"So, are you excited for classes?" Terry asked, making the kind of small talk you'd expect from a Ravenclaw.
The two chatted for a while, and before long, other students joined in—two of them also first-years: Michael Corner and Anthony Goldstein.
It was amazing how easily children made friends. Of course, being placed in the same House—Ravenclaw—helped break down barriers.
And unlike Ron, none of them lingered too long on Noah being a Gray. To them, that was just a rich, powerful family. But sitting across from them, Noah was just another kid starting out in magic.
The beauty of youth.
At one point during the conversation, Noah let his attention drift toward the staff table.
His eyes settled on the one who drew everyone's attention: the old headmaster, Dumbledore. Among them all, he was the one Noah was most curious about.
So… just how far ahead are you?
He had forgotten to use his eye in his first meeting with Dumbledore.
His eyes gleamed as he activated his Revealing Eye. But the moment he did, something strange happened—Dumbledore turned and looked straight at him.
For several seconds, their gazes locked. Then the headmaster calmly looked away.
What the hell…
Cold sweat trickled down Noah's back. He had no doubt the old man had sensed something.
That alone made him wonder if Dumbledore was some kind of magical monster. It was the first time anyone had reacted to his eyes.
Well… it is still a form of magic like any other. It makes sense it could leave traces, he reasoned, slowly calming himself. Maybe I need to find a way to make it more subtle. Or erase the residue it leaves on me…
Even so, it was shocking. For Dumbledore to sense what no one else ever had—there was only one explanation. The man was extremely powerful, and incredibly sensitive to magic.
Better be careful around this old man. Noah made a mental note, leaving a space open to add more details later. Of course, he knew Dumbledore from the books, but the man was layered, complex.
He had also heard a lot about Dumbledore from Nick. But the old alchemist was often blind when it came to his friend. Noah would put everything aside and focus on his own interaction with the headmaster.
Good or evil? Such a figure couldn't be boxed into simple categories.
If good was white and evil was black, then Dumbledore was the purest shade of gray. His actions were driven by ideals, aiming for the greater good. How could that be called evil?
But for the greater good came sacrifices, and schemes. At this point in time, Dumbledore didn't yet believe Harry had to die to defeat Voldemort. That conviction would only take root after the second year, during the events of the Chamber of Secrets—when the diary proved Voldemort had Horcruxes.
When that happens… maybe his gray will darken further.
After all, who has the right to decide the life of another? All in the name of the greater good?
But Noah understood the truth: it was always about power. The strong decided for the weak, and good and evil were just different perspectives.
These hypocritical thoughts that swirled through his mind amused him. He himself was full of masks and would do anything for power or to achieve his goals and protect those he desired. 'Fuck it, being a hypocrite is beautiful.'
For now, in the wizarding world, Dumbledore was the light. A hero.
If you defeat someone called a Dark Lord, doesn't that automatically make you a savior?
Thinking of Dark Lords, Noah's gaze drifted again across the staff table.
He spotted the half-giant Hagrid, the half-goblin Flitwick, stern McGonagall, and finally, his eyes rested on the young professor in purple robes, with a turban wrapped around his head.
How ironic. Voldemort was sitting just a few meters away from Dumbledore—at his weakest.
Is he afraid, I wonder? Noah muttered to himself, amused.
When dinner ended, no one left. Dumbledore had announcements to make. With the Hall silent, his words echoed clearly.
"First-years should note that the forest on the grounds is strictly forbidden. Mr. Filch, our caretaker, would like me to remind you that magic is not permitted in the corridors between classes.
The Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term. And finally, I must inform you that the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to anyone who does not wish to die a most painful death."
Some new students laughed at the last part, but the serious looks on the older students' faces quickly killed the humor.
"You think he's serious?" Terry whispered.
Noah knew he meant the warning about the third floor.
"Yeah, I think so," Noah answered with a shrug. "Either way, there's no reason for us to go there."
Which was true. Unless you were absurdly curious—or part of the Golden Trio trying to stop Voldemort—there was no reason to wander in.
After that came the school anthem—everyone singing in different tunes and rhythms, which was… at the very least, bizarre.
When the feast ended, the prefects led the new students to their Houses.
Noah followed, quietly observing everything—the moving staircases, the peculiar portraits that waved, spoke, or simply stared as they passed. The journey dragged on, endless stairs spiraling upward.
At last, they stopped in front of a bronze eagle-shaped knocker.
The entrance to Ravenclaw Tower was on Hogwarts' west side, and unlike Gryffindor's password-guarded door, Ravenclaws had to answer a riddle posed by the eagle knocker.
After the prefect gave the correct answer, they filed into the common room.
It was spacious and beautiful, with a proud statue of Rowena Ravenclaw, a private library for the House, blue drapes and carpets, and tall windows offering a breathtaking view of the starry sky.
Noah walked over to a window, taking in the scenery.
The prefect explained breakfast was at 7:30 sharp, reminded them that roaming the castle at night was forbidden, and assured them they could always approach him with questions.
When the announcements ended, the new students practically rushed to their dorms. After such a long day, their young bodies begged for rest.
The Ravenclaw dorms weren't single rooms. Each had two bunk beds, four beds total. Noah ended up with Terry, Michael, and Anthony.
"Top bunk's mine!" Terry shouted, scrambling up. Noah chuckled and took the bottom.
On the other bed, after a round of rock-paper-scissors, Anthony claimed the top.
They chatted only a little before exhaustion took over.
"Whoever wakes up first makes sure the others don't oversleep," they agreed. Little did they know, that promise would haunt them for years to come.
Noah collapsed into bed, placed his wand beside him, and closed his eyes. The day had been long, far more eventful than anything he was used to. Yet he fell asleep with a smile.
Today he had talked and laughed with people his age. He had seen magic everywhere. Maybe, just maybe, he'd even made some friends.
Outside, a fine drizzle fell over Hogwarts.
That night, Noah dreamed.
A hazy, confusing dream.
He was flying—desperately flying—toward a ruined place. The sun in the sky was swallowed by heavy, dark clouds. When the light vanished and darkness ruled, panic rose in his chest. He sped up.
"No! You shouldn't have come!"
A woman's voice, filled with fear and urgency, echoed around him.
"Noah!"
He jolted awake, drenched in sweat, a hollow emptiness clawing at his chest.
"Was that… a nightmare?" he muttered. Then frowned.
"What nightmare?" He was forgetting…
A thought surfaced—an urge to write it down before it slipped away. Forgetting was unusual for him.
But before he could conjure parchment, the thought itself vanished. Even the intent to record it was gone.
He blinked, confused, then yawned and stretched, curling back into his blankets.
As if nothing had happened.
Still wrapped up, he shuffled to the window and sat on the sill. Raindrops streaked the glass.
Night, his owl, gave him a sleepy glance from her cage before tucking her head back under her wing.
Through the misty glass, Noah could see the edge of the Forbidden Forest and the Black Lake. Both shrouded in a heavy gray fog, they looked anything but inviting.
He cupped his hands to his mouth and blew. The warmth lingered longer than it should have, heat clinging to his fingers for minutes afterward.
"What time is it?" he murmured, opening his trunk and stepping down into its expanded space.
From a drawer, he retrieved a silver mechanical pocket watch.
"So early…" he yawned. The watch read 5:57.
Clutching it, he climbed back out, returned to the window, and watched the rain fall.
The dorm was quiet. Only the soft breaths of his roommates and the patter of rain broke the silence. A perfect morning to sleep in.
What was that the Hat said…?
For someone to enchant the Sorting Hat, they'd have to be incredibly powerful. Or maybe… it wasn't enchantment at all. Maybe it was prophecy, using the living artifact as a vessel.
Both options sounded absurd. Why would a powerful wizard bother to send him a cryptic riddle and force him into Ravenclaw?
And prophecy? That was even harder to believe. Maybe it could deliver the riddle… but influence his placement? No. Impossible.
He repeated the words in his head over and over, but their meaning slipped through his grasp.
"When the common is found…" Did that mean a person? An object? Was he overlooking something?
Pushing the thought aside, Noah turned and smiled at Night, stroking her feathers through the cage bars.
He stayed like that for a while, petting his owl and watching the rain, until he finally decided to take an early walk around the castle.