Whispers echoed through the room. The chorus of "WE GOT POTTER!" from the Gryffindor table had ended. All eyes were on the group of unsorted first years.

"Ivy Potter?"

"Like Harry?"

"But she died...right?"

"Maybe it's a coincidence..."

Ivy caught Hermione's eye from the Ravenclaw table, and she shrugged: for once admitting that she didn't know.

"Potter, Ivy. Please step forward," Professor McGonagall looked at her expectantly.

Ivy took a deep breath and walked up the steps to the stool. The whispers didn't end until she sat down on the stool and the hat was put on her head.

Ah...another Potter. Many of them have done well in Gryffindor, and I can see that you are very devoted to those you love, a trait of Hufflepuffs. You are very cunning like a Slytherin, yet wise like a Ravenclaw. But where to put you...

Another...Potter?

Yes...the one who all had deemed dead. You almost died, but you did not. Such determination and bravery in all that pain could make a great Gryffindor. But it was also your intelligence that saved you. But which house would fit you best...

I don't know! My friends are in Gryffindor, my sister is in Ravenclaw, Draco's in Slytherin...I just want a house! Something that fits me, somewhere I can flourish...

Well...if you say so...I think you'll "flourish" in...

"...RAVENCLAW!"

McGonagall took the hat off of Ivy's head and she rushed over to the Ravenclaw table eagerly. She sat down next to Hermione as the Ravenclaws screamed "WE GOT POTTER! WE GOT POTTER!" just as the Gryffindors had.

"Sorry about earlier..." Ivy muttered to Hermione.

"Oh, it's fine. It's not like I have many friends to begin with, it's not like I could've gone without you for long."

"Padma Patil, pleasure to meet you," one of the other new Ravenclaws said, shaking Ivy's hand.

"Oh, uh, it's nice to meet you too, Padma."

"Penelope Clearwater, Miss. Potter," an older student—about fourteen or fifteen years old—stuck out her hand for a shake.

"J-Just call me Ivy, Penelope."

"I'm Cho Chang," an Asian second year came up to Ivy eagerly.

"I'm—well, you already know my name. But, hi Cho."

"Ravenclaw might have a shot at winning the house cup. Slytherin's won it for years on end, but it'll likely end up being a battle between Ravenclaw and Gryffindor. You versus your brother," Penelope explained to Ivy.

"Is he really my brother? Or is it just a coincidence?"

"It's too much of a coincidence to actually be one. It must be true. You could talk to a professor about it, though. Professor Dumbledore most likely knows, and Professor McGonagall would likely know too."

"RAVENCLAW!" the sorting hat yelled as it sorted a kid named Matt Wainwright. Ivy listened, knowing Ron would be coming up soon. Soon apparently meant next as the next name to be called was...

"Weasley, Ronald."

Ron nervously stepped up to the stool, and after a little under a minute it yelled his house.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

"Dammit, it's just us two..." Ivy sighed.

"I mean, we could become friends with some of the other Ravenclaws..."

"Or the Slytherins..."

"Ivy, here's a little something from the book Hogwarts: A History that you might want to know. The book states that: 'Every evil witch or wizard that has attended Hogwarts has been sorted into Slytherin.' "

"Every single one? Really? I bet I could prove you wrong."

"Have fun with that," Hermione scoffed.

"Oh...I will," Ivy gave an evil smile.

The two of them started laughing and once they stopped the last student—Zabini, Blaise—had been sorted into Slytherin.

Professor Dumbledore made a "speech" consisting of a few words—Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!—food appeared on the table. The most food either of them had ever seen.

Both smiling, they started to eat.

-={+}=-

Illyn watched the sorting with cold eyes, not showing any emotion as each student was sorted. Even when students were sorted into Slytherin, she did nothing. Lucy, sitting next to her, hugged her brother as he came to the Slytherin table, and stared Harry Potter down. When Harry was sorted into Gryffindor, she booed quietly.

But Illyn looked contemplative. And when Ivy Potter stepped up, she seemed even more so. "The lost Potter," she mumbled, watching as Ivy conversed with the hat in her head.

"I can't believe she lived," Lucy whispered to nobody in particular.

"It's for a similar reason as her brother. It must be. And do you see that—on the back of her right hand?"

"See what?"

"That scar. It's the same as her brother's famous lightning scar, only on the back of her right hand."

"I can't...ok I think I see it. That weird mark?"

Illyn gave a slight nod.

As Ivy was finally sorted into Ravenclaw, Lucy booed quietly, but Illyn stared straight at the new Ravenclaw.

"She'll do well...too well..." Illyn whispered so quietly Lucy had to strain her ears to hear her.

"So, since I'm a new prefect, and you're the sixth year prefect, so are you gonna teach me stuff?"

"No, that's not something I have to do. I'll attempt to convince the head boy or girl to give us rounds together, but that's all I can do. Maybe next year I'll be head girl, and I can do even more for us. But we should keep a close watch on Ivy and her brother. I have a feeling one or both of them will take after their father. Have you heard of their father and his little gang?"

Lucy nodded. Her father talked about them all the time. About how terrible they were. How...good. She didn't believe her father. The Potters most certainly weren't perfect, from what she'd heard from Professor Snape. The two were on rather good terms, and perhaps he would tell her about his childhood with the Potters—which her father had informed her was not great for the now professor.

On second thought, Professor Snape wasn't one to show his emotions. Like Illyn. She might ruin her good terms with the professor, which she didn't want to do.

"I think Ivy took after her mother, as she's in Ravenclaw," Lucy observed. "And Harry took after his father I suppose. So perhaps we should keep a closer eye on him then on her. Of course, a close eye on both would be required, but a closer eye on Harry. Agreed?"

Illyn—again—gave a slight nod. I want to know how they lived. And why everything bad happens around me. The two could be related even, likely not. But you never know...