The banquet ended in a symphony of scraping chairs and rising chatter. As Shya and Talora stood up from the Ravenclaw table, the weight of the long, momentous day settled over them like a heavy, wonderful cloak. Talora's hand found Shya's instantly, their grip a familiar, steadying anchor.
Shya glanced down and did a double-take. "Look," she said, holding out her cuff.
The subtle silver embroidery on their Gladrags uniforms, which had been a neutral silver during the feast, was now shimmering, cycling softly through shades of sky blue and antique bronze. Even their ties had deepened to a raven-feather blue with elegant, barely-there bronze stripes.
Talora grinned, her tired eyes lighting up. "Now that's a good charm. Classy. I was worried we'd have to wear those tacky bronze and blue scarves everyone has."
A prefect with long, dark hair and a serious, kind face stepped forward. "Ravenclaw first years! I'm Penelope Clearwater. Girls, with me. Robert will take the boys. Follow closely, please."
They fell into step behind her, a small flock of new eagles. The castle's grandeur was even more apparent now that they were moving through it. Shya's sharp eyes tracked their path, noting the turns and landmarks like a strategist learning new terrain, while Talora gazed in open-mouthed wonder at every new sight.
"Wow," Talora breathed, her head on a swivel. "Look at that tapestry! The threads are moving."
She squeezed Shya's hand, her own eyes catching on a painting of a forest where the leaves rustled in a silent wind. "It's incredible," Shya murmured, the analytical part of her mind whirring. She leaned closer to Talora, her voice dropping to a whisper. "The composition is flawless. The way the light falls in that corridor… I could never get it right with charcoal."
It was their secret language. To the world, Shya was just observant. Only Talora knew she was filing everything away, the artist in her already itching for the privacy of her sketchbook.
They reached a wide marble staircase when, with a great groaning of stone, it began to swing slowly to the right.
"Merlin's beard," Penelope said with a patient smile, seeing their startled faces. "You'll get used to it. The staircases have a mind of their own. Always give yourself extra time to get to class."
"What if it decides it doesn't like you?" Talora muttered to Shya as they hurried to keep up. "What if it just dumps you into a suit of armor one day?"
"Then I guess you'd be the new 'Knight in Shining Armor'," Shya shot back without missing a beat, a completely straight face. "Very chivalrous. Very Gryffindor of you."
Talora snorted, quickly covering her mouth. They were the only ones who found their own jokes that funny, and they liked it that way. They could joke about anything, even the things they probably shouldn't, because they were each other's safe space.
Finally, they arrived at the end of a long corridor. Before them stood a magnificent door of dark, polished wood, devoid of a knob or keyhole. Instead, a bronze knocker in the shape of a majestic eagle was mounted at its center. As they approached, the eagle's beak opened, and a soft, melodic voice rang out.
*"I speak all languages, yet have no lungs or tongue. I am born of wisdom, but can make the wise look young. What am I?"*
The group of first-years stared, bewildered. A few people mumbled guesses. "A book?" someone ventured. The eagle remained silent.
Shya's brow was furrowed in concentration. "It speaks languages… but has no voice. It's born of wisdom…" Her eyes lit up. "It's the answer! The answer to a riddle!"
The eagle knocker seemed to smile. "A logically sound deduction. But not the answer I seek."
Talora tapped a finger on her chin, thinking. "It makes the wise look young… because learning keeps you young at heart! It's an answer!"
The eagle remained still for a second. Then, it spoke. "Adequate." With a soft *click*, the door swung inwards.
Penelope grinned at Talora. "Well done! The door never asks the same riddle twice, so always be on your toes."
They stepped through, and any remaining breath was stolen from their lungs.
The Ravenclaw common room was circular, with airy, arched windows that reached from the floor to the domed ceiling, which was painted with constellations that twinkled gently. The room was bathed in a soft, blue-tinged light. Bookshelves lined the curved walls, not in a messy, chaotic way, but like a beautiful, organized library. Plush blue and bronze rugs were scattered across the floor, and elegant tables and chairs were arranged in cozy clusters. A beautiful white marble statue of Rowena Ravenclaw stood on a dais, her stone eyes seeming to hold ancient secrets.
"Oh, Shya," Talora whispered, her voice full of awe. "It's so… pretty."
"It's perfect," Shya breathed, her gaze sweeping over the room, from the starry ceiling to the shelves full of books. "It's like a library and an art gallery had a baby."
They weren't the only ones impressed. The other first-years were staring around with similar expressions of wonder.
A familiar, squeaky voice piped up. "Welcome! Welcome, my new eagles!"
They turned to see Professor Flitwick standing on a footstool by the fireplace, beaming at them all.
"Congratulations on your Sorting! You have been chosen for this house because you value wit, learning, and wisdom. Here in Ravenclaw, we prize curiosity above all else. There is no question too strange, no idea too outlandish to be explored within these walls." His eyes twinkled. "The door without a password is your first lesson. Wisdom is not about knowing all the answers, but about enjoying the challenge of finding them. Never be afraid to be wrong. Be afraid of never trying to find out."
He went on, explaining the basic rules and the importance of house points. "Your prefects, Robert and Penelope, are here to help you. Now, I believe it is time for you to find your beds. You must be exhausted."
Penelope took over. "Right! Girls' dormitories are up the left staircase, boys up the right. Your trunks have already been brought up. The rooms are arranged in pairs for first and second years."
The two girls exchanged a look of sheer, naked anxiety. This was it.
They followed Penelope and the other girls up a spiral staircase. She stopped at the first door. "Patil, Padma, you're in here with Brocklehurst, Mandy." The two girls disappeared inside.
She moved down the hall. Shya's heart felt like it was trying to escape her chest. Penelope stopped at the next door.
"Gill, Shya," she read, and Talora's stomach plummeted. Then she finished, "and Livanthos, Talora."
The relief was so intense that Shya nearly sagged against the wall. Talora let out a happy little squeak and grabbed her friend's arm.
They pushed the door open and stepped into their new home. It was a small, circular room with two four-poster beds hung with blue silk curtains. Their polished school trunks sat at the foot of each bed. A window between them looked out over the dark grounds and the starry sky, the same magnificent view as from the common room below.
The door clicked shut, and they were finally, completely alone. The events of the day—the train, the Sorting, the feast, the tower—crashed over them. They looked at each other, their impeccable uniforms finally looking a little rumpled, their hair escaping its neat styles.
Shya's face broke into a tired, brilliant, unguarded smile. "We made it, Bob."
Talora grinned back, throwing herself onto her new bed. "We're really here. We're witches, we're Ravenclaws, and we're roommates."
Shya sat on her own bed, facing her, and kicked off her shoes, the soft chime of her gold anklet a familiar, comforting sound in the quiet room. "And tomorrow," she said, her eyes sparkling with a mix of exhaustion and excitement, "the real magic begins."
Outside their tower window, the stars over Hogwarts shone a little brighter, welcoming them home.