It took a while for Harry to snap out of it, still staring at Charlie in awe.
"Charlie, you're like the devil incarnate."
Ron nodded fervently. He'd never heard such earth-shattering insults in his life. He silently vowed never to get on Charlie's bad side.
He really didn't want his mum to be the next target.
Harry, a little bashful, rubbed his hands together.
"Do you think… you could teach me?"
Back at the Dursleys, he'd insulted Dudley a few times, but compared to Charlie's verbal artillery?
He was basically tickling his enemies.
If he could learn Charlie's art of the flame war, he'd roast Dudley into ashes.
Charlie lit up. This was the pinnacle of his previous life's keyboard warrior career, refined through years of online battles.
A true masterpiece of verbal warfare.
Seeing Harry interested, he felt a rare sense of kinship.
"Insulting people is an art," Charlie began solemnly.
"It's all about precision strikes and full-area coverage."
"What does that mean?" asked Ron.
"The core technique is simple, start with their mother as the center point, then work your way out in a three-generation radius. No blind spots."
Ron blinked.
"Wait, what?"
"Basically, from their grandparents to their grandkids, insult them all, especially their mum. She gets the VIP treatment."
Harry chuckled awkwardly, a flicker of hesitation in his eyes.
Dudley was his cousin, which technically meant… they shared relatives.
Maybe this wasn't the right strategy after all.
Just then, the train began to slow down, and the magical intercom rang out:
"Hogwarts, arriving soon! All students, please prepare to disembark."
The three quickly gathered their things and stepped out of the compartment.
The night air was crisp and cool, and the station was buzzing with noise.
"First years! First years, over here!"
A massive figure stood tall above the crowd, it was Hagrid.
He held up a lantern and called out with a booming voice.
Charlie and the others hurried over to join the other first years gathering around Hagrid.
"Oh, Harry!"
Hagrid waved enthusiastically when he spotted him.
"All here? Good, this way now!"
He turned and led the group forward.
"Watch your step."
They followed a narrow, winding path. Dense trees lined both sides, blocking out the moonlight, leaving only Hagrid's lantern to cast flickering light ahead.
The younger students instinctively huddled together, shrinking closer as nerves set in.
The already narrow path became cramped.
Charlie was getting irritated.
Bloody hell, someone keeps brushing my butt.
He pulled out his wand.
"Lumos."
A soft light blossomed at the tip of his wand, illuminating the path.
"We can see the road now!"
The first years cheered and naturally gathered around him.
Hagrid glanced back and saw a crowd of children following a lone, elegant figure like stars orbiting a moon.
He froze for a moment.
That graceful stride, that natural charisma, it reminded him of someone.
Merlin's mismatched socks, Hagrid thought. This year's batch has a real gem.
Soon, they arrived at a black lake.
"No more than four to a boat!" Hagrid called, pointing to a row of little boats docked by the shore.
Charlie, Harry, and Ron naturally took one boat, and a nervous-looking boy took the fourth spot.
The boy clung tightly to the boat's edge, clearly terrified.
"Forward!" Hagrid shouted.
The boats glided smoothly across the water, moving all on their own, no paddles, no hands.
Just magic.
Then the castle appeared.
The moment Hogwarts came into view, gasps filled the air.
Towering high on a cliff, the castle's spires pierced the starry sky. Its windows shimmered in the night, reflected in the black lake's waters.
Moonlight danced on its ancient stone walls, giving it an air of mystery and majesty.
Charlie was dumbstruck.
Seeing the legendary wizarding castle in person took his breath away.
"So this is Hogwarts," Harry whispered, awestruck.
Even Ron, who'd grown up in the magical world, was equally stunned, this was his first time seeing it, too.
The boats docked at a small harbor beneath the castle.
"Mind your heads!" Hagrid warned.
They ducked under a rocky archway draped in ivy and emerged into a clearing before the castle gates.
Hagrid raised a giant fist and knocked three times.
The massive doors creaked open.
Professor McGonagall stood there in her emerald robes and pointed hat.
Hagrid handed the students off to her.
She opened the door wide, revealing a grand entry hall beyond.
"Welcome to Hogwarts," McGonagall said clearly, her voice echoing off the high ceilings.
"The Welcoming Feast is about to begin, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you must first be sorted into your Houses."
She explained the four Houses of Hogwarts: Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin.
"The Sorting Ceremony will begin in a few minutes. I suggest you tidy yourselves up before then."
With that, she turned and left.
The first years immediately broke into nervous whispers.
"I'm so nervous. Does anyone know how we're getting sorted? Say something to comfort me," Harry pleaded.
Ron looked pale.
"I heard from my brother... we have to fight a troll, and whoever wins gets sorted."
Harry: "..."
Yeah, thanks, I feel so much better now.
Behind them, a bushy-haired little girl had gone completely white, muttering spells under her breath, trying to figure out which one might work against a troll.
Hearing her whisper only made Harry more anxious.
He didn't even know a single spell. If they really had to fight a troll, he'd be minced meat by the end of the night.
Charlie glanced at the two of them.
Are they idiots?
Boss battle on the first day? Is this a school or a damn bootcamp?
Soon, McGonagall returned.
"Line up in a single file. Follow me."
The Great Hall doors swung open.
They were greeted by a majestic sight, hundreds of floating candles bobbed in the air above.
Four long tables stretched down the hall, each one packed with students.
The tables sparkled with golden plates and goblets.
At the far end sat a high table perpendicular to the rest, that was the staff table.
Charlie glanced toward it and spotted an elderly man with a beard so long it nearly reached the floor.
He smiled warmly.
That had to be Dumbledore.
The first years shuffled forward nervously, all eyes on them.
The weight of so many stares only made them more anxious.
McGonagall placed a four-legged stool in front of them.
On top of it was a worn, patchy hat.
Suddenly, the hat split open at the brim, like a mouth, and began to sing:
🎵 "You might think I'm not much to see..." 🎵
Well… he's not wrong.
Can't say he's ugly, but... definitely not pretty.
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200 P.S = 1 Extra Chapters