Late 1938, Stepney
The first of September arrived, and Leonard hadn’t slept a wink. His mind was a whirl of anticipation and dread, thoughts of the people he might meet at Hogwarts clashing with memories of Evangeline Greengrass Rosier and her cold, disdainful gaze. He hoped not everyone would be as insufferable.
That morning, the atmosphere in the Harrington household was subdued. Beatrice had already left for work, and Thomas hadn’t been home in days. Leonard sat at the kitchen table with his mother, picking at a meagre breakfast of stale bread and jam. The silence between them was heavy, laden with unspoken words. Joyce was still asleep, and Leonard found himself grateful for the quiet, even if it was oppressive.
A knock at the door broke the stillness. Leonard’s mother looked up but didn’t move. Leonard took a deep breath, rose from his seat, and opened the door to find Miss Brandt standing there, dressed in her usual suit trousers. She offered him a polite smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.
“Good morning, Leonard,” she greeted him, her tone gentle yet businesslike. He nodded, stepping aside to let her in.
“I’ll make you some tea,” Leonard offered out of habit, but Miss Brandt declined with a shake of her head. She glanced around the modest kitchen, her gaze briefly settling on Leonard’s mother, who offered a strained smile in return.
“Go ahead and gather all your things,” Miss Brandt instructed, her voice kind but firm. “I’ll check to make sure you haven’t forgotten anything.”
Leonard hurried to his room, his mind racing as he stuffed the last few items into his bag. When he returned to the kitchen, Miss Brandt was already inspecting his belongings. He caught her muttering a soft “Reducio” as her necklace glowed faintly, shrinking everything down to a manageable size. The only item left for Leonard to carry was his wand, which he gripped tightly, the wood warm against his palm.
Before they left, Leonard turned to his mother and hugged her tightly. She held him close, her frail arms surprisingly strong. “I’m so proud of you, Leonard,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “You’ll find your way, even without me. Remember, I love you.”
She handed him a small envelope, her hands shaking slightly. Leonard recognized Thomas’s scrawl the moment he unfolded the letter, and his heart sank as he read.
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Leonard,
So, you're off to Hogwarts now, off to learn your spells and charms, thinking magic will fix everything. You think it makes you better than me? It doesn’t.
Magic won’t change who you are, where you came from, or what you’ve done. You’re just as tainted as the rest of us. You might think you’re escaping to that boarding school with its enchanted walls and privileged wizards, but the truth is, Leonard, you’re running away—from your own blood, from me, from our family. You think a few spells will wash away the stink of Stepney? Think again.
Hogwarts won’t make you different, won’t make you special. You’ll always be one of us—worthless. While you’re choosing comfort, the rest of us rot here. Don’t fool yourself into thinking you can come back and pick up where you left off. When you left, you severed that tie.
You’re dead to me. Dead to your family. Don’t bother sending a letter. I’ll burn anything you send.
—Thomas
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Leonard’s chest tightened as he read the bitter words. He stood frozen, staring at the letter, each sentence a dagger to his heart. For a moment, doubt crept in. Was he truly running away?
But he couldn’t dwell on it. He carefully folded the letter, slipping it back into the envelope. His mother watched him, worry etched on her face. He forced a smile, not wanting to add to her burden.
“I’ll write to you as soon as I can, Mum,” he said softly, his voice steady despite the turmoil inside. She smiled back, relief washing over her features, and pulled him into another tight embrace. Leonard held her close, drawing strength from her warmth, even as his mind lingered on the harsh words of the letter.
With everything packed and ready, Leonard followed Miss Brandt down to the cellar of their worn-down apartment. The air was cool and damp, the scent of mildew clinging to the stone walls. Leonard glanced around, taking in the familiar gloom. It struck him how much this place had shaped him—yet how eager he was to leave it behind.
Once they reached the alleyway, the air felt thick with the lingering scent of rain on the cobblestones. Miss Brandt whispered something under her breath, and with a flick of her wand, Leonard’s supplies reappeared at their feet. As he grabbed his belongings, Leonard noticed a figure standing quietly in the shadows—a boy, perhaps a year or two older than him. Sandy blond hair fell messily over the boy’s forehead, his warm hazel eyes reflecting curiosity and friendliness. He wore a simple button-up shirt with rolled-up sleeves, his trousers slightly too long, giving him a carefree appearance.
“Aunt Eleanora!” the boy called out, a broad smile spreading across his face. Miss Brandt, usually so composed, returned the smile, a rare warmth in her eyes.
“Hi there, I’m Edmund,” the boy introduced himself, extending a hand. “Eleanora is my aunt, but you can call her Miss Brandt, of course.”
Leonard shook his hand, feeling a bit more at ease. “Leonard,” he replied, managing a small smile.
As they walked through the bustling streets of 1938 London, Leonard couldn’t help but marvel at the sights around him. The city was alive with energy—carts rattling along the streets, people hurrying past with purpose, and the distant sound of a tram clattering over tracks. The air was filled with the scents of coal smoke, damp pavement, and the faint aroma of freshly baked bread from a nearby bakery.
King’s Cross Station loomed ahead, its massive iron and glass structure teeming with travellers. Miss Brandt led them through the crowd, and each of the boys grabbed a cart for their school supplies. As they maneuvered their way through the station, Edmund chattered away, his excitement contagious.
“I’m a second-year in Gryffindor, well, third-year in a couple of hours,” Edmund said proudly. “Hogwarts is amazing—you’ll love it. My dad’s a Muggle, so he doesn’t get all the magic stuff, but he tries.”
Leonard listened, absorbing every word. The station was filled with children dressed in various attire—some already wearing their school robes, while others, like himself, were in ‘normal’ clothes. What struck Leonard most were the adults, their flamboyant attire blending seamlessly with the ordinary, as if magic and mundanity coexisted without question.
Miss Brandt remained silent, letting the boys talk as she guided them toward a quieter section of the station. The noise began to fade as they approached a seemingly unremarkable metal gate. Leonard looked around, puzzled. Nothing about this spot seemed special, but Miss Brandt’s focused demeanour told him otherwise.
“The entrance to Platform Nine and Three-Quarters is just ahead,” she explained. “It’s hidden from Muggles, but you’ll be able to pass through. Just follow my instructions.”
Leonard felt a flutter of nerves in his stomach. Edmund gave him an encouraging nod. “It’s easy, really,” Edmund assured him. “You just have to trust it.”
Miss Brandt placed her hand on a small, ornate symbol etched into the gate. “Alohomora,” she whispered. The gate creaked open, revealing a narrow passageway shimmering like liquid light.
“Go ahead,” Miss Brandt instructed, stepping back. Edmund moved forward confidently, and after a moment’s hesitation, Leonard followed. He felt a brief sensation of being compressed, like the air was squeezing around him, but it passed quickly.
They emerged on the other side into a world of magic. Platform Nine and Three-Quarters buzzed with activity—children in a mix of Muggle clothing and wizarding robes, parents bidding their children farewell, and the gleaming scarlet Hogwarts Express waiting patiently for its passengers. Leonard took it all in, his heart racing with a mix of excitement and nervousness.
Miss Brandt smiled at Leonard’s wide-eyed wonder. “You did well,” she said softly. “Now, let’s get your things on board.”
As they moved toward the train, Edmund pointed out other students, chatting about who was who. Leonard, however, was too engrossed in the sights and sounds to take it all in.
Suddenly, Edmund spotted a group of familiar faces. “There are my friends!” he exclaimed, turning to Leonard with a quick smile. “Good luck, Leonard. You’re going to love Hogwarts. See you there!”
Edmund hurried off to join his friends, leaving Leonard standing beside Miss Brandt. She watched the boy disappear into the crowd, shaking her head slightly, though a small, amused smile played on her lips. “Edmund always finds his friends in a crowd,” she remarked.
Miss Brandt then helped Leonard step onto the train. They made their way down the narrow corridor, searching for an empty compartment. The train was filled with laughter and chatter, the excitement of the students palpable.
Leonard’s heart raced as they passed by various compartments. Older students discussed Quidditch with enthusiasm, their voices blending with the hiss of steam from the engine. Leonard was curious but also overwhelmed by all the new information and the unfamiliar terms being thrown around.
Miss Brandt finally found an empty compartment and helped Leonard stow his things in the overhead rack. “You’ll fit right in, Leonard,” she assured him, her voice filled with quiet confidence. “Remember, you’re on a journey now, and it’s yours to shape.”
She offered her well-wishes and left, leaving Leonard alone in the compartment. He glanced out the window, watching as families said their last goodbyes. The train’s whistle blew, signalling their imminent departure, and Leonard felt a surge of mixed emotions—excitement, nervousness, and a flicker of hope.
He settled into his seat, pulling out a book to distract himself from the tumultuous thoughts swirling in his mind. The rhythmic clatter of the train’s wheels on the tracks provided a soothing backdrop as the world outside blurred into a patchwork of green fields and distant hills. Leonard immersed himself in the pages of The Trial by Franz Kafka, a book he had found discarded amidst the growing tensions over the German Reich. The complex, dark nature of the story offered a strange sense of comfort, as if connecting him to a past he could barely recall.
The compartment door slid open, and Leonard glanced up to see a boy standing in the doorway. The boy had jet-black hair and dark, piercing eyes that seemed to take in everything at once. He was about half a head taller than Leonard, with hollowed cheeks that gave him an air of maturity beyond his years. His clothes, though neat, were worn, with several haphazard stitches holding them together.
“Is this seat empty?” the boy asked, his voice smooth and polite.
Leonard nodded and returned to his book, though a flicker of curiosity lingered.
The boy hefted his suitcase onto the rack above and settled into the seat across from Leonard. “I’m Tom. Tom Riddle.”
“Leonard Harrington,” Leonard replied, his tone polite but reserved.
Tom seemed eager to talk. “Are you a first year too?”
“Yes,” Leonard replied simply, his eyes still on the text.
“Me too,” Tom continued, undeterred by Leonard’s brevity. “I didn’t know I was a wizard until a few weeks ago. It was a bit of a shock. Did you know about all this?”
Leonard hesitated. “No, I didn’t.” He kept his answers short, more interested in the story unfolding in his book than in making small talk.
Sensing Leonard’s disinterest, Tom fell silent. The compartment settled into a companionable quiet, with Leonard lost in Kafka’s prose and Tom gazing out the window with a thoughtful expression.
The silence was interrupted by a portly man with a prominent moustache pushing a trolley laden with sweets. “Anything off the trolley, dears?” he asked jovially.
Leonard politely declined. Tom did the same, though Leonard noticed Tom’s gaze lingered on the trolley before looking away.
As the man moved on, Leonard turned his attention to the passing countryside. He didn’t notice Tom’s eyes on him, studying him with an intensity that went beyond simple curiosity.
The peaceful silence was broken by a low, rumbling sound. Leonard glanced over to see Tom’s face reddening slightly with embarrassment. His stomach had made the noise, loud and unmistakable. Tom seemed to shrink back, clearly uncomfortable, but he remained silent.
Without a word, Leonard reached into his bag, pulling out a neatly wrapped sandwich. He offered it to Tom, who hesitated before taking it with a small nod of thanks.
They ate in silence, though Leonard couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off about Tom. The boy seemed distant, yet there was an undercurrent of something else—an emotion Leonard couldn’t quite place. Frustration? Anger?
Whatever it was, it tugged at the edges of Leonard’s consciousness, creating a slight, almost imperceptible pressure in his mind. It wasn’t painful, but it was disorienting, like a faint headache that came and went without warning.
Leonard glanced at Tom, and for a brief moment, he saw a flash of panic in the boy’s eyes, as if he had been caught doing something he shouldn’t have. Tom quickly looked away, feigning interest in the scenery outside the window. The pressure in Leonard’s mind eased as soon as Tom’s gaze broke away, leaving Leonard feeling oddly relieved but also wary.
Something had just happened. Leonard couldn’t shake the feeling that Tom had tried to do… something. He couldn’t say what it was, but his instincts told him to be cautious. He maintained his neutral expression, taking another bite of his sandwich, but his mind was racing.
Leonard had lost track of time when he noticed Tom studying the Standard Book of Spells by Miranda Goshawk, his brow furrowed in concentration.
“Studying ahead, are you?” Leonard remarked, breaking the silence.
Tom looked up, offering a small smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “I suppose.”
“Have you tried casting any spells before?” Leonard asked, curious but careful not to pry too deeply.
Tom shook his head, his expression darkening slightly. “No, I didn’t have the time. My living situation… didn’t allow for it.” There was a bitterness in his voice, but Leonard decided not to press further.
This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it
Sensing the tension, Tom quickly redirected the conversation. “What about you? Have you tried any spells?”
Leonard chuckled softly. “I was too scared, honestly. When I was at Ollivanders getting my wand, I accidentally burned a stack of papers. Didn’t want to risk doing that at home.” He gave Tom a sheepish grin.
Tom let out a brief, dry laugh. The tension between them eased slightly.
“So, which Hogwarts House do you think you’ll end up in?” Tom asked, his tone casual.
“I don’t really know much about them,” Leonard admitted. “Miss Brandt told me a little—she said I should probably stay away from Slytherin. But I guess I’ll end up where I’m supposed to.”
Tom’s gaze sharpened at the mention of Slytherin, but he quickly masked it. “Slytherin’s not all bad,” he said quietly. “They value ambition and cunning. I think I’d fit in well there.”
Leonard nodded, sensing there was more to Tom’s words than he was letting on. “I’ve heard Gryffindor’s good for bravery, Ravenclaw for intelligence, and Hufflepuff… well, they’re loyal and hardworking, right?”
“Right,” Tom agreed, though there was an edge to his voice. “But sometimes loyalty and hard work aren’t enough. Ambition can take you further—if you know how to use it.”
There was a pause as the two boys weighed each other’s words. Leonard could sense that Tom was testing him, probing for something, though he couldn’t quite grasp what it was.
“Ambition’s good,” Leonard said after a moment, choosing his words carefully, “but it’s important not to follow it blindly, without a clear purpose or goal. And belittling others along the way—that’s not the right path either.”
Tom’s expression flickered with a hint of confusion. Leonard, however, was reminded of Evangeline Greengrass Rosier’s cold arrogance and the way she looked down on others. The memory made him even more certain that Slytherin might not be the best fit for him, but he kept this thought to himself.
To ease the tension, Leonard offered a small smile. “You know, when I got my wand, I was a little too ambitious myself. I ate three scoops of ice cream right before heading home. Let’s just say, it all made an unwelcome appearance after the trip—though I blame most of it on the apparition.”
Tom let out a snort, the tension between them easing further. “Yeah, apparition can do that to you,” he agreed, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
The two boys fell back into a more comfortable silence, the earlier unease dissipating somewhat.
“Well, we’ll find out soon enough,” Leonard said, meeting Tom’s gaze directly. For a brief moment, he saw something unsettling in those dark eyes—a flicker of darkness, a shadow of something he had seen once before in his brother’s eyes, the day Leonard had struck him.
Tom held his gaze for a moment longer before asking, “How much time do you think we have left before we get to Hogwarts?”
“Probably another three to four hours,” Leonard replied, his voice steady despite the tension he felt. “The castle’s somewhere in Scotland, I think, probably in the Highlands.”
Tom sighed, seemingly lost in thought. Leonard shifted, feeling the need to distance himself from the unease that had settled over them. “Mind if we switch places? I could use the whole bench to get some rest.”
Tom agreed with a nod, and Leonard handed him his Thermos and the rest of his snacks. “If you want to drink or eat something, help yourself. I didn’t get a wink of sleep last night—too much excitement, I suppose,” Leonard added with a small smile.
The boys swapped seats, and Leonard stretched out on the bench, making an exaggerated yawning sound as he settled in. He closed his eyes, letting his body relax, but he didn’t let his guard down. He had learned long ago how to slow his breathing, how to fake the steady rhythm of sleep—a skill he’d honed while eavesdropping on his parents’ and siblings’ conversations.
It didn’t take long before he felt it—a slight pressure, much weaker than before, but still unmistakable. It was probing, searching.
This time, Leonard didn’t resist. Instead, he guided it, letting the force in.
Leonard found it much harder than expected to resist the force probing his mind. It was faint, careful not to disturb him too much, which made it easier to endure, but the effort to keep it from being entirely pushed out was taxing. The force was searching for something, gliding through his memories like a cautious intruder. The best analogy Leonard could come up with was that it was like window shopping—lingering longer at some memories while quickly moving on from others.
He realized that Tom, or whatever magic he was using, had little interest in happy memories. The King’s Jubilee, a day of national celebration, was almost entirely bypassed, as were the cherished moments with his mother and father before his father's injury—days spent picnicking in the park, moments of laughter and warmth. Tom’s presence lingered, however, on the darker memories—the day his father died, the feelings that overwhelmed him when he struck out at his brother, and the relentless bullying he had endured at school. These moments seemed to captivate Tom, holding his interest far longer than the others.
Leonard soon understood that he could influence the presence, subtly guiding it toward certain memories while keeping others shielded. The force had a limited reach; it couldn’t search for specific memories or days, only what was on the surface of his thoughts—those fleeting, often intrusive memories that bubbled up unbidden. It was a strange experience, as Leonard never thought his mind worked in such a disjointed, compartmentalized way. To him, his thoughts were always a continuous stream, connected or not. But now, he could see the force trying to navigate this stream, picking up on whatever caught its interest.
He felt the force gradually weakening, as if the strain of maintaining the connection was taking a toll on its user. Perhaps Tom wasn’t experienced enough to fully control it, or maybe this kind of mental intrusion was simply exhausting. Leonard’s relief grew as the force began to retreat, but with it came a new sense of fear. This was dangerous—Tom had glimpsed things that could change everything, and Leonard knew more than he let on, knowledge that could alter the course of history itself.
As the presence faded, Leonard realized that he had learned something valuable. He had felt the beginnings of how to guard against such mental intrusions, how to protect his thoughts from being exposed. He would need to read up on this, to understand it better. But for now, he lay still, the fear creeping into his heart. He knew he had to be careful—more careful than he had ever been.
Leonard maintained his charade for several hours, pretending to be asleep, his fear gnawing at him that Tom might attempt another intrusion into his mind. However, to his relief—or perhaps disappointment, though he couldn’t quite decide—the boy made no further attempts.
Their compartment door opened twice during those long hours. The first time, it was by an older student, likely a third or fourth year, who, judging by the brief glance he cast inside, was looking for someone. The door was closed as quickly as it was opened, leaving Leonard and Tom undisturbed. The second time, a Hufflepuff student entered—a second-year, from what Leonard gathered through the sparse conversation he had with Tom. The boy, who introduced himself as Henry Meadows, had apparently lost a bet with his housemates, resulting in his having to travel the remainder of the journey in a different compartment.
Henry was friendly and talkative, providing a wealth of information about Hogwarts. He mentioned various teachers, detailing which subjects he found interesting and which he deemed less so. He also warned them about certain professors they’d need to watch out for, advice Leonard mentally filed away for later. The conversation was a brief respite from the tension that had settled over Leonard, but soon after, Henry left, leaving the compartment quiet once more.
Leonard heard Tom leave the compartment briefly, likely to visit the washroom. When he returned, Leonard could feel the boy’s gaze on him, as if trying to determine whether he was truly asleep. Leonard, however, kept his breathing even, his eyes closed, not willing to break the illusion. The presence of Tom Riddle was unsettling, and Leonard couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something deeply unnerving about the boy. The more he thought about it, the more uneasy he became.
Before Leonard could dwell too much on his thoughts, he felt a slight nudge. Tom’s voice, cool and composed, broke the silence. “We’ll be arriving shortly,” he said.
Leonard opened his eyes, blinking as if he were just waking up. “Thanks,” he muttered, as he pushed himself upright. He glanced at Tom, who was now wearing a black robe, looking every bit the part of a young wizard. Outside, the window revealed nothing but darkness; it must have been evening, as the landscape was hidden beneath the cloak of night.
As Leonard stretched, he realized how stiff he had become, muscles tight from the tension of pretending to be asleep for so long. Tom, noticing his movement, spoke again. “You should change into your school robes. We’ll be arriving at Hogsmeade Station shortly.”
Leonard nodded, feeling the awkwardness of the moment as he began to undress. Stripping down to his underwear, he rifled through his suitcase for a clean shirt and trousers. As he dressed, he noticed Tom’s gaze lingering on him, particularly on the long scar that ran alongside his ribcage. Leonard didn’t offer any explanation for it, nor did he feel inclined to. He buttoned up his white shirt, pulled on his trousers, and donned his robe, feeling the unfamiliar weight of it settle over his shoulders.
Tom seemed momentarily flustered, though Leonard wasn’t sure if it was from the undressing or something else. He didn’t dwell on it. Once he was fully dressed, Tom broke the silence again. “You had a restful sleep?”
Leonard stretched, giving a nonchalant shrug. “Well enough,” he replied, keeping his tone casual. He couldn’t tell if Tom was testing him, trying to gauge whether he had really slept or just pretended. The unease returned, but Leonard kept it at bay, not wanting to give Tom any reason to pry further.
Just then, the compartment door slid open again, and a blond boy stepped inside. Leonard didn’t recognize him, but the boy’s appearance was striking. He had pale blond hair that fell in neat waves, sharp features that seemed almost chiselled, and an air of superiority that radiated from him effortlessly. His eyes were a cold, steel-blue, and his posture was impeccable, almost aristocratic. The boy wore his green school robes with a natural grace, as though he had been born to wear them. Leonard’s gaze was drawn to a small pin fixed on the boy’s robe—a silver background with the letter ‘P’ embossed in green.
The boy gave them both a quick, appraising glance before speaking. “You don’t need to worry about your luggage. Just bring your wands. The house elves will take care of the rest.” Before Leonard could respond, the boy had already turned on his heel, pushing the door shut behind him as he moved on to the next compartment.
As the train came to a halt and the doors slid open, Leonard was surprised by the sheer number of students disembarking, their excited chatter filling the cool evening air. Lanterns floated above, casting a soft, warm glow that illuminated the platform and the surrounding area. The magical light seemed to chase away the shadows, giving the night an almost ethereal quality.
"First years, first years, please gather here!" a voice boomed through the crowd, cutting through the noise. Leonard and Tom exchanged a glance before moving toward the source of the shouts.
The man calling out to them was middle-aged, with an unruly beard that looked like it hadn’t been trimmed in years. His face was weathered, and his eyes twinkled with a kind of warmth that put Leonard slightly at ease. The man was a bit more corpulent than Leonard expected, his round belly visible even under the thick, well-worn cloak he wore. In one hand, he held a large lantern, its light flickering softly.
"Alright, gather 'round, everyone!" the man called out, waving the lantern in a wide arc. "I’m Oswald Haggis, the Gamekeeper of Hogwarts. I’ll be taking you lot up to the castle. So, stick close, don’t wander off, and mind the path—it can be a bit tricky in the dark."
He repeated his instructions a couple of times, ensuring the growing group of first years was paying attention. Leonard glanced back toward the train and noticed several staff members standing by, watching over the departing students. One of them, holding a lantern, raised it three times in a signal. Haggis nodded in acknowledgment, raising his own lantern in response.
"Looks like everyone’s here," Haggis said, more to himself than anyone else. Then, with a louder voice, he added, "Alright then, follow me! Keep close, and no dawdling!"
The first years began to follow Haggis as he led them away from the platform and along a narrow path. The warm September wind rustled through the trees, carrying the scent of pine and damp earth. Leonard looked around, noting the vast number of students—at least eighty, maybe more. He recognized a few faces from Diagon Alley. He was relieved, however, that Violetta Rosier was nowhere in sight.
As they made their way down the path, Leonard noticed the terrain sloping gently downward. The air grew cooler, the scent of pine and earth becoming more pronounced. The noise of the crowd quieted as they drew nearer to the edge of the path, where a vast, dark lake stretched out before them. The surface of the water was like polished glass, reflecting the lantern light in a shimmering dance that made the lake appear as though it was alive with tiny, flickering stars.
Boats were stationed along the shoreline, bobbing gently as the warm breeze rippled across the water. Mr. Haggis, the gamekeeper, gestured for the first years to step into the boats. Leonard exchanged a glance with Tom before they both carefully climbed into one of the small vessels. Three more students joined them—a girl with wild, curly hair and a boy who seemed slightly older than the rest. They introduced themselves in hurried, excited tones, but Leonard found their names slipping from his mind as soon as they were spoken, his attention drawn to the scene before him.
"Forward!" Haggis called out, his voice firm and commanding. The boats, seemingly of their own accord, began to glide across the lake, cutting through the still water with an eerie, silent grace.
As the boats moved further from the shore, the first glimpse of Hogwarts came into view. At first, it was just a dark silhouette against the night sky, but as they drew closer, the castle's towering spires and turrets began to take shape. The castle itself seemed to rise out of the very rock it was built on, its walls a pale, weathered stone that gleamed faintly under the starlight. Windows dotted the castle's face, their lights twinkling like distant stars.
The sheer scale of Hogwarts was awe-inspiring. The castle loomed high above the lake, its towers stretching toward the heavens as if trying to touch the stars themselves. The Great Hall, with its massive arched windows, glowed warmly from within, the light spilling out onto the grounds below. It was a sight that stirred something deep within Leonard, a mixture of wonder and disbelief that such a place could exist. It had been a long time since Leonard had felt truly awestruck, but now, sitting in that small boat, staring up at the grandeur of Hogwarts, he found himself speechless.
As the boats glided smoothly into the tunnel beneath the castle, the air grew cooler and the sounds of the lake behind them faded, replaced by the quiet murmur of water lapping against stone. The first years disembarked in near silence, the awe that had gripped them as they approached Hogwarts now rendering them speechless. Leonard stepped out onto the cold stone floor, his eyes darting around to take in every detail. The walls of the tunnel were ancient, worn smooth by time, and the dim light from the lanterns cast long, eerie shadows that danced along the stone.
Mr. Haggis led the group up a winding staircase, the steps echoing with the sound of their nervous footfalls. As they ascended, the faint sound of their breathing was the only noise breaking the silence, each step bringing them closer to the world above.
At the top of the staircase, they were met by a tall, imposing figure. She stood with a quiet authority that immediately commanded respect. Leonard’s eyes were drawn first to her sharp, intelligent gaze, those icy blue eyes that seemed to penetrate right through him. She wore deep blue robes, almost black, with silver embroidery that glimmered faintly in the dim light of the torches. The fabric of her robes whispered as she moved, and Leonard couldn’t help but notice the eagle-shaped silver brooch pinned over her heart—a clear symbol of her Ravenclaw heritage.
Her hair, streaked with silver, was pulled back into a tight bun, though a few rebellious strands had escaped, softening her appearance. Her face was lined with age, but it was the kind of age that spoke of experience.
As the first years gathered around her, Leonard felt a mixture of awe and nervousness. The woman’s presence was overwhelming.
"Welcome to Hogwarts," she began, her voice calm and measured, carrying a quiet strength that immediately silenced the whispers of the students. "I am Professor Galatea Merrythought, Deputy Headmistress and your Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. Follow me closely as I guide you to the Great Hall, where you will be sorted into your houses. Remember, this is the beginning of a new chapter in your lives, a time to learn, to grow, and to embrace the opportunities that lie ahead."
As the first years followed Professor Merrythought through the castle’s winding corridors, Leonard could feel the anticipation growing with every step. They finally stopped in front of a towering wooden door, its dark oak surface intricately carved with symbols and designs that hinted at the ancient magic within the castle walls. The heavy door creaked open slowly, revealing a sight that took Leonard’s breath away.
They stepped into the Great Hall, a vast, majestic space that seemed almost too grand to be contained within the castle. Four long tables stretched the length of the hall, each one filled with students wearing robes adorned with the colours and emblems of their respective houses—scarlet and gold for Gryffindor, green and silver for Slytherin, blue and bronze for Ravenclaw, and yellow and black for Hufflepuff. The tables were laden with polished silver goblets and plates, catching the light from the hundreds of floating candles that hovered above, casting a warm, golden glow over everything.
The ceiling of the Great Hall was a marvel in itself, enchanted to mirror the sky outside. Tonight, it reflected a deep, star-studded night sky, with wisps of cloud drifting lazily across the constellations. The effect was mesmerizing, making the hall feel even more expansive, as though the room had no limits and extended infinitely upward. Tall, arched windows lined the walls, their glass panes stretching from floor to ceiling, letting in the soft moonlight that mixed with the glow of the candles.
Professor Merrythought paused just inside the door, allowing the students a moment to take in the awe-inspiring sight before she turned to address them. Her voice was calm but commanding, instantly drawing their attention.
"Welcome to the Great Hall," she began. "This is where you will gather for your meals, for announcements, and for special events throughout your time at Hogwarts. But tonight, you will be sorted into one of the four houses. Each house has its own unique character and traditions, and throughout your years here, your house will become your family. The points you earn through your achievements and the deductions you may face for any rule-breaking will contribute to your house’s standing in the annual House Cup."
She gestured toward the raised platform at the far end of the hall, where an ancient, worn hat sat atop a small wooden stool. "In just a moment, I will call each of you forward to sit on that stool. The Sorting Hat will be placed upon your head, and it will decide which house is the best fit for you. Remember, the house you are sorted into will be your home for the next seven years. Approach the Sorting with an open mind and trust that the Hat knows where you belong."
With that, Professor Merrythought motioned for the first years to gather around, her icy blue eyes scanning the nervous faces before her. Leonard could feel his heart pounding in his chest as he looked at the Sorting Hat, wondering where it would place him. The hall had fallen silent, the older students watching with a mixture of curiosity and amusement as the new students prepared to take their first step into this new chapter of their lives.