Beyond the ironwork, a line of carriages waited along the wide gravel path. Lanterns hung at their corners, glowing softly, their light reflecting off polished black wood. The carriages stood still, aligned with quiet precision.
Amber slowed."Are those being pulled?" she asked, squinting slightly.
Wayne nodded. "Yes."
"I don't see anything."
"That's normal," he said calmly. "They're pulled by Thestrals[1]."
She looked at him, waiting.
"They're winged black horses," Wayne continued, his tone steady. "Very gentle. Very loyal. Most people can't see them unless they've seen and understood death."
Amber absorbed that without reacting. "And you can."
"Yes."
She glanced at the carriage again, then back at him. "So they're there, even if I can't see them."
"Always," Wayne said. "They've been doing this job for centuries."
Amber nodded once, satisfied. "All right. That makes sense."
"They're completely safe," he added. "Hogwarts trusts them."
"That's good enough for me," she said, stepping closer. "Lead the way."
Wayne smiled and offered his hand.
They climbed inside. The door shut on its own, and without a sound, the carriage began to roll forward. The ride was smooth, almost gentle, as the path curved upward. Through the window, Hogwarts rose into view, towers outlined against the night sky, windows glowing like distant stars.
Amber leaned back slightly. "I don't know how," she said, "but this place feels like it's watching."
Wayne smiled faintly. "It is."
The carriage slowed and stopped before the main doors. Other students were stepping down nearby, voices low, excitement settling into tired anticipation.
They entered the Entrance Hall together.
The space opened wide and tall, torchlight reflecting off pale stone. Banners hung high above, barely moving. The air felt cooler here, heavier, carrying echoes that did not belong to any single voice.
Amber stopped, head tilting upward."This is…" She searched for the word. "A lot."
"It used to feel bigger," Wayne said quietly.
A small figure approached them without sound.
It was a house-elf, dressed neatly in a pressed towel embroidered with the Hogwarts crest. He bowed deeply.
"Guests of the Headmaster," the elf said softly. "I am Tibbles. I will show you to your rooms."
Amber blinked. "You live here," she said gently.
Tibbles straightened, proud. "Hogwarts lives in us, miss."
Wayne nodded in greeting. "Thank you, Tibbles."
They followed him into a side corridor branching off the hall. The noise faded quickly, replaced by the soft sound of footsteps and distant movement.
Portraits lined the walls here.
The first spoke before Amber could ask.
"Well," said a stout wizard in purple robes, peering down his nose, "if it isn't trouble walking politely."
Amber startled slightly. "Did that painting just—"
"Phineas Nigellus Black," Wayne said calmly. "Former headmaster. Best ignored."
The portrait sniffed. "Still rude," it muttered.
Further along, a gentle-looking witch smiled warmly."That one remembers kindness," Wayne said. "Helga Hufflepuff. Or at least, one version of her."
Amber slowed, studying the painting. "They're watching you."
"They remember me," Wayne corrected.
A staircase ahead creaked softly.
Amber noticed it shift, one step sliding aside with a low grinding sound.
"Did that just move," she asked.
"Yes," Wayne said. "It does that."
"Does it move often?"
"When it feels like it," he replied.
The staircase settled again, as if listening.
Tibbles stopped beside a plain stretch of wall. No door. No marking.
"This is where I leave you," the elf said, bowing once more. "The rooms will see you now."
Amber frowned. "I don't see anything."
Wayne stepped forward. "You won't."
He placed his hand lightly on Amber's arm.
For a moment, nothing happened.
Then something shifted.
The air rippled, not visibly, but unmistakably. Amber felt a sudden sense of alignment, like stepping into the right place after standing slightly off balance.
The wall parted.
Not opened. Not moved. Simply revealed what had always been there.
Amber stared. "I— okay. I definitely didn't see that before."
Wayne said nothing.
Inside, the rooms were warm and quiet. Comfortable rather than grand. A fire burned low. Their luggage stood neatly arranged. Windows overlooked the grounds, where the castle's lower lights dotted the dark.
Tibbles bowed once more. "If you need anything," he said, "Tibbles is here."
And then it was gone.
Amber turned slowly, taking it all in. "This place," she said, "is full of secrets."
Wayne looked at the doorway, smiling, but now it was once again a blank wall."Yeah," he said. "And it prefers to keep them."
They stood there together, the castle settling around them.
Tomorrow would come soon enough.
Tonight, Hogwarts will wait.
[1] Thestrals are skeletal, winged horses from the Harry Potter universe, visible only to those who have witnessed and processed death; they look like skeletal horses with reptilian features, bat-like wings, and white eyes, often mistaken for omens due to their appearance, but are actually loyal, intelligent creatures used to pull Hogwarts carriages.