Harry walked at a steady pace alongside Hermione, Susan, and Hannah. Amidst the sea of students pushing and tripping over each other on the platform, they spotted a guy over three meters tall shaking a massive lantern above everyone's heads.
"First years! First years over here!"
The group made their way toward the giant. Hagrid guided them straight onto a path that swallowed what little light was left. The trail was a total mess of rocks and roots. In the middle of that pitch-black darkness, it was practically impossible to take three steps without stumbling. To make matters worse, the Scottish cold cut right to the bone. Several kids were already walking with their arms wrapped around themselves, teeth chattering and cursing the weather.
Harry slipped his hand under his robes, searching the pockets of his leather jacket. From a hidden pouch, he pulled out a paper amulet covered in thick ink kanji. He held it firmly between his index and middle fingers, closed his eyes, and let out a low, almost drawn-out murmur.
"Hakuen no mamori, waga mi ni shitagae, kegare o harai, yami o shirizoke."
A clean, smokeless white flame devoured the paper in a second. But it didn't go out. The fire floated into the air and settled right behind Harry's back, following him like a silent guardian. Instantly, it released a comforting warmth that wrapped around the three girls.
Hagrid turned around for a second, narrowed his bushy eyes at the floating flame, and without saying a word, kept leading the march.
Hermione took a sharp breath, her eyes wide as saucers, ready to unleash another barrage of questions. Susan beat her to it with a chuckle, giving her a friendly elbow.
"He can teach you that later too, Hermione. Keep walking or you're gonna freeze."
They kept moving along the dark path until, suddenly, the thick brush cleared. The Black Lake stretched out before them, flat and silent like an obsidian mirror. Hagrid split them up into small boats, four per head. Hermione, Susan, and Hannah piled in with Harry. There were no oars, but as soon as the giant climbed into his own boat, the fleet began to move on its own, cutting through the water without a sound.
As they glided forward slowly, Harry looked up. And there it was. Hogwarts rose grandly over the cliff side. A colossal castle, with towers scratching the starry sky and hundreds of windows glowing in the night. Its reflection danced on the black water, as if the school were floating, trapped between two worlds.
As they drew closer, Harry's skin tingled. Feeling the magic of the place was like getting a small electric shock; it was wide awake, floating in the air with a vibrant density you could practically touch. Sure, it didn't have the sheer scale of the magic he preferred to use, but the castle felt fiercely alive. Looking at the silhouettes of the towers cut against the night, he replayed what he'd asked himself so many times in the quiet of his room.
'Why even bother coming?' he had told his grandparents more than once, standing in front of their portraits with his arms crossed. 'I already know tricks way better than theirs.' But his grandmother, with that calm smile only old paintings keep, changed his perspective. She didn't talk about rare spells or power; she talked about how much fun she had in Hufflepuff just wasting time by the fire, about real friends who never leave you behind, and how she ended up running into his grandfather in those very corridors. 'Think about it, Harry,' she had told him, leaning toward the edge of the frame. 'Being the strongest wizard doesn't do you any good if you have no one to share it with at the end of the day.'
Because of that, and only because of that, he hadn't bothered to learn more than three wand spells. He wanted to see if it was true. He wanted to experience it himself.
The boats bumped gently against the cliff side and slid through a hidden crack beneath the rock. The darkness of the tunnel swallowed them completely, erasing the stars. Only Harry's white flame kept floating, bathing the boat in its mystical light. Reaching the underground dock, Harry stepped off first and offered his hand to Susan, Hermione, and Hannah to help them disembark. Together, they climbed the carved stone stairs until they reached the castle's oak doors.
Minerva McGonagall was waiting for them there. Her posture was severe, straight as an arrow, and her eyes scanned the group, taking in every detail. Her gaze lingered for a moment on Harry's robes, moving up to the silver earring shaped like the Deathly Hallows glinting on his ear. Then, it dropped to the white flame floating beside him. There was a barely noticeable blink in her eyes, a spark of surprise she instantly choked back behind her usual mask of sternness. But she said absolutely nothing about the amulet.
"Follow me," she instructed, and the heavy doors swung open.
The crowd of first years followed Professor McGonagall through an entrance hall so massive Harry could swear his aunt's entire house could fit in one corner. The stone walls were lit by crackling torches, and the ceiling was lost in the heights, hidden by shadows. The echo of hundreds of muffled voices drifted from a large double door to the right; the feast was already set, but they still had to wait.
Just as they crossed the threshold into the small adjoining room, entering the antechamber, the white flame following Harry flickered. The fire extinguished without a sound, leaving only a faint scent of sandalwood in the air. Harry didn't even blink; it had already done its job of warming the path.
The professor guided them toward the center of the room, leaving them all packed tightly, shoulder to shoulder.
"Welcome to Hogwarts," Professor McGonagall said, locking her severe gaze onto the group. "The start-of-term feast will celebrate your arrival shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you must be sorted into your respective houses..."
She briefly explained the rules: Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. She mentioned house points, the cups, and the behavior expected of them. Her eyes crossed with Harry's again for a second, glancing sideways for the fire that had escorted him along the trail. Realizing it was gone, McGonagall pressed her lips tightly, turned around, and said before leaving:
"I shall return when everything is ready. Please wait quietly."
The second the door closed, the tension in the room skyrocketed. Several kids started whispering, pale with fright, wondering how on earth they were going to be tested.
"How do you think they'll test us?" Hannah Abbott whispered, nervously fixing her blonde braids. "My cousin told me we have to fight a troll."
"That's ridiculous," Hermione shot back immediately, though her voice pitched a little high. "They wouldn't make us do something like that on the first day. It must be a written exam or a test on basic spells. I know twenty-four charms by heart, but what if they ask for a second-year one? Harry, what do you think?"
Harry didn't even get time to answer.
An arrogant throat-clearing cut right through the girls' murmuring. Draco Malfoy pushed his way through the crowd, shoving a couple of kids aside with ease, flanked by his two shadows, Crabbe and Goyle. The blonde completely ignored Hermione and the others; his platinum eyes were locked onto Harry's robes, moving up instantly to the silver triangle-and-circle earring hanging from his right ear, and finally down to the raven ring on his finger.
"So it's true what they were saying on the train," Malfoy drew out, dragging his words with that aristocratic cadence his father had taught him. "Harry Potter has come to Hogwarts. Though you prefer to be called Peverell, don't you? A very ancient name... shame you're hanging around with such low company."
Draco swept his eyes over Hermione and then looked back, where the scruffy redhead from the train was trying to spy on the conversation.
"My father told me about the Peverells. If you're going to claim that lineage, you ought to know some wizarding families are much better than others. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort." Malfoy extended his hand, a smug smirk plastering his face. "I can help you with that."
Harry looked at Draco's hand. Then he looked up into his eyes.
"I think I can tell the wrong sort for myself, Malfoy. Thanks," Harry answered with a chilly calm that sliced right through the air.
Draco's hand hung suspended for a second. His cheeks flushed a furious pink from the rejection. Just as he was about to spit a venomous retort, a loud and pretty obnoxious voice cut right into the middle of it.
"Hey, you!" Ron Weasley stepped forward, completely ignoring the tense atmosphere. His robes were unevenly buttoned and the dirt smudge was still intact on his nose. "Are you really Potter? Why are you dressed like that?" he said, remembering the clothes he'd seen Harry in on the train. "You look like a muggle my dad investigates. And that Peverell stuff sounds made up. Everyone knows you're a Potter. You should come with Gryffindor, my family says Slytherins are all dark wizards and Hufflepuffs are just stupid."
Susan Bones knit her brows, glaring daggers at Ron, and Hannah shrank back, offended. Harry didn't even fully turn to look at him; he just gave him a sidelong glance that could have frozen the Black Lake solid.
"Weasley, right?" Harry said, his voice carrying absolute boredom. "Your friend the Boy Who Lived isn't here. I suggest you go look for him."
Before Ron could snap back with something stupid, several kids shrieked.
From the ceiling of the antechamber, misty, translucent white figures drifted through. The Hogwarts ghosts had made their entrance, floating over the students' heads while arguing about Peeves and the feast. The Fat Friar, a plump and cheerful ghost, smiled down at the first years.
"Ah, new students!" the Friar said. "Hope to see you in Hufflepuff! My old house, you know."
Detecting the spiritual energy of the specters, Harry released a slight pulse of his mana to test the room. The ghosts instantly felt the sudden magical pressure in the air and floated back toward the opposite wall, looking at the boy in the robes with a mix of caution and ancient respect.
Professor McGonagall marched back in at that exact moment, causing the ghosts to vanish right through the walls.
"Move along," she ordered firmly. "The Great Hall awaits you."
The double oak doors swung wide open. Harry walked out front next to Hermione, Susan, and Hannah, leaving behind a furious Malfoy and a completely bewildered Weasley.
Stepping across the threshold, the Great Hall unfolded before them in all its glory. Four long tables were packed with older students watching them with curiosity, underneath the golden glow of thousands of candles floating in midair without any support. At the back, the staff table stood out solemnly, and right in the center, Albus Dumbledore watched them behind his half-moon spectacles. His gaze tried to see right through Harry; the boy had vanished from Privet Drive a while ago, and the photos he'd received from his spy looked nothing like this. The lad was taller than his peers, showed no signs of malnutrition, and walked with absolute self-assurance.
"It's a spell!" Hermione whispered into Harry's ear, unable to contain her excitement as they walked down the center aisle. "The ceiling is bewitched to look like the sky outside. I read about it in Hogwarts: A History. It looks exactly like the night sky, with all the stars and clouds, though I swear the storm you called up a while ago can still be seen around the edges."
Harry looked up at the starry ceiling and then locked his green eyes onto the stool waiting for them at the front, where an old, patched hat sat waiting.