Hello everybody... this is my first fanfiction EVER, so - forgive me if it's not that good. Also, I apologize for any linguistic mistakes, 'cause I'm not a native English speaker :) What else? Ah right, please review.

Disclaimer: Obviously, I don't own Harry Potter.

HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY

Headmaster: ARMANDO DIPPET

Dear Ms Riley,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.

Yours sincerely,

Albus Dumbledore

Deputy Headmaster

I had always known that sometime, I would receive this letter. I had known that I – daughter of a pureblood witch and a pureblood wizard – would be a witch, too and that I was magical enough to be at Hogwarts.

I hadn't known that my parents would grant me the choice. I cheered. No doubt that I would attend Hogwarts! I could see the disappointed look in my mother's eyes but I didn't care. Could she really expect that I would deny my magical abilities just like she and my dad did? It was ridiculous!
I would be a real witch now, no denying anymore. I would go to Hogwarts after all! My mother sighed, almost in despair, but once again, I didn't care.

"I am sorry, but I can find no other cabin, may I..." My voice trailed off shyly, unable to say anything more. I had already experienced the worst today.

The boy sitting next to the window barely shrugged and I took that as a yes. I had no other option, anyway. I sat down across from him. He had dark hairs and pale skin. As he raised his head, I could see his brown eyes. I shivered. Usually, this brown colour was somewhat warm. His eyes were cold.

"I'm Lorraine Riley. What's your name?"

"Tom Riddle."

"Riddle?" I repeated, thinking hardly. I had never heard that name mentioned.

His face lighted up, somehow excited. "You know any Riddles?"

I shook my head and he seemed disappointed.

"Pity."

"Why? You're not pureblood, are you?" I didn't even know why I asked; after all I couldn't care less about blood status. My parents were what blood-fanatics would call "blood-traitors". They had decided to live without magic amongst the muggles. Only when I had received my letter, I had been allowed to choose.

"I... I don't know. I grew up in an orphanage."

"Oh," I muttered. "I'm sorry."

"It's alright."

We stayed silent until I finally asked: "So you didn't even know you were a wizard?"

He frowned. "I knew I was special."

"You made things happen."

He simply nodded.

"You're surely glad."

"Huh?"

"To be amongst your own."

"Are you?"

"Incredibly so."

He smiled softly, the first time something like warmth, any emotion at all, entered his eyes and I returned his smile encouragingly.

"Which house do you want to be sorted in?"

"Which house?" he repeated, completely unaware of what I was talking about.

I giggled and spent the next half an hour to discuss the advantages and disadvantages of the four different houses. Personally, I just hoped not to be sorted to Slytherin. Not because I especially disliked it or its history, but because I knew I would hardly be accepted there. Tom, on the other hand, seemed rather thrilled when I told him about Slytherin, especially when I told him that the snake was its symbol.

"Why?" he asked with that special sparkle of interest in his eyes.

I shrugged. "Probably because Salazar Slytherin – the founder, you see – was as a Parselmouth."

"A Parselmouth?" he repeated and I sighed. I forgot that he lacked a real magical background.

"He could talk to snakes. Speak their language, if you want – the parseltongue."

Again, something sparkled in his eyes. Recognition? But the emotion didn't last long enough for me to decide whether I was right.

"I see," he finally said.

"Yeah, it's quite uncommon."

He nodded and looked out the window. "And your parents..."

I frowned as I didn't particularly like to talk about my parents. "What about them?"

"They're both wizards?"

"Yes. But... they decided to live without magic."

His gaze rushed to my face. "Why would they do that?"

"They despised this pureblood-fanaticism. They despised that so many people hate muggles. They've grown to despise the whole wizarding world."

"That's a shame."

"It is."

"But they went to Hogwarts?"

I sighed. Why was he so damn interested in that? Still I felt... I felt like I could trust him. Like he would understand and like I could just tell him anything. Like he was a friend. "Yes. They both were in Ravenclaw."

"So you expect going there, too?"

"I would be okay with it."

Someone opened the door and my gaze shot up. It was a boy, already dressed in his Hogwarts-uniform. He was probably in his fifth or sixth year and he obviously was a Gryffindor, as his tie glowed in bright red.

"First years?" he presumed and I nodded.

"Charlus Potter, prefect. We gonna arrive in half an hour, I suggest you dress up."

I returned after having dressed up. Tom also had, he looked somehow fashionably in his robes. I sat opposite to him again.

"Soon, we're going to see Hogwarts."

"May I ask a favour of you?"

I raised an eyebrow in surprise. "What would that be?"

"May I see your wand?"

"Why?" I asked while pulling it out. Of course I didn't mind.

He took it from me and looked at it. "Tell me about it."

"It's blackthorn, 11 inches, dragon heartstring."

"Was it your first try?"

I frowned. "No, my second. Why do you want to know?"

He shrugged. "Just interested."

"Give it back to me."

He handed it over and sent me an apologetic glance. "I meant no offense."

"Now, we do play fair, don't we? What about yours?"

His eyes widened and he sighed. "It's yew. 13½ inches, phoenix feather."

"Phoenix feather?" I repeated. That was unusual. Though I had to admit – blackthorn and dragon heartstring was not a most usual combo. Or a combo that not many people would like. "Show me," I begged.

He pulled it out and I took it. It was most beautiful and I could feel the power eroding from it. At the same time, I felt this power wasn't mine to use. This wand belonged – though only for such a short time – completely to the young boy across from me.

"Well, it's surely mighty."

"How do you know?"

I shrugged. "Wands with a phoenix feather are known to be very mighty."

The train slowed down and I glanced outside the window in frantic expectation. This would be my life now; I finally could be who I really was.

We entered the Great Hall in single file, but we soon loosened up as there was enough space. I didn't allow my eyes to settle even for a second, there was just so much to take in. Just then the sorting began. And the Professor, a man with a long brown beard and sympathetic, yet serious eyes started calling out the names. Starting with Abbott, sorted into Hufflepuff, followed by Avery, sorted into Slytherin...

"Hey, that's the man who told me I'm a wizard," Tom whispered, pointing at the Professor.

"What's his name?"

"Dumbledore."

I nodded and muttered: "He seems nice."

"Don't share the feeling."

Lestrange, sorted into Slytherin. Then, Longbottom, sorted into Gryffindor. Malfoy, sorted into Slytherin.

Finally, it was time for R. "Riddle, Tom."

He shot me a quick glance and I nodded encouragingly, suddenly filled by the irrational hope that he might be in the same house as me, probably Ravenclaw. He stepped in front and set down. Professor Dumbledore put the hat on his head and... "SLYTHERIN!"

I gasped. The hat had barely touched his head! There were quick decisions, truth be told, we had seen some today but this was rather exceptional. I gulped. Tom got up and joined the Slytherins who clapped fanatically.

"Riley, Lorraine."

I moved forward and sat down. He put the hat on me and suddenly, I heard a voice.

"Well, well, blood traitor, huh?"

I frowned. Great, even the hat was a pureblood-fanatic.

"Not at all... well, intelligent so much is clear, really, rather brilliant...but cunning, as well, ready to reach your goals. Still, I think, better go to..."

"RAVENCLAW!" the hat shouted out loud and I sighed in relief. At least, this was what I had wished for. The same house my parents attended. Though... of course it wasn't with Tom. Why the hell did that bother me? I barely knew the boy!

I sat down next to a girl who had earlier been sorted to Ravenclaw. Something with an H, I couldn't quite recall.

"So, Lorraine Riley ,aren't your parents these..."

"Blood-traitors, right."

"I didn't mean to say that."

"But you thought it."

She shrugged. "I'm Olive Hornby. Meant no offense."

I smiled. "Sorry, that's just a..."

"Sore point."

"Right."

She smiled as we watched the sorting go on. Smith, sorted into Hufflepuff. Then Weasley, sorted into Gryffindor.

My gaze met Tom's, sitting in the mass of Slytherins. I shot him an apologetic look, he shrugged and smiled. He seemed quite happy with his sorting, though.