Chapter 57: First Day of Classes

Before long

the rain fell in torrents.

Water streamed along the castle's soaring towers and winding walls. Lightning cut through the night sky as if torn by an unseen hand, blazing arcs across the darkness.

Accompanied by thunder's deafening roar, flashes lit the castle in rapid alternation between brightness and shadow. Through it all, a strange creature clung beneath the eaves in the downpour, its gaze fixed on Ian within the Ravenclaw dormitory.

A silent threat,

ready to strike.

The thin window of the Ravenclaw dorm was no real barrier to its entry.

Yet—

"Caw!"

A crisp, ringing cry broke the stillness. A flaming-red figure burst forth in the lightning's glare, like dawn piercing the gloom. At once, the strange creature twitched its wings in alarm, seeming to sense danger.

It flitted away like a flying manta ray, rising and falling erratically. The fiery-red pursuer followed closely, and in the blink of an eye, both magical beings vanished into the rain-shrouded night.

All was quiet again,

as if nothing had happened.

The rain continued pelting down.

****

By the next morning—

as the stormy night's darkness and fierce downpour faded, the sky gradually lifted its heavy black curtain. Rain slowed from a pounding deluge to a gentle drizzle, and finally stopped. Droplets slipped from the eaves and leaves, chiming with a soft drip-drop.

On the horizon, a gentle blue-violet gleam spread across the sky, marking the start of a new day.

"Are you two still asleep!"

Green-haired William—who had been the last to go to bed—was now the first awake. He rose even earlier than Ian's usually disciplined internal clock.

"It's the first day! You want to be late? I heard Hogwarts bans latecomers from the library!"

His shout did nothing to wake the sleeping Ian, but his firm grip on Ian's shoulders certainly did. Ian opened his eyes groggily to see a blur of green hair.

"You look like a meadow…"

Ian grumbled as he pushed William's head aside,

sitting up and still half-dazed.

"That's my hair, my hair!"

William muttered, turning next to jostle Michael. The result was no better—Michael's deep sleep made him even harder to rouse.

"A swift slap might help,"

Ian suggested, yawning from his bed.

As Ian gazed at William's vibrant green hair, a thought flitted through his mind:

Because green pigment hardly shields ultraviolet light, it's unlikely for normal mammals to have naturally green hair. Clearly, someone in William's ancestry, like Lord Voldemort, must have attempted a dangerous magical transformation—fusing traits from some non-mammalian creature.

Possibly reptilian, or amphibian—egg-layers.

"Good idea!"

William hadn't the faintest notion that Ian was mentally dissecting his genealogy. He took Ian's advice literally, delivering a solid blow to Michael's chest.

"Oof!"

Michael sat bolt upright, wide-eyed.

"I said to slap his face, not break his ribs!"

Ian was stunned; this green-haired roommate might well belong in Gryffindor rather than Ravenclaw.

"I just thought it'd be more efficient—and possibly more polite,"

William mumbled sheepishly, reaching out to pat Michael's chest in apology.

"I don't care about politeness—I care about survival!"

Michael yelped, dodging away. Now fully alert, he was practically bursting with energy.

Adrenaline is king.

"Sorry,"

William apologized, looking earnest. Michael's face… well, let's say his expression softened slightly.

"Next time, just slap my face. That's how my mom wakes me up, so no need to worry about rudeness."

Casting a sidelong glance at Ian, who dashed into the washroom and claimed it for himself, Michael gingerly rubbed his sore chest and repeated his request to William.

The fiasco over,

the three young wizards each washed up in turn and headed off for breakfast in the Great Hall.

On the menu:

porridge, bread rolls, orange juice, salted fish, eggs and bacon, toast, buttered jam bread, cornflakes… classic Hogwarts fare, hearty and satisfying.

Crucially, there was also Ian's favorite—tart lemon water that sharpened his senses. He joined his two roommates in a spirited competition over who could eat the most.

As expected,

the powerfully built Michael triumphed. Ian placed second, and William, who lagged behind, blamed his loss on last night's late chicken dinner.

"Mate, the chicken is blameless,"

Michael sighed, apparently still savoring memories of its taste.

With their bellies full,

Ian and his friends ran to the castle's seventh floor—today's first class was Transfiguration under Professor Minerva McGonagall, shared by Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff.

At Hogwarts, each lesson was jointly held by two Houses, but the combinations varied from one class to another. It encouraged competition and camaraderie, and also hinted that the yearly intake wasn't all that large. Despite the noisy classroom, there were barely thirty students total from both Houses.

"There's a cat!"

Ian exclaimed upon entering, spotting a tabby cat curled up on the teacher's desk.

It was a famous scenario from the books—and seeing it in real life, Ian was ready. From his robe, he pulled out the freeze-dried raw meat treats he'd prepared for precisely this moment.

But—

he hesitated a second too long.

"Kitty kitty, soft and sweet—professor's pet, right?"

Michael hummed playfully, using his mysterious advantage to zip in front of Ian. While Ian fumbled, Michael reached out, hand poised to stroke the cat.

"Good morning, Professor McGonagall,"

Ian greeted calmly, realizing his chance had slipped away. He returned the treats to his robe as he bowed slightly toward the tabby.

"Huh?"

Michael failed to react in time.

In a blink, the cat transformed into a rather strict-looking witch—Professor McGonagall. She stared Michael down, lips pressed in a stern line, while the boy stood there, hand still raised, frozen in embarrassment.

"Sharp observation, Mr. Prince."

Ignoring Michael's reddening face, McGonagall shot Ian a faintly curious look. After a pause, she added gently:

"Though there's no strict rule against eating in class, you should know rotten food can harm your health. I wouldn't advise pinching pennies in that regard."

As she spoke,

her gaze took on a peculiar quality.

She couldn't shake the sense that Ian hadn't intended to snack at all…

 --------------

(A/N: I've launched a Patre0n page where you can get access to 20+ chapters ahead—come check it out! on my PATRE0N.C0M/HP_PS)

(A/N: If you enjoyed the story, please leave a review! Your feedback really helps me keep going and motivates me to write more. Thank you for your support!)