The Hogwarts Express, with “5972” printed on its front, sped along the railway from Platform 9¾ at King’s Cross Station toward Hogsmeade Station near Hogwarts.
Above the old-fashioned train, which was puffing out steam, a two-wheeled carriage pulled by Thestrals followed close behind.
“Looks like we’re not too late.” Professor Fig sat inside the carriage, turning his head to look at the train racing beneath the wheels as he wiped away a cold sweat.
“Of course.
All thanks to my ancient magic tunnel.” Ethan sat opposite him with his hands on his hips, looking thoroughly pleased with himself.
“Do not mention that tunnel to me,” Professor Fig said irritably.
The other end of the light screen had indeed led to Diagon Alley, but it had opened into the back room of Madam Primpernelle’s Beautifying Potions.
When they came out, Madam Primpernelle was treating a witch.
The sudden appearance of two grown men in her shop startled her so badly that her hand slipped, popping a huge pimple on the witch’s nose.
The pus that sprayed out splattered both of them across the face.
Note: Madam Primpernelle’s Beautifying Potions Shop is a beauty potions shop dedicated to solving witches’ problems with freckles, sores, and acne.
Madam Primpernelle had quite a temper herself.
After forcing a smile and seeing off the cursing customer, she grabbed a broom without another word and chased the two of them out of the shop.
“Get out!
You ruined my reputation!
Don’t ever let me see either of you again!”
Professor Fig could only be grateful that it was already late, with hardly anyone left in Diagon Alley.
If too many people had seen that, his teaching career at Hogwarts might well have ended on the spot.
Getting sprayed in the face with pus was not even the most infuriating part.
Being chased out of the shop with a broom by Madam Primpernelle and blacklisted was not the most humiliating part either.
What truly made him feel stifled was that when he tried to use the incident as a cautionary lesson for Ethan in the carriage, Ethan actually had the nerve to argue with perfect confidence.
“Professor, just tell me this.
Was it Diagon Alley or not?”
Utterly unteachable.
Professor Fig silently pressed a hand to his forehead, grief rising within him without end.
He realized that the more familiar Ethan became with him, the more the unreliable side hidden during their first meeting began to show.
No, rather than showing, it was more like Ethan had simply stopped pretending.
There was a certain two-faced beauty to it.
“Polite and proper in front of strangers, but in front of familiar people, who the hell are you?”
“Little Ethan, could you go back to the way you used to be?
If that is too much to ask, even turning the clock back a little would do.”
Professor Fig raised his head to look at Ethan, his voice tinged with sorrow.
More than ever, he missed the courteous, refined, diligent, eager-to-learn boy he had first met.
“Oh, Professor, what are you saying?” Ethan waved a hand in feigned shyness.
“This is the bond we worked so hard to build between us.
How could we destroy it so easily?”
“You…
sigh…”
With an expression that plainly said he had believed the devil’s lies, Professor Fig turned to look out the window and gave up thinking.
Such a good child.
What a shame he had a mouth.
“Hey, Professor, the train is getting away.
Can we really catch up?” Ethan pointed at the Hogwarts Express, which was gradually pulling ahead.
“It’s fine.
The Express has to take a detour around the mountains.
We can fly straight over the summit.”
Professor Fig forced himself to rally, then tapped the carriage roof with his finger.
The coachman sitting at the front received the signal and snapped the reins.
The Thestrals pulled the carriage high into the sky, flying straight toward the Scottish Highlands.
…
Night slowly spread across the Scottish Highlands.
A crescent moon and several stars dotted the deep purple sky above Hogwarts Castle.
A carriage streaked across the night sky like a shooting star, gradually descending toward Hogsmeade Village.
“Hey, Professor, we’ve gone past it.
Isn’t Hogwarts Castle right below us?” Ethan reminded him.
“There are magical barriers around Hogwarts Castle.
Flying spells like ours can’t get in, and the same goes for Apparition,” Professor Fig explained.
“We’ll land in Hogsmeade Village first.
The rest of the way isn’t far.
We can walk.”
“Then why don’t we land at the train station?
Isn’t that closer?
Look, the train has already stopped.”
“Do you think there’s still any open space there for us to land?”
By then, the Hogwarts Express had already stopped at Hogsmeade Station, and Hogwarts students were pouring out, filling the entire station.
It was a roaring crowd, robes fluttering everywhere, with people packed in on every side.
“Forget I said anything.” Ethan shrank back.
“All right, I’ll use this time to explain the Sorting Ceremony to you.
Hogwarts has four houses: brave Gryffindor, loyal Hufflepuff, wise Ravenclaw, and…
elegant, surely, Slytherin.”
“So hotheads, blockheads, bookworms, and little darklings,” Ethan silently complained.
“…The Sorting Ceremony determines which house you will go to based on your qualities, but don’t worry.
The classes are the same for every house.
“During your time at school, your house will be like your home at Hogwarts.
You will attend classes with the other students in your house, live together in your house dormitory, and spend your free time in your house common room.”
“While you study at Hogwarts, outstanding performance will earn points for your house, while any rule-breaking will lose points for your house.
At the end of the year, the house with the highest score wins the House Cup, which is a great honor.
I hope that no matter which house you are sorted into, you will bring honor to it.”
Professor Fig spoke at length, continuing all the way until the carriage stopped at the entrance to Hogsmeade Village.
“All right, put on your robes.
Let’s go.
I’ll have someone take your luggage to the school.”
Ethan put on his wizard robes in the night and quickly followed Professor Fig.
The robes felt strangely smooth against his body, and though the hem clearly brushed the ground, not a speck of dust clung to it.
Don’t ask.
If you ask, it was Magic.
“Over there is the Forbidden Forest.
It’s very dangerous inside, so whatever you do, don’t go in.” Professor Fig kept explaining things to Ethan as they hurried along.
“That’s the Quidditch Pitch.
I’ll explain what Quidditch is in detail later.
It’s a very fun sport.”
Note: Most of the map layout in this book follows the reference map drawn by Rowling.
Professor Fig led Ethan in a sprint from the main entrance, across the arch bridge courtyard, and all the way to the doors of the Great Hall.
“Good, good.
Sounds like the Sorting Ceremony is still going on.” Professor Fig panted as he pressed his ear to the door, listening to the movement inside.
“I’ll need to find time later to study that box.
There must still be other clues hidden in it.
Who knows what this whole thing might involve…” Professor Fig looked at Ethan with a serious expression.
“So I hope you won’t tell anyone about what happened today for the time being.”
“Understood, Professor.” Ethan put away his usual unserious manner and answered earnestly.
“Thank you.
Ready for the Sorting Ceremony?” Professor Fig rubbed his hands together, pushed the door open a narrow crack, and poked his head into the Great Hall.
Standing in front of the door, Ethan could clearly hear an elderly woman’s voice call out a name every so often.
Before long, another hoarse voice would shout the name of a house, followed immediately by thunderous applause.
“I wonder which house the Sorting Hat will put me in.
No, the Sorting should let me choose, shouldn’t it?
Which house should I go to?” Ethan was thinking it over when he suddenly heard a familiar name.
“Harry Potter!”
Harry Potter.
The famous four-eyed scarhead, whose single Expelliarmus carried him across the entire wizarding world.
Captain of the Gryffindor Point-Deduction Squad, best known for steadily dragging his house points down to rock bottom over the school year, then earning them all back in one go at the end of term and snatching the House Cup right out from under the other houses.
He was also the nemesis of a certain nose-less, bald Dark Wizard, mainly demonstrated by reflecting the other side’s Killing Curse back and making him kill himself three times.
Ethan instantly perked up.
He had just been about to lean closer to the door and see what was happening when Professor Fig pulled him into the Great Hall.
Inside the Great Hall were four long tables arranged side by side, surrounded by students in robes.
Thousands of candles floating in midair above the tables lit the dining hall.
Gleaming golden plates and goblets were laid across the four tables.
Specks of starlight twinkled across the ceiling of the Great Hall.
It was a spell cast by the professors at the school, making it look just like the sky outside.
I know who and which book you’re all about to mention here.
At the head of the dining hall was another long table, the teachers’ table.
In front of it sat a four-legged stool.
On the stool was a boy wearing a pointed hat, looking extremely nervous and uneasy.
When the hat shouted “Gryffindor,” three of the four long tables burst into applause and cheers.
The boy stood up with a red face and went to sit at one of the long tables.
“Professor McGonagall, please sort this student.” Professor Fig led Ethan between the long tables and onto the platform, then called to the elderly witch holding the Sorting Hat and a piece of parchment.
“Ah, Mr.
Ethan, yes?” Professor McGonagall glanced at the parchment and said, “You’ve arrived just in time.
It is your turn.
Please sit.”
With gazes from every corner of the hall fixed on him and buzzing whispers filling the air, Ethan turned and sat down on the four-legged stool.
Professor McGonagall raised the Sorting Hat, stepped forward, and placed it firmly on Ethan’s head.