"Alright, everyone ready? Follow me."
Professor McGonagall swept her sharp gaze over the crowd, then led the first-years into the Great Hall.
The sight that met them first was four long house tables, upper-year students seated along either side, each beneath their own banner.
Above floated countless candles, and beyond them stretched a sky conjured by magic—the enchanted ceiling described in Hogwarts: A History.
At the teachers' table, the faculty sat in solemn rows. In front of them stood a small stool, upon which rested a battered, grimy wizard's hat.
Once the new students were gathered before the stool, Professor McGonagall invited Dumbledore to make his opening remarks.
"I have just a few start-of-term notices. First-years, pay close attention. The Dark Forest is strictly forbidden to all students."
"Furthermore, our caretaker, Mr. Filch, has asked me to remind you that the door on the right-hand side of the third-floor corridor is also out of bounds. Unless you wish to die a very painful death, do not approach it."
"Thank you."
Arthur nearly mouthed the words along. He'd read enough fanfics to have memorized this scene.
Then the Sorting Ceremony began. Professor McGonagall called names, each student stepping forward to don the Sorting Hat.
"Hermione Granger."
"Well now, let's see… clever, but also bold. You'd do well in Ravenclaw, but Gryffindor would suit you too. Which shall it be, child?"
"I don't mind either way, Mr. Sorting Hat. But—have you ever considered taking a bath?" Hermione asked, deadpan.
Having already heard her cousin's appraisal of the four houses, Hermione wasn't too worried where she landed. What nagged at her was something else entirely.
"Oh, what a delightful child! I actually suggested that very thing to Dumbledore once. But, as you can see from my current state, the answer was rather obvious."
"Well then… with your intelligence, you'll thrive anywhere. May you discover more than just wisdom here."
"Gryffindor!" the Hat bellowed.
Hermione removed it, whispering politely, "Thank you. Don't worry, I think your bath is coming sooner than you think."
She thought of her cousin's obsessive streak for cleanliness. That poor Hat was doomed to a Scouring Charm.
When Harry's turn came, Arthur watched him muttering under his breath. No doubt resisting Slytherin. He'd overheard Ron whispering about its bad reputation.
After much debate, the Hat finally announced the expected: "Gryffindor!"
The Gryffindor table erupted: "We got Potter! We got Potter!"
As for Ron, the Hat barely brushed his hair before shouting, "Another Weasley! Gryffindor!"
When it was his turn, he apologized softly to the Hat, then promptly cast a Scourgify. Gasps rippled through the Hall as he calmly placed the now-clean Hat on his head.
"Oh! So you're the one that girl mentioned earlier! She said my bath was coming soon."
"You mean Hermione? She's my cousin," Arthur replied.
"Yes, yes. Thank you, lad. If only you'd used water as well, I would still feel a little dry…"
"I'll come back another time and give you a proper wash. For now, please sort me—everyone's waiting."
"Very well. With your unmatched intellect and hunger for knowledge, Ravenclaw is your natural home."
"No, I'd like Gryffindor."
"Oh? Why? You do realize those lions are far from quiet scholars. You may not fit in."
"I promised Hermione's parents I'd look after her. And besides, knowledge is best pursued with companionship. It doesn't have to be lonely, does it?"
"…I see. A heart that values family and protection. Perhaps Gryffindor isn't so ill-suited after all."
"Then I'll wait for you in the Headmaster's office later—for a bath."
"Gryffindor!"
Cheers thundered from the Gryffindor table, rivaling even Harry's welcome.
A freshman who dared cast magic on the Sorting Hat itself? That won him instant admiration.
Arthur sat beside Hermione, while Fred and George quickly leaned over.
"That was brilliant, mate! How'd you think of casting a spell on the Hat?"
"By the way, he's Fred, I'm George. Ron's brothers."
"Oi! I'm George, he's Fred."
Arthur ignored their antics, replying coolly, "Nothing special. I just have a bit of a cleanliness problem."
"Oh! Even your excuse is cool!"
Professor McGonagall rapped her glass, silencing the Hall.
Dumbledore rose. "Welcome to Hogwarts! A new year begins! But first, let me say this: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you!"
Though they'd snacked on the train, sweets weren't filling. Harry and Ron immediately fell upon the feast, ravenous.
Hermione and Arthur ate at a gentler pace, having had a proper lunch. Hermione, curious as ever, asked Arthur what Dumbledore's strange words meant.
"My guess? Descriptions of the four houses."
"Ravenclaws think everyone else are nitwits; Gryffindors are so bold they think the other houses are cowards and crybabies; Slytherins worship pure-blood, calling everyone else worthless oddments; and Hufflepuffs are so earnest they think everyone else needs a tweak in character."
Linking his words to what she'd read about the houses, Hermione found the explanation surprisingly reasonable.
Partway through the feast, Hogwarts' ghosts came drifting in.
Hermione's eyes fixed on Nearly Headless Nick until Arthur stopped her sharply.
"Hermione! Rein in your curiosity! Think about what we're doing right now!"
"Trust me—don't go digging into a ghost's death, unless you want to lose your appetite entirely."
Hermione's face paled as she caught the implication in the nickname. She promptly dropped the matter and returned to her meal.
Afterwards, the prefects led each house to their dorms.
Watching the staircases constantly shifting, Arthur felt a foreboding. He suspected he'd be wasting plenty of time just finding his way around.
The Gryffindor common room proved spacious and cozy, its hearth roaring, its décor warm and welcoming.
Because his name came last, Arthur was also last in room assignments. To his delight, that meant he ended up with a single room.
A private space, free from disturbance—what could be better?
Back in his room, his owl Errol fluttered over.
"Hungry, little guy?" Arthur rubbed its head.
Errol nodded blankly.
After feeding it, Arthur washed up and was ready for bed when, at long last, his system stirred to life.
[Congratulations, host! You have unlocked the Life Achievement: "Magical Apprentice – Year One." Reward: one mini-game lottery draw.]
"…Huh??"
[This system is the Game of Life System. Just as games have achievements, so does life. Unlocking life achievements grants mini-game rewards.]
"Wait, didn't you say I had to beat a game before moving to the next one? What's with this mini-game business?"
[Mini-games are rewards tied to life achievements. Beating them will not unlock the next main game. They are small-scale challenges.]
"Alright, but what's the difference between a mini-game and Elden Ring?"
[Mini-games can be played entirely through your thoughts—no need to dive your consciousness in. Of course, you may choose to if you want. Unlike the main game, mini-games don't grant "materialization counts." Only their completion rewards are real. If you want to materialize something from a mini-game, you must spend an existing count.]
Originally, mini-games weren't meant to be materialized at all, only cleared for rewards. But the system had added that function as both a perk for Arthur and a way to drain some of his growing stock of materialization chances.
After all, Elden Ring alone carried forty-two achievements. The system worried that if it didn't burn through his counts, Arthur might one day demand to materialize the entire Lands Between.
Which technically, as Elden Lord, would indeed count as his possession.
(Arthur: Not a bad idea. I vote to spend a count on that!)
"Interesting. When farming runes gets dull, I can swap to something different. Nicely done, system."
"Alright then—spin up the mini-game draw."