“GRYFFINDOR!”
The Hat shouted the name to the whole hall.
Professor McGonagall lifted it from my head, and the Gryffindor table erupted into applause. The other three houses joined in more politely, though the Slytherins were the least involved.
I rose from the chair. A good number of people were staring at me. That was probably what happened when the Sorting Hat spent several minutes holding a private conversation with the first student of the year.
I found Cedric among the waiting first years and gave him a smile and a nod as I passed. He returned both.
Then I made my way to the Gryffindor table.
I sat beside a red-haired boy I was fairly sure was Percy Weasley. He looked about thirteen, with neatly combed hair and a serious expression.
He immediately reached towards me and shook my hand.
“Percy Weasley.”
That confirmed it.
“Adrian Adler. Nice to meet you.”
“Welcome to Gryffindor.”
Before I had properly settled in, two girls and another boy nearby introduced themselves and shook my hand as well. Their names passed by too quickly for me to remember all of them. Everyone seemed to be speaking at once.
“First person sorted this year.”
“The Hat took ages.”
“Was that a Hatstall?”
A girl across from Percy glanced at one of the older students. “How long does it have to take before it counts?”
“Five minutes, usually,” someone answered.
Percy adjusted his robes and looked towards me. “Yours took about six.”
Six minutes?
Had the Hat and I really been talking that long?
I glanced back towards the chair. Professor McGonagall had already called the next name, but several students were still looking at me rather than watching the Sorting.
Hatstall. So that was what they called it when the Hat took too long.
My eyes moved towards the Slytherin table. The three older boys from the train were sitting together, and all three were glaring at me. The pale one in particular looked as though he had spent the journey inventing creative ways to make my life unpleasant.
I gave him a small smile.
His expression worsened.
Good.
Farther along the same table, I spotted the short-haired girl from the platform. She sat beside another girl dressed entirely in black, with dark makeup. The short-haired girl was probably one of Rowan’s friends. It had to be connected to the tablet. I could not think of any other reason older students would keep staring at a first year they had never met.
The whole matter sat at the back of my mind, a small but persistent source of unease. Rowan had seemed friendly enough, but I still had no idea what the tablet was, why only I could see it glowing, or what he and his friends thought that meant.
The Sorting continued.
“Bellamy, Thomas!”
A boy with dark hair, an open face, and a friendly smile stepped forward. The Hat placed him in Gryffindor after less than a minute, and he came to sit opposite me.
We looked at one another.
He smiled awkwardly.
I smiled back with equal awkwardness.
That seemed to complete the required first interaction between strangers.
After that, the names began to blur together. I paid attention whenever someone I recognised stepped forward, but there were more than sixty first years, and most of them meant nothing to me yet.
“Diggory, Cedric!”
Cedric sat on the stool. The Hat barely took a minute before shouting, “HUFFLEPUFF!”
He smiled as the Hufflepuff table applauded. Before sitting down, he found me across the hall and gave a small wave.
I returned it.
Rani Patel and Miriam Turner joined him soon afterwards. Daniel Brooks, the other Muggle-born we had met on the train, followed them into Hufflepuff as well.
That meant every other Muggle-born I knew had gone to Hufflepuff.
A few names stirred memories from the books. Roger Davies went to Ravenclaw, looking pleased with the result. Fred and George Weasley were both sent to Gryffindor, which surprised absolutely no one at the table. Percy applauded them with the tense expression of someone realising that his quiet school life was over.
Then Professor McGonagall called a name that caught my full attention.
“Malfoy, Lyra!”
The pale blonde girl Rani and Miriam had spoken about walked forward with complete confidence.
She had the same pointed features as Draco, the same pale hair, and the same cold grey eyes. Her robes were perfectly fitted, her posture was straight, and she wore the same cold expression as before.
The Hat barely touched her head.
“SLYTHERIN!”
The green-and-silver table applauded loudly.
Lyra Malfoy removed the Hat, handed it back to Professor McGonagall, and walked towards the Slytherin table.
So she really was a Malfoy.
That still did not tell me whether she was Draco’s sister, cousin, or some other relative.
“That is Lucius Malfoy’s daughter,” Percy said quietly.
I looked towards him.
He was speaking to the girl opposite us, who had asked much the same question.
Damn.
That was a major change.
Draco had an older sister.
It was not the sort of detail I could have forgotten from the books. Lyra Malfoy had not existed. I was certain of that.
Which meant this world was not exactly the one I remembered.
I watched Lyra sit among the Slytherins while the older students welcomed her. Several appeared to know her already.
By the time the Sorting ended, Gryffindor had gained twelve new students.
Thomas Bellamy.
Fred and George Weasley.
Lee Jordan.
Angelina Johnson.
Alicia Spinnet.
Kenneth Towler.
Ewan MacFusty.
Rhiannon Price.
Callie Fenwick.
Judith Robins.
And me.
From what I could count, we had received the fewest first years. Hufflepuff had twenty-three, Ravenclaw had fifteen, and Slytherin had eighteen.
The last student was placed in Slytherin to polite applause from most of the hall and a much louder welcome from the green-and-silver table.
Professor McGonagall rolled up her parchment, made the chair disappear, and carried the Sorting Hat away.
Noise rose the moment the Sorting ended.
Older students resumed conversations interrupted by the ceremony, while the newly sorted first years began introducing themselves properly.
Opposite me, Tom Bellamy seemed overwhelmed by the number of people packed around him. His eyes moved from face to face as he tried to follow several conversations at once.
Angelina Johnson had sat down beside me and held out her hand.
We shook hands and introduced ourselves.
On my other side, Percy sat with his back straight and his expression already strained. Fred and George were whispering to one another farther down the table, occasionally glancing towards him and sniggering. Percy glared back, silently warning them not to try whatever they were planning.
They responded with matching innocent smiles.
At the staff table, Albus Dumbledore stood.
The Hall quietened almost immediately.
My attention went to him with everyone else’s.
“Welcome,” Dumbledore said, spreading his arms. “Welcome to another year at Hogwarts.”
His voice was not especially loud, yet it carried easily through the enormous hall.
“To our new students, I offer my congratulations. You have each found a house tonight, though I hope you will remember that Hogwarts itself is now your home as well.”
I glanced along the Gryffindor table.
Fred was whispering something into George’s ear. Lee Jordan was staring at the enchanted ceiling as though he expected something to fall out of it. Angelina seemed more interested in Dumbledore’s bright robes than his words. Tom was looking at the empty serving dishes with growing concern, as if worried that the school had forgotten dinner.
Dumbledore smiled.
“I believe lengthy speeches are best appreciated after one has eaten. Therefore, for the moment, I shall restrict myself to two words.”
He raised his hands slightly.
“Good eating.”
The golden platters filled all at once.
My eyes widened.
Roast beef appeared beside whole chickens and heaps of sausages. Bowls filled with potatoes, carrots, peas, and other vegetables. Fresh bread appeared alongside gravy boats, pies, stews, and several dishes I could not name.
Conversation exploded around us as everyone reached for the food.
Angelina stared at the platters and laughed in amazement.
“Did the headmaster make all that?” Rhiannon Price asked from farther along the table.
Ewan MacFusty gave her a look. “You can’t create food from nothing,” he said. “It’s one of the principal exceptions to Gamp’s Law of Elemental Transfiguration. Food can be summoned, moved, increased, or altered, but it cannot simply be created.”
Rhiannon blinked at him.
“Oh.”
“It was probably prepared by the house-elves,” Ewan continued. “My family has several. Very useful creatures, if properly managed.”
He went on to explain how many his family owned and what sort of work they performed.
I had a feeling I was not going to like him.
I helped myself to chicken, potatoes, and peas. It had been a long day, but I kept the meal reasonably light. The food was excellent, better than anything the Hargraves usually served, and hot enough that steam rose from the potatoes when I broke them apart.
The older students around us spoke about Quidditch teams, Hogsmeade weekends, new subjects that year, and places I had never heard of. Being the only Muggle-born at this end of the table made it difficult to join in without asking a question every thirty seconds.
I mostly listened.
A few minutes into the meal, I was reaching for another chicken leg when a head rose through the middle of the table.
Tom nearly screamed.
Angelina actually did.
She jerked backwards so quickly that her elbow struck my goblet, sending water across the table.
“Easy, lass,” the ghost said. “No need for alarm.”
He floated the rest of the way through the table, dressed in old-fashioned clothes with a large ruff around his neck. Then he bowed deeply.
“Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington, at your service.”
“Nearly Headless Nick,” one of the older students corrected cheerfully.
Tom stared at him.
“How can someone be nearly headless?” Angelina asked.
Nick looked delighted to have been asked.
“Like this.”
He pulled at his left ear.
His head fell sideways and hung from his neck by a narrow strip of ghostly skin.
I laughed.
Angelina’s eyes widened in horror.
“Oh, that is horrible.”
Nick pulled his head upright again and adjusted his ruff with wounded dignity.
“I prefer impressive.”
The rest of the main course passed, and dessert appeared. Treacle tart, apple pie, chocolate pudding, rice pudding, ice cream, and bowls of fruit covered the tables. The smell alone made several first years sit up straighter after that enormous meal.
I told myself I did not need anything else.
Then I saw the chocolate pudding.
I took some anyway.
At last, the desserts disappeared as well. The serving dishes emptied, every plate became perfectly clean, and Albus Dumbledore rose once more.
The Hall gradually settled.
“Now that we are all somewhat less distracted,” he said, “I have several notices.”
His expression became more serious.
“First, students are reminded that the Forbidden Forest is forbidden to all pupils. The name is intended as an instruction rather than an invitation.”
Several older students laughed.
“Second, Mr Filch, our caretaker, has asked me to remind you that magic is not to be used in the corridors between classes. He has also provided a list of objects prohibited within the castle. The complete list may be viewed in his office.”
Fred and George exchanged interested looks.
“Before I continue,” Dumbledore said, “I am pleased to introduce Professor Patricia Rakepick, who will be teaching Defence Against the Dark Arts this year.”
A red-haired woman rose from the staff table. She looked to be somewhere in her thirties, with sharp features, straight shoulders, and dark red robes fastened neatly at the throat. Her eyes moved across the Hall before she offered the students a brief smile.
The Hall applauded, and I joined in.
Patricia Rakepick.
Hopefully, she would not turn out to be evil or something, I joked to myself.
Professor Rakepick gave Dumbledore a polite nod before sitting down.
“Finally, several portions of the castle remain closed following the events of previous years. They are not to be entered under any circumstances.”
The mood in the Hall changed.
The older students became still. Conversations stopped, and even Fred and George turned their full attention towards the staff table.
What had happened here?
“These restrictions exist for your protection,” Dumbledore continued. “The opening of the Vaults has already brought enough danger to Hogwarts. Curiosity, while admirable in moderation, will not protect you from the dangers within them.”
Vaults?
I had thought Hogwarts was mostly normal before Harry’s first year. As normal as a magical castle filled with ghosts, moving staircases, and murderous plants could be, anyway.
Apparently not.
Vaults were being opened, and dangerous things were coming out of them.
My thoughts immediately went to Rowan and his glowing tablet.
That had to be what he and his friends were investigating. Whatever symbols I had seen must have been connected to these Vaults.
“Any student who discovers unusual magical activity should inform a professor immediately,” Dumbledore said.
Right.
I was sure every curious teenager in the castle would follow that instruction perfectly.
“With that unpleasantness addressed,” Dumbledore continued, smiling once more, “I wish you all an excellent year.”
He returned to his seat.
The Hall filled with noise again.
I looked towards the older Gryffindors and found Rowan among them. His gaze met mine. He raised a hand in greeting, and I waved back.
Then I searched the Ravenclaw table until I spotted Eve Sinclair. She was already speaking quietly to another girl. She glanced towards Rowan before turning away.
There was definitely something going on.
A few minutes later, Charlie Weasley and a girl called Daphne Smith gathered the Gryffindor first years together.
“First years, follow us,” Charlie called. “Stay together, please. The staircases are confusing enough without anyone wandering off on the first night.”
We left the Great Hall in a loose group and followed them through the castle.
I found myself walking beside Tom Bellamy. Since we had exchanged little more than awkward smiles at the table, I decided to introduce myself properly.
“I’m Adrian Adler.”
“Tom Bellamy.”
We shook hands as we walked.
“Are you Muggle-born too?” I asked.
“Half-blood,” he said. “Mum’s Muggle-born. Dad’s a wizard.”
“Oh, that’s nice. I heard you talking about football with Lee Jordan, so I thought...”
Tom smiled. “Oh, are you a fan?”
“Of course.”
He brightened immediately. “Thank God. Most wizards don’t care about Muggle sports. Mum’s family love football, so I grew up watching it.”
“I’m glad too. I seem to be the only Muggle-born in our year.”
“At least you’ve got someone to talk about football with now.”
“Exactly.”
A moment earlier, I had overheard Lee complaining that Ferguson needed to be sacked before he completely ruined Manchester United. Tom had agreed with him, which was complete bollocks. In a few years, Ferguson and United were going to dominate English football.
“So, where are you from?” Tom asked.
“Leicester.”
“Oh.”
I looked at him. “What?”
“Nothing.”
“Where are you from?”
“Nottingham.”
It was my turn to pause.
“Ah.”
We stared at one another for a second.
“I suppose that makes us rivals, then,” Tom said.
“Not really. Leicester’s greatest rival at the moment is Leicester.”
Tom stared at me, then burst out laughing loudly enough to earn looks from several students ahead of us.
“We’ll reach the top one day,” I said. “You just watch.”
“Leicester?”
“Of course.”
He gave me a deeply doubtful look. “The top of what?”
“The league.”
That made him laugh harder.
“The Second Division, maybe.”
“Oh, we’re going right to the top. You’ll see.”
Tom shook his head, still smiling. “Forest have actually won things, you know.”
“Yes, yes. The league. European Cups. Ancient history.”
“It was ten years ago!”
“Like I said. Ancient.”
After that, conversation became easy.
We followed the prefects through corridors lined with portraits, suits of armour, and windows overlooking grounds that were almost entirely dark. Several staircases moved while we were crossing them. One swung away from the landing we wanted just before Charlie reached it, forcing him to lead us along another corridor.
“Get used to that,” he said. “The staircases have opinions.”
Eventually, we stopped before a large portrait of a plump woman in a pink dress. She looked down at us from inside an ornate frame, one eyebrow raised.
Charlie turned to face the group.
“This is the entrance to Gryffindor Tower. The portrait opens only when you give the correct password. It changes throughout the year, so pay attention when a prefect announces a new one, and don’t write it somewhere a Slytherin can find it.”
“The password is ‘dragon’s heart’,” Charlie said.
The Fat Lady inclined her head.
“Accepted.”
Her portrait swung forwards, revealing a short passage through the wall. It was narrow enough that taller students would have to bow their heads while passing through.
We climbed through one after another.
The Gryffindor common room waited on the other side.
It was round, warm, and comfortable, filled with squashy armchairs and low tables. A fire burned in the large stone fireplace, spreading heat through the room. Red and gold hangings covered the walls, and tall windows overlooked the dark grounds outside. Bookshelves stood in several corners, along with noticeboards already crowded with old announcements.
It felt like home, something I had never truly known before, yet somehow recognised the moment I entered.
“This is the common room,” Charlie said once everyone had entered. “You can study here, spend your free time here, or meet before going to meals and classes. Keep it tidy. The house-elves clean the room, but that doesn’t mean you should treat the place like a rubbish heap.”
Fred and George exchanged a look.
Charlie noticed.
“That applies particularly to you two.”
“We haven’t done anything,” Fred said.
“Yet,” George added.
Charlie sighed.
“Notices will be placed on the board near the fireplace. Check it every morning. Your class timetables should arrive at breakfast on Monday. If you get lost, ask a prefect, a professor, or a portrait that looks reasonably trustworthy. Do not ask Peeves for directions.”
“Who’s Peeves?” Judith Robins asked.
“You’ll know when you meet him,” Charlie said. “Unfortunately.”
Daphne Smith gathered the girls and led them towards a staircase on the left side of the room. Charlie took the seven boys towards another staircase on the right.
The stairs curved upwards through the tower until we reached a round wooden door.
Charlie pushed it open.
Inside, a house-elf stood on one of the beds, snapping its fingers rapidly. Two additional beds appeared along the curved wall as the room expanded around them. The stones stretched apart without cracking, and the ceiling rose slightly to make more space. Two trunks materialised at the foot of the new beds.
“Oh, the students be here!” the elf squeaked. “Hurry now, Mobsy. Hurry!”
It snapped its fingers again, and red curtains appeared around the last bed.
“Ah,” Ewan said. “We get our own house-elf. Good.”
Kenneth Towler nodded as though that sounded perfectly reasonable.
Charlie looked at them.
“No. I believe Mobsy was only expanding the dormitory because there are seven of you this year.”
Ewan’s face reddened.
Mobsy bowed quickly and vanished with a sharp crack. It then reappeared beside the final bed to straighten a pillow before disappearing again.
The dormitory was round, with seven four-poster beds arranged along the walls. Each had deep red curtains and clean white sheets. Our luggage had already arrived and was stacked nearby. Poe sat inside one of the cages.
He hooted when he saw me.
Charlie pointed towards a door near the back of the room.
“The washroom’s through there. Keep your own things organised. Your robes should be ready before breakfast, and don’t leave your wands lying around.”
“Since tomorrow is Saturday, you’ve got the weekend to settle in before lessons begin on Monday,” Charlie continued. “I’ll be in the common room at eight tomorrow morning to lead anyone who needs help to breakfast. After that, you’re free to explore the parts of the castle open to students, provided you have another prefect or older student with you.”
He paused at the door.
“Get some sleep.”
We nodded.
Before leaving, Charlie winked at Fred and George.
They smiled back with identical expressions that promised nothing good.
The door closed behind him.
For a moment, the seven of us stood looking at one another.
I decided to get the awkward part over with.
“I’m Adrian. Adrian Adler.”
“Lee Jordan,” said the dark-skinned boy.
“Ewan MacFusty,” Ewan said with a formal nod.
“Kenneth Towler.”
Tom gave a small wave from beside his trunk. “Tom Bellamy.”
Then the twins stepped forward together.
“I’m Fred,” said the one on the left.
“And I’m George,” said the one on the right.
“No, I’m Fred.”
“And I’m George.”
I stared at them.
“I’m going to call both of you Gred and Forge until I figure out which is which.”
Fred and George grinned.
“We like you, Adler,” they said at the same time.
My God, that was going to take some getting used to.
I looked around the dormitory and found our trunks stacked neatly against the curved wall.
Mine was easy to recognise. The corners were already scuffed from the journey, and a small label bearing my name had been tied to one of the handles. I dragged it towards the bed beside the window, along with Poe’s cage.
Ewan stepped into my path.
“I’ve already chosen that bed,” he said. “You can take the one at the end.”
I looked at him, then at the bed.
It had a clear view of the grounds, sat closest to the window, and was far enough from the washroom that I would not have to listen to everyone stumbling in and out during the night.
I walked past him and placed my trunk at its foot.
Ewan stared at me. “Didn’t you hear me?”
“I did. I ignored you.”
His face tightened.
“I like this spot,” I continued. “I plan to sleep here for the entire year. Does anyone else have a problem with that?”
I looked around the room.
Tom shook his head. “No. I’ll take the one next to you.”
He dragged his trunk towards the bed on my right.
Lee chose the bed to my left. Fred and George immediately claimed the two beside his, tossing their things down before anyone could object.
Ewan looked at all of us with a deepening frown. Then he huffed and crossed to the other side of the room.
Kenneth followed him without saying anything.
Good.
Dominance established.
We began putting away our things. The wardrobes beside each bed were narrow but deep, with enough space for our robes, spare clothes, and school supplies. My books went onto the shelf beside my bed. I placed the wand box inside the top drawer, though I kept the wand itself close.
Fred and George had brought several things that did not appear on the Hogwarts supply list.
Small paper packets. Bits of wire. Bottles filled with coloured liquids. A box that gave a faint rattle whenever one of them moved it.
I was fairly certain most of it was meant for pranks.
Considering what the twins would become known for, I was probably witnessing the early stages of a very successful business.
Tom closed his wardrobe and sat on his bed.
“What was the headmaster talking about?” he asked. “The Vaults and all those dangerous parts of the castle. I thought Hogwarts was supposed to be the safest place in Britain.”
“It is,” Ewan said before anyone else could answer. “My mother says Dumbledore lost his marbles years ago.”
Lee turned towards him. “He’s Dumbledore. He’s the greatest wizard alive.”
“That doesn’t mean he hasn’t gone mad.”
They began arguing.
I looked towards Fred and George.
“You two have brothers who’ve been here for years. Do you know what Dumbledore meant?”
The twins exchanged a glance.
“Oh, yes,” Fred said.
“The school’s cursed,” George added.
Tom’s eyes widened. “What?”
George nodded gravely. “Very cursed.”
Lee forgot his argument with Ewan and leaned forward. “What do you mean, cursed?”
“The Vaults,” Fred said.
“The Cursed Vaults,” George added.
“Cursed Vaults,” I repeated.
“Five of them,” Fred said.
“Maybe six,” George corrected.
Fred frowned at him. “Charlie said five.”
“Percy said there might be more.”
“What exactly are these Vaults?” I asked.
The twins exchanged another look.
“Well,” Fred began, “there was one full of ice.”
“Froze half the school,” George said.
“Three corridors,” Fred corrected.
“You just told us it froze half the school,” Ewan said.
Kenneth nodded beside him.
I glanced at Kenneth. He had barely spoken since we entered the dormitory. Perhaps he was shy. Or perhaps agreeing with Ewan required all his available energy.
“That was for dramatic effect,” George said.
Tom stared at them. “Did it actually freeze anyone?”
“Definitely,” Fred answered.
“Probably,” George said at the same time.
They looked at each other.
“Bill said some students got frozen,” George explained. “Frozen where they stood.”
“For a while,” Fred added.
Lee shifted closer, completely invested now. “What about the other Vaults?”
“One made everyone’s worst fears come alive,” Fred said.
“Boggarts everywhere,” George added. “In corridors, classrooms, cupboards.”
“Percy found one in the prefects’ bathroom.”
Tom looked horrified and fascinated at the same time.
“And then there was the sleepwalking curse,” George continued. “Students got out of bed in the middle of the night and walked into the Forbidden Forest.”
“They just walked into the Forest?” Tom asked. “The one that’s forbidden?”
I looked from one twin to the other.
“How is this place still open?” I muttered to myself, considering how much crazier things would become when Harry arrived.
The Philosopher’s Stone hidden beneath the school. The basilisk. Sirius Black breaking in. The Triwizard Tournament. Umbridge. Death Eaters invading the castle.
I had always thought those events were extraordinary.
Apparently, Hogwarts attracting mysteries, curses, and attempts at murder was a regular occurrence.
Fred lowered his voice.
“The last Vault had a dragon.”
That caught Ewan’s attention.
“What kind?”
“A Norwegian Ridgeback,” Fred said confidently.
Ewan frowned. “Those are dangerous. My family works in dragon breeding and preservation. Ridgebacks are among the more aggressive European breeds. Their venom is particularly valuable, though the collection process requires specialised equipment and properly trained handlers.”
He continued describing the family business in enough detail to make it clear that he had been waiting all evening for a chance to mention it.
George ignored Ewan and carried on.
“There was also a portrait.”
“A cursed portrait,” Fred said.
“Someone got trapped inside it.”
“For years.”
“Wow,” I said.
This was a lot to take in.
“That’s all we know,” Fred admitted. “Bill and Charlie don’t tell us much.”
“Which means they definitely know more,” George said.
“And they were probably involved.”
“Bill especially.”
All of this explained Rowan and his friends. I supposed I would find out more soon.
We talked for a while longer, trading guesses about what the remaining Vaults might contain. Fred suggested treasure. George suggested an army of cursed suits of armour. Lee thought one might hide a legendary broom. Tom asked whether there could be another dragon.
A knock sounded against the dormitory door.
“Lights out, boys!” an older student called.
The footsteps moved away.
I closed my trunk and looked around at the others.
“We should explore the castle tomorrow.”
“And Sunday,” George added.
“Two days,” Fred said. “Plenty of time to see all of it.”
Ewan looked over from his bed. “The prefects told us not to wander around without escorts during the first week.”
“I’m going,” I said. “Who’s with me?”
Fred raised his hand.
George followed.
Lee agreed immediately, and Tom nodded after a moment.
“I’d like to see the castle,” Tom said.
“I have a friend in sixth year,” I added. “He said he’d show me around.”
Ewan gave a disbelieving laugh. “No, you don’t.”
Lee looked at him. “How would you know?”
“He’s Muggle-born,” Ewan said. “How could he already know a sixth year?”
I turned towards him.
“What’s your problem, mate?”
“My problem is that you’re going to get everyone into trouble.”
“And that,” Fred said, “is why we like him.”
George nodded. “He has potential.”
I kept my eyes on Ewan.
“Well, this Muggle-born knows more people than you think, MacFusty.”
He huffed and pulled the curtains around his bed closed.
Kenneth followed his example without saying a word.
The rest of us changed into our nightclothes and climbed into bed. Fred and George continued whispering after the lamps dimmed, though they eventually fell silent. Tom and Lee fell asleep as well.
Poe slept on his perch beside the window, his head tucked beneath one wing.
I lay awake beneath the red curtains, staring into the darkness.
I was too excited to sleep.
I was at Hogwarts.
Eventually, exhaustion caught up with my excitement.
My eyes closed.
Tomorrow, I would see Hogwarts properly.