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"Ravenclaw!" The Sorting Hat's voice echoed through the hall, and a wave of applause erupted from the Ravenclaw table. Aiden removed the hat and made his way towards his new house, feeling a curious mixture of relief and anticipation.
As he reached the table, a beautiful girl with sleek dark hair extended her hand. "Hello, I'm Penelope Clearwater. Your eyes are very special," she said, her gaze lingering on his heterochromatic irises.
"Thank you, Aiden Prewett," he replied, shaking her hand with a polite smile.
"I didn't expect you to be a Hatstall. You were up there for ages! What does it feel like to have the Hat take so long to decide?" Penelope asked, her tone genuinely interested.
A few other Ravenclaw first-years leaned in, eager to hear his answer.
Aiden grinned. "The Hat told me I'd do well in any of the three houses, but in the end, I chose to follow my heart. Ravenclaw just felt right."
Penelope nodded approvingly. "A wise choice. Ravenclaw is the best house, after all."
The Sorting Ceremony finally drew to a close. As the last student was sorted, Aiden felt a strange resonance—a gentle pulse of magic that seemed to connect him to the very stones of the castle.
System.
Ding. Yes, as the host suspects, this is the result of an ancient ritual. By replaying the Sorting year after year, Hogwarts has built up a powerful protective magic. The entire castle is nearly sentient.
So, harming students here is basically impossible? Aiden marvelled.
Ding. Any act that endangers students will trigger a fierce response from the castle itself. The attack will flow from the collective unconscious and manifest in the real world. At its strongest, it could rival a Sequence Three's power.
Aiden's eyes widened slightly. No wonder even Voldemort never managed to conquer Hogwarts. But how did he kill Myrtle as a student?
Ding. Multiple factors. First, Voldemort was himself a student, so the castle's protections applied to him as well. Second, he obtained some management authority from Slytherin. Third, the basilisk acted as the agent, absorbing most of the backlash.
I see.
Before Aiden could ponder further, Dumbledore rose from his seat and addressed the hall.
"Welcome to Hogwarts! Welcome to a new school year! Before we begin our feast, I would like to say a few words. Here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you."
With a wave of his hand, the tables filled with food—roast beef, chicken, pork, lamb, sausages, bacon, steak, boiled tomatoes, roast sweet potatoes, French fries, Yorkshire puddings, pears, carrot soup, ketchup, and mint humbugs.
Penelope leaned over and whispered, "He does seem a bit mad, doesn't he?"
Aiden chuckled. "A little madness is good for the soul."
He turned his attention to the feast, filling his plate and savoring every bite. Around him, the other students did the same, laughter and chatter echoing off the enchanted ceiling.
Suddenly, the ghosts swept in, their presence sending a chill through the hall. Nearly Headless Nick was performing his infamous head-separation trick at the Gryffindor table, while the Grey Lady, Ravenclaw's own ghost, floated silently to their end of the hall. She observed the new students with an inscrutable expression.
"This is Ms. Grey," Penelope whispered.
"Good evening, Ms. Grey," Aiden said politely.
The Grey Lady glanced at him, her eyes lingering for a moment before she turned and drifted away.
"Did I offend her?" Aiden asked, puzzled.
Penelope shrugged. "She's always like that. Don't take it personally."
After the meal, Dumbledore stood once more. "Now that everyone has eaten, a few start-of-term notices: The Forbidden Forest is strictly off-limits to all students. Our caretaker, Mr Filch, wishes me to remind you that magic is not permitted in the corridors between classes. Quidditch tryouts will be held in the second week; those interested should see Madam Hooch. And finally, anyone who does not wish to die a most painful death would do well to avoid the third-floor corridor on the right this year!"
Aiden raised an eyebrow. Subtle as ever, Professor.
"Now, let us sing the school song together!" Dumbledore declared.
The resulting chorus was, in Aiden's opinion, nothing short of torture. He hummed along, doing his best to ignore the cacophony. Dumbledore, however, seemed deeply moved by the performance.
When the song finally ended, the prefects led the students from the hall. Eleanor Hawthorne, the Ravenclaw prefect, gathered the first-years.
"Follow me, please. We're heading up to the fifth floor," she announced, leading them through winding corridors and up endless staircases. At last, they arrived at a polished wooden door with a great bronze knocker shaped like an eagle's head.
"This is the entrance to our common room," Eleanor explained. "Unlike the other houses, we don't use a password. The eagle will ask a question. Anyone who answers correctly may enter. If you can't answer, you'll have to wait for someone who can."
She smiled. "It's a Ravenclaw tradition. Ms. Rowena Ravenclaw believed that wisdom should be shared. Now, who would like to try?"
The group hesitated, but Aiden stepped forward.
The eagle knocker's eyes gleamed. "What is the most precious thing, but also the most frightening to possess?"
Aiden thought for a moment. "Life."
The knocker nodded. "A thoughtful answer. Enter."
Aiden blinked. So there's no single right answer, he mused, stepping into the common room.
The Ravenclaw common room was breathtaking. The ceiling arched high above, inlaid with twinkling stars. The walls were draped with deep blue silk embroidered with golden runes, casting a soft, mysterious glow. Bookshelves lined the walls, packed with tomes on every magical subject imaginable. Plush armchairs sat by the windows, which offered a sweeping view of the Hogwarts grounds.
Eleanor addressed the group. "You're free to borrow any book, but please take care and return them promptly. Remember what Rowena Ravenclaw said: 'Wit beyond measure is man's greatest treasure.' We are ravens, ever thirsty for knowledge."
She smiled. "Your luggage has been delivered to your dormitories by the house-elves. I wish you all a happy and successful year."
Aiden made his way to the boys' dormitory, where three other students were already unpacking.
He paused at the door, taking in the scene. He recognized their names at once but decided to introduce himself properly.
"Hello, I'm Aiden Prewett."
The boy sitting on the bed looked up. "Edmund Lestrange. I know you—you're the Hatstall."
"Ethan Beckett," said a tall, fair-haired boy, offering a handshake. "Nice to meet you."
"Oliver Graves," said the last, a quiet boy with dark eyes.
Aiden turned to Edmund. "Lestrange? As in the Lestrange family?"
Edmund shrugged. "My father was expelled for opposing them. After the war, we became the last branch left."
Aiden nodded, then added, "I'm the last heir of the Prewett family."
Edmund raised an eyebrow. "Another Sacred Twenty-Eight, then."
Ethan spoke up. "My dad's a Muggle, my mum's a witch. When I got my letter, Dad nearly fainted."
Oliver smiled shyly. "I'm Muggle-born. Neither of my parents is magical."
The four boys exchanged a few more words, sharing stories of their families and their journeys to Hogwarts. Aiden felt a sense of camaraderie forming—a bond that would, he suspected, grow stronger over the coming years.
As the night deepened, Aiden unpacked his things, placing his books on the shelf above his bed and setting Lada's basket by the window. The spotted cat curled up instantly, purring contentedly.
Aiden sat on his bed, gazing out at the moonlit grounds. The castle's ancient magic hummed softly in the walls, and he felt the weight of centuries pressing gently on his shoulders. Yet, rather than feeling burdened, he felt inspired.
He closed his eyes and reached out with his senses, touching the currents of magic that flowed through Hogwarts. The castle seemed to welcome him, its wards and protections recognizing him as one of its own.
System, what do you think?
Ding. Host has entered a place of deep magical resonance. Hogwarts is a unique node within the world's magical network, and its protection is unparalleled. The host is advised to act with caution and respect.
Aiden smiled. Don't worry. I have no intention of causing trouble—at least, not yet.
He lay back, listening to the quiet breathing of his roommates and the distant sounds of the castle settling for the night.
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