The first-years clustered around Hagrid like nervous ducklings, many craning their necks upward in astonishment. Vale noticed several students whispering behind their hands, eyes wide with a mixture of fear and fascination.
Meanwhile, Hannah seemed particularly impressed, mouth slightly agape as she took in Hagrid's enormous frame.
"Is he... is he a giant?" someone whispered nearby.
Vale observed Hagrid with clinical interest, mentally comparing the real figure to his expectations. The gamekeeper was indeed imposing—nearly twice the height of a normal man and several times as broad—but there was a gentleness in his beetle-black eyes that Vale hadn't anticipated.
Hagrid led them down a narrow path toward the shore of a vast, dark lake. The surface reflected the starry sky above, creating the illusion that they were about to step into the cosmos itself.
"No more'n four to a boat!" Hagrid gestured toward a fleet of small boats sitting in the water.
The kids filtered themselves onto the creaking, moist floorboards. Hurried and haphazard at times.
Seeing this, Hagrid's voice boomed.
"Everyone in? Right then—FORWARD!"
As the first-years scrambled to find seats having just boarded their respective boats, Hagrid's voice softened. He looked over the group with unmistakable fondness.
"Crossin' the lake's a bit of a tradition, yeh know," he explained, helping a particularly small girl into a boat. "Been the way of it since the founders' time. It's a proper rite o' passage before yeh enter Hogwarts for the first time."
The boats glided forward of their own accord, and Vale watched as Hagrid beamed at their collective gasps of wonder. The gamekeeper seemed to take genuine pleasure in their reactions, as if experiencing the magic of Hogwarts anew through their eyes.
Luckily, just moments before.
Vale, Neville, and Hannah had successfully made their way to an empty boat, the wooden hull rocking gently against the shore. A small, mousy-haired boy with prominent ears followed them hesitantly.
"Room for one more?" he asked, his voice barely audible over the excited chatter of the other first-years.
Hannah smiled warmly. "Of course!"
Vale had stepped in first, testing the boat's stability before extending a hand to help Hannah aboard.
Neville nearly tumbled into the water but managed to right himself at the last moment, face flushed with embarrassment. The fourth student slipped in quietly, introducing himself as Stephen Cornfoot with a nervous half-smile that disappeared as quickly as it came.
As their boat drifted away from shore, the mist parted like a theatre curtain, revealing Hogwarts in its full splendour. Even Vale, despite seeing the movies, gasped.
The castle stood silhouetted against the night sky, hundreds of windows blazing with golden light, towers and turrets reaching toward the stars of dusk.
The sight commanded silence; even Hannah's steady stream of commentary dried up.
Vale's eyes narrowed slightly as he studied the castle's architecture. His gaze traced the outline of the Astronomy Tower, noting its height advantage over the grounds.
He identified the various wings, mentally cataloging potential entry and exit points, places to hide, vantage points for observation. All the while, his face maintained an expression of appropriate wonder, indistinguishable from the genuine awe of his companions.
The water rippled beside their boat, something large displacing the surface without breaking it. Hannah gasped, clutching Neville's arm.
"What was that?" Stephen whispered, leaning dangerously far over the edge.
"Probably just the wind," Vale said, though he knew better. 'That damn giant squid, huh?'
Their boats glided into a dark tunnel, eventually reaching a small, torch-lit harbour carved into the rock beneath the castle. Hagrid helped each student disembark, his enormous hands surprisingly gentle as he steadied the more wobbly first-years.
"Everyone still got all their fingers and toes?" Hagrid chuckled, counting heads. "Right then, follow me."
They climbed a stone pathway that wound upward through the rock, emerging onto a smooth lawn in the shadow of the castle. The night air carried the scent of ancient stone and damp earth, cool against Vale's skin. Around him, excited whispers created a constant, nervous hum.
The massive oak doors swung open. Professor McGonagall stood framed in the entranceway, her emerald-green robes catching the light from within. Her stern gaze swept over the assembled students, instantly quieting the chatter.
"Welcome to Hogwarts," she said, her Scottish accent crisp in the night air. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats, you will be sorted into your houses."
As McGonagall explained the importance of the Sorting ceremony and the house system, Vale watched her closely. She revealed nothing about the nature of the Sorting itself, maintaining an air of mystery that clearly unnerved many of his peers.
They were led into a small antechamber off the Great Hall. Through the walls came the muffled sounds of hundreds of voices, laughter, and the clinking of utensils. Students huddled in small groups, whispering theories about what awaited them.
"My brothers said we have to wrestle a troll," a red-headed boy was saying.
Vale remained apart, observing. He noted which students seemed confident, which seemed terrified, which seemed to know each other already. His cataloging was interrupted when several pearly-white figures drifted through the wall, deep in conversation.
—AHH!
A girl screamed, and Vale watched as the Hogwarts ghosts made their entrance, causing a ripple of shock through the first-years.
Vale observed the ghosts' theatrical entrance with detached interest. He recognised several—Nearly Headless Nick, the Fat Friar, the Grey Lady—and noted how they feigned surprise at finding first-years in the chamber, despite surely knowing the school's schedule.
'…Mischievous bastards,' he stifled a chuckle, still a bit wary of being scolded by the Professor.
"Move along now," Professor McGonagall's voice cut through the commotion. "The Sorting Ceremony is about to begin."
She led them through the double doors into the Great Hall.
Vale had mentally prepared himself for this moment, but the reality still made him pause mid-step.
"…Whoa,"
The hall stretched before them, four long tables filled with students in black robes, their faces turned expectantly toward the newcomers. Golden plates and goblets gleamed in the light of thousands of candles floating in midair beneath a ceiling that perfectly mirrored the night sky outside—velvety black and scattered with stars.
"It's bewitched to look like the sky outside," whispered a bushy-haired girl somewhere behind Vale. "I read about it in Hogwarts: A History."
It seemed like a certain Miss Know-It-All was already going about her chores.
Vale's gaze shifted to the High Table where the teachers sat. Dumbledore was at the center, his silver beard and half-moon spectacles catching the candlelight. Snape sat several seats away, watching the first-years with his usual cold indifference.
"…"
Their eyes met briefly, and Vale carefully maintained his expression of appropriate wonder.
At the front of the hall stood a three-legged stool. Professor McGonagall placed a patched, frayed, and extremely dirty pointed hat upon it. The hat twitched, a rip near the brim opening wide like a mouth, and it began to sing:
"Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,
But don't judge on what you see,
I'll eat myself if you can find
A smarter hat than me..."
The hat sang of the four houses and their virtues—brave Gryffindor, loyal Hufflepuff, wise Ravenclaw, and cunning Slytherin.
But Vale noticed something else in the lyrics, subtle warnings about unity and vigilance that seemed out of place for what should have been a celebratory occasion.
"...For Hogwarts is in danger
From external, deadly foes
And we must unite inside her
Or we'll crumble from within..."
When the hat finished, the hall burst into applause.
Vale clapped mechanically, his mind racing. The hat seemed to be hinting at coming trials—perhaps sensing the darkness that Vale himself represented, or simply foreseeing the conflicts that would soon engulf the wizarding world.
Professor McGonagall stepped forward holding a long roll of parchment.
"When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted," she said. "Abbott, Hannah!"
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