CHAPTER 46

For the first time in many days and months of my active existence in this world, the reestablished habit of adhering to a daily routine and rising early has yielded positive results. The fact that yesterday, upon returning to my room after an Astronomy lesson, I was able to indulge in restorative sleep is commendable. The source of my joy is straightforward: morning flying practice with the house Quidditch team. As dawn began to break, casting cold blue hues across the sky above the hills and painting the horizon in shades of pink, we found ourselves gathered in the common room—seven individuals in total.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Cedric addressed the group, "let us introduce ourselves to ensure clarity and avoid any misunderstandings. I am Cedric Diggory, the team captain and, on occasion, the Seeker."

"Herbert Fleet, fifth year, Keeper," the fair-haired boy saluted with two fingers and a grin.

"Malcolm Preece," another player I recognized raised his hand in greeting. "Sixth year, Chaser."

"Tamsin Applebee, fifth year," the dark-haired girl with a short haircut smiled. "I will also be playing the role of Chaser."

"Hector Granger," I nodded with a smile, "third year, Chaser."

"Anthony Rickett," another brown-haired boy of considerable build—though not excessive—nodded dryly yet with a twinkle in his eye as he stepped forward. "I am the Beater, as you may have surmised."

"William Summerby…" the young man covered his mouth with his hand and yawned loudly. "The Beater. A rather sleepy Beater."

"Excellent," Cedric clapped his hands. "Let us proceed with haste."

Cedric swiftly led us out of the common room. It was still early morning, curfew had not yet lifted, and the stone corridors of the castle were shrouded in darkness, illuminated only by the light of Lumos at the tips of our wands, revealing the living portraits stirring to life on the walls and the suits of armor lurking in the shadows. The castle presented a markedly different visage at night, evoking an entirely distinct impression.

Without encountering a single teacher along our route, we exited the castle hall without incident and proceeded through the main entrance, passing through the grand and imposing double doors. The term "donjon" briefly crossed my mind, though it did not quite encapsulate the essence of the structure.

As we circled the courtyard fountain en route to the grounds' exit, I contemplated for the first time the architectural nature of Hogwarts. Reflecting on all I had learned about the institution, I arrived at a simple conclusion: Hogwarts is not a castle in the traditional sense, but rather a monastery. This realization is significant, for the common practice of referring to Hogwarts as a castle shapes our perception of it. A monastery, however, conveys an entirely different narrative.

If we envision the Great Hall as a church within the monastery, and consider a rather expansive central courtyard—distinct from the one we had just traversed—surrounded by buildings, towers, and ancillary structures, complete with two-story arcades, a fountain, gazebos, and benches, we find that this courtyard resembles a typical cloister. Such parallels are frequently encountered.

However, the main tower, which houses the moving staircases and provides access to nearly every part of the castle, could indeed be likened to a donjon. One may bypass the central courtyard, akin to a cloister, when navigating from one section of the castle to another; yet, in a monastery, one can only circumvent the cloister by traversing the exterior of the monastery. The cloister serves as the heart of life within the monastery, as it is there that individuals intersect in various ways.

"What occupies your thoughts?" Cedric inquired, lightly nudging me on the shoulder.

"The resemblance of Hogwarts to a monastery," I replied.

"Oh, what intriguing thoughts!"

The others chuckled amiably as we continued our journey toward the Quidditch pitch—or rather, toward a large annex with a separate exit leading to the pitch. The sky was brightening before our eyes, yet the earth remained shrouded in darkness.

"That is quite normal; the castle was constructed approximately a thousand years ago," Cedric remarked, glancing back at the school for a moment. Tamsin, walking beside him, evidently decided to contribute to the conversation.

"There are indications in ancient texts," she stated, "that the Inquisition predates Hogwarts, and the conflict between us is largely a fabricated narrative."

Such a declaration could not fail to capture attention, particularly as we still had a considerable distance to traverse across the field to reach our destination. Sensing that she had garnered interest, Tamsin continued her discourse:

"I have perused numerous diaries and memoirs of ancient wizards from the time before Hogwarts even existed…"

"Where did you acquire such materials?" Cedric inquired, shaking his head as the others listened intently.

"My relatives are dedicated to compiling history based on these diaries. However, that is not the crux of our discussion. In those days, as you may know, the Statute had not even been conceived. Wizards occasionally lost their bearings, succumbed to madness from their experiments, or sought revenge for a dismal existence."

"A dismal existence? For wizards?" Herbert chuckled, tossing his broom from hand to hand.

"The romanticism of the Middle Ages exists solely in literature," Tamsin shrugged. "In reality, it was characterized by disease, filth, a wretched life, widespread illiteracy, and unsanitary conditions in both cities and the castles of the nobility. Given that wizards lived among the populace, this is hardly surprising."

We had nearly reached the doors of the annex, which was not merely an extension but a fully-fledged structure within a structure.

"In general, during those distant times, the church largely did not regard magic as a product of the devil; rather, it was treated as a creation of God, much like everything else. There was even a rationale for this perspective."

"I am curious to know what that rationale is," Cedric remarked as he opened the double doors, allowing us to enter a spacious hallway—or perhaps a hall—with a wooden floor and wooden wall paneling.

It appeared that this was where the teams' changing rooms were located, along with the team equipment and flight gear for lessons—five doors adorned with the emblems of the houses. We proceeded to the one embellished with the carved emblem of Hufflepuff.

"Well, the reasoning goes something like this: God created the earth and the entire world. He fashioned humanity in His own image and likeness, and it would be surprising if we did not possess a 'creative spark' ourselves—or something to that effect."

As Tamsin spoke, Cedric placed his hand on the door, which swung open, revealing a spacious changing room divided into two sections—male and female—as indicated by the clear signage, which was evidently not intended by the builders.

"Let us change and prepare for battle," Cedric gestured, as if issuing a command to commence.