"First-years! Over here!"
The booming voice rang out across the little station, making every young wizard gawking around jump in fright.
"Oh my gosh!"
Ark caught the faint cry of a terrified student.
And no wonder. The owner of that thunderous voice was enormous.
He stood well over three meters tall, wrapped in an oversized moleskin coat. With a lantern swinging in one hand, the light caught on his rough-hewn face. Disheveled, shaggy, and towering—he looked like the sort of man who could make children burst into tears on sight.
At least, the Muggle-borns were pale with fright. Even kids from wizarding families startled at his size. Only the obvious upperclassmen seemed unfazed; they slipped off the train and headed on their way without a backward glance.
"He's massive," Hermione whispered beside Ark. He blinked in surprise—he hadn't even noticed her sidle up to him. Her eyes were wide as she stared at the giant of a man.
"I'll bet anything he's got giant blood," Neville stammered as he crept closer, trembling.
Ark didn't answer. His attention lingered on the man with open curiosity.
Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper of Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. A half-giant with an overwhelming love of magical creatures and a knack for befriending most of them. And—if Ark remembered correctly—the one who had led Harry Potter himself into the Wizarding World.
Harry Potter.
The thought made Ark glance around, searching for the famous Boy Who Lived.
But before he could spot him, Hagrid's booming voice filled the station again.
"Follow me! I'll take yeh up to the castle!"
The first-years shuffled forward at his call, filing after the giant toward the station doors.
"Come on," Hermione urged. Neville trailed after her like a nervous puppy. Ark fell into step behind them, hanging back a little as his eyes roamed over the unfamiliar surroundings.
Outside the station, the group slipped into a dense forest. A narrow path wound through the trees. There were no lanterns here—only shadows and the sound of uneasy breaths as the young wizards pressed on.
Fortunately, the trail was short. In moments, the trees thinned, and the view burst open.
A vast lake stretched before them.
Ark drew in a quiet breath. The expanse of water was larger than the lake near his home, but what made it eerie was the blackness. The surface was pitch-dark, as though even the water itself had turned black. Unlike back home, where fireflies glimmered over the water even at night, this lake was swallowed in shadow.
"Four to a boat! Don't waste time!"
Hagrid strode down to the shore, climbing into the lead vessel. He gestured to the little wooden boats bobbing by the bank.
Students scrambled aboard. Ark found himself sharing a boat with Hermione and Neville, plus another boy—a Muggle-born, judging by his wide-eyed silence—who didn't say a word.
Soon the flotilla stirred to life. One by one, the boats glided off the shore, falling neatly into line behind Hagrid's. No one rowed; they moved as if by magic, smooth and steady, carrying the children across the dark waters.
It was said that a thousand years ago, four great wizards had followed this very path, crossed this very lake, and founded Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
Godric Gryffindor, Salazar Slytherin, Rowena Ravenclaw, and Helga Hufflepuff. Each had given their name to one of the four Houses, choosing students according to their ideals and values.
Ever since, every first-year had retraced their journey, crossing the Black Lake to reach the castle for the first time. Older students had no need for such ceremony.
"Mind yer heads!"
Hagrid's voice echoed again. They were approaching a low archway. Startled, the young wizards ducked at once, hearts racing—only to discover they needn't have bothered. Even standing, their small eleven-year-old frames would never have hit the stone. The warning was meant for Hagrid alone. Without ducking, his great head would've scraped the arch.
Faces flushed with embarrassment. More than a few students shot Hagrid dirty looks.
"You didn't duck," Hermione accused, glaring at Ark.
He laughed. "I was just surprised. Anyone could tell there was no need for us to duck."
His words only deepened the collective blush. Hermione and the others looked sheepish.
So gullible.
Some of the girls sneaked a glance at Ark's easy smile and promptly blushed harder. Well, if he looked that good, maybe they could forgive him.
The boats sailed on. And then—suddenly—the view broke wide open again.
At last, Hogwarts came into sight.
The castle loomed high on the cliff above them, its soaring towers and sharp spires silhouetted against the night. Gothic stonework rose stark and majestic over the Black Lake. It wasn't pretty in the way of fairy-tale castles—but it was magnificent all the same, glowing with firelight from within, vast enough to hold thousands.
"There it is… Hogwarts," Hermione breathed, awestruck.
Ark's chest swelled. His eyes gleamed with excitement he could no longer hide. He had made it. Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
The boats bumped gently against the far shore. Excitement rippled through the students as they scrambled out, eager to set foot inside the legendary castle.
Lantern held high, Hagrid led the way up the slope to the enormous front doors. He raised a massive fist and banged against the wood.
The doors creaked open. A witch in emerald-green robes stepped out.
Minerva McGonagall. Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts, Head of Gryffindor House—the very professor who had ushered Ark into the Wizarding World a month ago.
"First-years for you, Professor McGonagall," Hagrid rumbled.
"Thank you, Rubeus," she replied crisply. Her sharp eyes swept over the crowd. The weight of her gaze alone was enough to make several students stiffen. Even Hermione shrank back, unable to meet her eye.
Ark didn't flinch. He met her look with a small smile and dipped his head politely.
The corner of McGonagall's mouth twitched upward—so fleeting it was almost invisible—before she restored her stern expression.
"First-years, follow me."
She led them inside and down a hall to a small chamber. Her voice echoed against the stone walls.
"Welcome to Hogwarts."
"The Start-of-Term Feast is about to begin. Your upperclassmen are already in the Great Hall, waiting for you."
"But before you join them, you must be Sorted into your Houses." Her tone was clear and commanding. "The Sorting is an important ceremony and tradition. While at school, you will take classes, live, and spend your free time with your Housemates."
"Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin—each House has its own noble history and its own values, and all have produced outstanding witches and wizards."
"Your achievements will earn your House points. Your mistakes will cost your House points. At the end of the year, the House with the most points will be awarded the House Cup—a great honor."
"I expect every one of you to bring glory to whichever House you join."
She turned sharply on her heel.
"The Sorting Ceremony will take place before the entire school. Use these last moments to tidy yourselves up."