When Avada returned to the compartment where Cedric and the others were, he found—just as expected—that the three of them were still animatedly discussing broomsticks and Quidditch. At some point, the table had also become piled high with snacks. With no other choice, Avada resigned himself to joining their discussion, stuffing Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans and Chocolate Frogs into his mouth while occasionally offering half-hearted responses of "Mm, yeah," and "Right."
Time passed like that. After several hours, when the view outside the window had become completely swallowed by darkness, the train finally began to slow, eventually pulling into the familiar little platform.
"The school letter said that students above first year don't need to take the boats anymore—they can go straight to Hogwarts by carriage," Cho said as she tidied her clothes, then asked Cedric curiously, "But how do the carriages cross the Black Lake? Do they run over the water? Or are they pulled by some kind of horse-shaped water creature?"
"They fly straight across," Cedric explained. "They're pulled by a magical creature called a Thestral. Supposedly, it's a winged creature that resembles a horse, with very strong flying ability…"
"Supposedly?" Cho blinked. "Didn't you ride those carriages last term?"
"I can't see them."
He smiled faintly. "Thestrals have a peculiar trait—only people who have personally witnessed death can see them. Otherwise, they're completely invisible to you. Honestly… I'm rather glad I can't see them."
As they spoke, the group followed the flow of students off the train. First-years, led by Rubeus Hagrid, headed toward the path down to the harbor, while the vast majority of older students naturally made their way toward the carriage station on the other side. The newly promoted second-years, unfamiliar with the route, trailed closely behind the older students, afraid of getting lost if they strayed even a little.
The carriage station wasn't far from the platform. After less than a minute's walk, Avada saw hundreds of empty carriages neatly lined up on an open stretch of ground. At the front of each carriage was a bright cluster of life force and mental energy—
Wait. I can't see the Thestrals?
Staring at the seemingly empty shafts—where only life force and mental energy were visible through Magical Perception—Avada felt a surge of confusion.
He himself had died once. So why couldn't he see Thestrals?
Did dying by his own hand not count or something?
As he climbed into one of the carriages, Avada carefully examined the Thestral's magical structure, intending to figure out the principle behind this strange property. But after only a short while, his brows twisted tightly together.
The magical structure of the Thestral was a complete mess—so chaotic it was almost unbearable to look at. If not for the presence of basic life force and mental energy, he wouldn't have believed it was a living creature at all. Within that tangled structure, he couldn't find a single part that seemed meaningful; it was sloppier and more chaotic than the crudest doodle.
Forget being related to "death" or "invisibility"—the fact that this thing could even run was already unbelievable!
Is this thing just a giant bug?
Avada rubbed his temples in frustration. He realized that once his research into the world reached a certain depth, his Magical Perception almost completely failed him. Whether it was the magical void within mental energy, the splitting of the soul, time and destiny, the protective charm on Harry, or the principle behind Thestrals being visible only after witnessing death—it was always the same.
It was as if there existed something in this world even more fundamental than magic itself, silently influencing the operation of everything.
And that made Avada even more eager to open the book Professor Baker had left behind, to uncover the so-called "most fundamental, most essential mysteries" hidden within.
Once I'm back at school, I'll put all other research on hold and focus entirely on breaking the seal!
During the summer, he'd been delayed by other matters and constrained in his spellcasting, which had slowed his progress. But if he devoted himself fully to this one task, he was confident he could completely break the seal before Christmas arrived.
As students boarded the carriages one after another, the vehicles—carrying a faint smell of mildew and straw—rose smoothly into the air. They flew across the Black Lake toward a pair of imposing wrought-iron gates, flanked by stone pillars topped with winged boars. After passing through the gates, the carriages accelerated along the long uphill driveway leading to the castle. Through the window, Avada could see the towers drawing closer and closer.
At last, the carriage swayed to a halt. Avada and the other older students jumped down in turn. The second-years followed the crowd up the stone steps, through another set of oak doors, and into the vast, shadowy Entrance Hall. Torches burned along the walls, and a magnificent marble staircase led upward—an entrance entirely different from the one used by first-years.
"We're much faster than the first-years," someone remarked. "They'll probably need a few more minutes before they arrive…"
This time, it was the Weasley twins who excitedly began explaining things to the second-years.
"Because of wizarding tradition, first-years don't know how the Sorting Ceremony works," Fred said cheerfully. "They're already nervous enough. Then we older students sit down in advance, dressed all neat and tidy, and when the first-years enter the Great Hall, we stay completely silent and just stare at them with solemn expressions…"
"Don't look at me like that—this is a fine Hogwarts tradition. Everyone has to go through it once!"
Under the resentful gazes of the second-years, Fred gave an awkward laugh. "See? Now it's your turn to enjoy this tradition too."
"Come on, move it! If we're too slow, we'll miss it!"
Surprisingly, even the prefects had started urging everyone along—apparently, opinions on this near-prank tradition were remarkably unanimous.
With no choice, Avada followed the others, straightened his robes carefully, put on the black pointed hat he hadn't touched all of last year, and fastened his wand at his waist. Then he sat down quietly and elegantly at the Hufflepuff table.
"Hey, remember? There's a Harry Potter among this year's first-years!"
With some time still left before the new students arrived, the seated older students began whispering animatedly about the topic that had dominated conversations since the end of last term.
"Which house do you think he'll be sorted into?"
"Definitely Ravenclaw! He defeated the Dark Lord as a newborn—how could someone with that terrifying talent not belong in Ravenclaw?"
"Nonsense! He'll be in Gryffindor! I've asked around—the Potter family is almost entirely Gryffindor, and both his parents were too. Harry Potter will be no exception!"
"I hope it's Hufflepuff. Think about it—he defeated the most evil Dark Wizard at birth and ended a terrifying era. That must mean he has great kindness in his heart…"
"Haha, stop guessing. He's obviously destined for Slytherin! He was born to end the last Dark Lord, then ascend himself—"
"Shut up! Is that something you can say out loud?!"
After someone forcibly shut the Slytherin up, the discussion shifted to just how frightening Harry Potter's magical ability must have become over the past eleven years, and whether he might even replace Dumbledore as Headmaster of Hogwarts.
Meanwhile, Avada pretended to join the discussion, while quietly shifting his Magical Perception toward a certain figure seated at the teachers' table.
Within that person's life force, besides his own normal golden mental energy, there was another cluster—now dark gold, far more stable—of mutated mental energy, containing a magical void slightly smaller than that of an ordinary person.
So I finally see you… Voldemort.
(End of Chapter)