The train screeched to a final halt at the tiny, lamplit platform of Hogsmeade station. The air was cold and smelled of pine and damp earth. A giant of a man, holding a lantern, bellowed over the crowd, "Firs' years! Firs' years over here!"
Shya and Talora moved as one, their dark Gladrags blazers making them stand out. As they followed the giant man—"Hagrid," someone whispered—down a steep, narrow path, they felt eyes on them. A boy with messy black hair and glasses was staring, along with a lanky boy with bright red hair. They paid them no mind, their focus on the path ahead.
Then Shya's gaze snagged on two familiar, still figures waiting near the shore of a vast, black lake. Cassian Black and Roman Nott stood slightly apart from the chattering crowd. Cassian's eyes met hers, and he gave that same slow, deliberate nod.
"Look," Shya murmured, nudging Talora.
Talora spotted Roman, who offered her a small, genuine smile. "Come on," she said, and they navigated the throng of first-years until they were standing near the boys.
"Fancy meeting you here," Talora said lightly.
"Seems we all found the right platform," Roman replied with an easy smile.
Cassian's gaze flicked to their uniforms. "You managed the change on the train."
"Had to be prepared," Shya said with a shrug, though a flicker of pride showed in her eyes.
Hagrid boomed, "Four to a boat!" and gestured to a fleet of little wooden vessels.
The four of them moved smoothly into the same boat. As the fleet began to glide silently across the glassy black water, the castle came into view. Turrets and towers rose against the starry sky, windows glittering with light.
"Wow," Talora breathed, all pretence of coolness gone.
"It's bigger than the pictures," Shya admitted, her artist's eye tracing the magnificent silhouette.
"Wait until you see it in daylight," Roman said. "The moving staircases are supposed to be maddening."
"Better than a boring old elevator," Shya countered.
"I heard there's a giant squid in the lake," Talora said, peering over the edge into the dark water.
"Hopefully it likes first-years," Roman joked.
Cassian, who had been quietly observing the castle, finally spoke. "The wards are... substantial." He said it with a sort of professional appreciation, like a jeweler assessing a fine gem.
As they climbed out, the four of them fell into step together, following Hagrid up the stone steps. They stood huddled on the steps, a mass of nervous excitement. The chatter was a constant, buzzing hum around them.
"How do you think they Sort us?"
"I hope I'm in Gryffindor!"
"My mum was in Hufflepuff…"
The massive oak door swung open suddenly, and the buzz cut off instantly. A tall, severe-looking witch with emerald-green robes and a stern expression stood there, her gaze sweeping over them like a hawk.
"The firs' years, Professor McGonagall," Hagrid announced.
"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here." Her voice was crisp and carried easily over the silent crowd.
She led them into the vast Entrance Hall, so big you could have fit their entire London house inside. Torches flickered on the stone walls, and a magnificent marble staircase faced them.
"Welcome to Hogwarts," Professor McGonagall began. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you can take your seats, you must be Sorted into your houses. They are Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin."
A wave of whispers swept through the group. Shya and Talora shared a look. This was it.
"While you are here, your house will be like your family. Your triumphs will earn you points, any rule-breaking will lose them. The house with the most points at the end of the year will be awarded the House Cup."
She looked them over, her expression unyielding. "The Sorting Ceremony will begin momentarily. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting." Her eyes seemed to linger for a fraction of a second on their already impeccable uniforms before she turned and disappeared through a set of large double doors.
The moment she was gone, the chatter erupted again, louder and more anxious.
"Well," Talora said, turning to the group. "No smartening up needed here, Bob."
"None at all, Bob," Shya agreed, her voice low and steady. She adjusted the heavy gold bangle on her wrist, a gesture of grounding. Her eyes, however, flickered across the crowd, landing on Cassian and Roman, who stood with a similar, unnerving stillness amidst the chaos. Cassian met her look, his grey eyes unreadable.