When the train, shrouded in billows of steam, came to a halt at the Hogsmeade platform, they stepped out together into the cool night air.
— First years! Over here! Everyone to me! — Hagrid's thunderous voice rang out over the crowd. The giant held a glowing lantern high, but his gaze constantly darted across the faces of the exiting students. He was clearly looking for Harry, who had yet to appear.
— Well, Adele, this is Hogwarts in all its glory. Shall we? — Victor was already about to step toward the carriages.
— Victor, wait, — Hermione interjected. — Isn't Adele a first year? She can't come with us.
— Eh? Ah, right, exactly, — he caught himself and looked at his sister. — Well, honey, it looks like we have to part ways for a little bit. You need to go over to that big guy.
He pointed toward Hagrid, but Adele didn't even budge. She continued to hold his hand with a death grip, looking at the crowd of unfamiliar children with ill-concealed apprehension.
Victor gave a tired sigh and exchanged looks with Daphne and Hermione.
— Fine, go on without me. I'll see you in the Great Hall.
And without waiting for an answer, he and Adele headed straight for the giant.
When the stream of students dried up, Hagrid began counting the first years. Noticing there was one child more than there should be, he frowned and started counting again, peering intently at every face. Seeing the tall Victor among the crowd of little ones, he froze:
— Victor? What are you doing here? The first years gather here, but you're supposed to take a carriage to the castle.
— I know, Hagrid, — Victor replied nonchalantly. — I just decided to walk the path of the founders one more time. Nostalgia, you see.
— Ah, well... alright, — Hagrid scratched his beard, clearly confused. — By the way, have you seen Harry? I don't think he ever got off the train.
— I think he'll be a little late, — Victor evaded the direct question. — But don't worry, he's fine. He'll show up soon.
— I hope so... Well, since everyone's gathered—follow me! And be careful, watch your step!
They followed Hagrid's massive silhouette. This year, Victor decided not to spoil the canonical ritual, so shouts and the sounds of first years stumbling in the dark were heard from all sides.
Reaching the water's edge, Victor held a boat with his foot to keep it from rocking and helped Adele climb inside. At that moment, he noticed another girl, frozen in hesitation on the shore. He reached out a hand to her.
— Thank you, — she responded in a gentle, almost misty voice, accepting the help.
When Victor looked at her, he involuntarily froze. Her blonde hair silvered in the moonlight, and her face seemed remarkably calm and thoughtful. He recognized her instantly—Luna Lovegood. That same "strange" girl who sees the world differently than everyone else.
Victor climbed into the boat, still unable to take his eyes off her. Suddenly, he felt the vessel tremble slightly. Turning around, he met Adele's icy gaze. In the night darkness, it seemed to him for a moment that her pupils had dilated, turning her eyes into bottomless black vortices swallowing the light.
He gently took her hand. Adele flinched and shifted her gaze to her brother. Victor gave a faint smile and a slight tilt of his head, calling for calm.
The darkness in Adele's eyes dissipated. She turned to the stranger:
— Adele, — she introduced herself curtly.
Luna smiled softly in return:
— Luna Lovegood. It's a pleasure to meet you.
— Stay away from my brother, — Adele said without a hint of warmth.
— Why? — Luna asked in her usual singsong voice, not at all bothered.
— Because he liked you, — the sister snapped.
Victor frowned and looked at Luna. He shook his head: was he interested in her? Yes, but "liked" was an exaggeration.
— And what of it? — Luna inquired, just as serenely.
Adele scowled, clearly not expecting such a calm rebuttal. Victor hurried to intervene:
— Don't listen to my sister, she's a bit tired from the journey. Allow me to introduce myself—Victor Moss, second year.
— A pleasure, — Luna nodded.
Adele shot her brother a dark, jealous look.
— Now, don't look at me like that, — he smirked, patting her head. — Better look at the castle. This is the best view of Hogwarts.
The boats tapped gently against the underground pier, and the children climbed the steps to the huge oak doors. When they swung open, the first years froze in awe. The Entrance Hall was so vast that an entire house could have fit inside. The stone walls were lit by flaming torches, the ceiling was lost in deep shadow, and a majestic marble staircase led to the upper floors, promising a world full of magic.
Hagrid turned to the hushed children:
— Right, stay here. One of the professors will come out and instruct you before we begin.
Victor leaned down to Adele and whispered:
— Adele, we'll have to part for a couple of minutes. Professor McGonagall will be here soon to take you to the Sorting. I'd better find a seat in the Hall quickly, or I risk running into her very stern gaze.
Before he could finish his sentence, the giant doors at the top of the stairs burst open. In the halo of light appeared a tall witch in emerald robes with her hair in a tight bun.
— Hagrid, have the first years wait a few minutes, stay with them... — she stopped, noticing a familiar figure. Her eyebrows shot up. — Mr. Moss?
— Dammit, didn't make it, — Victor muttered under his breath, shaking his head.
— You didn't make it, Mr. Moss, — McGonagall repeated, her voice echoing through the hall. — But perhaps this is even convenient. Since you are here, watch the first years while we deal with the problems of two restless lion cubs.
She had originally intended to leave Hagrid, but the giant looked far too lost among the crowd of children, and a confident Victor was an excellent choice. The Professor shot him a piercing look, turned, and vanished rapidly behind the doors, her robes billowing at the turn.
Hagrid exhaled in relief and looked at Victor.
— Well, I'll head into the Hall then. Good luck, Victor!
Left alone with the crowd of hushed children, Victor sighed heavily and swept them with a bored gaze.
— Magnificent. They just went and dumped you on me, — he smirked, shoving his hands into his robe pockets. — Well then, since I'm stuck here, let's get acquainted. But not with everyone. Now, those who are certain they will get into Slytherin, take a step forward and line up.
Adele stepped out first, standing right in front of her brother with a deadpan expression.
— Clever girl, — he nodded to her, then addressed the crowd again: — Is that all? No one else?
— And what makes you think we'll cater to your whims? — a girl with fine features stepped out of the crowd. She tossed her hair over her shoulder disdainfully and measured Victor with a contemptuous look. — Who do you think you are to command us?
Victor smiled slowly, examining her.
— Who I think I am, I know perfectly well. But who are you?
— Hmph. My name is Astoria Greengrass, — she straightened up proudly. — I am a representative of the Ancient House of Greengrass.
— Ahhh, so you're Daphney's little sister, — Victor drawled, narrowing his eyes.
— Since she started catering to mudbloods, she is no longer my sister! — Astoria spat.
— Such a sharp tongue for such a pretty face, — a steely note crept into Victor's voice. — I think I know how to fix that.
In that same second, Astoria felt her body encased in an invisible shell. She tried to move even a finger, but her muscles wouldn't obey. The air around her seemed to thicken. Victor smoothly, almost lazily, pulled out his wand and touched the tip of it to the girl's chin, forcing her to look directly into his eyes.
— You know, Astoria... if I just cut out your tongue, you'd be left as just a lovely, silent girl. The world would be a little bit quieter, don't you think?
Astoria began to tremble. Her eyes were wide with terror. She tried desperately to find support in the crowd, but the other first years stood frozen, afraid even to breathe.
The second-long pause felt like an eternity. Then Victor suddenly smiled—softly and almost friendlily this time—and tucked his wand back into his sleeve. The spell broke, and the girl nearly fell, staggering.
— But you're lucky. I'm in a good mood today, and I've decided to renounce violence.
The smile vanished instantly from Victor's face. He swept the crowd with an icy gaze, letting his aura—heavy and oppressive—smother the hall. The air seemed to grow cold.
— I repeat for the deaf. Those of you who think you'll get into Slytherin, step forward.
The first years flinched. Under this invisible weight, six more kids timidly stepped forward, lining up next to Adele and a still-pale Astoria. As soon as they were frozen in formation, Victor withdrew his pressure and broke into a friendly smile again.
— There we go, well done. See? Not scary at all.
He began a slow walk-around, peering into each face.
— Good... Passable... Scrawny... — he muttered, until he stopped in front of a boy who was nearly his own height. Through the robes, a powerful, heavy build was evident. Victor frowned and stepped in close. The boy didn't even blink.
— You have the look of a maniac who starts every morning with a murder. Should I be afraid of you?
— No, — the boy replied calmly.
— "No" as in don't be afraid? Or "no" as in not a maniac?
The boy looked Victor straight in the eyes without looking away:
— No, not a maniac.
— And what's your name?
— William Brown, — came the level reply.
— Alright, William, I'll remember you.
Victor returned to the center and surveyed the future Slytherins.
— Right, everything suits me. Now listen carefully and remember. My name is Victor Moss. In Slytherin, I will be both mother and father to you. — He paused his gaze on Astoria for a second. — I can forgive a lot. But I do not wish to hear words like "mudblood" or any other blood-based insults from your mouths again. And that goes for everyone—not just the future snakes, but every one of you. Believe me, if I am angered, I don't care which house I have to punish.
He clapped his hands, the sound echoing under the high vaults.
— Well then, that's settled, and since Professor McGonagall is running late, I'll start in her place so as not to waste precious time.
Victor straightened up, and his voice took on solemn, deep tones:
— Welcome to Hogwarts! The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats, you will be sorted into your houses. This is a serious procedure. While you are here, your house will be like your family. You will study together, sleep in the same dormitory, and spend free time in your common room.
He paused briefly, surveying them all.
— There are four houses: Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and my own Slytherin. Each has a great history and great graduates. Your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rule-breaking will lose them. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the House Cup. This is a great honor. I hope each of you will become a worthy student, no matter where you end up. Now—straighten yourselves up and gather your thoughts.
— Very well said, Mr. Moss. I have nothing to add.
Victor turned. Professor McGonagall was standing in the doorway of the Great Hall, and for a moment, something like approval flickered in her stern gaze.
— You have a few minutes, then I will lead you into the Hall.
While the first years hurriedly straightened their robes and smoothed their hair, Professor McGonagall approached Victor. She cast an observant eye over the quiet crowd and looked at the boy again.
— I am sincerely glad to see that everyone here is in one piece, — she remarked dryly. — I must admit, the moment the door closed behind me, I realized what a mistake I'd made leaving them in your care.
Victor placed a hand over his heart, feigning deep offense.
— Professor, I am extremely hurt that you have such a poor opinion of me.
— I only judge by your first year.
— Oh, I am far from the daredevil I was then, — Victor countered with a perfectly serious face. — I have embarked on the path of pacifism. I now sincerely believe that any problem in this world can be solved civilizedly: through threats and intimidation.
McGonagall fell silent for a moment, processing what she'd heard.
— I'm afraid that doesn't clear your name much, — she finally said.
— I don't expect to be called a saint, — Victor shrugged, his gaze becoming serious for a second. — I've made enough mistakes. I'll simply try not to repeat them.
The Professor looked him intently in the eyes. She nodded slowly.
— Well then... in that case, I wish you luck.
— Thank you, Professor.
McGonagall turned to the hushed children and waved her hand, inviting them to follow.
— First years, line up! Follow me.