Chapter 39 – First Impressions of Hogwarts
The door to the train compartment slid open with a loud clack, and the rush of excited first-years poured out into the chilly evening air of the Scottish Highlands. Thomas stepped down onto the platform, feeling the sudden bite of the wind as it tugged at the edges of his robes. The scent of pine trees and cold mist greeted him, and with it, a thrill of anticipation. Hogwarts was near.
Fred and George flanked him as they joined the flow of students, their steps quick and light, voices bouncing with fresh energy after the long ride.
"So," Thomas asked, eyes scanning the rocky path ahead, "do you know which houses your brothers were sorted into?"
Fred grinned. "All Gryffindor. Every single one."
"Yep," George added. "Mum would probably faint if one of us ended up in Slytherin."
"Or worse," Fred chimed in, feigning horror. "She'd make us live in the garden shed with the gnomes."
Thomas laughed. "That bad, huh?"
"Terribly tragic," George said, putting a dramatic hand over his heart. "But if we do end up somewhere else, imagine the prank value. The whole family—bam!—united under one banner... until the twins broke the streak."
"And then," Fred added, "we'd be legends."
"Or disowned," George finished cheerfully.
They walked together in easy camaraderie, and then Thomas's gaze was drawn forward. A massive figure stood in the distance, waving a lantern the size of a cauldron.
"That's him," George whispered. "That's Hagrid."
Thomas blinked. "He's huge."
"Taller than any tree I've ever climbed," Fred said. "But our brothers say he's gentle. Kind of like a giant teddy bear... with a beard and a pink umbrella."
Thomas nodded slowly, lips twitching. There was something oddly comforting about Hagrid's presence despite his intimidating size. He didn't feel afraid—only curious.
"This way, first-years!" Hagrid's voice boomed across the mist. "Follow me—boats are waitin'!"
The crowd of new students shuffled after him toward the shore of the great lake. The water stretched out into the darkness, shimmering faintly under the moonlight. Dozens of small boats lined the edge, each able to carry four.
Fred, George, and Thomas paused near the end of the line.
"Let's grab this one," Fred said, motioning to an empty boat near the far right.
Thomas stepped in first, careful to keep balance, followed by the twins. No fourth joined them, and soon Hagrid called, "No more'n four to a boat!" then gave a nod of approval when he saw theirs was still under the limit.
As the boats began to glide over the water, Thomas's fingers twitched. He focused briefly, activating Echo.
And what he saw startled him.
Beneath the black surface of the lake, movement stirred. Schools of fish darted in formation—some long and sleek, others fat and round—but what caught his attention were the larger shapes deeper below. One enormous shadow moved with grace, tentacles trailing behind like underwater curtains.
A giant squid? Thomas wondered.
Then, further to the left, he glimpsed pale shapes, humanoid but wrong. Their faces were sharp, their eyes eerie. Legs kicked like swimmers, but they moved unnaturally fast. Merpeople? Or something close?
In the shadows were smaller creatures with gnarled limbs and jagged mouths—almost like goblins, but with more teeth. He thought he'd seen their likeness in Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them.
Grindylows...
His eyes widened. This lake wasn't just water—it was a world of its own.
He was still marveling at it when Fred jabbed him in the shoulder.
"Oi!" Fred whispered, pointing.
Thomas looked up.
There, in the distance, rising from the cliffs like a crown of stone and light, stood Hogwarts Castle.
Its many towers glowed in golden torchlight. The grand silhouette reflected onto the dark water below, broken only by ripples from the boats. The moon hung above it all, casting the scene in silver.
Thomas forgot to breathe.
No picture in a book, no description in a letter, could have prepared him for this. The majesty, the mystery, the sheer magic of it—it was breathtaking.
Fred and George watched him silently for a moment.
"Gets everyone like that," George said, softer than usual.
"Even us," Fred added. "And we've been told it before."
The boats slid up to the landing dock. Hagrid stepped off first, then turned to help a few students who were wobbling with excitement or nerves.
"Everyone off! This way!" he called.
The path was narrow and steep, but lanterns guided the way. Thomas followed the twins closely as they climbed the stone steps toward the castle.
They reached the great oak doors towering above them. Before they could even approach, the doors swung open, revealing a tall witch with a square jaw, sharp eyes, and a look that made everyone straighten instinctively.
"She's absolutely Professor McGonagall," Fred whispered to Thomas. Thomas smiled.
She stepped forward and addressed the group with precision.
"Welcome to Hogwarts. The Sorting Ceremony will begin shortly. Please form a line and wait here quietly. I shall return in a moment to lead you inside."
With that, she turned briskly and disappeared into the castle.
The students, uncertain and jittery, slowly arranged themselves into a scattered line. Fred and George, naturally, ended up next to Thomas again.
"She's going to be a challenge," Fred muttered.
"The ultimate prank deterrent," George nodded sagely.
"I feel like even our thoughts are under surveillance," Fred added.
"I wouldn't put it past her to have anti-prank spells etched into her spectacles," George said.
Thomas chuckled.
They stood together in the stone entryway, lit by flickering torchlight and the occasional floating candle. The atmosphere was thick with anticipation.
"Imagine," Fred said suddenly, "if the Sorting involved wrestling a magical beast."
"Like a griffin!" George added. "You wrestle one down, and bam!—you're in Gryffindor."
"What if you have to solve a riddle while clinging to its back?" Fred mused.
"Or sing to it. Lull it to sleep with an opera solo!"
"Whoever hits the highest note goes to Ravenclaw."
"Whoever bites the beast goes to Slytherin."
Thomas doubled over laughing. "If this is the real test, I am completely unprepared."
George held up an invisible wand. "Behold! The Sorting Trials! Watch as eleven-year-olds perish in theatrical fashion!"
Fred mimicked a dramatic fall. "He was brave... but couldn't dodge the Basilisk in time."
Laughter rippled through nearby students who had overheard.
Just then, something cold passed through Thomas's shoulder. He yelped, spinning around.
A ghost floated by, smiling politely.
"Ah, forgive me," said the translucent friar, chubby and glowing faintly blue. "Didn't see you there."
Fred leaned toward Thomas. "That's maybe the Fat Friar. House ghost of Hufflepuff."
The ghost turned, hands folded jovially. "I do hope to see some of you in Hufflepuff. A fine house—just and loyal, oh yes."
He floated off with a contented hum, slipping through a nearby wall.
"That's normal here?" Thomas asked.
Fred shrugged. "I think. Ghosts, talking portraits, moving staircases. Usual in wizarding world."
George added, "And sometimes your teacup bites you. Hogwarts is special like that."
Before Thomas could reply, the oak doors creaked open again.
Professor McGonagall had returned, her expression unreadable.
"Form your lines properly, please," she instructed. "The Sorting Ceremony is about to begin."
With that, the students stood taller, nervous energy bubbling under every footstep.
And so, Thomas took his place, heart thudding in time with the echoing footsteps on the stone floor, ready to step into the grand unknown.