The train ride passed in a blur of laughter and conversation, and before long, dusk settled in outside the windows. The Hogwarts Express began to slow, its steady clatter softening into an occasional groan.
"We're here," someone whispered.
The compartment buzzed with movement as students scrambled to change out of their Muggle clothes and into their Hogwarts robes.
Outside, the rain had begun — thin, persistent, and cold.
Alex shivered as he looked out at the grey drizzle coating the windowpane. He reached into his suitcase and pulled out a soft scarf, then gently wrapped it around Cho's neck.
"Wear this. It's cold out there."
Cho blushed, her fingers brushing the scarf, but she didn't protest.
As the train squealed to a final halt, the doors opened and waves of students spilled out. Alex and Cho joined the crowd.
"First years! First years, this way!"
A booming voice echoed across the platform.
There stood a towering figure, easily over three meters tall, broad enough to block the wind with his back alone. His shaggy hair and massive coat made him look like a bear in boots.
"That's Hagrid," Alex thought with a smile.
"I'll see you soon," he said to Cho with a nod.
"Good luck, Alex! I hope you're sorted into Ravenclaw," she said softly, her eyes warm with hope.
Alex's chest tightened just a bit. With a name like Gunter, his chances of ending up in Slytherin were practically set in stone. Pureblood lineage. Descendant of Salazar Slytherin himself.
But for her — for that look in her eyes — he'd try.
If the Sorting Hat could be reasoned with, he'd try to tilt fate.
He didn't want to end up in a house where half his dormmates might hiss at his mixed bloodline, and the other half might try to test his dueling skills in the first week.
Soon, the cluster of first-years gathered near Hagrid. He lifted an old lantern and led them down a winding path through the rain.
"Mind yer step! This bit's tricky!" he called back as they struggled through mud and wet stones.
Hagrid's lantern cast only a dim halo.
Alex pulled out his wand. "Lumos."
A pale, silver-white light bloomed at the wand's tip, lighting the path around him.
The students behind him sighed in relief.
"Wow, Ron, look! He's brilliant!"
Alex turned around at the familiar voice and found himself looking into the wide eyes of Harry Potter and the ever-enthusiastic Ron Weasley.
Harry looked slightly sheepish under the attention. "Uh — hi. I'm Harry. Harry Potter. This is Ron."
Alex gave them a polite nod. "Nice to meet you. I'm Alex Gunter."
Harry noticed right away that Alex didn't gasp or stare at his name. No wide eyes. No excited stammering.
Instantly, Harry felt more relaxed.
"You... you're from a Muggle family too?" he asked.
"I mean... are you?"
"Sort of," Alex said with a smile that gave nothing away.
Harry lit up. "That's cool! I met a girl on the train — Hermione Granger. She's from a Muggle family too, but she's already learned magic. She fixed my glasses with a spell!"
Alex chuckled softly. "I just read ahead, that's all. Got lucky and picked up a spell or two."
He wasn't avoiding Harry, not intentionally. He just didn't want to fall into the gravity well that surrounded the Boy Who Lived. But a casual friendship? That was fine.
Let Dumbledore try to set traps. Alex would just step lightly.
Harry scratched the back of his head, looking a little embarrassed. "I tried reading the books, but I couldn't make anything work. No spark or light or anything."
"You'll get it. Most magic doesn't work without a wand," Alex said kindly.
"Ron says Gryffindor's the best house," Harry added. "I just hope I don't get put in Slytherin."
Ron nodded furiously beside him. The Weasleys would probably exile anyone who ended up in green and silver.
Alex gave a wry smile.
He glanced at the memory of a certain soft hand in his, a delicate voice saying "I hope you go to Ravenclaw"...
"I'm hoping for Ravenclaw, honestly. Feels... right."
"Really? Why?" Harry asked.
Alex blinked. "No reason. Just think it suits me better."
He wasn't about to admit he thought Cho would look lovely sitting across from him at the dinner table each day.
The boats awaited at the lake's edge. Four students to a boat, and Alex climbed into one with Harry, Ron, and a quiet, mousy boy who hadn't said a word.
The boats glided silently across the black water. The rain had slowed to a drizzle, and the castle loomed ahead — majestic and ancient, its glowing windows blinking through the mist.
When Hagrid called for them to duck their heads beneath a low stone arch, Alex had to stop himself from laughing.
Even with his enormous frame hunched down, Hagrid was still taller than the tallest first-year. Yet everyone obediently ducked along with him.
Eventually, the boats reached the landing. One by one, they climbed out, and Hagrid led them through the tunnel, across the grass, and up to the towering front gates.
The castle doors creaked open.
Standing there was a stern-looking witch with a pointed emerald hat, her lips pursed tight, her robes immaculate.
Professor McGonagall.
Even the chatty students fell silent.
"All first-years are here, Professor McGonagall," Hagrid said.
"Thank you, Hagrid. I'll take it from here."
She gave a subtle flick of her wand, and instantly, the soaked robes of the students dried, their hair neatened, their boots cleaned.
The children stared in awe.
With a sharp turn, she led them into the entrance hall.
Alex's breath caught in his throat.
The Great Hall opened before them like a dream: floating candles above four long tables, golden plates and goblets, walls lined with ancient tapestries, and a ceiling enchanted to look like the starry sky.
At the very front, the staff sat at a high table. Dumbledore — unmistakable, with his half-moon glasses and silver beard — was speaking quietly to Snape.
And at the very center of the stage... sat the Sorting Hat.
Old, patched, and fraying — but unmistakably alive.
Professor McGonagall didn't lead them all the way through the hall, but stopped them near the entrance and arranged them into neat rows.
Many older students glanced their way, whispering, watching.
McGonagall stepped forward.
"Welcome to Hogwarts," she said. "In a moment, you will be sorted into one of four houses. This house will be your home while you are here, your family. It is where you will eat, sleep, and learn."
"I will call your name. Step forward, sit on the stool, and place the Sorting Hat on your head. It will decide where you belong."
Alex stood with the other first-years, straight and calm.
His heart was pounding, but his face showed nothing.
His fingers brushed the handle of his wand.
The castle smelled of candle wax and ancient stone. The Sorting Hat waited.
He looked around at the golden glow of the hall, the high ceiling painted in starlight, and the four tables filled with expectant faces.
Hogwarts.
He was finally here.
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