Harry awoke, blinking at the sudden burst of sunlight that broke through the window. He grumbled to himself, muttering in annoyance at having to move at all today. Not that anyone expected anything of him, not this morning. All preparations were ready, the guests would come along near evening, and then, well, his life wouldn't change that much, not really.

He had complained about the living arrangements. Having had this room for ten or so years, Harry had become rather attached to it. It wasn't fair to take it away. At least the food wouldn't change. No matter what, that remained delicious, whomever else might be sharing it.

Rolling out of bed, Harry slipped on a casual robe, put his glasses on, and headed down to breakfast. He wore slippers through the hall, not caring who saw him on a day like this. If he ran into anyone else downstairs, he would be surprised. Everyone had taken to eating alone as they prepared for the guests in the last week or so. His slippers were special, prepared with charms to keep them warm and toasty no matter how cold the floor.

His pocket felt weird, too heavy, but he had decided two days before that he would get used to the weight of the wand there, even if he was technically not allowed to use it yet. Heh. Like anyone could resist attempting something or other. Drawing his wand rapidly, he sent a tickling charm at a suit of armour. Its echoing laughter followed him the rest of the way down to the Entrance Hall.

Yawning, he took a look across the hall. No one around, as expected. The Hall always felt wider and more spacious when no one was about. He had seen it crowded, stuffed with loads of students who dwarfed him in size. The slow, sad march away at the holidays, the happy, excited entrances when they returned, he had seen them both. He couldn't blame the students, of course. Whenever he left Hogwarts, he felt homesick. He rarely left, of course, but when he did, it was difficult being away.

His stomach growled, so he shuffled into the Great Hall, taking a seat at a random, as he always did when no one was about. They always used a single table when the students were away on holidays, so he would share with whichever Professors remained. Most took leave, visiting family or enjoying the long break. A few could always be found, researching this, preparing for lessons, and so on. Some never seemed to leave. Harry suspected Professor Trelawney hadn't left the grounds since before he was born. Professor Sprout's plants took a great deal of her time to care for, so her leave was often brief.

The moment Harry sat down, a plate of his favourite breakfast appeared: kippers, poached egg, and a side of bacon, all on toast with a glass of pumpkin juice. How the house elves always knew he was coming to eat had long intrigued him. He had caught one or two cleaning a corridor just last week, but they hardly had time for a catch-up just before school began. Everything had to be perfect for the students.

He ate slowly, chewing his food, thoughtfully. He was one of those new students, today. Not like the others, perhaps. They would all come from their homes and families. He had heard some describe the heartfelt goodbyes they shared at Platform 9 3/4. It sounded wonderful having people care for you that much, but, for him, it was never to be. Hogwarts was his home and he had no family to send him off to school.

Harry couldn't remember it, but at the age of three, a student had told him about his parents. Apparently, he had bawled his eyes out and the student had earned a severe talking to at the hands of Professor McGonagall. He smiled. Of all the professors, she had taken the most time to look out for him. At six, though, all of the professors had had a proper discussion with him about his parents. He didn't remember much from that meeting, but what stuck with him was the admiration and kindness they all had in their voices when they spoke of James and Lily Potter.

That isn't to say he was in the dark. He knew that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, or Nameless as Harry thought of him, had killed his parents and tried to kill Harry. Somehow, he had lived. Then, the professors had taken it up with the Ministry and appealed to have Harry stay here, the safest place in the Wizarding world. So, here he had remained. It was home, the only one he had ever known, anyway.

It was funny to think of himself as a new student, though. Harry had sat in on classes for years. Much of it went over his head, but some of it made sense. Magic was complex, but the professors had mastered it, and countless students since he had come here. He was sure he could do it, too. Harry was excited about finally getting his own wand, there were some things he wanted to try out. Tickling charms aside, his fingers itched to do some of the things he had seen students do over the years. Harry wanted to belong, fully, to this world his parents had left him.

His food half-eaten, Harry stood up and walked off. Before he had gone more than a few paces, he knew the food would be gone. The house-elves below would clean the plate and prepare for whatever they needed next. It reminded him of all the students who came and went. Every year saw a seventh of the students graduate and a new seventh appear. How could the professors take it? So much change, so many coming and going, many never again to cross the halls of Hogwarts. He shook his head. Some did visit, just not often. He had recently seen a few old students in Diagon Alley when he was getting his wand and books.

"Harry! Is it Harry?" asked a woman Harry thought he recognised. "Are you about to start school? How time flies. When I last saw you, you were just a pup."

He hadn't had much to say, so he smiled, held up his books when she asked what he was getting, and struggled to remember what House she had been in. It was difficult to remember, after all, he had been very young when she had graduated. He imagined many would know him by sight better than he would know them. The thought embarrassed him, even as he left the Great Hall, far away from the crowded street and staring faces. He wondered how many had actually known him from school and how many had just heard of him. The attention made him tired, mostly. Having done nothing to earn it; Harry felt they would do better to pay attention to greater people, like Dumbledore.

That phantom of a Headmaster traveled pretty often, trusting his fellow professors to handle the teaching and stepping in only for important matters. It seemed that the Ministry needed his help or advice more frequently than Hogwarts did. However, even when Harry asked if he would leave them to join the Ministry, the old man had smiled, sadly, and said, "No, Harry. I do better work here."

Dumbledore didn't elaborate, but Harry understood from many that he was considered the greatest Headmaster the school had ever had. Everyone knew he was famous for defeating Grindelwald and his work with dragon's blood. Come to think of it, aside from giving speeches at Hogwarts, Harry couldn't think of any time the Headmaster had gone out of his way to draw attention to himself. This made Harry feel a special closeness, even though he hardly saw Dumbledore.

Tonight, though, the important thing would be the Sorting. Harry thought about it, walking down to the lake. Deserted, he sat down at the shore, half-hoping the giant squid would come to say hello, but it must have had better things to do. The day slowly passed, and the sun inched across the sky as Harry enjoyed a quiet day alone, the last he would have for a while, he felt sure. He never could give an answer when someone asked him where he thought he'd be Sorted. On a whim, he had taken up the Sorting Hat a number of times, but even it was conflicted, changing its answer on him from time to time. He wondered if the hat had actually seen changes in him or if it simply liked to mess with young minds.

His parents had been Gryffindor, as had Dumbledore and McGonagall, two professors he admired greatly. Still, so many great witches and wizards he had met or heard of came from the other Houses. It didn't seem like such a big deal to him, as it was. He had gotten along well with students of all Houses, every year. Would that change, though, now that he was one of those students? Would his alignment to one House or another change what everyone thought of him? Or what he thought of them? Why should it? It seemed rather a silly thing, but he worried about it. He knew, though, from talking to old students, it would make a choice, and that's where you would live for seven years.

He would know in the next few hours, but, he secretly dreaded having to be selected by any of them. After all, if he was in his own House, no one could complain about him getting his old room back. It was large, and all his. He had seen the dormitories, from the Ravenclaw and Gryffindor towers, to the dungeons of the Slytherins, and the cave-like home for the Hufflepuffs. They all had their own flair to them, but, they lacked the freedom and space he had known. He supposed every student lost some of that when they started living here. At home, they could probably go anywhere and do anything, but being a student at Hogwarts meant rules. Harry would have to live with that, too.

Before he knew it, the sun had dipped to the level of the ridge off to the west. Harry didn't want to leave his spot, but knew they would be looking for him otherwise. Standing, he walked his way back to the school. Students were already unloading from the carriages near the front doors. Slipping into a secret entrance, Harry raced up to his old room. His things were bundled up neatly, except for his first pair of Hogwarts school robes. These were laid out perfectly, ironed and crisp. Sighing, he slipped out of his casual things, put on the new robes, and put on his castle shoes. Time to meet the others. He breathed deep, ready for his first real adventure.