As the Sorting Hat echoed its final call, "Hufflepuff!", a wave of applause spread across the Great Hall. The student beamed as they scurried to the Hufflepuff table, where their new housemates welcomed them with cheerful claps and pats on the back. Professor McGonagall rolled up her long parchment with practiced grace, giving a slight nod before taking the Sorting Hat in her arms and exiting through the tall doors.
Ethan leaned back slightly in his seat at the Ravenclaw table, the corners of his mouth curling into a small smile. He was in. No more waiting. He was a Ravenclaw now, surrounded by a sea of blue and silver. The air was electric with excitement and the buzzing of hundreds of voices, students new and old, ready to begin another year of magic and mayhem.
Then, a gentle clear of the thorat cut through the noise like a soft bell.
All heads turned. Albus Dumbledore had risen to his feet.
There he was. Dumbledore's presence was everything the stories had promised and more. A towering figure draped in rich robes that shimmered like stardust, with half-moon spectacles perched low on his crooked nose and a beard so long it nearly brushed the table. But it was his eyes,twinkling with kindness and something far older, something which truly held the room.
"Welcome!" Dumbledore said warmly, spreading his arms. "Welcome to another year at Hogwarts. Whether this is your first time joining us, or you are returning for another year of magic and learning, I am delighted to see all your eager faces."
Polite applause followed, but Ethan barely noticed. He was focused on every word, memorizing the cadence of Dumbledore's voice. Even knowing the lines from the books, hearing them in person was different
"As always," Dumbledore continued, and now his tone shifted just enough to catch everyone's attention, "I must remind you that Mr. Filtch has the extended list of all banned items and trinkets for the year." Dumbledore losted out a few newer additions and when he seemed to be done speaking, he continued, "The third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is strictly off-limits to anyone who does not wish to die a most painful death."
Laughter rippled through the hall, some uncertain, some amused. First-years turned to each other with wide eyes and nervous whispers. Ethan, however, remained still.
He already knew that beneath the polished floors and enchanted ceilings of this ancient castle, secrets stirred. Fluffy, the massive three-headed dog, waited behind that door, guarding something far more valuable than the school dared to admit.
And sitting just a few seats down at the staff table was another secret altogether.
Dumbledore had moved on, gesturing gracefully toward a man sitting with hunched shoulders and an anxious smile. "I am pleased to introduce our new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, Professor Quirinus Quirrell."
There was another round of applause, polite, but lukewarm.
Quirrell nodded awkwardly, adjusting his turban. His eyes darted about like a rabbit sensing predators, and he mumbled something incoherent under his breath.
Ethan's stomach turned ever so slightly. He wasn't looking at a harmless, stuttering teacher. He was looking at a host. Voldemort, You-Know-Who, sat just in the same room, hidden under folds of fabric and a weak man's skin.
And that knowledge made every second of eye contact feel like standing too close to a cliff edge. Still, he shook the thought away.
He wasn't here to stop Voldemort. That wasn't his fight.
The soft clink of Dumbledore's spoon tapping against his goblet brought the room's attention back. "Let the feast… begin!"
In an instant, the empty plates before them filled with such speed and splendor it was like watching a spell unfold. Platters of golden roast chicken, glazed ham, rich gravies, buttery mashed potatoes, steaming vegetables, and treacle tart appeared as though summoned by desire itself.
Ethan's mouth watered. He hadn't realized how hungry he was until now. With a quiet chuckle, he grabbed a spoonful of roast potatoes and piled it onto his plate, following up with slices of beef and a thick ladle of gravy.
It was divine. Every bite seemed to melt in his mouth, and the flavors danced on his tongue like they were spelled to be perfect. No restaurant he remebered had ever come close.
Across from him, a girl with short black hair and an energetic grin spoke through a mouthful of peas. "What's your name?"
"Ethan," he said after swallowing. "You?"
"Helena. First year, obviously." She laughed and reached for a Yorkshire pudding. "I still can't believe we're actually here."
Ethan smiled. "Yeah. It feels like a dream."
A boy beside Helena leaned in. He had a mop of curly brown hair and a dimpled chin. "I'm Anthony. This place is massive, isn't it?"
The three of them quickly fell into an easy conversation, guessing which classes would be the hardest, who the strictest professor might be, and debating whether ghosts could eat. Ethan mostly listened, enjoying the normalcy of it. No big reveals. No grand adventures. Just students chatting over dinner.
Eventually, the feast came to a natural end, and the plates cleared themselves once again with a soft shimmer. Dumbledore stood one final time, smiling kindly.
"Now that we are all well-fed and ready to fall asleep at our tables, I invite our prefects to lead the first-years to your common rooms. Sleep well, and prepare yourselves for the magic ahead."
At the Ravenclaw table, a tall fifth-year girl with a confident stride and a silver prefect badge motioned for them to follow. "First-years! Come along now."
Ethan stood and trailed behind the line of his new housemates as they exited the Great Hall and climbed staircase after staircase. The walls were alive. Paintings waved and whispered, staircases shifted mid-step, and the torches cast shadows that moved just a little too independently.
Eventually, they stopped in front of a tall wooden door. In the center was a bronze eagle knocker, gleaming in the dim light.
The prefect raised her hand and knocked.
A smooth, melodic voice answered, "What has roots as nobody sees, is taller than trees, up, up it goes, and yet it never grows?"
A few students looked confused, whispering guesses. Ethan, of course, already knew.
The prefect didn't hesitate. "A mountain."
The eagle gave an approving nod and the door creaked open, revealing the entrance to the Ravenclaw common room.
Inside, moonlight spilled through tall arched windows, casting silver light on book-laden shelves and soft blue carpets. The room felt ancient yet warm, filled with quiet intelligence and curiosity.
Ethan stepped inside, taking a slow breath.
This was home now. A place of learning, of mystery, and magic.
He was part of it now.