“Dad says Hogwarts can feel overwhelming at first,” Cedric said, looking down at the cards spread between us. “He says everyone feels lost for a week or two, then they get the hang of things.”
I nodded, though most of my focus was on the cards as well.
Cedric had called the game Exploding Snap, and the rules were simple once he explained them. Cards went down one at a time. If two matched, you slapped the pile before the other person did. If you were right, you won the stack. If you were wrong, the cards snapped at your hand, spat sparks, or exploded in your face.
Cedric won the first game in less than three minutes.
I had been too careful. Every time a card flickered or hissed, I hesitated. Cedric did not. By the end, he had most of the deck stacked beside him, while I had three cards, a faint scorch mark on my cuff, and a new respect for wizarding children’s idea of entertainment.
The second game went worse.
I tried to be faster. That only meant I slapped the pile at the wrong time and got a mouthful of purple smoke for my trouble.
Cedric had laughed, then immediately looked guilty and said sorry. He was like that. Polite, modest, and generally decent in a way that made it difficult not to like him. A person you wanted to be friends with.
He showed me the little tricks as we played, and by the third game, I won two stacks.
By the fourth, I won five.
“Ha,” I said, pulling another small pile towards me. “I think I’m getting it.”
“You are,” Cedric said. “You’re catching on quickly.”
We played another round while the train gathered speed. The platform had long vanished, replaced by London sliding past the window, then houses, then stretches of countryside.
Poe watched the cards from his cage, occasionally clicking his beak whenever one exploded.
I placed another card down.
“Did you have any magical education before this?” I asked. “Are there schools people go to before Hogwarts?”
Cedric looked surprised. “Why would there be other schools?”
“Well, Muggle children start school when they’re four or five,” I said. “Sometimes earlier.”
“Oh. Right.” He nodded slowly. “I’ve heard of that. Some half-blood families send their children to Muggle schools, I think, but most magical children are taught at home. Family, usually. Sometimes tutors.”
“You had a tutor?”
“My grandmother taught me,” he said. “Reading, writing, sums, history, that sort of thing. Mum and Dad helped with some magic.”
“What do your mum and dad do for work?”
Cedric brightened a little. “Mum doesn’t work, but Dad works at the Ministry, in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures.”
“Sounds interesting.”
“It is. Well, I think it is. He knows loads about creatures. Like last week, he had to help deal with a kelpie in Dorset.”
“A kelpie?”
“Water creature. Er, it’s horse-shaped. Dangerous if you don’t know what you’re doing.”
The conversation moved easily after that. Cedric told me more about the Ministry, about magical creatures, about the village near where he lived, and about Hogwarts things his father had mentioned without giving too much away.
He was especially talkative when the subject turned to Quidditch. The subject started because I admitted I wanted to try it.
“It’s the best,” he said. “Honestly. Best game in the world.”
Then he was off, talking about all the teams, positions, famous matches, broom types, and famous players. His dream, he told me, was to play professionally one day.
“My favourite team’s Puddlemere United,” he said. “You should support them too. They’re the best.”
I leaned back in my seat. “Funny. Another wizard tried the same thing on me. Said I should support the Chudley Cannons.”
Cedric’s face changed at once.
“The Cannons?”
“Yes.”
“Are you joking?”
“No. It was one of the shopkeepers in Diagon Alley.”
He shook his head in disbelief. “They’re the worst team in the league. Whoever said that was taking the mickey.”
“Hey, I mean, they could rise to the top one day.”
“Ha. The sun will rise in the west if that happens.”
The compartment door slid open, and a smiling witch with dimples leaned in beside a trolley piled high with all sorts of food, mainly sweets.
“Anything from the trolley, dears?”
Cedric and I looked at each other.
“I’ve been wanting to try some wizarding sweets,” I said, reaching into my pocket. “Only got money for one thing on me right now, though.”
“Chocolate Frog. Try the Chocolate Frog,” Cedric said immediately.
“Good choice, dear,” the trolley witch said.
We each bought one. Cedric opened his with ease. I was less prepared.
The moment I lifted the lid, the frog sprang out.
I lunged forward and caught it between both hands before it could escape under the seat.
Cedric burst out laughing.
I glared at the frog. “Rude.”
“It tried to make a break for it,” I added.
“They do that. You have to be careful and eat it quickly.”
I took a bite before mine could attempt a second escape. It tasted like good chocolate. Very good chocolate.
Cedric pulled a card from his box.
“The best part is the cards,” he said. “I’ve nearly got all of them. Only missing some rare ones now.”
He turned his over, then sighed.
“Dumbledore again. That’s got to be the tenth one this year.”
I looked at mine.
A bearded man in starry-patterned robes stared back at me with sharp eyes.
“I got Merlin.”
Cedric froze.
“Really?”
I turned the card towards him.
His eyes widened. “That’s one of the rarest. I don’t have that one.”
I looked at the card again.
Merlin gazed back at me, then disappeared from it.
I held it out.
“Take it. For your collection.”
Cedric stared at me. “Really?”
“Yeah.”
“But it’s rare.”
“You’ll appreciate it more than I will.”
He took the card carefully, like I had handed him something fragile.
“Thanks,” he said, properly excited now. “Really. Thanks.”
“No problem. We’re friends now, aren’t we?”
“Yes. Yes, we are,” Cedric said happily.
I stood and stretched my legs.
“I’m going to the loo. Be right back.”
Cedric nodded, still looking at the Merlin card.
I stepped out into the corridor and slid the compartment door shut behind me.
I made my way through the carriages, one hand brushing the wall whenever the train swayed.
The corridor was busy. Students moved past me as I walked. An older student nearly walked into me while arguing with another, who I thought was his girlfriend. Two girls squeezed by in the other direction, both already in uniform, laughing about someone called Felicity, who apparently had bad acne over the summer. Somewhere ahead, a compartment door slid open and four boys spilled into the corridor, chasing a toad that had made a break for freedom.
I had barely made it two carriages before I found the corridor blocked.
Three boys stood ahead of me in Slytherin uniform. One had dark hair slicked neatly back. Another was broad for his age, with a thick neck and hands that looked too large for him. The third was the palest of the lot, with a pointed face and an expression as if he was smelling something bad.
I stopped and looked them over.
“Excuse me,” I said politely. “Could I get past?”
The dark-haired one looked me up and down. “Well, look here,” he said. “An ickle firstie.”
Oh great, I thought.
I really needed to get to the loo, and now I had to deal with these idiots.
My eyes moved past them, checking the corridor behind. Then I noticed something which gave me more confidence.
“You’re the Muggle-born, aren’t you?” the pale-faced boy asked, putting extra scorn on the word Muggle.
“Of course he is,” the broad one said. “Look at him. Dressed like that.”
The dark-haired one smirked. “Hogwarts just takes in anyone these days. Lost its prestige.”
I glanced down at my clothes, then back at them.
“Are you done? Because I really need to go.”
The pale-faced boy’s sneer sharpened. “You’ve got quite a mouth for someone who doesn’t know his place.”
“And what exactly is my place?” I asked, glancing past them again.
That confused them for half a second, as if they did not expect me to talk back. I mean, I was a Muggle-born first year. Pretty sure they expected me to cower and beg them to let me go.
I sighed and nodded at the space between them. “Look, are you three charging a toll or something? Because I really do need the loo.”
The broad one’s face slowly brightened as if the idea had just come to him.
“Yeah,” he said. “There is.”
He held out a hand.
“Pay up. I think five Galleons will do.”
I looked at his palm, then back at his face.
“Has it really gotten this bad?” I asked. “Old families like yours reduced to begging us poor Muggle-borns for a few Galleons. Tragic, really.”
The dark-haired boy’s face tightened.
The pale-faced one drew his wand.
“An uppity Mudblood,” he said. “Someone ought to teach you a lesson.”
Usually, I would not pick a fight I could not win, and this was not something I was going to win, but there was a reason why I escalated and antagonised these idiots.
A very large red-haired boy stopped right behind them. He was older, tall and broad-shouldered, with a Head Boy badge pinned to his Gryffindor uniform. Behind him stood two other students, one girl in Ravenclaw blue and the other a familiar Indian teenager.
What was his name? Yes, Rowan. I remembered.
The red-haired boy’s eyes settled on the wand in the pale-faced boy’s hand.
“Is there a problem here, Burke?”
The three Slytherins looked back.
Their confidence drained at once. The pale-faced boy put his wand away. “No problem.”
“I’ll be the judge of that,” the red-haired boy said.
His voice was calm, which somehow made it worse. He looked at me.
“Was there a problem?”
I looked at the three boys.
Then at him.
“No,” I said. “We were just talking.”
The Slytherins blinked, surprised.
The Head Boy did not look convinced, but he did not push it. “You three, go to your compartments and stay there until we reach Hogwarts.”
The Slytherins moved off, brushing past with sour looks. The pale-faced one gave me a last glance that promised this was not over.
The red-haired boy watched them go, then turned back to me.
“Are you alright?” he asked.
“Yeah, I’m fine. It’s nothing.”
“My name is William Weasley, the Head Boy this year.”
“Adrian Adler.”
“Don’t be scared to report any form of bullying to me or the other prefects. That’s why we’re here.”
I nodded.
Rowan stepped forward, smiling. “Good to see you again, Adrian.”
“Hi,” I said. “Nice to see you again.”
“Up to trouble already?”
“What can I say? It seeks me out.”
Bill coughed into his hand. “Well, since there’s no issue, I’ll leave this with you two. Eve, Rowan, keep doing the rounds. I want to check on my brothers before they scheme up something.”
He walked away down the corridor, already looking resigned to whatever his brothers might be doing.
Rowan turned back to me. “It really is good to see you again.”
“You too, Rowan.”
“Remember, we need to talk properly once we’re at school.”
“Ah,” I said. “The tablet thing.”
His eyes flicked to Eve, then back to me.
“Yes. That.”
“Sure,” I said. “But you have to do something for me. I want you to show me around the castle.”
“Deal,” Rowan said with a smile. “I hope you end up in Gryffindor, Adrian.”
Eve gave me a small, assessing look but did not speak.
I lifted a hand in goodbye and slipped past them, heading towards the loo.
As I left, I heard Eve say quietly, “So that’s him, then.”
I kept walking.
Right. There was definitely something going on.
The older students watching me at the station. Rowan and Eve on the train.
And all of it had something to do with that tablet.
=========
I spent the rest of the trip with Cedric. We played more Exploding Snap, and he taught me a lot about Quidditch. Time passed quickly.
By the time the train reached Scotland, evening had fallen. A prefect came by to tell us to change into our uniform, so we took turns stepping into the corridor and changing.
Cedric looked almost unable to sit still as we neared. “We’re nearly there,” he said, for the third time in ten minutes.
“Yeah. I think the castle should be over there. Can’t see it due to the trees,” I said as I looked out the window. The sun had fully set now.
The train finally slowed, brakes screeching softly beneath us. Steam rolled past the windows, and voices rose all along the carriages as students grabbed bags, cages, cloaks, and last-minute sweets from the trolley witch. Cedric was practically bouncing by the time we stepped into the corridor.
“First years, leave your luggage here!” someone shouted from farther ahead. “Luggage stays on the train!”
That made things easier. I checked Poe’s cage, made sure he had water, and promised him I would see him soon. He gave me a look that suggested I had better.
Cedric and I joined the flow of students leaving the train.
Cold air hit me the moment I stepped down onto the platform. It smelled of smoke, damp earth, and pine. The station was small, crowded, and noisy, with students pouring out of the train on all sides.
Then I saw Hagrid.
He was fucking big.
He stood like a beacon, calling first years to him.
“Firs’ years! Firs’ years over here!” he called, waving one enormous hand. “Come on now, firs’ years, this way!”
The first years began gathering around him. Cedric and I moved with them, along with a crowd of nervous, excited children. I glanced around and started counting.
There were more than sixty of us.
“Everyone here?” Hagrid asked, looking over us. “Right then. Follow me, an’ mind yer step. It’s a bit steep down here.”
He led us away from the station.
The path sloped downward as he led us to the shore of the lake, where boats awaited.
And beyond the water, high on the cliffs, stood Hogwarts.
Wow. That was the only thought in my mind.
Cedric, who was next to me, said his thoughts out loud. “Wow.”
I had seen pictures.
They had not prepared me.
“Four to a boat!” Hagrid called. “No more’n four!”
Cedric and I climbed into one together. Two girls joined us a moment later. One had dark hair tied back neatly and bright, curious eyes. The other had light brown hair and freckles across her nose.
“I’m Rani Patel,” the dark-haired girl said, settling carefully into the boat.
“Miriam Turner,” said the other. “Hello.”
“Cedric Diggory,” Cedric said.
“Adrian Adler.”
Rani smiled, a little nervously. “This is brilliant, isn’t it? I’m Muggle-born. It was quite a surprise when Professor Flitwick visited.”
“Oh, me too,” I said. “Muggle-born, I mean. I thought I was the only one.”
Miriam shook her head. “I’m Muggle-born too, and there’s another boy as well. Daniel Brooks. We met him on the train.”
“So four of us, then.”
The boats began to move.
The boats moved on their own as my eyes stayed fixed on the castle, which grew closer and closer. The castle seemed to pull at something inside me. It was not just awe. There was something else. A feeling I could not describe at first. A kind of warmth in my body. The closer we came, the stronger it grew.
I felt stronger. Yes, that was one way to describe it.
We reached the boathouse beneath the castle and climbed out one by one. Hagrid waited until everyone had disembarked, then led us up from the water.
There were stairs.
A lot of stairs.
They climbed from the boathouse towards the castle in a long, winding path of stone. Under normal circumstances, after a long train ride and with no dinner yet, I would have complained. At least internally.
But nobody seemed to mind much. The excitement carried us upward. Children whispered, pointed, and craned their necks to look at the castle above. Even Cedric, who had grown up hearing about Hogwarts, looked struck silent.
We finally reached the large courtyard, and Hagrid strode to the great entrance doors and pushed them open, leading us inside.
The entrance hall was enormous. Stone columns rose towards the ceiling. The walls were lined with statues of knights, witches, and wizards. Tall windows of coloured glass caught the glow from iron brackets and carved posts, spreading gold and red and green across the stone floor. Directly ahead, a broad staircase split in two and climbed left and right around the wall.
But it was the crest that caught my attention.
The Hogwarts coat of arms was set into the wall between the staircases, lit by two flaming braziers that made the lion, eagle, badger, and serpent seem to shift in the firelight. Beneath it, the motto curled across the stone.
Draco dormiens nunquam titillandus.
Never tickle a sleeping dragon.
Odd advice, but probably sound.
Hagrid led us up the stairs, where a woman waited at the top.
Professor McGonagall.
She was tall and had a severe expression on her face. Her dark hair was drawn back beneath a pointed hat, and her emerald robes fell neatly around her. Thin spectacles sat on her nose, making her expression look even sterner.
“Hagrid,” she said, greeting the groundskeeper.
“Here they are, Professor,” Hagrid replied. “The firs’ years.”
“Thank you, Hagrid.”
He nodded and lumbered away, leaving us with Professor McGonagall.
She turned her attention to us.
“Welcome to Hogwarts,” she said. “I am Professor McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress of the school and Head of the Transfiguration Department . In a few moments, you will pass through these doors and join your classmates. Before you take your seats, however, you will be sorted into your houses.”
The whispering around me quietened.
“The four houses are Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. While you are here, your house will be something like your family. You will attend classes together, share common rooms and dormitories, and earn or lose points through your conduct. At the end of the year, the house with the most points will be awarded the House Cup.”
She looked over us, and somehow it felt as if she met every eye.
“I advise you to remember that your actions reflect not only upon yourselves, but upon your house. Follow me, please.”
She turned and led us through a large door nearby.
The room on the other side was broad and high-ceilinged, though smaller than the entrance hall. Another large door stood on the far wall. To the left, four great hourglasses stood against the wall, each filled with gemstones in the colours of the houses. To the right, I could see the beginning of a large staircase, which turned sharply before vanishing toward the upper and lower levels.
“Keep moving, please,” Professor McGonagall said from the front.
We were led into the next room, a simpler chamber with suits of armour standing along both walls. Their helmets turned slightly as we entered.
Someone among us squeaked.
“Wait here,” Professor McGonagall said. “I shall return soon.”
Then she stepped through the far door and left us alone.
The room erupted into whispers.
Cedric leaned closer to me. “I wonder how they sort us.”
I looked at him, confused for half a second.
He did not know about the hat.
Of course he did not. Why would he? It was kept secret by the parents from their children. I looked at the two red-headed twins ahead of me. Those two were going to make their brother believe that he would have to fight a troll to get sorted in the future.
Before I could respond to Cedric, I noticed Rani and Miriam looking across the room.
Well, not looking. Glaring.
I followed their gaze to a pale-skinned blonde girl standing with two other girls near a suit of armour. She was dressed perfectly, her posture proud, and her expression faintly bored.
“What’s wrong?” I asked quietly to Miriam and Rani.
Rani’s mouth tightened. “She was horrid to us on the train.”
Miriam nodded. “We bumped into her by accident, and she spoke to us like we were dirt on her shoes.”
Rani folded her arms. “Said some rather hurtful things.”
“Some people aren’t very nice,” I said.
“What was her name again?” Rani asked Miriam. “Malfoy or something?”
My eyes widened.
I looked back at the blonde girl.
Malfoy?
What the fuck?
When did Draco have a sister?
Or maybe she was a cousin. That made more sense. Did Draco really have a sister? Did I forget? I mean, I did forget a lot of plot points.
My thoughts were broken when Professor McGonagall returned.
“They are ready for you.”
The whispers stopped at once.
We followed her through the doors.
Sound rolled over us first.
Hundreds of voices. The Great Hall stretched out ahead. Candles floated overhead in their hundreds, maybe thousands, suspended in the air and casting gold light over silver dishes and rows upon rows of students in their black school robes.
At the far end stood the staff table, raised slightly above the rest. Professors watched as we entered. Dumbledore was easy to spot. He sat in the centre in a high-backed golden chair. No, that was a throne. Half-moon spectacles, colourful robes, yes, that was Dumbledore alright.
Snape was easy to spot as well, though for entirely different reasons. Black robes. Greasy hair. Pale face. Expression like the whole world had personally insulted him.
Most of the first years were not looking at the staff, though.
They were looking up.
The ceiling had been enchanted to look like the night sky outside, and it was quite beautiful and distracting.
Professor McGonagall led us to the front of the hall, where a small wooden chair waited.
On it sat an old, patched hat, which began to sing as we stopped in front of it.
The song had a nice tune, and soon it ended. Professor McGonagall stood beside the chair and lifted the hat from it.
“When I call your name,” she said, voice carrying clearly through the hall, “you will step forward and sit upon the chair. I will place the hat on your head. It will sort you into your house.”
A ripple of nervous movement passed through my fellow first years.
I looked at the hat.
I wondered who would be first.
Professor McGonagall unrolled a long piece of parchment.
“Adler, Adrian.”
Oh.
I was first.
I supposed I should have expected that.
Cedric leaned toward me and murmured, “Good luck.”
“Cheers,” I whispered back.
Then I stepped forward.
The whole hall seemed to narrow as I walked. Four long tables. Hundreds of eyes. The staff table ahead. Dumbledore watching from his golden chair. McGonagall waiting with the hat in her hands.
I sat on the chair.
Professor McGonagall lowered the hat onto my head.
For half a second, nothing happened.
Then a voice spoke inside my mind.
Wait. What?
My stomach dropped.
Two minds in one head. How did this happen?
Oh no.
I went very still.
Don’t worry, lad, the hat said quickly. I’m only surprised, that’s all. I’m not going to tell anyone.
You can hear me?
Of course I can hear you. I’m in your head.
Please do not tell anyone about this.
The hat made a sound that felt like a sniff.
Really, what do you take me for? There is such a thing as hat-student confidentiality.
That’s a thing?
Oh yes. There was an incident a long time ago, a very tragic one, and after that I was given some additional enchantments. Very sensible ones, if you ask me.
Cool. That’s good. So you won’t tell Dumbledore about my... er... condition?
Certainly not. And I am offended you thought I might.
Sorry.
Apology accepted. Now then, how did this happen?
I don’t know. One day I just woke up with another set of memories.
Hm. Unusual. The hat paused, and for the first time, its voice lost some of its amusement. But listen carefully, lad. You are carrying some dangerous knowledge in your head, and there are ways others can learn of it.
I went still.
There are ways for skilled witches and wizards to enter minds. To read surface thoughts. To view your memories. To search deeper for secrets if they know what they are doing.
Er, what was it called... Legilimency.
Yes, the hat said. The mind arts. Learn them. Occlumency especially. If you mean to keep all that knowledge yours, and yours alone. Secrets are only useful while they remain secret.
I swallowed.
Right. That was another thing I had nearly forgotten. Dumbledore. Snape. Voldemort. They were skilled at the mind arts. My future knowledge was not safe just because I kept my mouth shut.
You understand, then.
I think so.
Good. Remember it.
Thank you for the warning.
You are welcome. Now, let me sort you.
I felt the hat shift through my thoughts.
Oh, the hat said. Quite ambitious, aren’t we? You want power. Wealth too. A proper place in the world. Understandable, considering the life you have had.
I said nothing.
And curious. Very curious. You want to know everything. Magic beyond the isles. You wish to travel... eh, what is this? The moon?
Hey, a man can dream, right?
I felt the hat pause.
That is new.
Really? No other wizard has thought of going to the moon?
Not to my knowledge.
That seems like a severe lack of imagination.
It does somewhat.
The hat continued, considering.
Brave as well. Reckless in places. Kind too, when you let yourself be.
So, the hat said. What about Slytherin?
Ha. You’re joking.
The hat chuckled in my mind.
I was.
Good. Do not put me in Ravenclaw either.
No?
I do not want to answer a riddle every time I enter the common room.
I told Rowena that was stupid too, but she never took my advice. She did have quite an ego.
That nearly made me laugh aloud.
Hufflepuff or Gryffindor, then.
Before I could answer, I became aware of the hall again.
The silence.
The waiting.
Professor McGonagall made a quiet sound beside me, not quite a cough, but close.
Every eye in the Great Hall was on me.
How long have we been talking?
Long enough.
Then maybe hurry up.
Yes, yes. Better be...
The hat opened its mouth wide.
“GRYFFINDOR!”