"Kids, control yourselves!" Hagrid shouted as he pushed through the crowd to get ahead of the group of first-years.
After following Hagrid further up the stairs, at the very top, we were met by an elderly woman wearing a dark green robe and a large hat. She wore square glasses, was tall, and carried a very stern expression—so stern it almost seemed like she was about to scold us. Though honestly, this was nothing new compared to my former academy.
At Beauxbatons, students were taught to remain standing from the moment the headmistress entered a room until she sat down, as a sign of respect for her power.
"Oh, Professor McGonagall, just as I was told—here are the students… this time they're all here," Hagrid muttered, covering his mouth and trying to speak quietly only to Professor McGonagall, but in the end, we all heard him.
"Excellent work, Hagrid. You may go to the Great Hall. I'll take charge of the students, and we'll join you in a few minutes," Professor McGonagall said.
"Professor McGonagall is an incredible witch when it comes to Transfiguration. My parents used to talk about her," Patrick whispered.
Hagrid left at Professor McGonagall's order, and she turned her gaze back to us.
"Very well, students, welcome to Hogwarts. My name is Professor McGonagall. I teach Transfiguration, and I've also been the Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts since 1952 to this day. I understand you must be tired from the journey—and more so, some boys who decided to cause chaos in the train carriages." McGonagall shot a threatening glare at Patrick and me.
"We're finished, Dion…" Patrick muttered under his breath.
"In a few moments, we'll head to the Great Hall, where the other professors and Headmaster Albus Dumbledore are waiting. Behave yourselves and remain silent. Before you sit for the feast, each of you will be assigned to a house."
The faces of the other students lit up with excitement at hearing these words.
"As some of you may already know, at Hogwarts we have a house system. There are four houses: Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each house is a true representation of your nobility and talent, according to your abilities. From each of them have come excellent witches and wizards—something we also expect from you," McGonagall said.
Her gaze lingered on me for an instant.
"Also, keep in mind that each house will be like your own family. You will have classes and sleep in the dormitories of your house. You'll also share time in the common room of your house. The most important thing about this is your achievements—each triumph will earn points for your house, while each fault, rule-breaking, or quarrel will cause a loss of points."
"Good thing we're not in any house yet, or we'd already have lost points, Dion," Patrick whispered.
McGonagall cast a terrifying look at Patrick, and at that instant, I noticed the fear in him—how just one look was enough to silence him.
"You may be wondering what the points are for. Well, at the end of the year, the house with the most points receives the House Cup—one of the greatest honors of Hogwarts. With that clear, I expect you, along with your houses, to wear your crest proudly and become the best house of the year," McGonagall continued.
After her long speech, all the first-year students walked together through Hogwarts' vast corridors. As we walked, I realized the castle was far bigger inside than it seemed from outside—an endless maze of corridors and staircases to go up and down floors. It was going to be a bit difficult not to get lost here.
The walls were stone, and just like in my former academy, they held torches that never went out, no matter the drafts in the halls. They even kept the corridors warm to avoid problems during freezing seasons—something quite useful, truth be told.
As we advanced, a constant murmur of voices grew louder until we reached a massive door. The noise was strong behind it.
"Oh my god… It's the Great Hall! Do you know what this means, Dion?" Patrick said, grabbing my arm with both hands and tugging at me repeatedly in excitement.
"That we're going to eat?" I said sarcastically.
"Yes!!! …what? Oh, right, that too, but I mean, we're about to meet Albus Dumbledore, the Headmaster of Hogwarts! And we're finally going to find out which house we belong to. I've been dreaming of this moment for so long, but I never thought I'd actually get here. What should I say when they announce my house? How should I greet everyone? What if I trip and fall in the middle of the hall? What if I choke on a chicken leg?!" Patrick pulled a face of suffering that honestly made me laugh.
"You're a special case, Patrick, but try to calm down." I pulled his arm off mine. "Everything will be fine. Just go with it, trust yourself."
Patrick, though still nervous, listened to me and calmed down. But his trembling hand and wide smile gave away just how excited he was about this moment. Looking around, many of the other first-years were just like Patrick—glancing nervously everywhere, some wiping sweaty hands on their robes, others fanning their faces to dry the sweat dripping from their foreheads.
"Look around, Patrick. Everyone's just as nervous. Some I doubt will even eat anything tonight… looks like they've already chewed off their nails from nerves."
"Hahaha, you're right, Dion. You're really calm," Patrick said, breathing more steadily now.
"It's true. I don't really know how to feel right now… You know what? Let's just enjoy this for now and trust everything will go well."
"Sounds perfect," Patrick agreed.
"One more thing, students. In just a moment, you'll be in the presence of the professors and the Headmaster, as well as the rest of the academy. I suggest you tidy yourselves up—fix your hair and your robes before we enter the Great Hall." McGonagall's eyes pointed at a few students in particular who still had dirty hands, messy robes, and sticky hair from the sweets they had eaten on the train—including Patrick.
"Pff, I'm perfect as I am. I won't make a bad impression, right, Dion?" Patrick said confidently.
"Sure… just let me help you a little with a few things. Tergeo." (A spell used to siphon off any substance dirtying its target—blood, dust, grease, or, in this case, sweets.)
"Awesome. I don't know any spells yet, but you're already pretty good at them," Patrick said.
"I only know what Alphonse taught me."
"Alphonse?" Patrick asked.
"Yes… He's like a father to me since my parents died."
"Ohh, I see. Cool," Patrick said with a small smile.
After a few minutes of anxious waiting from most of the students, Professor McGonagall knocked on the great door. Instantly, it opened, and silence flooded the Great Hall of Hogwarts.
A vast number of students sat before us, each group arranged along four incredibly long rows of tables stretched across the hall. It was a massive chamber with towering stone walls.
The walls rose so high that when I looked up, I saw an incredible number of candles floating above us. And beyond them, a magnificent view of the night sky added a fascinating contrast to the stone-built hall.
"Very well, students, follow me," ordered Professor McGonagall.
"Wow, it's beautiful… My mother told me about this, but she always said describing it could never compare to seeing it in person. And she was so right—this is incomparable. The ceiling is enchanted to look like the sky," Patrick said.
It was true. This was beautiful. Just this detail alone might even make it superior to the dining hall of my former academy… it was incredible.