The first-years screamed as Peeves lunged at them with his arms spread wide, his wicked grin stretching almost from ear to ear. He swooped down with his fingers crooked like claws, clearly delighted by the panic spreading through the corridor.
"Peeves, how dare you—" Percy barked, but his prefect's voice did nothing to slow the poltergeist. His badge might have impressed nervous first-years, but Peeves had never been the sort of creature to respect authority unless it came with real consequences.
"Waddiwasi!" Tyler reached into his pocket, flung a handful of sweets into the air, and raised his wand in one smooth motion. He cast three quick spells in succession, each one sharp and precise.
The sweets shot forward like bullets. They tore through the air toward Peeves, who had been in the middle of diving at the terrified first-years and had only a split second to react.
"You rotten first-year brat!" Peeves shrieked as he twisted aside, but he was not quite fast enough. Two of the sweets fired straight up his nostrils, and his eyes bulged with outrage.
The poltergeist gagged, spluttered, and jerked backward in mid-air. "You horrible little monster! Just you wait!" he howled, then shot away down the corridor before Tyler could send another volley after him.
For a moment, no one spoke. The first-years stared after Peeves in disbelief, while Percy looked as though he had just witnessed a school rule rewrite itself in front of him.
"Tyler, that was incredible," Percy said at last, hurrying over with open excitement. "You actually drove Peeves away. You must understand, he lives to cause trouble, and most students can do absolutely nothing about him. Only the Bloody Baron can truly keep him in line."
Hermione stepped closer, her earlier pride nowhere near strong enough to overcome her curiosity. "What spell was that?" she asked, looking from Tyler's wand to the empty stretch of corridor where Peeves had vanished. "I've read through several of our books already, but I don't remember seeing that one explained properly."
"It's called the Projectile Jinx," Tyler said. "The incantation is Waddiwasi. If Peeves bothers you again, you can use it to fire a small object at him, though sweets are probably less likely to get you into serious trouble than stones."
The first-years immediately began murmuring the word under their breath. For many of them, it was the first practical spell they had ever heard outside a classroom, and the idea that it could be used against Peeves made it far more exciting than anything printed neatly in a textbook.
"Waddiwasi," Seamus repeated, lifting his wand with a hopeful look. Nothing happened, apart from a faint twitch in the sleeve of his robes, and his face fell. "Doesn't seem to do much."
"No wizard masters a spell just by saying it once," Tyler said. "Even simple magic takes practice, focus, and proper wand movement. If you want it to work when Peeves is diving at your face, you will need to practise before that happens."
Percy recovered himself with a small cough, clearly remembering that he was supposed to be the one guiding the group. "Quite right. Well, everyone keep moving, and do not wander off."
They followed him deeper into the castle, though several first-years glanced nervously over their shoulders in case Peeves came back for revenge. The corridors seemed endless at night, full of shifting shadows, sleeping portraits, and suits of armour that creaked now and then as if they were only pretending not to move.
At last, Percy led them to the end of a corridor where a large portrait hung on the wall. It showed a very plump woman in a pink silk dress, and she looked down at the gathered first-years with the solemn importance of someone guarding a great secret.
"Password?" the Fat Lady asked.
"Caput Draconis," Percy replied. He then turned to the first-years, his expression stern enough to suggest that forgetting this information would be a serious personal failing.
"Everyone remember that password," Percy said. "You must give it to the Fat Lady whenever you want to enter Gryffindor Tower. If you do not know it, she will not let you in, and you will be stuck outside until someone rescues you."
The Fat Lady sniffed, though she did not deny it. A moment later, her portrait swung forward, revealing a round opening in the wall beyond.
Percy climbed through first, and the first-years followed one by one. On the other side, they found themselves in a large, warm circular room filled with squashy armchairs, low tables, old rugs, and a fire crackling merrily in the hearth.
"This is the Gryffindor common room," Percy announced. "The girls' dormitories are through that door, and the boys' dormitories are this way. Your trunks should already have been brought up, so there is no need to go looking for them."
The common room felt welcoming in a way the corridors had not. Red and gold hung everywhere, the firelight glowed softly over the worn furniture, and the windows looked out into the darkness beyond the tower, making the room feel tucked high above the rest of the world.
Percy sent the girls toward their staircase, then led the boys through another doorway and up a spiral staircase. The climb ended in the tower dormitories, where doors marked each year, and he stopped before the one assigned to the first-years.
The dormitory was shared by five boys, but it was far from cramped. Five four-poster beds stood beneath red hangings, their trunks placed neatly at the foot of each one, and the round windows looked out over the dark grounds below.
Tyler would be sharing with Harry, Ron, Neville, and Seamus Finnigan. It was a predictable arrangement, but a convenient one, since staying near Harry was still one of Tyler's most useful advantages.
"I'm exhausted," Harry said, dropping onto his bed almost the moment they entered. The day had taken him from the Muggle world to Diagon Alley memories, from the train to the Sorting, and finally into a castle full of ghosts, moving stairs, and poltergeists.
Ron collapsed onto his own bed with a groan, too tired even to complain properly. Neville sat down more carefully, as if afraid the bed might object, while Seamus kicked off his shoes and fell backward with a satisfied sigh.
Within minutes, the four of them were asleep. Their breathing settled into the slow rhythm of deep exhaustion, and even if someone had shaken them, Tyler doubted they would have woken easily.
Tyler remained awake a little longer, sitting quietly on the edge of his bed. The firelight from below did not reach the tower room, but moonlight silvered the curtains and gave the dormitory a strange calm that made the events of the day feel distant and dreamlike.
Elsewhere in the castle, Jamie was taking a very different route. He followed the Slytherin first-years from the right side of the marble staircase, descending into the lower levels and then through a maze of dark corridors that curled beneath Hogwarts like the roots of an ancient tree.
The Slytherin prefect walked ahead with a cold, efficient manner. He explained only what was necessary, and even that sounded less like guidance and more like an order being passed down to people expected to keep up.
Like Gryffindor Tower, the Slytherin common room required a password. Instead of a portrait, however, the entrance was hidden in a stretch of bare stone wall, and when the correct word was spoken, the stones shifted aside to reveal the room beyond.
The Slytherin common room was narrow, low-ceilinged, and shadowy. Its windows looked directly into the depths of the Black Lake, so the entire space was washed in a cold green glow that made it feel like the cabin of a sunken ship.
Dark shapes moved beyond the glass now and then. Fish drifted past, weeds swayed in the water, and occasionally something larger slid through the green murk, reminding the first-years that only enchanted windows stood between them and the lake.
The room had once been part of the old dungeons, and it still carried that history in its bones. Rough stone walls, heavy chains, carved chairs, and skull-like decorations gave it a severe, almost predatory elegance.
A fire burned in the beautifully carved fireplace, but it did little to chase away the chill. In summer the cool air might be pleasant, even refreshing, but Jamie could easily imagine the place becoming bitterly cold when winter pressed down on the castle.
"All right," the Slytherin prefect said, stopping near the centre of the room. "Girls' dormitories are that way. Boys' dormitories are through there. Go to bed, and do not embarrass your house tomorrow."
The instruction was blunt, but none of the Slytherin first-years seemed surprised. Most of them already carried themselves as if warmth were optional and politeness something to be used only when useful.
Jamie entered his dormitory and found that Slytherin's smaller numbers meant only four boys shared the room. His roommates were Draco Malfoy and the two broad boys who followed him everywhere, Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle.
Draco stepped inside with his chin lifted, trying to look as though the room already belonged to him. Crabbe and Goyle lumbered in behind him, glancing around with dull suspicion as the green light from the lake shifted over their faces.
Jamie sat down on his bed and looked at all three of them. Then he smiled, and in the dim green light, that smile looked especially unsettling.
.....
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