The conversation was interrupted by a sharp, authoritative knock on the front door that somehow managed to convey both politeness and absolute expectation of immediate response.
"That'll be Professor McGonagall," Ben said, moving toward the door with the measured steps of someone preparing for a significant moment. His voice carried that particular quality of steady reliability mixed with quiet anticipation—the voice of a man who had learned to approach the extraordinary with practical grace.
He opened the door to reveal Professor McGonagall in traveling robes that somehow managed to look both practical and impressively formal, flanked by a woman who could only be Aurora Sinclair and carrying what appeared to be an old leather boot.
"Good morning," McGonagall said briskly, stepping into the living room and taking in the assembled families with the assessing gaze of someone accustomed to managing complex group logistics. Her Scottish accent carried that crisp authority that could make even chaos feel organized. "I trust everyone is prepared for departure? We have a very precise schedule to maintain."
"Define prepared," May said with characteristic directness, gesturing at the chaos of luggage, nervous parents, and teenagers who seemed to be vibrating with equal parts excitement and terror. Her energy filled the room—warm, practical, and completely unintimidated by magical authority. "Because if prepared means 'packed and caffeinated,' we're good. If it means 'mentally ready to be launched through space by a magical boot,' then we might need a few more minutes."
Aurora Sinclair followed McGonagall into the room, and her presence immediately shifted the energy from nervous family chaos to something more official and organized. She was exactly the kind of person who could make international magical bureaucracy look like a sophisticated art form, with that particular quality of making complex situations feel both manageable and slightly theatrical.
"Good morning, families," Aurora said with warm professionalism, her voice carrying the kind of authority that made you feel like everything was going to work out perfectly because she was clearly the sort of person who had contingency plans for her contingency plans. "I'm Aurora Sinclair from MACUSA, and I'll be accompanying you through the international aspects of today's journey. I understand this is everyone's first experience with Portkey travel?"
A chorus of confirmations and nervous laughter filled the living room.
"Oh good," Phillip Watson said with that particular combination of intellectual fascination and barely contained anxiety, his hands gesturing expressively, "because I was, uh, I was worried this might be routine for everyone else and we'd be the only ones having that whole, you know, 'what if this goes catastrophically wrong' kind of thought process."
"Dad," MJ said with fond exasperation, her voice carrying that perfect blend of teenage mortification and genuine affection, "you literally spent an hour last night researching the theoretical physics of magical transportation. You know more about this than anyone else in the room."
"Theoretical knowledge, yes," Phillip replied, still gesturing, "but there's a significant difference between understanding something in principle and, uh, actually being launched through space by enchanted footwear."
"It's a boot, Phil," Madeline Watson said with gentle amusement, her warmth providing the perfect counterbalance to her husband's nervous energy. "A magical boot. We've moved past the footwear identity crisis."
"Excellent," Aurora continued with a reassuring smile that somehow made everyone feel like they were in extremely competent hands. "Then let me explain exactly what we're going to do, step by step, so everyone knows what to expect."
She gestured to the leather boot that McGonagall was now placing in the center of the coffee table with the kind of casual precision that suggested this was completely routine.
"This is our Portkey," she explained, "which has been enchanted to transport all of us to a designated arrival point near Hogwarts Castle. In approximately ten minutes, it will activate automatically, taking us from here to Scotland in about thirty seconds."
"Thirty seconds?" Harry asked, his voice carrying that particular combination of nine-year-old curiosity and the kind of direct intensity that made adults pay attention. "How fast are we going to be moving?"
"Well," Aurora replied with the kind of smile that suggested she genuinely enjoyed answering questions from curious children, "we won't technically be moving through space in the conventional sense. We'll be... folding space, essentially."
"Like origami but with geography?" Ned asked with immediate interest, his Jacob Batalon enthusiasm making everyone smile. "That's so cool!"
"How does it know when to activate?" Peter asked with that particular combination of scientific curiosity and barely contained excitement that made him bounce slightly on his feet.
"Magical chronometry," McGonagall replied crisply. "The spell is keyed to precise temporal coordinates that account for international time zones and magical transit schedules."
"So it's like a magical GPS?" Gwen asked with her systematic approach to understanding new concepts, her voice carrying that particular combination of scientific precision and genuine wonder.
"More like magical scheduling software," Helen Leeds said with practicality, "which honestly makes more sense than half the actual scheduling software I use at work."
"The precision required is actually quite remarkable," George Leeds added with thoughtfulness, "considering the variables involved in international time coordination."
"Essentially, yes," Aurora confirmed. "Though considerably more sophisticated than non-magical timing devices."
Walter Hardy, who had been examining the Portkey with the analytical eye he brought to security assessments, spoke up with that particular combination of polite curiosity and professional wariness.
"And this device has been tested for safety with groups this size? Forgive me, but in my professional experience, it's always worth confirming safety protocols before unusual procedures."
Felicia looked up at her father with affection mixed with slight embarrassment. "Dad, they've been using these things for centuries. I think they've probably figured out the safety stuff by now."
"Safety protocols are never a bad question, sweetheart," Walter replied with gentle authority. "Especially when the procedure involves magical transportation of my daughter to another continent."
McGonagall's expression softened slightly, as if she appreciated both the practical concern behind the question and the paternal protectiveness driving it.
"Mr. Hardy, Portkeys have been used for international magical travel for over three centuries. This particular Portkey has been specifically calibrated for a group of exactly this size and composition, and has been tested multiple times with equivalent loads."
"Plus," Aurora added with the kind of professional confidence that came from years of managing complex international magical logistics, "MACUSA and the British Ministry have coordinated all the necessary international clearances and emergency protocols. If anything goes wrong—which it won't—we have comprehensive backup plans."
"What kind of backup plans?" George Stacy asked with directness, because asking about contingencies was second nature for a police captain. "Because in my line of work, 'comprehensive backup plans' usually means someone thought of three different ways things could go sideways."
"Multiple redundant Portkeys, emergency contact protocols with both magical governments, medical support on both ends of the journey, and alternative transportation arrangements if needed," Aurora replied promptly. "Though again, these are purely precautionary measures."
"Alternative transportation?" Peter asked with immediate curiosity. "Like what? Flying carpets? Dragon-back rides?"
"Brooms, actually," McGonagall replied with what might have been amusement. "Though I suspect that would be considerably less comfortable for a group this size."
"Wait, flying brooms are real?" MJ asked with artist's fascination. "Like, actually real real?"
"Very real," McGonagall confirmed. "You'll be seeing quite a few of them during your time at Hogwarts."
"This is the best day ever," Ned said with pure joy. "We haven't even gotten to the magic castle yet and we're already talking about flying brooms."
Ben, who had been listening to this exchange with the focused attention of someone trying to understand unfamiliar but important systems, nodded approvingly with that particular combination of practical assessment and quiet confidence.
"That sounds thorough," he said. "I appreciate knowing that you've thought about the what-ifs. In my experience, the people who plan for problems that probably won't happen are usually the same people who make sure those problems actually don't happen."
"In magical travel," McGonagall said with dry humor, "thinking about the what-ifs is not optional."
May, who had been quietly observing this entire exchange while mentally cataloging every detail with the protective intensity that characterized her approach to anything involving Peter, suddenly spoke up with characteristic directness.
"Okay, but can we talk about the important stuff?" she said, fixing McGonagall with that particular combination of warmth and absolute determination. "Like, what happens if one of them gets motion sick during this magical boot transportation thing? Because Peter gets carsick on the highway sometimes, and I'm pretty sure magical space-folding is going to be significantly more intense than the BQE."
"Aunt May," Peter protested with teenage mortification, "I do not get carsick that often!"
"Honey, you turned green driving through the Holland Tunnel last month," May replied with fond maternal ruthlessness. "I love you, but you have the constitution of a delicate flower when it comes to moving vehicles."
"Portkey travel can indeed cause nausea," McGonagall acknowledged with the kind of practical understanding that came from years of dealing with student transportation logistics. "We have remedies available if needed."
"What kind of remedies?" Madeline Watson asked with maternal concern that was perfectly reasonable given that they were discussing magical space travel for their children.
"Magical anti-nausea draughts that are considerably more effective than non-magical alternatives," Aurora replied reassuringly. "Though in my experience, the disorientation is usually brief."
"Usually?" Phillip repeated with his tendency to focus on the qualifying words that suggested potential complications.
"Always brief for properly calibrated Portkeys," McGonagall clarified with crisp authority. "Which this one certainly is."
Harry, who had been unusually quiet during this official briefing, suddenly spoke up with that particular directness that characterized all his most important questions.
"Professor McGonagall, when we get to Hogwarts, will we be able to see everything? Like, all the places Peter and MJ and the others are going to be living and studying?"
His voice carried that particular quality of a nine-year-old trying to process the fact that his family was about to scatter across an ocean, mixed with genuine excitement about seeing a magical castle.
McGonagall's expression warmed considerably as she focused on Harry's concern, her Scottish accent softening with genuine kindness.
"Harry, Professor Dumbledore has planned a comprehensive tour that will show your family and friends every part of the castle that will be important to their daily lives. You'll see the dormitories, the common rooms, the Great Hall, the classrooms, the library, and quite a few other interesting locations."
"What about the secret passages?" Harry asked with nine-year-old hopefulness that made several adults smile. "Every old castle has secret passages, right?"
"Well," McGonagall replied with what might have been the ghost of a smile, "those wouldn't be secret if we showed them to everyone during official tours, would they?"
"That's fair," Harry agreed solemnly, then brightened with the kind of logical leap that characterized his approach to problem-solving. "But Peter can find some on his own and tell me about them in letters, right?"
"I suspect," McGonagall said with evident amusement, "that Peter and his friends will discover quite a few interesting features of Hogwarts that aren't included in the standard curriculum."
Peter grinned at this, his nervous energy shifting toward excitement for the first time that morning. The enthusiasm was starting to override the anxiety as he contemplated the possibilities.
"How much trouble are we allowed to get into while we're exploring?" he asked with the kind of carefully calculated innocence that both Ben and May recognized as a warning sign.
"Peter Benjamin Parker," May said with that particular combination of affection and maternal warning, "did you just ask a Hogwarts professor for permission to cause trouble?"
"I asked about acceptable parameters for exploratory activities," Peter replied with the kind of technical precision that fooled absolutely no one. "That's completely different."
"That depends entirely," McGonagall replied with crisp authority, "on whether your exploration is motivated by curiosity and learning, or by a desire to cause mischief."
"Definitely curiosity and learning," Peter replied immediately, with such obvious sincerity that several adults laughed.
"He really means that," Ben added with warmth, "but with Peter, curiosity and learning have a tendency to lead to... interesting situations."
"Like the time you were 'curious' about whether you could improve the efficiency of the school's ventilation system and accidentally triggered three fire alarms," MJ added with fond exasperation.
"That was one time!" Peter protested. "And I did improve the efficiency!"
"The fire department was very impressed," Harry said with the kind of deadpan delivery that suggested he'd heard this story multiple times. "Especially with your explanation of airflow dynamics."
"Then I suspect you'll find that Hogwarts is quite accommodating to curious students," McGonagall said. "Though I do recommend discussing your exploration plans with your Head of House before venturing into areas that might be... challenging."
"Challenging how?" MJ asked with immediate interest, because MJ had never met a challenge she didn't want to understand better. Her artist's instincts were clearly triggered by anything that sounded mysterious and potentially dangerous.
"Some parts of Hogwarts are more dangerous than others," McGonagall explained matter-of-factly. "Moving staircases, protective enchantments, areas restricted for safety reasons, and the occasional magical creature that has taken up residence in unused rooms."
"Moving staircases?" Gwen asked with fascination. "Like, they physically relocate themselves?"
"Frequently and without warning," McGonagall confirmed. "Part of the castle's charm, though it can be frustrating when you're late for class."
"Magical creatures living in the school?" Ned asked with obvious Jacob Batalon excitement. "What kind of magical creatures?"
"Nothing dangerous," McGonagall assured the parents, who were looking slightly alarmed. "Mostly things like house-elves, portraits that have developed personalities, and the occasional stray creature from Care of Magical Creatures classes."
"House-elves?" Helen Leeds asked with practical curiosity. "Like, magical housekeeping staff?"
"Essentially, yes, though considerably more complex than simple housekeeping," McGonagall replied. "They maintain the castle, prepare meals, and generally ensure that everything runs smoothly."
"Portraits with personalities?" Felicia asked with fascination. "Like, they can talk and everything?"
"Indeed. Some of them are quite chatty, actually. You'll find them very helpful for directions, though I should warn you that a few of them have rather strong opinions about proper student behavior."
"Strong opinions how?" George Stacy asked with wariness, because in his experience, authority figures with strong opinions about behavior usually meant trouble for teenagers.
"They may lecture you about study habits, proper corridor etiquette, or the importance of maintaining house pride," McGonagall replied with dry humor. "Nothing more threatening than mild disapproval and occasional nagging."
"So basically like having extra teachers everywhere," Walter Hardy said with understanding.
"More like having very opinionated grandparents everywhere," McGonagall corrected with what might have been amusement.
Aurora, who had been checking an ornate pocket watch during this conversation, looked up with that particular Meryl Streep combination of professional efficiency and theatrical timing.
"Two minutes until activation," she announced. "Everyone needs to position themselves around the Portkey now. Each person should maintain physical contact with both the Portkey and at least one other person in your group."
The next few minutes involved the kind of logistical complexity that only occurred when eleven people tried to arrange themselves around a small object while maintaining multiple points of contact. There was considerable discussion about optimal positioning, careful maneuvering around luggage, and the inevitable parental concerns about whether everyone was holding on properly.
"Okay, this is like the world's most complicated group hug," May said as she tried to maintain contact with both the boot and Peter while not stepping on anyone's luggage. "And I've organized Parker family reunions, so I know complicated group logistics."
"Physics suggests this shouldn't work," Phillip Watson said with fascination as he examined their human chain formation. "The spatial relationships here are, uh, they're really quite improbable."
"Dad, we're about to be transported by magic boot," MJ pointed out with logic. "I think we've moved past conventional physics."
"Actually, that's exactly why I'm interested in the physics," Phillip replied with characteristic enthusiasm. "The intersection of magical theory and spatial mechanics is, you know, it's really quite fascinating from a theoretical perspective."
"Phil," Madeline said with gentle amusement, "maybe save the theoretical analysis for after we survive the magical transportation?"
Harry positioned himself between Peter and Ben, gripping Peter's hand with the fierce protectiveness of a little brother who was about to watch his family disappear into an unknown world.
"Remember everything," he whispered to Peter with that particular intensity that made simple statements sound like vital missions. "Take pictures if you can. Write down anything interesting. And if anything scary happens, remember that you're brave and smart and you have good friends."
"I will," Peter promised quietly, squeezing Harry's hand. The sincerity in his voice carried all the weight of a sacred vow. "And I'll write you a letter tonight about everything that happens today."
"Every detail?"
"Every detail I can remember."
"Even the boring stuff?"
"Especially the boring stuff, because knowing you, the boring stuff will be the parts you find most interesting."
MJ, positioned on Peter's other side with her free hand clutching her father's arm, looked around at the circle of nervous, excited faces and grinned with sudden delight.
"This is actually happening," she said with wonder that made her sound younger than her fifteen years. "We're actually about to do magic travel to a magic castle in Scotland."
"I still can't quite believe it," Ned added with amazement. "Like, yesterday I was worried about chemistry homework, and now I'm holding hands with everyone while we wait to be launched through space by magical footwear."
"The homework is still going to be there when we get back," Gwen pointed out with practicality, though her voice carried excitement that suggested she wasn't particularly concerned about mundane academic obligations at the moment.
"Thirty seconds," Aurora announced, consulting her watch with professional precision.
The Portkey began to emit a soft blue glow that pulsed with increasing frequency, like a magical heartbeat building toward something significant.
"Oh," Felicia said with fascination as she stared at the glowing boot, "that's actually really beautiful. It's like... like a little star or something."
"A star that's about to launch us across an ocean," Walter Hardy said with dry humor, though his grip on his daughter's hand was gentle and protective.
Professor McGonagall's voice carried clearly over the mounting magical energy, her Scottish accent lending authority to the instructions. "Remember, the sensation is sudden and quite intense, but it's over quickly. Try to stay relaxed and maintain your grip on both the Portkey and each other."
"Define relaxed," George Leeds said with practical concern. "Because I'm not sure relaxed is a realistic expectation under these circumstances."
"Just don't let go," Helen Leeds added with maternal authority. "Whatever happens, nobody lets go of anybody."
"Fifteen seconds."
The blue glow intensified, and everyone could feel the magical energy building around them like pressure in the air before a thunderstorm.
Ben looked around the circle at his family and their friends, all connected by touch and shared purpose and the absolute trust that came with facing the unknown together. His steadiness anchored the group as he spoke with quiet confidence.
"Here we go," he said, his voice carrying the steady reassurance that had guided his family through every previous adventure and challenge. "Whatever happens next, we're doing it together."
"Ten seconds."
"I love you all," May said with warmth that somehow reached everyone in the circle, "and I'm proud of you, and if anyone gets motion sick, try not to aim for the shoes."
"Aunt May!" Peter protested, but he was laughing despite his nervousness.
"Five seconds."
The boot was now glowing so brightly that it was difficult to look at directly, and the magical energy felt like electricity in the air around them.
Harry squeezed Peter's hand tighter, his expression serious with the weight of saying goodbye and excited with the anticipation of adventure.
"Three... two... one..."
The world dissolved.
One moment they were standing in the familiar warmth of the Parker living room, surrounded by the comfortable chaos of home and family and everything safe and known. The scent of May's coffee, the morning sunlight through their kitchen window, the sound of ordinary Tuesday morning traffic outside—all of it suddenly, completely gone.
The next moment they were being yanked forward and up and impossibly sideways through space that folded and twisted in ways that made no geometric sense. The sensation was exactly as advertised—like being grabbed behind the navel by an invisible hook and dragged through reality at tremendous speed while the world became a blur of colors and sensations that human perception wasn't designed to process.
Wind that couldn't be felt roared in their ears. Light that had no source streamed past them in ribbons of impossible brightness. The very concept of up and down became meaningless as they tumbled through magical space that operated according to principles that had nothing to do with physics.
It lasted exactly thirty seconds, though it felt both like an eternity and like no time at all.
And then, just as suddenly as it had begun, it stopped.
They tumbled onto solid ground in a heap of arms and legs and trunks and family members, everyone slightly dizzy and disoriented but essentially intact. The morning light was different here—crisper somehow, with the particular quality of northern sunlight that suggested they were much farther north than they had been moments before.
"Everyone alright?" McGonagall asked briskly, straightening her robes with the efficiency of someone who made international Portkey trips regularly. "No one left behind? No one missing any important body parts?"
A chorus of groans, nervous laughter, and confirmations filled the Scottish morning air as eleven people slowly untangled themselves and took their first look around.
"That was..." Phillip Watson began with characteristic thoughtfulness, then paused, apparently unable to find adequate words for the experience, his hands gesturing helplessly.
"Horrible," Helen Leeds finished with feeling. "That was absolutely horrible."
"But fast," George Stacy added with philosophical acceptance of unpleasant but necessary procedures. "Definitely fast."
"I think I left my stomach somewhere over the Atlantic," Madeline Watson said weakly, but she was smiling as she helped MJ to her feet with maternal grace.
Walter Hardy, who was checking to make sure Felicia was steady, looked around with that particular combination of professional assessment and paternal concern.
"Where exactly are we?" he asked, taking in the landscape with careful attention.
And that was when they all looked up and saw it.
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry rose before them like something out of a dream or a fairy tale or the kind of illustration that belonged in the most magnificent children's book ever written. The castle seemed to grow out of the landscape itself, its towers and turrets reaching toward the Scottish sky with impossible grace and architectural audacity.
It was massive and ancient and beautiful in ways that made ordinary buildings seem like rough sketches by comparison. Towers spiraled upward with mathematical precision that somehow managed to look organic rather than calculated. Bridges connected different sections of the castle in graceful arcs that seemed to ignore the practical limitations of engineering. Windows caught the morning sunlight and threw it back in patterns that suggested the building itself was alive and aware.
The lake stretched out below the castle like a mirror reflecting sky and stone, with mountains rising beyond it in dramatic silhouette. The entire landscape looked like it had been arranged by someone with an artist's eye for perfect composition and a poet's understanding of how beauty could take your breath away.
"Oh my God," MJ breathed, her artist's eye taking in the architectural impossibilities with wonder and delight. "It's beautiful. It's absolutely beautiful."
"It's enormous," Ned added with awe, his voice carrying that particular reverence that came with seeing something that exceeded all possible expectations. "How does anyone find their way around something that big?"
"Very carefully," McGonagall replied with what might have been humor. "And with considerable help from the portraits, the ghosts, and the older students who remember what it was like to be lost for the first few weeks."
"There are really ghosts?" Gwen asked with immediate interest, because Gwen had never encountered a mystery she didn't want to investigate. "Like, actual transparent floating people ghosts?"
"Several. Most of them are quite helpful, though Sir Nicholas can be rather chatty, and the Bloody Baron is somewhat... intense."
Peter was staring at the castle with an expression that combined scientific fascination with aesthetic appreciation and the kind of wonder that came with seeing something that challenged everything he thought he understood about how the world worked.
"Professor McGonagall," he said slowly, his voice carrying the careful tone of someone trying to process architectural and magical impossibilities simultaneously, "how does the structural engineering work? I mean, those towers shouldn't be able to support themselves at those angles, and some of those bridges seem to be connecting to... nothing."
McGonagall's expression showed definite approval for the question, her Scottish accent warming slightly.
"Magic, Mr. Parker," she replied with a slight smile. "The answer to most of your architectural questions will be magic."
"But that's not really an answer," Peter protested with good-natured scientific frustration, his curiosity overriding any concern about challenging a professor. "Magic has to follow some kind of principles, some kind of rules. There has to be magical physics or magical engineering or something that explains how those bridges don't just fall into the lake."
"And that, Mr. Parker," McGonagall said with evident satisfaction, "is exactly the kind of curiosity that will serve you well in your studies. You'll find that magical theory can be quite as complex and systematic as any non-magical science."
"Really?" Peter asked with immediate excitement. "So there are actual magical laws of physics? Like, mathematical principles that govern how magic interacts with matter and energy and structural engineering?"
"Extensive ones," McGonagall confirmed. "You'll be learning several of them in your first year alone."
Harry, who had been unusually quiet during this exchange, was staring at the castle with an expression of wonder mixed with something that looked almost like recognition. His eyes focused on the ancient stones with an absorption that was unusual even for him.
"It looks like home," he said softly, so quietly that only Peter and Ben, standing closest to him, could hear. "I don't know why, but it looks like home."
Ben looked down at Harry with gentle understanding, recognizing the complex emotions that came with seeing a place that represented both tremendous possibility and inevitable separation.
"That's because it's going to be home for Peter and his friends," Ben said quietly. "And someday, it's going to be home for you too."
"Promise?" Harry asked with nine-year-old seriousness.
"Promise," Ben replied with the kind of quiet certainty that made promises feel like sacred vows.
Aurora, who had been allowing the family group time to absorb their first impression of Hogwarts, stepped forward with that particular combination of professional efficiency and dramatic timing.
"Now then," she said warmly, "shall we proceed to the castle? Professor Dumbledore is waiting to give you your tour, and we have quite a full day planned before this evening's shopping expedition to Diagon Alley."
"Shopping expedition?" May asked with interest, because May Parker had never met a shopping expedition she couldn't organize efficiently. "What kind of shopping? School supplies? Magical equipment? Please tell me it's not just books, because I've seen Peter's approach to textbook preservation."
"Hey!" Peter protested with wounded dignity. "I take good care of my books!"
"Honey, your chemistry textbook looks like it survived a small explosion," May replied with fond maternal ruthlessness. "Which, knowing you, it probably did."
"That was one time!" Peter said, while MJ, Ned, Gwen, and Felicia all exchanged looks that suggested it had been significantly more than one time.
As they gathered their luggage and followed McGonagall up the winding path toward the castle, the five American students naturally fell into the protective group formation that had become second nature over the past two years. Peter and MJ flanked Harry protectively, while Ned, Gwen, and Felicia formed a loose circle around them, all unconsciously coordinating their movements with the kind of intuitive teamwork that came from genuine friendship and shared experience.
"This is really happening," Felicia said with wonder as they walked toward the massive front doors. "We're really walking up to a magic castle in Scotland."
"I keep waiting to wake up," Ned agreed with Jacob Batalon amazement. "Like, this has to be the most elaborate dream ever."
"If this is a dream," Gwen said with practical consideration, "it's remarkably consistent with the laws of physics. Except for the magical parts, obviously."
Behind them, their parents walked with the careful steps of people navigating entirely new territory, but their faces showed wonder rather than worry as they took in the magnificent impossibility of the magical world their children were entering.
"You know," George Leeds said to his wife with thoughtful observation, "when they said 'magic school,' I was thinking something more like... I don't know, a slightly unusual building with some interesting special effects."
"Not a castle that looks like it was designed by architects who had very strong opinions about defying gravity," Helen agreed with practical amazement.
And ahead of them, Hogwarts waited—ancient and beautiful and full of secrets yet to be discovered, adventures yet to be had, and magic yet to be learned.
The massive front doors were easily three times the height of normal doors, made of dark wood that had been polished by centuries of use and carved with intricate patterns that seemed to shift slightly when viewed from different angles. They stood open in welcome, revealing a glimpse of the Great Hall beyond—vaulted ceilings that disappeared into shadow, floating candles that provided warm light without any visible means of support, and the sense of vast space filled with history and possibility.
"Welcome," said a warm, familiar voice from the doorway, "to Hogwarts."
Professor Dumbledore stood framed in the enormous entrance, his robes a deep blue that seemed to complement the Scottish sky, his beard neat and his eyes twinkling with the particular satisfaction of someone who had been looking forward to this moment for a very long time. There was something about his presence that suggested gravitas mixed with genuine delight—the kind of authority that came from wisdom rather than position, and the kind of warmth that made strangers feel like welcome guests.
"Professor Dumbledore," Ben said with respectful recognition, stepping forward with the kind of steady confidence that suggested he understood he was meeting someone genuinely important. "Thank you for welcoming us to your school."
"The pleasure is entirely mine, Mr. Parker," Dumbledore replied with warm formality. "Though I suspect that before this day is over, you may find that Hogwarts is as much yours as it is mine."
---
Hey fellow fanfic enthusiasts!
I hope you're enjoying the fanfiction so far! I'd love to hear your thoughts on it. Whether you loved it, hated it, or have some constructive criticism, your feedback is super important to me. Feel free to drop a comment or send me a message with your thoughts. Can't wait to hear from you!
If you're passionate about fanfiction and love discussing stories, characters, and plot twists, then you're in the right place! I've created a Discord (HHHwRsB6wd) server dedicated to diving deep into the world of fanfiction, especially my own stories. Whether you're a reader, a writer, or just someone who enjoys a good tale, I welcome you to join us for lively discussions, feedback sessions, and maybe even some sneak peeks into upcoming chapters, along with artwork related to the stories. Let's nerd out together over our favorite fandoms and explore the endless possibilities of storytelling!
Can't wait to see you there!