"Firs'-years, this way! Firs'-years, over 'ere with me!"
Marcus let out a low whistle. "Is that a person or a small mountain?"
"Half-giant, I reckon," Aegeus murmured, already comparing the man's build against everything he'd read on magical creature hybrids. "Fascinating."
The giant man led them off the platform and down a path so steep and narrow that the group was reduced to single file within moments, boots sliding on loose gravel in the dark. Rosalind grabbed the back of Marcus's cloak twice to keep from sliding forward.
"Almost there!" Hagrid's voice boomed cheerfully over the crunch of sliding gravel, seemingly unaware that half the first-years behind him were wobbling like newborn foals. "Yeh'll get yer first look any second now."
The path opened onto the edge of a wide, black lake, still as glass. On the far shore, perched atop a sheer cliff, a castle rose against the night sky in a tangle of towers and lit windows.
A ripple of noise went through the crowd of first-years.
"Well," Rosalind said eventually, "that's one big castle."
Small boats waited along the shoreline, bobbing gently, seemingly with no visible means of propulsion.
"No more'n four to a boat!" the giant man called back. He boarded one by himself, the wooden vessel groaning under his immense weight and sinking noticeably deeper into the dark water.
Aegeus, Marcus, and Rosalind claimed one, together with a brown-haired girl. The moment everyone was settled, the boats pushed off from the shore in perfect unison, gliding across the lake with no oars, no current.
Nobody spoke. The castle grew larger as they came, its reflection stretched and rippling across the black water below it.
"Heads down!" the man shouted as the lead boats reached the base of the cliff.
Aegeus ducked along with the others, and the boat carried them through a curtain of hanging ivy into a passage cut directly into the rock.
The tunnel ran on in near-total darkness for what felt like longer than it likely was, before opening into a wide landing, lit by torches, where the boats bumped gently against a stone ledge.
They climbed out onto damp rock. Rosalind checked on Bella immediately, the cat looked entirely unbothered by the whole ordeal, which Aegeus privately thought showed more composure than most of the children present.
They walked up a flight of stone steps and crowded around the huge, oak front door.
"Everyone here?"
The man raised a gigantic fist and knocked three times on the castle door.
Standing in the entrance hall was Professor McGonagall, dressed in emerald-green robes and holding herself with a sharp, commanding posture.
"The firs'-years, Professor McGonagall," he announced.
"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here."
She ushered the wide-eyed crowd into a small reception chamber just off the main hall. The space was tight, filled with the hushed, nervous chatter of eleven-year-olds.
"Welcome to Hogwarts," McGonagall said, her stern gaze sweeping over the assembled students. "The start-of-term feast will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses: Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, or Slytherin. While you are here, your house will be like your family. Your triumphs will earn house points, while any rule-breaking will lose them."
That's it? Aegeus thought. What's the actual prize?
She paused, letting the weight of her words settle over the room.
"The Sorting itself happens in front of the rest of the school, so I would suggest using this time to make yourselves presentable." Her gaze swept the room, pausing just slightly on a boy whose collar had gone crooked somewhere on the walk up. "I will return shortly. Wait quietly."
Once she departed, the room erupted into hushed whispers.
"So how do they actually sort us?" Marcus asked, arms crossed, glancing sideways at Aegeus. "My cousin said something about a test, but he wouldn't say what kind."
"I heard you have to fight a mountain troll with a wooden spoon," a pale boy nearby whispered in a high, terrified squeak. "Or swim across the lake with giant squids watching to see if you panic."
"Don't be ridiculous," another first-year cut in, puffing out his chest nervously. "My uncle told me they line us up and make us drink a potion that turns your hair the color of your house. If you don't fit any, you just explode."
"There's no test," Rosalind said flatly, with the confidence of someone who had already read the script. "It's a hat. It looks into your head and decides which house fits you."
Hearing what Rosalind said, Aegeus remained silent, his mind already evaluating the mechanics of such an artifact. An enchanted object capable of some level of Legilimency and personal judgment.
A moment later, McGonagall returned, her boots clicking crisply against the stone floor. "We are ready for you now. Form a line and follow me."
The double doors swung open, revealing the Great Hall in all its grandeur. Four long house tables stretched across the expanse, packed with older students under the glow of thousands of candles floating mid-air. Above them, the enchanted ceiling mirrored the dark, star-filled night sky outside.
His attention, however, drifted to the staff table.
He had done some research on the teachers over the summer— as he wanted to know exactly who was going to be teaching him.
The sallow, black-haired man near the end, watching the incoming first-years with an expression that suggested he would rather be anywhere else, could only be Professor Snape.
Potions Master, and, if the papers Aegeus had tracked down were any indication, a genuinely gifted one— several original brewing techniques credited to his name, published well before he was out of his twenties.
Beside him, a stack of cushions raised a strikingly small wizard to something approaching table height— Professor Flitwick, Charms, whose name turned up attached to a handful of dueling championships from decades back, along with a body of published work on charm theory that Aegeus had only gotten partway through before running out of summer.
McGonagall, of course, he already knew by more than reputation. Transfiguration master, and by every account he had read, one of the recognized authorities on the subject— over a dozen published papers and original theories credited to her name.
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TO BE CONTINUED
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PS: I think it's clear now that he looks good, so you got the idea. I will stop mentioning people's reactions.
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The first challenge.
Top 200 New Releases (released in the last 30 days) or 50 stone, reward +1 chapter (Not yet achieved)