while since I sorted one of you! Now, lets think. You're smart, with a drive to learn... Ravenclaw would do you good. But, you're also loyal, a trait of most Amethysts, and so Hufflepuff would be a good choice also!"

I look anxiously from house table to house table, the yellow one, and the blue, and think about how my life would be if I was sorted into either. Of course, both would be marvelous choices, but I know where I want to be. Exactly where my mother was.

"Hmm, but there's a cunning drive in you, as well, a trait of Slytherin, though also bravery, so much bravery, again, a seemingly common train among the Amethyst family. A deep-routed bravery and drive to help those you're loyal to, as well as the smarts and cunning to help navigate...

"Gryffindor!" it finally shouts, and I thank it within my head before happily stumbling from the stool and moving to the maroon-gold table, the students lining it clapping and cheering as the Hufflepuffs did for Hannah, and I sit and wait for the rest to be sorted.

Many names follow my own, such as Susan Bones, who is sorted into Hufflepuff, and Terry Boot who becomes a quick Ravenclaw. Mandy Brocklehurts becomes another Ravenclaw, and then Lavender Brown is the second to join me in Gryffindor. The girl from my boat, Millicent Bulstrode, is the first sorted into Slytherin. Justin Finch-Fletchly sorts into Hufflepuff, and then Hermione's name is called.

I watch in anticipation as she ascends to the stool quickly and sits down nervously, before jamming the hat on her head in anticipation. Her gaze catches my own, and I throw her a supportive smile, which she anxiously returns.

"Gryffindor!" the hat announces, and I beam happily. I'll have a friend with me after all!

Hermione rushes to our table and slides in front of me, and I smile widely as she does, her cheeks flushed with happiness, as if she's just concurred a dragon.

Many more names pass until another I recognise is sorted with us. Neville Longbottom, the boy with the toad from the train. The poor boy ran off towards us with the hat still on his head though, causing him to flush with embarrassment once he realises.

A snooty looking boy with platinum-blond hair, a pale, round face, and his nose in the air is called soon after. A boy called Draco Malfoy, and to my surprise, I've heard of him before. The name Malfoy, anyway. I remember my mother mentioning bad things about his family. I decide right here and now that avoiding the boy will be within my best interest.

Unsurprisingly, before the hat even really touches him, it's shouting out 'Slytherin!' and I roll my eyes as he swaggers off to the table on the far end.

More names pass, surnames such as Moon, Nott, Parkinson, and a pair of twin girls called Parvati and Padma Patil, then Perks, Sally-Anne, and then Harry Potter.

Both Hermione and I pay closer attention to Harry's sorting than the rest, as do the rest of the Hall, student's younger and older, teachers, and ghosts alike. Murmurs and harsh whispers simmering from person to person, the name 'Potter' slipping from more than one tongue as he sits himself down and McGonagall places the Sorting hat on his head.

The hat is practically silent as it murmurs away to itself and Harry, until it's voice is suddenly ringing out loud for us to hear.

"Not Slytherin, eh? Are you sure? You could be great, you know, it's all here in your head, and Slytherin will help you on your way to greatness, no doubt about that – no? Well, if you're sure – better be, Gryffindor!"

"Ha!" one of the twins exclaims. "We got Potter and the Amethyst!"

There's an eruption of cheers from the Gryffindor table bigger than any before as Harry makes his way over and sits a couple seats down, the others beside Hermione and I now filled with other new Gryffindors, and following closely behind him is the quickly-sorted Ronald Weasley, who sits beside him.

"Well done, Ron, excellent," exclaims another red-head, a pompous boy whom seems to be another of Ron's brothers.

Blaise Zabini is the last name sorted, the boy being pushed into Slytherin, before McGonagall is rolling the scroll back up and taking the Sorting Hat away.

"Well done, you two! I'm glad we can all be in the same house!" I call to Ron and Harry, the two looking over to me and smiling in appreciation before I turn my attention back to Hermione, the girl discussing how she wishes there wasn't a limit on underage magic, and how begin allowed to use magic at home would have allowed her to learn much more than she already has. I smile and add in my agreements.

"It's just a good thing you can learn a fair bit from books, I suppose," I comment. "Or we'd have come here knowing nothing! I'm most glad now, more than ever, than my mum would take me to the library in London most weekends!"

She nods this time before Albus Dumbledore, Hogwarts Head Master, rises to his feet to welcome everyone for their first time here, or to coming back after their breaks.

"Welcome!" he exclaims loudly, "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!

"Thank you!"

Everyone claps and cheers as he sits back down, and I hear Harry comment on whether or not the Head Master is mad.

"Mad?" Ron's other, not-a-twin brother says airily. "He's a genius! Best wizard in the world! But he is a bit mad, yes. Potatoes, Harry?"

The tables are now pilled with food, and I take the opportunity to fill my plate. I didn't eat this morning as I was too nervous, and apart from the Chocolate Frog on the train, I haven't eaten a thing since dinner with Connie last night. I take a fresh bread roll, fill it with shredded, roast chicken, and then slather it in gravy, and then I take a few carrots, and some delicious-looking peas.

I turn to see Harry chatting with the Gryffindor House ghost, and smile and gesture for Hermione to look as well. She, too, smiles and pays attention to the conversation between the group.

"I don't need to, of course, but one does miss it. I don't think I've introduced myself? Sir Nicholas de Mimsy – Propington at your service. Resident ghost of Gryffindor Tower."

"I know who you are!" Ron suddenly pipes. "My brothers told me about you – you're Nearly Headless Nick!"

"I would prefer you call me Sir Nicholas de Mimsy," he began to correct before another first-year sorted to Gryffindor pipes next.

"Nearly headless? How can you be nearly headless?"

"Like this," he says sounding rather irritated.

Sir Nicholas takes a fist-full of hair in hand before teetering his head to the side, his neck tearing in half and bleeding nowhere, a few started gasps leaving the first-years, including myself, before he slaps it back together again. I suppose near-decapitation is how Sir Nick died.

"So, new Gryffindors! I hope you're going to help us win the House Championship this year? Gryffindor has never gone so long without winning. Slytherin have got the cup six years in a row! The Bloody Baron's becoming almost unbearable – he's Slytherin's ghost."

A fair few of us look over towards the Slytherin table to catch a look at the Bloody Baron. The ghost has a blank stare upon his gaunt face, with blank, staring eyes to match, along with a bunch of silvery blood adorning his figure.

"How'd he get covered in blood?" asks Seamus Finnigan, the boy who interrupted Sir Nicholas, with sandy-blond hair.

"I've never asked," Says Nicholas.

The feast proceeds as I swap between talking with Hermione, and occasionally Neville, and listening to Harry, Ron, and a few other boys talk together, and eventually, after everyone's had their fill, the dinner piles are swept away to be replaced by materialising deserts. I take a slice of caramel-fudge cake, topped with a dollop of whipped cream. The other's begin talking about their families now, and I listen intently as I eat the sweet treat.

"I'm half-and-half," says Seamus. "Me dad's a muggle. Mam didn't tell him she was a witch 'til after they were married. Bit of a nasty shock to him."

"What about you, Neville?" Ron questions the quiet boy.

"Well, my gran brought me up and she's a witch, but the family thought I was all Muggle for ages. My great-uncle Algie kept trying to catch me off my guard and force some magic out of me – he pushed me off the end of Blackpool pier once, I nearly drowned – but nothing happened until I was eight. Great-uncle Algie came around for tea and he was hanging me out of an upstairs window by the ankles when my great-auntie Enid offered him a meringue and he accidentally let go. But I bounced... all the way down the garden and into the road. They were all really pleased. Gran was crying, she was so happy. And you should have seen their faces when I got in here – They thought I might not be magic enough to come, you see. Great-uncle Algie was so pleased he brought me my toad."

I hear Hermione talking to Ron's brother, who I now know as Percy, and turn to catch the rest of their chat.

"I do hope they start straight away, there's so much to learn, I'm particularly interested in Transfiguration, you know, turning something into something else, of course, it's supposed to be very difficult," Hermione converses.