Hagrid's enormous figure came striding over the platform, his great boots thudding against the ground as he hurried toward Professor McGonagall. He bent down at once, looking both ashamed and anxious, his tangled beard shifting as he mumbled an apology. "Sorry, Professor McGonagall. Got held up a bit."
"Hagrid, where have you been?" Professor McGonagall demanded, her eyes narrowing behind her square spectacles. A moment later, she caught the strong smell of drink clinging to him, and her expression sharpened into something far more dangerous. "You went drinking? Today, of all days, when the new students are arriving?"
"Well, that is…" Hagrid straightened, then immediately seemed to shrink again under her stare. He was so large that he towered over nearly everyone on the platform, yet in front of Professor McGonagall, he looked exactly like a child caught doing something foolish. "I thought there was still time, see. It's Harry's first day at Hogwarts, and I got a bit excited, so I… well, I had a drink or two."
"A drink or two," Professor McGonagall repeated coldly.
"All right, Minerva," Dumbledore said, stepping in before she could properly begin. His tone was gentle, and his eyes flicked toward the darkening sky. "It is getting late, and I believe we are about to have rain. Perhaps we should let the children begin their journey to the castle."
Hagrid gave Dumbledore a grateful look at once. At Hogwarts, the person he feared most was not Snape, nor Filch, nor even Dumbledore himself. It was Professor McGonagall, whose sternness had the power to make him feel like a careless schoolboy no matter how tall he had grown.
"Very well," Professor McGonagall said at last, clearly restraining herself for the sake of time. "Hagrid, please take the first years across the Black Lake and bring them safely to Hogwarts Castle."
"Yes, Professor," Hagrid said quickly. He turned toward the waiting students and raised his booming voice. "First years! First years, follow me! Mind yer step, now. Hi, Harry, you coming over this way?"
"Hi, Hagrid!" Harry called back, his face brightening when he saw the half-giant. He hurried forward with the rest of the first years, and a group of dozens of young witches and wizards followed Hagrid toward a rough, narrow path leading away from the station.
"Good," Dumbledore said as he watched Hagrid lead them off. "We should return to Hogwarts as well. Hagrid knows this journey better than anyone, and he will bring the first years to the castle safely."
The other professors nodded. There were still preparations to finish before the Sorting and the welcoming feast, and the older students would be arriving by carriage soon. The strange events of the day had already disrupted enough; at the very least, the school needed to be ready when the children entered the Great Hall.
A low rumble of thunder rolled across the grey sky. A faint flash of lightning flickered behind the clouds, briefly illuminating the platform and the dark shapes of the trees beyond it. The air had become heavy and damp, carrying the sharp scent that always came just before rain.
"Hurry up!" Hagrid called from the front of the path. "Let's move a bit faster. It's going to pour soon, and none of you want to get soaked before you even reach the castle."
That was easy for him to say. Hagrid's huge strides carried him along the rough path as if it were nothing more than a garden walk, while the first years behind him had to half run just to keep up. Their shoes slipped on loose stones, robes caught on branches, and more than one student stumbled as the narrow trail dipped and climbed through dense trees.
The path was steep, dark, and difficult to walk. The woods on either side pressed close, full of damp leaves and twisting roots, and the gathering storm made everything feel wilder than it should have. Before long, several students tripped and fell, scraping their palms or knees on stone and earth. A few of them stood up with tears in their eyes, trying very hard not to cry in front of everyone.
"Harry," Tyler said quietly, glancing at Hagrid's broad back far ahead, "you know Hagrid. Ask him to slow down. None of us are half-giants, and not everyone can keep up with him."
Harry nodded at once. "Hagrid! Could you slow down a bit? We can't keep up with you."
Hagrid turned so sharply that a few students nearly bumped into one another behind him. "Oh! Sorry, sorry," he said, looking genuinely guilty as he slowed his pace. "Got a bit carried away. Take yer time, everyone, and mind where you put your feet. This path can be tricky."
With Hagrid finally moving at a more reasonable speed, the first years were able to breathe again. The line continued forward through the trees, slower now but steadier, with students helping one another over roots and around slick patches of mud. The thunder muttered overhead, but for the moment, the rain still held back.
After what felt like a long walk, the path bent sharply around a cluster of trees, and the world opened before them. The first years emerged beside a vast black lake, its surface dark and rippling beneath the stormy sky. Across the water, high on a hillside, Hogwarts Castle rose in all its impossible grandeur.
The castle looked ancient, majestic, and alive. Towers and turrets stabbed into the dim sky, hundreds of windows glimmered gold against the gathering dark, and the great stone walls seemed to grow straight out of the cliffs. Even after everything that had happened on the train and in Hogsmeade, the sight silenced the first years more completely than any professor could have.
"It really is magnificent," Jamie said softly, looking across the lake. "An ancient school with a thousand years of history should look exactly like that."
Tyler nodded, his eyes resting on the castle. Hogwarts was more than a school; it was a fortress of magic, memory, and secrets. Seeing it from across the Black Lake, with the storm gathering above and the water stretching below, made even him feel a flicker of anticipation.
Dozens of small boats waited along the shore, lined up neatly at the edge of the lake. Each one had been enchanted to move on its own, requiring no oars or effort from the students. The tradition was simple but powerful: the first years crossed the water together, following the same path generations had taken before them.
"No more than four to a boat!" Hagrid shouted. "Climb in carefully, now. Don't rock them about."
Hagrid stepped into one of the boats himself, and it dipped heavily under his weight but did not sink. The first years began sorting themselves out in nervous little clusters, climbing into the boats while trying not to slip on the wet shore. Harry and Ron hurried into one together and settled near the middle, then looked back when they realised Tyler and Jamie had not followed.
"Tyler! Jamie!" Harry called, waving to them. "Come on, there's room here."
"Taking a boat is boring," Tyler said.
Before Hermione could protest, he gently pushed her and Neville toward Harry and Ron's boat. Neville nearly squeaked as he stumbled in, clutching Trevor close, while Hermione sat down stiffly and turned at once to glare at Tyler from across the short distance. She clearly suspected that something improper was about to happen.
"I think you want to cause trouble," Tyler said, glancing at Jamie.
Jamie smiled faintly, entirely unapologetic. "So do you. In our previous life, we were just ordinary people. We had no strength, so we had to endure whatever came. In this life, since we have power, we might as well enjoy it properly."
"Wouldn't that be a little too high-profile?" Tyler asked.
His tone was casual, but he was thinking seriously. In the whole wizarding world, the only person he truly regarded with caution was Dumbledore. The old man was far too deep, far too calculating, and far too good at placing pieces on the board. Two generations of Dark Lords had been drawn into his plans and destroyed in the end, and calling him the White Lord was not much of an exaggeration.
"So what if it is?" Jamie said. "With enough power, you can do what you want. At our rate of growth, it won't take many years to surpass Dumbledore."
He was not being blindly arrogant. Even now, if they could not defeat Dumbledore outright, they were confident they could escape. That was already more than most wizards in the world could claim.
"Hey!" Hagrid called from the lake, looking back toward the shore. "Why haven't you two got in a boat yet?"
Tyler and Jamie exchanged a look. Then both of them walked toward two empty boats, raised their wands, and pointed at the wooden hulls waiting by the shore. The other first years watched in confusion, while Hermione's eyes widened with instant alarm.
With two smooth wand movements, the boats twisted and reshaped. Wood stretched, flattened, sharpened, and gleamed as the enchantments around them flickered under the pressure of Transfiguration. In the next moment, the two small boats had become two broad, sharp-edged swords, each wide enough for several people to stand on, floating steadily in mid-air above the black water.
A stunned silence fell over the shore. Even Hagrid stared, his mouth slightly open beneath his beard, while Harry and Ron looked as if they had just seen the coolest thing in the world. Hermione looked torn between horror and fascination, and Neville simply clutched Trevor tighter.
This was Transfiguration. Besides Charms, it was the branch of magic Tyler had studied most seriously over the years, because true Transfiguration was terrifyingly powerful. Practiced to its highest level, it could change almost anything into anything else, reshaping the world itself through will, theory, and precise magical control.
But Transfiguration was also extremely difficult. It required subtle control, deep understanding, and a steady mind, and even talented wizards struggled with its finer points. Even with Tyler and Jamie's genius, they had only just stepped onto the threshold of Transfiguration, nowhere near Professor McGonagall's level, let alone Dumbledore's.
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