Unlike the first-years, Draco and the others, now second-years, no longer needed to cross the lake by boat. The next time they'd make that journey would be on graduation day.
After Hagrid led the new students away, Draco and his group made their way to the waiting carriages.
In fact, aside from that very first trip to Hogwarts, it was always these carriages that transported students to and from the station during the holidays.
And speaking of these carriages, it was worth mentioning how the first-years—Draco included, back then—had been amazed by how the horseless carriages moved on their own.
After all, not every wizard could see the Thestrals pulling them. Those who could rarely spoke of it, so for most students, the invisible creatures remained a strange and rare mystery...
Once everyone had arrived at the Great Hall, all that remained was to wait for the new students and begin the Sorting Ceremony.
"The Sorting Ceremony, huh? Feels like that was just yesterday."
From being the center of attention as one of the "monkeys"—ahem, new students—to now being one of the students doing the watching, Pansy, seated beside Draco, couldn't help but reflect on how familiar it all felt and how her role had shifted.
She withdrew her gaze from the ragged Sorting Hat and looked over toward the Gryffindor table, clearly trying to see if a certain Chosen One had shown up.
"He really isn't here. Looks like something did happen."
"If you're hoping to see someone get expelled, that's not going to happen—as long as Dumbledore is still the headmaster."
Probably picking up on the expectation in her tone, Draco's hand paused mid-turn through his book as he cast a glance toward the Gryffindor table as well.
Hearing Draco's response, Pansy puffed out her cheeks in annoyance before letting out a regretful sigh.
"That's too bad."
Ever since the end-of-term feast, Pansy—who had never liked Harry Potter and his friends—had grown even more displeased with them.
Sure, it had been Dumbledore who awarded them those last-minute points, and yes, blaming the students instead might come off as petty or cowardly. But hey, for a pretty, pampered girl like Pansy, a little selfishness seemed only fair, didn't it?
Besides, in her eyes, those people were nothing but outsiders...
While she whispered to Draco, the new first-years, led by Professor McGonagall, began entering the Great Hall one after another.
And as the doors closed behind them, it signaled the official start of this year's Sorting Ceremony...
Dozens of floating candles lit the space above the four long, crowded tables. Golden plates and goblets gleamed in the candlelight, and the enchanted ceiling overhead shimmered with stars—so realistic it was hard to tell if it was magic or the actual sky.
As always, the sight captured every first-year's full attention.
From this moment on, they were truly stepping into the world of magic...
At Professor McGonagall's cue, the new students lined up in front of a battered old hat.
It had a name: the Sorting Hat.
As every eye in the hall turned toward it, Professor McGonagall's voice cut through the murmurs of confusion.
"When I call your name, step forward!"
Each year, this patched, dirty old hat was used in a unique magical ceremony to sort students into the four houses of Hogwarts—a moment that filled every first-year with nervous anticipation.
Seeing the tense expressions on their faces made Hermione think back to her own first day. Now that she remembered it, it really had been a special experience. Maybe that's why no one ever gave away the ceremony's details—so others could have the same memory for themselves.
Just as Hermione was lost in thought, Professor McGonagall continued to call out the names without pause...
"Luna Lovegood!"
As the small witch with her ash-golden hair stepped forward, it marked the official start of the Sorting Ceremony...
While the ceremony was in full swing, no one noticed the two suspicious figures lurking by the doorway, peeking in and quietly observing.
"Harry, look! The Sorting Ceremony's already started!"
"Are we really that late?"
The sneaky figures peering into the Great Hall were none other than Ron Weasley—who, for some reason, had missed the Hogwarts Express—and Harry Potter, who had just arrived at his side.
No one knew how they had made it to the castle, but what was even stranger was their appearance. The two of them were covered in dirt, looking utterly disheveled, and their robes were tattered and muddy. Anyone who didn't know better would've thought they'd just rolled through a swamp.
Setting his luggage down by his feet, Ron asked nervously, "What should we do, Harry? Should we try to sneak in? If we're careful, maybe no one will notice?"
"Wait a sec... look over there. There's an empty seat at the staff table... Where's Snape?"
"Maybe he's sick!"
"Or maybe he quit—again—because he didn't get the Defense Against the Dark Arts job."
"Or maybe he got fired. Come on, every wizard hates him…"
Why this topic excited them so much, to the point they forgot their current situation, was a mystery—but it was clear Harry and Ron had plenty of grudges against Snape.
Still, this was absolutely the worst possible time to be joking around...
"Or maybe... he's waiting to hear your explanation as to why the two of you didn't come to school with the rest of the students on the express train."
"..."
"..."
That cold, biting voice—laced with barely concealed anger—froze them both on the spot. The looks on their faces instantly turned to horror.
Because in their minds, only one wizard spoke with that chilling tone.
And it was, of course, the very one they had just been gossiping about—
Severus Snape, their Potions professor...