“He only took off his jacket…” Seeing Hermione leave with a red face, Ron muttered, “Though as long as she leaves, that’s great.” Harry and Ron also began changing into their robes alongside Sherlock.
Harry noticed Ron’s sneakers—sure enough, just as Sherlock had said earlier, they peeked out from underneath the hem of his robes.
But Harry had no time to dwell on it now, simply because he was too nervous.
Ron’s face was pale, not looking much better.
After all, they were just eleven-year-old kids.
Being suddenly taken far away from home to a completely unfamiliar place, it would be lying to say they weren’t nervous.
As for Sherlock—it was better not to treat him like a child.
The train gradually slowed down and finally came to a complete halt.
By now, night had fully fallen.
“At this speed, they have the nerve to call it an ‘Express’…” Ron couldn’t help muttering.
“In fact, I believe calling it a ‘direct train’ would be more accurate,” Sherlock said calmly.
Harry nodded in agreement.
The moment the doors opened, a howling cold wind made the young wizards shiver in unison.
Sherlock’s physical condition was actually quite good for his age, but having just recovered from a severe illness, he too found it difficult to endure.
Britain’s chilly, damp climate was put on full display at this moment, leaving everyone trembling from the cold.
Just then, a pool of bright light appeared above everyone’s heads, catching the young wizards’ attention.
Immediately after, a rough, booming voice sounded: “Firs’-years!
Firs’-years over here!” A giant standing over three meters tall appeared right in front of everyone.
Precisely because he was so towering, the light source from the lantern in his hand seemed remarkably high up.
Sherlock instantly realized this man was the Hagrid Harry had mentioned.
However, Harry’s description had been rather conservative; according to Sherlock’s visual measurement, the man was at least three and a half meters tall.
One could only say this was fitting for a magical world—after all, the tallest man in the Muggle world was only two and a half meters.
Though Hagrid possessed a bushy beard, he gave Harry a gentle smile.
“Harry, over here!
How’re you doing?
C’mon, follow me.
Any more firs’-years?
Mind yer step now!
All right, firs’-years follow me!” Led by the giant Hagrid, the new students parted ways with the older students and walked down a steep, narrow path.
The way was pitch-black and gloomy all around until they rounded a bend, and the view suddenly opened up.
The young wizards couldn’t help letting out a collective gasp.
A black lake appeared before their eyes as if clouds had parted to reveal the sun.
Ripples stirred across the calm surface of the water, making it appear both tranquil and mysterious.
Even more eye-catching was the high mountain on the opposite shore.
Perched atop the hillside stood a majestic castle, its many turrets piercing the sky, windows shimmering beneath the starry night, drawing everyone’s gaze.
Hogwarts had arrived!
At this moment, all the young wizards unconsciously held their breath, gazing quietly at the scene, until Hagrid spoke up to remind them.
To commemorate the four founders of Hogwarts, first-years entering the school for the first time would cross the Black Lake by boat just as the four founders had, arriving at the castle.
This was also why the giant Hagrid had instructed the new students to follow him earlier.
Since each boat could carry no more than four people, Harry and Ron naturally stuck with Sherlock, their big brother figure.
As someone they had met before school started, Hermione came along as well, which made Ron roll his eyes once again.
“Everyone in?
Forward!” After confirming that all the first-years were aboard, Hagrid rowed a boat by himself at the front—naturally, given his stature, no second person could fit in his boat.
A fleet of small boats glided across the lake, sending ripples spreading across the calm surface.
Some gazed at the sky-scraping castle in silence, some tried hard to see if they could make the boat go faster, while others chatted excitedly about the future as they rowed.
Sherlock’s group of four belonged to the latter.
Hermione was the first to speak up: “How will they determine which house we get sorted into?” Harry shook his head.
“Hagrid didn’t say.” The books Sherlock had bought didn’t mention this either, as if everyone deliberately made a point to keep it secret.
And so, three pairs of eyes turned toward Ron.
Stared at by six eyes, Ron found it a bit overwhelming and quickly said, “It’s through a test—Fred said it hurts a lot, but I think he was joking.” Sherlock shook his head.
“He was definitely joking.” It was obvious if you thought about it.
An entrance test was akin to a track-placement exam in the Muggle world—how could it possibly cause bodily harm to students?
Ron was still somewhat worried.
“I hope so…
But speaking of which, Sherlock, someone as smart as you will definitely be sorted into Ravenclaw.
I’ll probably be sorted into Gryffindor.” Hermione raised an eyebrow upon hearing this.
Sherlock merely smiled and didn’t answer.
Crossing the Black Lake took less time than expected.
When they stepped off to disembark, Hagrid even helped Neville find his toad, making Neville overjoyed.
However, that joy soon dissipated.
A tall, dark-haired witch in emerald-green robes stood before the castle doors, completing the handover with Hagrid.
“The first-years, Professor McGonagall.” “Thank you, Hagrid.
I will take them from here.” Seeing her stern expression, everyone instinctively felt this woman was not someone easy to deal with.
The newcomer was none other than Hogwarts’ Deputy Headmistress and Head of Gryffindor House, Professor Minerva McGonagall.
When she saw Sherlock, a smile surfaced on her stern face.
“Hello, Mr.
Holmes.” “Pleased to meet you, Professor McGonagall.” The exchange between Sherlock and McGonagall surprised the nearby young wizards quite a bit.
Hermione couldn’t help nudging Sherlock with her elbow.
“Holmes, how do you know Professor McGonagall?” Her gesture confirmed to Sherlock once again that this girl was naturally familiar and friendly.
Seeing the curious looks from Harry and Ron, he told them about Professor McGonagall visiting his home to answer his questions.
“So that’s how it is.” Satisfied in their curiosity, the three soon had their attention drawn away by Professor McGonagall’s words.
“Welcome to Hogwarts.
The start-of-term banquet is about to begin, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses…” Compared to Ron, Professor McGonagall’s introduction of the four houses was much more objective.
She specifically pointed out that each house possessed its own glorious history and had produced outstanding witches and wizards.
The four houses were never superior or inferior to one another, and regardless of which house one was sorted into, they were all part of Hogwarts.
After saying this, Professor McGonagall led the new students into the entrance hall, then took her leave first to prepare for the Sorting Ceremony.
In the meantime, more than twenty ghosts poured out from the walls, causing quite a stir and scaring the new students half to death.
Sherlock developed a great deal of interest in these ghosts—something current science was temporarily unable to achieve.
He tried to communicate with the ghosts, but they were whispering among themselves and paid no mind to the first-years.
Only a fat monk responded to him, expressing hope that Sherlock would be sorted into Hufflepuff, on the grounds that the Fat Friar himself had been in that house.
“No causal relationship whatsoever.” Sherlock sighed, losing interest in further communicating with the ghosts, and turned to observe the Great Hall instead.