Thursday, September 1st, 1994
"First years," Jennifer called out to a new student joining the exodus to their room. Gesturing for them to turn around and join the group of students circling her and her friend. After waiting for the last first-year to join and for the mummers to quieten down, Jennifer began addressing the new students. "Hello everyone. My name is Jennifer Pinnock, and it's a pleasure to be your Ravenclaw Prefect. I know most of you introduced yourselves during the feast, but for those who did not get a chance to interact with others, I would like you to introduce yourselves and share one interesting fact about yourself. This would also allow for the traffic to calm down. Two dragons, one wand. Percy, would you like to start us off?"
"Hellooo," said the other seventh-year while giving an awkward wave. "My name is Percival, and one interesting fact about me is that my right arm is slightly longer than my left."
As they all introduced each other, the two seventh-years watched each and every one of their reactions. Some faces were filled with anticipation, while others bore expressions of nervousness. Some knew about the magic world, while some knew barely anything.
After introductions were completed, the prefect led the Ravenclaws towards the moving staircase, right behind the Gryffindor first years, with the head boy at the back. Percival noted that his year had the largest number of male students in the past fifteen years. He was the only boy with four girls in his cohort.
Jennifer halted as she waited for all the Gryffindor first years to make adequate progress on the stairs. She had stopped in a spot where the new first years could not see the magnificence of the stairs just yet.
"Could you all settle down now?" asked the prefect politely. Waiting a few moments for them to quieten down, Jennifer continued as she slowly backed towards the stairs. As the new students trickled forward, gasps could be heard and shock could be felt. They watched on speechless as the stairs in front of them rearranged themselves.
"Welcome to the first stop of our partial tour. Behind me is a beautiful piece of architecture and magic, the Moving Staircase," Jennifer said with bravado, stepping aside with both hands gesturing to the staircase.
The first years approached. Sensing it was being watched, the final pieces of the stair came together, the marble steps creaking softly as they shifted position. The first-years gathered even closer to the foot of the staircase, their eyes analysing the structure with curiosity and wonder. The two seventh years reminisced, seeing themselves in this cohort. They had a similar reaction when they first saw this.
"The Grand Staircase is the largest stairway in Hogwarts Castle. It is primarily used to access different floors of the castle, including the dungeons and the clock tower you might have seen on your trek here. Rowena Ravenclaw, the founder of our great house, co-created this marvel of architecture and magic with the architect of this castle. There are a hundred and forty-two staircases at Hogwarts: wide, sweeping ones; narrow, rickety ones; some that lead somewhere different on a Friday; some with a vanishing step halfway up that you have to remember to jump," Jennifer narrated as she slowly made her way to the front. "Follow me."
Jennifer walked at a brisk pace at first, but when she noticed them stopping and admiring the spectacle, she slowed down considerably. Some followed eagerly like lost puppies, while some moved at a snail's pace with their eyes wide with wonder, and some remained in place hoping that this wasn't a dream. The head boy remained at the back of the aerie, making sure no raven was left behind.
By the halfway point to the top, all the new students were back in a big huddle. One particularly observant student looked over his right shoulder and noticed that the stairs behind them were slowly disassembling themselves and were almost at their heel. In a moment of brief distraction, the student's feet caught each other. Panic rushed through his eyes as they anticipated the harsh landing.
But the harsh landing never came. What did arrive was the sharp impact of his collar crashing into his throat as something tugged his cloak back. Moments later air came rushing back as he felt a large hand on his left shoulder. Turning to the left, the new student saw the head boy at eye level examining his neck.
"Are you okay? I couldn't reach my wand in time. I apologise for tugging at your cloak that harshly," said the older student as the group slowly created some distance. "Your throat should bruise. If it feels sore or hurts, come and tell me. We'll get Madam Pomphrey on it as quickly as learning Lumos."
"Thank you," the younger student said shyly.
"Come on, let's rejoin the group," Percival said as he offered his hand to the child, who hesitantly accepted. "Although the stairs do disappear, the staircase is sentient enough to leave enough stairs for even the slowest of walkers."
Noticing that his fact did nothing to stop the child from constantly turning his shoulder, Percival tried to figure out a way to divert the child's attention.
"You mentioned you had a dog named Krypto. Can I assume you're also a fellow Superman fan?" asked the older student as the young child snapped his head towards Percival.
"You know Superman?" the child asked excitedly. "I like Superman; he's my parents' favourite. But I like the Flash the best. He's super duper smart, and he's really fast. Like super fast. Faster than Superman. Who's your favourite? Please say it's the Flash."
"My answer might be a little boring, but it's Batman," Percival replied, much to the dismay of the boy. "Blue Beetle and the Flash are currently fighting it out for second position."
"Flash should be number one," the boy said as he showed one finger. "When I went to the book shop and asked about comic books, they looked at me like I was a weird animal. Do you know where I could find more comics?"
"Unfortunately, you won't find any in Hogwarts, much less magical Britain."
"Why's that?"
"Comics haven't found their way into the magic world yet. I don't think they ever will," the older boy replied honestly.
"Maybe I could create the first ever magic comic," the young boy dreamt. "And maybe I could use those moving pictures, like the ones in the newspaper, to do all the fight scenes. Imagine that. I would be like a film on paper. That would be so cool."
"That sounds very cool. If you ever need a book recommendation to get you started, you can always come and find me," Percival said, and the younger student nodded in deep contemplation.
As they managed to catch the straggler of the herd, Percival noticed two had stopped. Once the two gentlemen rejoined the back of the group, the two stragglers finally moved. They matched the head boy's pace and walked in silence. Percival recognised the type of silence around the two stragglers, a type he was intimately familiar with: the type of silence one needed to properly formulate a question.
"Excuse me, Mr Percival." Percival turned to face the two stragglers. One of the girls he recognised from a social gathering from the summer, and the other seemed to resemble a current student.
"Percy is fine."
"Mr Percy. During the sorting, it felt like there was something between the people in green and red. Is there something between them?" she asked.
Percival struggled to formulate the right words for the complex question. The younger boy woke from his deep contemplation after the prolonged silence. "To be honest, I don't know how to best describe it. Do you want the shorter answer or the more factual answer? I do have to warn you, they are both long answers."
The three new students glanced at each and unanimously decided the more factual answer, as Percival entered lecturer mode. "Yes, there is something between the red and the green. According to the most credible source from the time of the founders, Godric Gryffindor and Salazar Slytherin were described to be 'brothers in everything but blood'. The text's closest translation was something like 'Kin-blood is not spoilt by water', before it was blatantly plagiarised by Heinrich Der Gilchmere. Anyways, the source claims there was an event that created a rift. Some accounts say that witch hunters found Slytherin's family, killed and tortured them, before owling their heads to him. Slytherin wanted revenge, and Gryffindor said that 'more violence is not the answer'."
Percival took a second to make sure children were not shaken by the brief retelling and to catch his breath before he continued. "In other retellings, Slytherin became a recluse. He spent years hiding beneath Hogwarts perfecting a branch of magic. Scholars assume it was either sangromancy or divination. Whatever branch of the arcane he studied, he came out with a hatred for all things non-magical, with Gryffindor trying to contain his bloodlust. There are a lot more variations for the event, but the chronology stays mostly the same. Something happened to Slytherin that made him hate everything but magic. Gryffindor tries to stop the hate from consuming his friend, and then a feud begins. And this feud has been passed down through generations."
"Does this feud happen outside school?" asked the other girl.
"Very unlikely. It might happen, but most people put the mutual dislike away once they graduate. Most people..."
"If we get into the feud, who should we, you know, stick with?" interrupted the girl who asked the question before she answered her own question. "My mother said we should always side with Slytherin because all Gryffindors are big dumb-dumbs."
"We should not pick sides based on what our parents tell us. Ideally, we would hear both sides of the story and side with the ones who you believe are in the right," the head boy corrected.