Chapter 32 : Speculations

"Wow," Terry breathed, staring up at it, mouth wide open.

Even Blaise and Daphne looked awed, forgetting to keep their expressions in check for a moment.

Daphne was quick to catch herself and swiftly regressed back to the same "cold beauty" vibe.

Blaise didn't bother hiding it at all, tilting his head back to take in the towers with open curiosity.

Tyson also found himself staring. Hogwarts was better than it was shown in the movie. Better than any art. In fact, it was better than even his imagination, back when he'd been a little kid reading 'Sorcerer's Stone' in the middle of the night with a flashlight under his blankets.

It didn't look like a school. It looked like a living fortress that had simply decided, out of some ancient generosity, to let people in.

"Duck yer heads or you'll knock 'em off!" Hagrid's voice boomed out over the water as the boats slid beneath a curtain of ivy and into a tunnel carved straight into the cliffside.

Tyson ducked along with the others, and darkness swallowed the boat whole. For a few seconds there was nothing aside from the sound of water lapping against stone and the occasional startled gasp from someone who hadn't ducked quite low enough.

After a few seconds, the tunnel opened up into an underground landing.

As the boats came to a halt, Hagrid called for everyone to climb out, and the group filed onto solid ground at last.

"Up these steps," the half-giant said, leading the way into the castle.

The passage led into a wide stone corridor lined with torches, ending at a massive wooden door reinforced with steel. Hagrid raised a fist the size of a dinner plate and knocked three times.

A few seconds later, the door creaked open.

A tall witch in emerald robes stood in the doorway. Her expression was stern in a way that looked less like an expression and more like something she was born with.

Professor McGonagall.

"Thank you, Hagrid," she said crisply. "I'll take them from here."

"Right then." Hagrid gave the group a smile. "Good luck, first years."

He turned and strolled back the way they'd come, lantern light shrinking into the dark behind him.

Professor McGonagall's sharp gaze swept over them, lingering briefly on Harry before shifting and settling on him.

As their eyes met, Tyson nodded at her. She blinked, before nodding back. Then, just as quickly, she turned on her heel.

"Follow me."

They fell into step behind her, not paying attention to the heavy door that automatically creaked shut behind them.

The corridor beyond was nothing like the tunnel they'd just come from. It was wide and warmly lit, lined with living portraits that murmured as they passed, and polished suits of armor between them at intervals.

The whole floor was made from gleaming white stones, which only added to its aesthetic beauty.

After a few more minutes of walking, they eventually came to a stop in front of a colossal double door. The noise of chatter drifted out from the other side.

Professor McGonagall stopped there and turned to face them.

Soon, they formed a wide semicircle around her.

He, along with Harry and Ron, ended up near the front, and somehow Daphne had drifted close enough that she was standing right beside him. Hermione and Neville pressed in just behind.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," McGonagall said in the same crisp tone. "I am Professor McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress of this school, and I will be teaching you Transfiguration during your time at Hogwarts."

She paused for a moment, letting her words sink in before continuing.

"Behind this door," she said, gesturing toward it with a small motion of her hand, "is the Great Hall. The Sorting Ceremony will take place shortly. Based on its result, you will each be placed into one of the four houses—Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, or Slytherin."

"Each House has its own history and its own traditions, all worth being proud of, regardless of what you may have heard from older siblings or cousins eager to unsettle you before you've even walked through these doors."

Her eyes flicked, just briefly, toward Ron near the front, though whether that was coincidence or intentional, Tyson couldn't tell.

"Your House will be something like a family while you're here. You'll share dormitories, meals, and classes, and more often than not, the friendships you make within those walls will outlast even your years at Hogwarts entirely."

Her expression suddenly turned much more stern as she continued, "Good behavior earns your House points. Breaking rules will cost House points. At the end of the year, the House with the highest number of points will be awarded the House Cup. It is not merely an award. The House Cup represents the honor of a house."

Her gaze swept over them once again. "Now, the Sorting Ceremony will begin soon. I suggest you straighten your robes while you wait."

Saying this, she went inside, leaving them in the corridor. And if there was one certainty in the universe, it was that a group of unsupervised eleven-year-olds could not stay quiet for long.

Within seconds the corridor was filled with chatter, dozens of hushed conversations overlapping with one another.

Suddenly, Tyson noticed Ron had gone pale beside him, arms wrapped around himself.

"What's wrong, Ron?" Tyson asked, glancing sideways at him. "You look like you've just walked in on your mom and dad."

Ron looked at him in confusion for a moment, not understanding what he meant, before letting out a shaky breath and shuddering. "It's the sorting ceremony. I don't know how I forgot about it. Fred told me there's going to be a... test."

That got Harry's attention immediately, his head turning sharply enough that his fringe fell half over his eyes. "A test? What kind of test?"

Behind them, Hermione and Neville leaned in too, interest flickering in their eyes. Even a few nearby first years who'd clearly caught the tail end of it went quiet to listen.

Tyson bit back a sigh.

Right. He'd also forgotten about that.

Apparently, every year some older student made it their business to feed the new first years complete nonsense about the sorting, and every year at least a few of them believed it without question, right up until the moment they walked into the Hall and saw it was nothing more than an old hat.

Truly insidious.

Ron lowered his voice, taking on a grave tone, like he was sharing a state secret that could get him executed just for repeating it. "We'll have to... fight a mountain troll."

Harry went rigid, the color draining from his face. "A mountain troll? Like, the ones in our Defence book?"

It was one of the books that interested Harry, and he'd read the entry twice over the summer, fascinated and faintly horrified in equal measure. And from what it suggested, Mountain Trolls were creatures that even an adult wizard would find difficult to subdue. Their height easily exceeded twenty feet, and they had a very strong resistance to magic.

How were they supposed to fight something like that in their first year!?

"That's the one," Ron nodded gravely. "Those who give up like cowards will be sorted into Slytherin. Fight bravely, you're Gryffindor. Fight smartly, and you end up in Ravenclaw. And whoever's left after that... well, they're Hufflepuffs. Someone's got to be there."

Behind them, Hermione let out a sharp, rattling breath, while Neville looked like he had just seen a ghost, his face completely pale. Those who had been listening also looked horrified.

"You're an idiot to believe that," a cold voice cut in.

Tyson's head turned to his right in surprise, glancing at Daphne, who had just spoken.

Had the ice queen finally deemed them worthy to speak to them?

...

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