September 2, 1973

Dear Diary,

The feast and ceremony last night were the coolest things I have ever seen. I was terrified of a bizarre hat that sorted me into Gryffindor. I was worried that I was going to have to do some sort of spell to prove I was a witch or something, but all I had to do was sit there.

The hat said something about that I was bright, wanted to see things to the end, and have the courage not to stop until justice was done. Courage is the trait this house is known for. Right now, I don't feel that brave.

I got to meet some other kids on the train yesterday. I sat next to a nice girl named Abbey who is from an all-magic family. She was a bit of a pain after a little while, because she kept asking so many questions about life at home. I also learned I wasn't all that welcome. When we were getting off the train, an older boy with blonde hair pushed me off onto the platform, and I fell. He just laughed and called me a: 'filthy mudblood'. I found out later this was not a nice thing.

I already miss home, and my parents. Mum said she would write often, but I heard the mail works different here. Everything is sent by owl post. The nice lady from the Ministry explained everything but a letter just isn't the same as having my parents there. I really want to make them proud of me this year by staying out of trouble.

I got called to the matron's office this morning, and I was not too pleased about it. When the lady came from the Ministry to talk to Mum and Dad, she gave them a card with my health information. Unfortunately, Mum put on there the headaches I have been having since that bloody riding accident last year. Madam Pomfrey was very nice, but I don't like talking about what happened. She gave me the third degree until I told her about falling off when that stupid pony refused a fence. So what if I spent several nights in hospital for a concussion. I have to see the school nurse if I get a headache. (That is at least once a week.) I don't want to make a fool of myself over a stupid headache in class and go whining to the school nurse about it. What will the other kids and teachers say?

My dorm mates are lovely, but I am the only person to have muggle parents. I feel a bit lonely. I have spent part of the day reading my schoolbooks and practicing a few charms with my new wand. I discovered I am not half bad! I managed to levitate my quill several feet in the air! I can't stop thinking about the time I was blamed for setting fire to the front room rug when Auntie was telling me off. I overheard Daddy tell Mum the other night he was happy all weird things that seemed to happen around me were not my fault. It's so neat to be able to make things happen when I want them too.

There are so many surprises when you walk down any hallway. I got lost on the way to breakfast this morning when the staircase moved somewhere else. Another student sprained her ankle on a trick step that older students later told us to skip. I decided to touch one of the moving paintings, and it shouted at me! It told me off!

We had to sign up for broom flying lessons today. I hope all those years of horseback riding lessons will help. Somehow, I don't like the idea of hovering twenty or so feet in the air. My balance still stinks since last year's accident. When I told another girl I was scared to fly, two boys came over to tease me. A pretty girl named Lily Evans told them off.

I have met some of my teachers today. My head of house, Professor McGonagall, looks like she can be very tough in class. I wouldn't want to cause trouble in her class. She teaches Transfiguration. (Changing one thing into another.)

The dinner bell is sounding, and I promised my dorm mates, Abbey and Constance, that I would sit with them tonight.



To those who have been following Eleanor's story, welcome back! To those who are new, I would like to introduce myself. I am a teacher who writes from the heart about her own disability of epilepsy and migraines. I have fought this battle for many years and have nearly given up more times than I can count. Eleanor exists in the tapestry of the books. She does not change the story or impacts any plots. Like the first story, my aim is to show the world through the eyes of someone with a disability. (The good days and the really bad ones) This story will take several very dark turns that will touch on some hard topics. (Childhood depression and Suicide) I loved writing 'Profile of an Incompetent Inquisitor', and I am pleased to be sending this out to you,