Chapter 331: The Houses
When the school song ended, Kael declared the feast concluded and instructed the students to leave in an orderly fashion.
With no upper years yet, the four Heads of House rose from the staff table and led their respective houses to their common rooms.
"Phoenix House, with me!"
"Thunderbird House, with me—up the stairs, quick as you like."
"Dragon House…"
"Basilisk House…"
One after another, the Heads' voices rose above the low hum of first-year chatter.
The other professors took their leave of Kael and Arwen and returned to their offices.
Lady Galadriel and Gandalf departed together; both resided in the dwellings built amid the gardens' mallorn.
Kael, meanwhile, walked with careful patience beside his wife along the narrow corridor toward the Tower of Amon Sûl.
That was Kael and Arwen's private domain, where only their closest—Galadriel, Gandalf, and a few others—would occasionally gather.
Arwen stroked the gentle curve of her stomach, her smile warm and bright. "With all these children here, the castle feels lively again, Kael. It's wonderful."
He steadied her with quiet care and shook his head. "If only these little scamps don't disturb your rest."
Arwen had been with child for nearly two years and would give birth in a little more than one. If not for her insistence, Kael would not have had her teach History of Magic at all; he worried that boisterous students might, even by accident, endanger her or the child.
"Of course they won't," she said. "I love hearing their laughter. And I believe they'll bring the castle a steady stream of life and joy."
She understood her husband's fears—and loved him all the more for them—yet could not help a small, helpless smile. Elven bodies were hardier than mortals'. Even with a child, she could move with ease and, if Orcs appeared, dispatch them without effort. Teaching History of Magic hardly taxed her at all.
But seeing how tenderly he guarded her, as if she were made of crystal, she'd agreed to let her grandmother, Galadriel, share in the teaching and keep her duties light.
—
Elsewhere, the four houses' first-years bobbed along behind their Heads like little ducklings.
Phoenix and Thunderbird both lodged in the upper levels, so they climbed through tiers of shifting staircases.
Phoenix House lay on the eighth floor. Its entrance was a portrait—an elf-maid of striking beauty named Nimrodel, a Silvan Elf.
Lothlórien's famed stream, the Nimrodel, bore her name; they said that beneath its falls one could still hear an elf-maid's song where Nimrodel once sang.
Her tale was a lovely, sorrowful one:
Nimrodel, a headstrong Silvan maid, loved Amroth, lord of Lothlórien, yet refused to wed him. She resented the coming of Sindar and Noldor into Lórien, believing they had brought war and unrest to that land.
She lived alone and spoke only the tongue of the Wood-elves, even after Sindarin became the common speech.
In the Third Age, when the Balrog woke beneath Moria, Nimrodel fled Lórien in distress, and Amroth followed.
Near Fangorn, she promised to wed him if he would lead her to a land of peace.
They set out for Edhellond on the Bay of Belfalas, but were separated crossing the White Mountains.
Amroth reached the haven, but winds tore his ship from shore. He leapt into the sea to seek Nimrodel and drowned, while she was never seen again.
Thus, Lórien lost its lord; in time, Celeborn and Galadriel were hailed as its Lord and Lady.
The portrait before them was Arwen's work. She had imbued it with crafted memories and shaped its personality to match the Nimrodel of elven song.
Under the first year's fascinated stares, the elf-maid in the frame asked for the password. When Professor Edward spoke, she bowed with graceful courtesy.
The hidden door swung open, and the first-years followed Edward into the Phoenix common room.
It was spacious and welcoming: a soft red carpet underfoot, deep gold-and-crimson armchairs scattered invitingly, phoenix motifs woven into the walls and ceiling.
A great hearth blazed, warming the room; a family of fire-lizards lived contentedly on the coals.
After Edward gave a brief introduction to Phoenix House and handed out timetables, he took his leave.
Well-fed and drowsy, the new students yawned their way toward the stairs to find their rooms.
By happy chance, Dúnedain boy Anlomire, elf child Aranil, and wizard Adam Bailey were placed in the same dormitory.
They chatted over the wonders of the day until even their sleepiness retreated a little.
…
So, too, in the other houses:
Thunderbird House possessed a tower of its own, the highest dormitories of any house. A Thunderbird-knocker guarded the door to the common room; it opened only when a question was answered correctly.
Within, the common room was robed in blue. The ceiling held a starry sky, and a grand floor-to-ceiling window looked out across Hogwarts, with a living mallorn bough twining beyond as natural ornament.
Dragon and Basilisk lie below ground
To reach Dragon House, one followed a long first-floor corridor to a stone dragon statue near the kitchens.
Curled upon itself in sleep, it looked lifelike though it was hewn from rock.
Tap its head with a wand in the rhythm of the name "Smaug," and the dragon stirred, drew aside, and revealed a gap in the wall behind.
Tap wrongly, and it would belch a gush of water, soaking you through.
Try to force your way in, and the statue attacked—fire from its maw, and a tail-swipe that could smash a trespasser into the wall.
Beyond the statue lay a downward stair, only wide enough for one at a time.
At the bottom was the common room, shaped like a dragon's den, cozy in hues of gold and black. A portrait of Smaug hung upon the wall.
In that portrait, Smaug was proud and pleased to serve as the house's emblem. He took the Dragon first-years under his protection and called them his "little wyrmlings."
Basilisk House lay deeper in the dungeons. One descended long flights to a circular stone door adorned with a silver serpent set with two emeralds.
The serpent seemed alive, tongue flickering with a soft hiss.
After saying the password, the door opened onto a common room of elegant luxury, featuring silver and green accents. Though underground, it did not feel cold; the constant hearth-fire filled the chamber with warmth.
The dormitories lay further below, almost beneath the Black Lake.
Beyond crystal windows, the water-world drifted by—shoals of fish gliding past, and now and then the vast shadow of the kraken itself.