Amid the whistle of steam, the red-and-black train chugged along with the Hogwarts students, cutting through meadows, forests, and lakes. Finally, as night fell, it was about to pull into the last stop: Hogsmeade village.
Rey kept up his noble act the whole way, never letting it slip for a second. But pretending to be some high-class wizard? Man, that was exhausting.
Not only did he have to watch every word and move he made, but he also had to constantly figure out what the little girl was thinking.
Guessing her thoughts wasn't rocket science, but it sure wasn't Rey's strong suit.
In his past life, he was a tech guy—reading the boss's mind? Not his thing. Sometimes, the boss had to read his instead.
Playing noble for a day was doable, but a whole lifetime? Rey couldn't even picture it.
To ease his guilt about tricking the kid, Rey told Agnes some fairy tales from his old life—stuff like Hans Christian Andersen's The Emperor's New Clothes, Snow White, Cinderella, you name it.
Didn't matter if you were fancy or not; kids ate that stuff up.
Even though the little girl kept her cool, acting all uninterested, when Rey hit the good parts, her face totally gave away how hooked she was on what happened next.
He snuck in some solid life lessons too—right and wrong, good values. He hoped it'd subtly steer her straight. She was only eleven; her mind wasn't set in stone yet. Maybe there was still time.
The train started slowing down as the sky went dark.
"In five minutes, the train will arrive at Hogwarts. Please leave your luggage on board; we'll take it to the school for you..."
The announcement echoed through the cars, and it reminded the first-years to change into their robes they'd bought.
Rey threw on a robe and grabbed a tie from his stuff.
The tie had him stumped. He'd flipped his shirt collar up and looped it around his neck, but tying it? Clueless.
In his past life, almost thirty years old, and he'd never tied one. When Agnes glanced over, Rey just gave an awkward grin.
The girl, who only came up to his ears, stepped up and took the tie from around his neck.
Hard to believe this icy little thing would tie it for him. They were standing so close, he could smell her faint, sweet scent.
"She's really something," Rey thought, murmuring a thanks.
"No need. Aren't we classmates in the same house?"
Her words made her sound way older than eleven. And she seemed dead set on him ending up in Slytherin. Like, as a housemate, that's why she'd help.
His subtle mind-shaping? Not working fast, apparently. From the looks of it, fixing her outlook had flopped.
Honestly, Rey didn't care which house he got. He was at Hogwarts to learn magic—any house would do. As a guy with a thirty-year-old mind, he could roll with whatever.
But Agnes? She was dead serious about it. Felt like if he didn't land in Slytherin, it'd be like betraying her.
Their short time on the train had convinced Rey: if she thought he was lying, things could get ugly.
"If I can swing it, Slytherin it is," he figured. After all, fooling a kid wasn't his style. Even if she assumed it on her own, it still felt deceptive.
"Uh, Agnes? About sorting... we don't get to pick, right? The Sorting Hat decides..."
Before they left the compartment, Rey tossed out a heads-up.
"Of course," she said. "Any house is fine. Me? I'd actually prefer Ravenclaw..."
Her voice was sweet, eyes twinkling. That grin—like she'd pulled off a prank—added a playful spark to her usual ice-queen vibe.
Her answer left Rey frozen for a beat. This sudden switch hit hard; he'd pegged her as a Slytherin die-hard.
By the time he snapped out of it, Agnes had already hopped off the train.
"What the heck?"
Rey replayed her behavior in his head, stunned. He'd overthought the whole thing.
He'd assumed she idolized Slytherin because of her pure-blood family and that scene at the station. Total bias on his part.
But now? Turns out her head was on straight, values solid. She probably wouldn't have minded him in the compartment even without the noble act.
It all felt like she'd been messing with him.
But she was only eleven!
A grown man with a thirty-year-old soul, toyed with by a kid. Rey could only shake his head in defeat.
"Ugh, the wizarding world is a mystery..." he muttered with a wry smile, stepping off the train. His assumptions? Way off base.
Sure, it was embarrassing, but Rey was kinda relieved. A girl that pretty shouldn't turn into some Muggle-hater or pure-blood snob.
...
"First-years, over here!"
Rey barely off the train when a booming voice hit him.
Hagrid, the Hogwarts giant, stood there like a mountain, right hand holding a massive lantern.
"Whoa, he's huge."
"Look at that beard—and his gut..."
Hagrid's size had all the kids buzzing. He wore a grimy coat, with a wild beard tangled in shoulder-length hair. His face beamed kindly, lit up by the lantern.
"Everyone here? Any more first-years? ...Alright, follow me then."
After a few shouts, Hagrid led them into the woods, heading downhill.
This had to be the path to the Black Lake for the boats. Rey tagged along in the crowd, pushing forward.
The narrow trail twisted down; tough in the dark, but Hagrid took it slow, so the fumbling kids kept up.
At the end, after a flat stretch, they burst out of the trees onto the lakeside dock.
"Whoa..."
Gasps rippled through the first-years. Across the lake, the castle loomed on the cliffs, epic in the night.
Even Rey couldn't help but whisper a few awed words.
"Listen up: no more than four per boat."
Hagrid herded the clustered kids, then claimed a whole boat for himself.
Each boat had a lantern, so Hagrid could check on everyone.
The boats glided off—no oars splashing, no engine rumble. They just carried on silently.
As the cliff-top castle grew closer, the boats slipped into the dock below amid more amazed sighs.
Once everyone disembarked, Hagrid guided them up a tunnel, through a huge door, and right to the castle's Great Hall entrance.
...
Torches flickered everywhere inside, warming things up and chasing away the outdoor chill.
The first-years rounded a corner, climbed some stairs, and there was Professor McGonagall in her emerald robes and black witch's hat, waiting by the doors.
"Welcome to Hogwarts..."
As deputy headmistress, she was strict but fair. She explained the four houses: Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Slytherin, and Ravenclaw.
And, of course, the upcoming Sorting Ceremony.
When she finished, McGonagall swung open the hall doors, unleashing a buzz of chatter.
The hall was massive—hundreds of people, but it didn't feel cramped.
Following McGonagall, Rey and the others marched in under the older students' stares.
It was magical, just like in the movies. Candles floated overhead, lit up, and above that? An endless starry sky.
Magic was seriously awesome!
Rey marveled, trailing the group to the steps below the Sorting Hat.
Once they stopped, the hat on the stool burst into song.
Well, "song" might be generous—it rambled, spitting out whatever came to mind. History of the houses, what it did.
Not exactly tuneful; kinda grating. If Rey wasn't curious about the lyrics, he might've tuned out.
But hey, seeing a movie scene live? Gave him that know-it-all vibe. Even bad singing sounded epic.
When it wrapped, the hall erupted in applause, and the hat soaked it up. New song every year, thunderous claps every time.
Applause died down, and McGonagall grabbed a parchment scroll, stepping by the hat. "When I call your name, come sit on the stool and put on the hat for sorting."
"Agnes Greengrass."
Wouldn't you know, first up was the girl who'd pranked Rey.
Agnes steadied herself—she wasn't as chill as she looked. Just a kid, after all.
She climbed the steps, sat on the high stool. McGonagall lifted the hat, and as soon as it plopped on her head...
She spotted Rey below, stuck out her tongue, and grinned mischievously. Rey just rolled his eyes.
After a pause, the hat bellowed: "Ravenclaw!"
Agnes Greengrass, the girl Rey figured was Slytherin-bound, got her wish.
The Ravenclaw table on the right exploded with cheers. A pretty girl like her? Welcome anywhere.
Agnes beamed, trotting over to the front spot. The prefect there greeted her with congrats.
"Penelope Clearwater." Next was another cute brunette.
"Ravenclaw." The hat barely hesitated this time.
Two pretty girls in a row for Ravenclaw? Their table was pumped.
"Cedric Diggory."
A dark-haired, handsome boy nervously climbed up and sat.
Rey's old memories of Harry Potter were fuzzy—main characters stuck, but side ones? Gone. He had no clue this Cedric Diggory was the one who'd compete with Harry in the Triwizard Tournament later.
"Hufflepuff!"
The hat sorted him quick.
...
The hat sped through some, dragged on others. Pure Slytherin types? It called 'em before the hat even touched— that vibe and mindset bugged it.
Dozens of kids got houses fast. Now, Rey stood alone in the aisle.
McGonagall eyed the lone kid below the steps, then her scroll, looking puzzled. She seemed to double-check, then asked: "Child, what's your name?"
"Rey, Rey Faest. Professor, is something wrong?"
Rey was baffled. He hadn't expected to be last, but now she hadn't even called him—she asked.
"Just a moment, child."
McGonagall took the scroll to Dumbledore, showed it, pointed at Rey: "Professor Dumbledore, this child's name isn't on the parchment."