The train shuddered to a halt with a final, exhausted wheeze.
Outside, the world had already drowned in darkness.
Students surged toward the carriages in a chaos of elbows and jostling shoulders, spilling onto a small platform lit by a handful of sputtering lamps.
English summer had turned its back.
A biting wind cut across the platform, raising goosebumps on Elias’s arms.
Hermione pulled her robes tight, lips pressed thin.
She shivered — whether from the cold or from nerves, it was hard to say.
“First-years! First-years, this way! Harry, this way, how are you?” The voice boomed through the gloom, belonging to a man whose tangled beard and towering frame made him look carved from a hillside.
“Is he a giant?” Hermione breathed, eyes wide.
“Probably not. Giants are much taller,” Elias said.
He’d only read about them in passing, but the cast of characters was familiar enough.
“Harry Potter.” Hermione’s voice carried a thread of something between awe and envy.
“I know everything about him. His name is in so many books on modern magical history.”
“Yes, he’s rather famous in the wizarding world.” Elias tightened the belt of his robes against the wind and followed as she edged closer to the giant man, weaving through the crowd.
“Which house do you think you’ll be sorted into?” Hermione asked, frowning.
“I’d like Gryffindor — Dumbledore came from there. Or Ravenclaw would be nice. Preferably not Slytherin; I’ve heard it isn’t very friendly to Muggle-born wizards like us…”
“It’s the same school, the same classes,” Elias said.
“I imagine it’ll be much the same wherever you go. Personally, I’d prefer Ravenclaw. I’ve heard the learning atmosphere is more intense, if I have the choice.”
Hermione nodded, her expression settling into something thoughtful, as if Ravenclaw had just climbed a notch in her estimation.
“I wonder how they sort the students…”
The first-years stumbled after Hagrid as he lumbered down a long, slippery slope and onto a path even darker than the one before.
The ground was treacherous with mud from the recent rains, vines snaking across the way to trip unwary feet.
More than one young wizard went sprawling.
Elias nearly went down twice, caught by flailing classmates, before his patience snapped.
He drew his wand.
“Lumos.”
Light erupted from the tip, banishing the darkness in a five-meter radius as if someone had carved a chunk out of the sun.
[Flurlumination LV.3 — 23/500 EXP]
Hermione, quick on the uptake, drew her own wand and added her light to his.
They edged closer to the light source, a silent drift of bodies.
Since Elias and Hermione were already at the back of the group, the students behind them slowed, then began to lag further and further from the giant’s receding back.
Hagrid, deep in conversation with Harry Potter, noticed nothing.
The path stayed true, though, no forks in the dark, and soon they caught up to the main cluster clustered at the edge of a lake.
“Merlin’s beard!” Hagrid’s face sagged with relief when they rounded the corner.
“Great! Thought my first time ushering students was about to end in disaster.”
A blond boy beside him scoffed.
“Blundering oaf.”
Hagrid strode over, eyeing them both.
“Excellent Lumos Charms, you two. Get on board, four to a boat.”
Once they were settled, Hermione leaned close to Elias and whispered, “It seems like no one else knows the simplest Lumos Charm either. Isn’t that strange?”
“Perhaps wizarding children need a different education before Hogwarts,” Elias said.
“Learning to read, that sort of thing.”
Hermione’s shoulders loosened.
A weight seemed to lift.
“Ready to go!” Hagrid roared, and the boats lurched into motion, gliding smoothly across the black lake.
Elias craned his neck, peering under the edge of the boat.
Something vast and dark shifted beneath the surface — a single enormous tentacle broke the water and vanished again.
He stared after it with undisguised interest and idly wondered how it would taste braised.
“That’s the Giant Squid,” Hermione said, catching his expression and leaning out to look.
She’d identified it instantly, and a brief lecture followed.
“The Ministry classifies them as XX magical creatures — somewhat dangerous, aquatic. It’s said the Grindylows here have been tamed by mermaids. Seems that’s true.”
Elias nodded and looked away, his gaze climbing the cliffs to where Hogwarts Castle stood silhouetted against the stars.
The boat moved forward, and the world fell quiet.
“Look down!” Hagrid called as they neared the cliff face.
Elias judged that even standing upright, his head wouldn’t come close to the stone.
They passed through a long, dark tunnel and emerged at a small stone dock.
Disembarking, they walked a cobblestone path, crossed a damp meadow, climbed a flight of steps, and stopped before a great oaken door.
A tall, elderly witch in deep emerald robes stood in the doorway.
“The first-year students have arrived, Professor McGonagall.” Hagrid, despite his size, seemed suddenly smaller.
His voice came fast, his eyes avoiding hers.
“Thank you, Hagrid. I will take it from here.”
Professor McGonagall pushed the doors wide and gestured them inside.
The brightly lit hallway, the vaulted ceiling that seemed to go on forever, the magnificent marble staircase — it swallowed their attention whole.
She led them into a small chamber off the entrance hall.
From beyond the walls, they could hear the muted roar of hundreds of students talking.
“Welcome to Hogwarts,” Professor McGonagall began.
She launched into an explanation of the school’s academic structure and the Sorting Ceremony.
Hermione listened with laser focus.
Elias let his attention drift.
He disliked formal, tedious lectures.
A flicker of boredom settled on his tongue like stale honey.
[Sloth +1]
McGonagall concluded quickly and swept out.
The chamber erupted in a cacophony of speculation.
“My brother said the Sorting Ceremony involves fighting a troll,” announced a red-haired boy.
Several first-years who knew what trolls were lost their color immediately.
“Don’t worry — I think they were just playing a trick on me. I never believed it.”
His trembling voice did not help.
Soon, the discussion shifted to dueling, then to demonstrating self-taught magic.
That re-ignited Hermione’s nerves.
She began muttering spells under her breath, fingers twitching through wand movements.
A short while later, Professor McGonagall returned.
She instructed them to straighten their robes, form a neat line, and follow her.
Elias’s fingers brushed the cool, smooth surface of his wand in his pocket.
A familiar weight against the rising tide of anticipation.
What house would he be sorted into?
More importantly, what ripple would that sorting send through the greater scheme of things?
He glanced at the doors to the Great Hall, wondering what he’d find on the other side.