chapter 7

The Great Hall of Hogwarts was exactly as Harry had imagined it: towering stone walls, floating candles casting a warm, flickering glow, and an enchanted ceiling that mirrored the night sky above, dotted with stars. The room was buzzing with excitement and chatter as the first years filed in, their nerves on display as they waited for their names to be called. Harry stood among them, his heart racing not from nerves but from sheer anticipation. He knew exactly what was coming; this was his first real step into the world he'd watched on screen in another life.

As the Sorting Hat sang its familiar song, detailing the virtues of each house, Harry found himself glancing around, taking in the faces of his future classmates. It was like seeing old friends for the first time: there was Draco Malfoy sneering with his usual haughty confidence, Ron fidgeting nervously, and Hermione biting her lip, already looking as though she was analyzing every word of the Hat's song.

One by one, names were called, and students were sorted into their respective houses. When his own name was finally announced, the room fell into an immediate hush. Whispers of "Harry Potter!" rippled through the hall, and Harry felt every eye turn toward him as he approached the stool. He could feel the weight of the moment, but he welcomed it, striding forward confidently.

The Hat was placed on his head, and Harry felt a slight twinge as it began to speak directly to him. "Ah, Mr. Potter… brave, ambitious, cunning… but it's courage and boldness I see most clearly in you. It better be… GRYFFINDOR!" the Hat declared, its voice booming through the hall.

The Gryffindor table erupted in cheers, and Harry took his seat among them, greeted with eager smiles and pats on the back. He glanced around, spotting Hermione making her way toward him, her face flushed with excitement. She slid into the seat beside him, her eyes bright.

"Congratulations, Harry! I just knew you'd be in Gryffindor," Hermione said, her voice breathless with joy. Harry smiled, enjoying her enthusiasm.

"Thanks, Hermione. It's great to be here," Harry replied, turning his attention to Percy Weasley, the stern-looking prefect sitting a few seats down. Percy seemed eager to take on his role, and Harry figured this was a good time to gather some information.

"So, Percy," Harry began, leaning in slightly. "What are the classes like here? I've heard a lot, but I want to know what to expect."

Percy's chest puffed up slightly at the chance to impart his knowledge. "Well, it's rigorous, but that's what makes it the best wizarding school in the world. Potions with Snape is tough—he's brilliant but expects perfection. Transfiguration with McGonagall is challenging, but she's an excellent teacher. And Defense Against the Dark Arts… well, it changes every year, but you'll learn loads."

Harry nodded, absorbing the information, but his attention was quickly pulled away as the Sorting continued. A few more names were called until it was Lavender Brown's turn. Harry watched as the bubbly blonde stepped forward, her bright eyes scanning the hall nervously before she sat on the stool. The Hat barely touched her head before shouting, "GRYFFINDOR!"

Lavender bounced over to the table, her face glowing with excitement. She spotted Harry immediately and made a beeline for the empty seat beside him. "Oh my gosh, Harry Potter!" she exclaimed, plopping down and immediately hugging his arm, pressing herself close. She was practically vibrating with energy, her eyes wide with wonder as she looked at him.

"What's it like being Harry Potter?" she asked breathlessly, her body pressing against his. As she hugged his arm tighter, Harry felt his hand slip lower, brushing against the soft skin of her thigh beneath her skirt. Lavender didn't seem to mind; in fact, she seemed to lean into it, her body subtly shifting as she pressed his hand between her thighs.

Harry felt the warm, soft heat of her pressing against his palm, and he let his hand stay there, cupping her lightly. It was bold, brazen, but Lavender's smile never faltered. She seemed to relish the touch, biting her lip as if savoring a secret. Harry kept his expression neutral, pretending as if nothing unusual was happening, even as he enjoyed the subtle, intimate contact.

"I wouldn't know," Harry said with a chuckle, keeping his tone casual. "I was raised by Muggles, so all this is new to me." He could feel Lavender's excitement, her thighs squeezing lightly around his hand as she hung on his every word.

Lavender's eyes sparkled as she listened, her breathing quickening subtly with each touch. Harry's fingers grazed the edge of her underwear, the heat of her arousal evident even through the fabric, and he couldn't help but enjoy the sensation of having her pressed so closely against him. The rest of the feast passed in a blur of conversation and food, and Harry barely noticed anything but the warm, soft presence of Lavender against his hand.

As the feast drew to a close, Professor McGonagall rose to address the students, guiding the first years toward their common rooms. Harry reluctantly let go of Lavender, watching the way she glanced back at him with a playful smile, as if daring him to continue later.

The Gryffindor first-years followed their prefect, a tall girl named Angelina, through the winding corridors of the castle until they reached the entrance to their common room. The Fat Lady swung open, revealing the warm, cozy space within. The Gryffindor common room was filled with plush chairs, roaring fireplaces, and a sense of camaraderie that made Harry feel instantly at home.

Angelina turned to the group, her voice carrying a mix of authority and excitement. "Alright, listen up, first-years! Your dormitories are up these stairs—boys on the right, girls on the left. Your rooms are in the same corridor, so keep the noise down. And, since you're not prefects, you'll all be sharing the open bath at the end of the hall."

Harry's ears perked up at that last part, a slow smile spreading across his face. An open bath shared with the girls? He couldn't believe his luck. Meanwhile, the boys around him groaned, some muttering under their breath about how impossible it would be to have any peace with the "perverted" girls always around.

Harry, on the other hand, couldn't have been happier. Access to the girls' rooms, shared bath times—it was an opportunity, and Harry was already thinking of all the ways he could make the most of it. This world was different, strange, and full of possibilities, and Harry was determined to enjoy every last one of them.

The first years finally dispersed, finding their respective rooms and settling in for the night. Harry lay back on his bed, staring up at the ceiling, his mind racing with thoughts of what was to come. The touches, the glances, the tension in the air—everything about this world felt ripe for the taking.

As he drifted off to sleep, Harry knew that Hogwarts was going to be more than just a school for him. It was going to be his playground, a place where he could push the boundaries and explore every inch of this alternate universe where women were eager, and men were too blind to see what Harry saw. The night stretched on, filled with the quiet, excited whispers of new students, but Harry slept soundly, already dreaming of the adventures yet to come.

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