The golden sun dipped low over the Scottish Highlands, painting the sky with streaks of amber and violet as the Hogwarts Express screeched to a halt. The hiss of steam filled the platform as students clambered from their compartments, voices buzzing with nervous excitement and awe. For many, this would be their first step into the magical world they'd only dreamed of—into the ancient halls of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
Among the crowd of wide-eyed first-years, one figure stood out like a thunderclap in a church.
Inosuke Hashibira.
He disembarked from the train by climbing down the side ladder instead of walking through the corridor like everyone else. His bare feet slapped against the stone platform as he landed with a heavy thud, startling a group of students mid-chat. His shirtless torso bore the legacy of countless battles—scarred, toned, and entirely inappropriate for school attire. The wild boar mask still sat firmly on his head, and the two metal rods he had collected earlier were strapped across his back like twin swords.
Hermione Granger stepped out just behind him, her face already flushed with embarrassment. She caught up with him in three long strides, clutching the strap of her bag like it was a lifeline.
"Inosuke!" she hissed. "You can't go to Hogwarts dressed like that! You look like a wild creature!"
"I am a wild creature!" Inosuke bellowed proudly, raising his arms as though announcing himself to the heavens. "A beast of battle! A conqueror of magic trains!"
A ripple of whispers passed through the surrounding students like wind through tall grass. Some pointed. Others backed away. A few older students from other years stopped dead in their tracks to gawk at the shirtless newcomer. Even the most confident first-years shrank behind their robes, unsure whether they were supposed to admire or flee from the boar-masked lunatic.
"Merlin's beard," muttered a tall boy with a prefect badge. "What is that?"
Hermione groaned. "They're going to think you're some escaped magical experiment!"
"Let them think!" Inosuke shouted. "Their fear gives me power!"
"They cower because they sense my superior fighting spirit!"
A few Slytherins passing by snickered under their breath. "Bet he doesn't even know what Hogwarts is," one whispered. "Looks like he wrestled a werewolf and lost."
Inosuke heard them.
His head whipped around. "Who said that?! Come fight me!"
The Slytherins quickened their pace and disappeared into the crowd.
Hermione grabbed his arm—well, she tried to. Her hand barely fit halfway around the sinewy muscle of his forearm. "You're going to get in trouble before you even enter the castle if you don't put something on!"
"Clothes are chains," Inosuke grunted. "They trap your soul. I will never wear the fabric of the weak."
"Covering my chest would offend the forest gods."
"Your chest is offending me," Hermione muttered.
As the first-years gathered near the platform edge, a lantern bobbed through the crowd.
"Firs'-years! Firs'-years this way!" came a booming voice.
Hermione turned in relief. "That must be our guide. Let's go!"
Sure enough, a giant of a man stood towering above the crowd, curly beard and wild hair framing a face so kind it immediately dispelled some of Hermione's anxiety.
"That's him!" she whispered to Inosuke. "He is Very important. Please don't headbutt him."
Inosuke tilted his head. "Big man. Might be strong. I'll test him later."
"Let's not test him," Hermione pleaded.
They followed the group of first-years down a winding dirt path, through the darkening trees. Gasps filled the air as the lake came into view—vast and black beneath the rising moon. Small boats waited at the edge, gently rocking in place.
"No more'n four to a boat!" Hagrid called.
Hermione climbed into one boat. Inosuke immediately leapt into another, landing with a crack that nearly tipped it sideways. A few students scrambled to avoid sharing the boat with him.
One brave soul, a chubby boy with trembling hands, edged in. "C-can I sit here…?"
"Only if you don't cry when we're attacked by lake monsters!" Inosuke warned, slapping his knee. "I've heard legends of giant squid! I welcome the challenge!"
The boy immediately climbed back out.
Hermione sighed again, deciding it was easier to just let him do what he wanted. Arguing only led to louder shouting.
As the boats drifted forward, the towering silhouette of Hogwarts rose before them—its glowing windows and towering turrets reflected on the dark water like stars caught in ink.
The gasps of awe from the other first-years were quickly drowned out by Inosuke's delighted shriek.
"IT'S A CASTLE! A REAL ONE! LIKE IN THE STORIES!"
"This is where I claim my throne of strength!"
The boats pulled into the dock and the children disembarked, dripping water onto their robes. Inosuke leapt to shore before the boat had even stopped, landing in a crouch like a predator ready to strike. He spun in a full circle, arms wide, drinking in every towering detail of the castle looming above them.
Hermione jogged after him, looking both winded and exasperated. "When we go inside, please, please just follow directions. No charging, no headbutting, and definitely no roof climbing."
"I will follow my own direction!" Inosuke declared, puffing his chest out. "Rules are for the weak! I am guided by instinct!"
"That's not how school works!" she snapped, wringing the water from her sleeve.
As they climbed the wide stone steps leading to the entrance of the castle, the great oak doors loomed before them like the jaws of a sleeping beast. And standing before those doors, arms crossed, robes immaculate, was Professor McGonagall.
Her lips thinned the moment her eyes fell on the shirtless, mud-smeared, boar-masked figure leading the group like a barbarian chieftain returning from conquest.
She blinked once. Then sighed deeply.
"Hashibira," she said flatly.
Inosuke jolted upright, pointing dramatically at her.
"HORNED HAG! WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?!" he bellowed. "I LEFT YOU BEHIND IN THE FAR AWAY PLACE! DID YOU TELEPORT? NO—ARE YOU A WITCH-SPIRIT WHO FLIES THROUGH TREES?!"
Hermione slapped her forehead. "That's Professor McGonagall, not a Witch-Spirit."
McGonagall adjusted her spectacles with the calm patience of someone used to being accused of spectral flight. "I'm the Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts. And Transfiguration Professor. And, regrettably, a Head of House."
Inosuke squinted beneath his boar mask. "You hold that many titles? That is impressive."
"But how did you beat the train?" he asked, still suspicious.
Minerva arched a brow. "While you were scaling the roof of the train like an escaped chimera, I traveled back ahead of you via a Floo-connected fireplace once the train departed. I'm not only a witch, Mr. Hashibira—I am a punctual one."
"FLOO?" Inosuke repeated. "You threw yourself into fire? Sounds like a warrior's way!"
"I assure you it's far more elegant than that," McGonagall muttered.
Hermione leaned closer to Inosuke and whispered, "It's a form of magical travel. You step into a fireplace and speak the name of your destination. It's in all the books."
"I don't need books!" Inosuke grunted. "I learn by doing!"
"If I must, I shall leap into the flames myself and wrestle the travel magic into submission."
McGonagall gave him a tight smile. "Let's save that enthusiasm for your classes, shall we?"
"HAH! Very well, horned hag! Show me where this magical battlefield lies!"
Minerva narrowed her eyes, ignoring the 'horned hag' comment with the same stoic grace she used on misbehaving Gryffindors. "All of you—inside. It's time for the Sorting."
With a precise flick of her wand, the great oak doors groaned open, revealing the breathtaking expanse of the Hogwarts Entrance Hall. Lit by glowing sconces and flickering torches, the room buzzed with ancient energy. The high ceiling vanished into shadow, and every step on the polished stone echoed with the weight of generations.
The first-years gawked at the towering walls and the castle's grandeur, eyes wide with wonder.
Except Inosuke.
He stepped into the castle like a barbarian entering a rival kingdom.
"A mighty fortress indeed!" he bellowed, his voice echoing across the vast stone chamber. "I accept your challenge, Castle Bogwards!"
Hermione let out a soft groan behind him. "It's Hogwarts. Hogwarts. Not Bogwards…"
"I said what I said!" Inosuke shot back proudly.
Just then, a sudden gust of chilly air swept through the chamber—and with it, a procession of translucent figures gliding serenely through the walls.
The ghosts of Hogwarts had arrived.
"Oh!" Hermione gasped, clutching her book bag to her chest. "It's them! The house ghosts!"
Nearly Headless Nick floated forward with his customary flourish, his nearly-severed head flopping a bit to the side as he bowed courteously to the assembled students. "Welcome, first-years! Do not be alarmed—we are but humble echoes of the past. I'm Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington, resident ghost of Gryffindor Tower. A pleasure to make your acquaintance."
The Fat Friar waved cheerily. The Grey Lady glided silently behind, offering a rare nod. The Bloody Baron loomed silently at the back, his presence chilling even the air.
Inosuke stepped forward, squinting beneath his mask.
"Are these floating weaklings supposed to impress me?" he said loudly. "They have no legs and no flesh—just wind and shiny sadness."
Some students gasped in horror. Hermione's eyes widened. "Don't say that!"
Nick chuckled nervously. "He's certainly… spirited."
Before anyone could intervene, there was a sharp cackling noise from above.
BOINK!
A chalkboard eraser bounced off Inosuke's mask and poofed in a cloud of dust.
"What the—?!" Inosuke spun, growling.
"Wheeheehee!" came a shrill, gleeful voice. "What's this then? Shirtless war boy's here to fight ghosts with his pig face and twigs?"
Floating upside-down in midair was none other than Peeves the Poltergeist, grinning from ear to ear, a second eraser in hand.
McGonagall's face went pale. "Oh no…"
Peeves zipped past the first-years, laughing like a banshee. "Oi, look at him! Wears a dead pig's head and thinks he's royalty! Should we crown him King of the Lunatics?"
Inosuke's eye twitched beneath the mask.
"No one mocks the Mountain King and lives to tell the tale!"
He ripped the two metal rods from his back with a dramatic flourish and dropped into a combat stance, his voice booming like thunder.
"Beast Breathing, First Fang: Pierce!"
With terrifying speed, he launched forward and swung both rods in an X-formation, leaping up to strike Peeves directly in the chest.
The rods sliced through the air…
…and through Peeves.
The poltergeist flickered and phased, his cackle high-pitched and delighted.
Inosuke tumbled past him and landed in a perfect crouch—then stared at the place he'd struck.
"What?!"
'He dodged it? No—I went through him?!'
Peeves stuck out his tongue. "You can't hit a ghostie, Pig-Face! We're all mist and memories!"
Then he dumped an inkwell over Inosuke's head.
The boar-masked boy roared, stomping one foot into the ground with a boom.
"Beast Breathing, Third Fang: Devour!"
He swung again, this time wildly, wind rushing from the impact of each blow—but all of it harmlessly passed through the gleeful poltergeist.
Students scrambled to get out of the way.
Hermione dove behind a stone pillar.
Professor McGonagall had had enough.
"Peeves!" she barked.
The poltergeist froze mid-prank, caught in the act of trying to tie a student's shoelaces together midair.
"Oh no," Peeves muttered. "Not her…"
"Leave. Now. Before I fetch the Headmaster."
Peeves blew a raspberry and vanished with a pop of color and faint giggles.
The room fell silent again.
Inosuke panted, still in battle stance, the rods steaming slightly from the sheer force of his swings.
McGonagall stepped forward, her tone dry. "Now that we've gotten the ghost fighting out of your system…"
Inosuke straightened, proudly dusting off his chest. "I almost had him. Next time, I'll use my teeth."
"Please don't," she muttered, turning to lead the students toward the Great Hall. "You can't punch a poltergeist. They don't have corporeal forms."
"Then I'll punch the formless!"
Hermione stepped beside him again, clutching her robes tight. "You are the most exhausting person I've ever met."
"And you talk too much," he said cheerfully. "Now let's go get sorted so I can dominate this school."
She groaned, and the first-years followed McGonagall into the Great Hall—where another challenge awaited.