Professor McGonagall left my side, returning a few moments later with an old stool and a very battered, ragged hat, with a large rip at the brim. She placed the stool on the floor and instructed me to sit on it, then put the hat on my head, where it slipped down over my eyes and plunged me into darkness. I heard a small voice in my ear, and realised that this must be the Sorting Hat.

"Hmm... difficult..." the hat mused, and I was relieved to learn that its voice could only be heard by me, the same way a Legilimens can project their thoughts into someone else's head. "Let me see... you are not patient enough for Hufflepuff, that much is certain, and although you embody many of the traits of a Ravenclaw, I do not feel like you would fit there, either. Perhaps you would do well in Slytherin... but what's this? Tortured daily, you have survived terrible and unspeakable things, and yet you continue to fight to survive - an act that takes great courage and bravery. Yes, there is only one place you truly fit, and that is... GRYFFINDOR!"

The whole room went deathly silent as the Sorting Hat yelled out my house for everyone to hear. I slowly got to my feet, taking the hat from my head and placing it on the stool, the tiniest of smiles gracing my face as I did so. And then, from over at the Gryffindor table, Ginny started clapping. Harry and Hermione soon joined in, then Neville and Ron, and, after a fierce glare from Ginny, so did the three other Weasleys.

"Thank you," I said softly, as I sat down with my new friends.

Glancing back up at the High Table, I could see that almost all of the professors looked shocked. Snape, who'd tutored me in potions, Occlumency, and Legilimency when I was younger, and therefore knew more about how my mind worked than any of the other Death Eaters, looked like he had known all along that I'd be put in the wrong house. And Professor Lupin... the look he was giving me suggested he knew a lot more than I would've liked.

I turned my attention back to Professor Dumbledore as he started to speak again.

"Welcome! Welcome to another year at Hogwarts! I have a few thing to say to you all, and as one of them is very serious, I think it best to get it out of the way before you become befuddled by our excellent feast..." Professor Dumbledore cleared his throat, then continued. "As you will be aware after their search of the Hogwarts Express, our school is presently playing host to some of the Dementors of Azkaban, who are here on Ministry of Magic business."

He paused, and I thought back to the wanted posters at Diagon Alley. Had Black really not been caught yet?

"They are stationed at every entrance to the ground," Professor Dumbledore continued, "and while they are with us, I must make it plain that nobody is to leave the school grounds without permission. Dementors are not fooled by tricks or disguises - or even Invisibility Cloaks. It is not in the nature of a Dementor to understand pleading or excuses. I therefore warn each and every one of you to give them no reason to harm you. I look to the Prefects, and our new Head Boy and Girl, to make sure no student runs afoul of the Dementors."

The eldest of the school-age Weasleys, who Ginny had told me was called Percy, puffed out his chest to show off his Head Boy badge, and stared around impressively. Nobody spoke; it was as if a Silencing Charm had been placed on us all.

"On a happier note," Professor Dumbledore said, after a moment's pause, "I am pleased to welcome two new professors to our ranks this year. Firstly, Professor Lupin, who has kindly consented to fill the post of Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher."

There was some scattered, rather unenthusiastic, applause; only those of us who'd been in the same compartment as Professor Lupin on the train clapped hard. Professor Lupin gave a slight bow, looking particularly shabby next to all the other professors in their best robes.

"As to our second new appointment," Professor Dumbledore continued, as the lukewarm applause for Professor Lupin died away, "well, I am sorry to tell you that Professor Kettleburn, our old Care of Magical Creatures teacher, retired at the end of last year in order to spend more time with his remaining limbs. However, I am delighted to tell you that his place will be filled by none other than our very own Rubeus Hagrid, who has agreed to take on this teaching job in addition to his gamekeeping duties."

I once again joined in with the applause, which was tumultuous at the Gryffindor table in particular.

"We should've known!" Ron roared, pounding the table. "Who else would've set us a biting book?"

"Well, I think that's everything of importance," said Professor Dumbledore, when the applause had finally stopped. "Let the feast begin!"

I watched in amazement as the empty plates and bowls on the table were filled with delicious-looking food, most of which I didn't even recognise. Everyone else filled their plates with whatever they wanted, but I knew I wasn't allowed to do the same.

"Ivory, why aren't you eating?" Ginny asked. "You really ought to, you look half-starved!"

"I'm not hungry," I said, finding it easier to give an excuse than to explain the irregular eating pattern my mother and father enforced. Some people, I knew, would take my perfectly reasonable explanation the wrong way, and twist it into being something bad.

Ginny opened her mouth to say something else, but she was interrupted by the arrival of Draco Malfoy.

"Malfoy," I said, having to make a conscious effort not to show my irritation. "What do you want?"

"I was simply coming to inform you that your parents are not going to be happy," he sneered.

"I know that already, thanks," I said, quickly putting on my emotionless mask to hide the wave of fear that had just crashed over me. I'd been so caught up in people accepting me, in having proper friends, in maybe finally being free, that I hadn't stopped to fully think about what Mother and Father would do to me on Sunday.

Sunday. Oh Merlin.

"Go away, Malfoy," Ron snapped, glaring at him.

"Oh, one more thing. This is from my father."

He punched me hard in the face, and there was the horrible crack of breaking bone as blood started to drip from my nose. I flinched, but otherwise gave no reaction; Malfoy would only take it as an incentive to hurt me more, I knew that much. Smirking, he went back to the Slytherin table, where Crabbe and Goyle were laughing at what had just happened.

"Git," I muttered, fixing my nose with a quick episkey. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Professor McGonagall hurrying over.

"Riddle," she said, sounding oddly worried, "are you alright?"

I nodded, using another wandless charm to clean the blood from my face. "Yes, Professor."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, Professor," I said again, wondering why she was being so nice to me.

Professor McGonagall hesitated, then said, "Very well," and headed back to the High Table. I watched as she started to talk to Professor Dumbledore, looking over at me every now and then. I wondered what she was saying. That she was worried about me? That certainly seemed to be what her facial expression was suggesting. But why? Why would she even care?

It was only a broken nose, after all.