As silence lingered, Hadrian finally turned his gaze outward — taking in the hundreds of wide-eyed students still gathered on the grounds. His emerald eyes swept across the sea of robes and curious expressions, lingering for a heartbeat on the youngest ones — so small and unsure, the way they always were at the beginning.
He straightened and raised his voice — calm, rich, and resonant, carrying easily across the grounds.
"We've lingered in the cold long enough. If there are questions… they can wait until we are safely within the castle."
He turned toward the house ghosts.
"Would you be so kind as to guide the students to the Great Hall?"
The Grey Lady offered a rare, serene smile.
"As you command, Nick," she replied softly.
The Fat Friar, Nearly Headless Nick, and even the Bloody Baron gave silent nods, immediately drifting among the students to usher them toward the castle with quiet authority.
As they moved, some students whispered excitedly — others looked shaken or nervous. But none resisted.
A few faculty members — Sprout, Flitwick, Hooch, and even a confused Trelawney — shared questioning glances with Dumbledore and McGonagall, clearly eager to ask something. Even Snape's usual sneer had faltered, replaced with a tight-lipped grimace of contemplation.
Yet none spoke.
Even Dumbledore, though visibly thoughtful, remained silent. He gave Hadrian a polite nod — a diplomatic acknowledgment — before turning and motioning for the professors to follow the students inside.
But not all remained silent.
From the edge of the faculty cluster, a sharp voice pierced the air.
"Hmph! Overly dramatic entrance if you ask me," came the familiar simper of Dolores Umbridge, her toad-like face pinched in suspicion. She stood clutching her clipboard tightly against her pink cardigan like it was a shield. "Red smoke, flying beasts, armor — quite the performance! Likely just another attention-seeking glory-hound trying to impress children with—"
She abruptly went quiet as Brightstar, still watching from above the grounds, turned his glowing gaze directly toward her. Even from that distance, a low growl rumbled in the air like the crackle of a storm.
Umbridge's eyes widened, her throat tightening, and she quickly looked away — mumbling something about "unsanctioned theatrics" and "Ministry reports." No one listened.
✦ Scene: Crossing the Threshold ✦
Hadrian waited until the last student was safely inside, then turned toward the grand oak doors of Hogwarts.
The moment his foot crossed the threshold… something deep within the ancient stones shifted.
A low, warm hum vibrated beneath his boots — subtle, but unmistakable to him.
The very castle stirred.
A pulse of old magic danced up the walls, through the chandeliers, and across the stone archways. In his mind, he felt the wards of Hogwarts — those great, invisible webs of power layered over the school — bend and recalibrate.
Welcoming him.
Claiming him once more.
A golden shimmer flickered briefly in his eyes as the wards transferred control to their true master. Keys returned to their original keeper.
Behind him, Dumbledore, caught in thoughts of timelines, titles, and prophecy, did not even notice the subtle shift in ownership.
✦ Scene: The Great Hall ✦
The doors of the Great Hall opened ahead of him, revealing rows of enchanted candles still flickering midair. The long tables were filled with murmuring students, a hundred conversations overlapping — awe, speculation, and wonder echoing off the stone.
Hadrian stepped inside slowly, boots silent against the floor, eyes sweeping across the scene.
So familiar.
So changed.
The last time he stood here… it had only been four tables. Four Houses. Four founders. Bright eyes and big dreams. Some things had endured.
He let out a slow, almost imperceptible breath as he walked toward the center of the Hall.
"So much noise," he said quietly, his tone tinged with gentle nostalgia. "Just like the early days. The founders and I would stand right there, watching them all come in. Nervous, eager, loud…""Rowena used to say the chatter was a sign of healthy minds. Salazar thought it was simply a sign of chaos."
His lips curved into a soft smile — distant but sincere.
"Helga would always bring sweets. Godric would sneak in extra candles. And me…""I was the one telling them to sit down and stop stepping on the tapestries."
His gaze lifted to the enchanted ceiling, reflecting a soft twilight sky.
"We built this place… and she remembers."