Chapter 6: First Glimpse of Hogwarts

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At last, October 31st arrived.

In the living room, Mrs. Blackthorn paced anxiously, her eyes darting to the clock on the wall.

"Darling, the school isn't going to pack up and vanish overnight," Mr. Blackthorn said, gently urging his wife to sit.

Hodge was feeding his owl.

Inspired by the goddess of night, he'd named his owl Nyx. The tawny owl perched on a sturdy branch of a black pine in a pot, free to roam since they brought her home. At the moment, her talons gripped a dead mouse, her amber eyes fixed ahead, ignoring her owner's chatter with mild irritation.

"I don't eat those, and don't bring them back to the house, got it? No need to save them for me—I'm human, you know…"

Hodge gently poked the feathers on Nyx's forehead.

Inside, he was just as eager, though he hid it well.

Over the past two days, they'd handled the transfer paperwork at Smeltings Academy. As his father put it, "We need a reason for you going to Hogwarts, so we'll say you're studying abroad."

When Hodge said goodbye to his classmates, Dudley waddled over, his bulky frame unmistakable. He wasn't there for farewells, though—he'd heard Hodge had been hospitalized and came to see if he was missing an arm or leg. Finding no bandages or splints, Dudley looked visibly disappointed.

Hodge teased him about his cousin, the Potter boy, and Dudley beat a hasty retreat.

Truth be told, it eased the sting of leaving.

The hydrangeas in Smeltings' garden were now withered husks. Hodge could've sworn they were blooming before his hospital stay—it felt like just days ago. Yet his entire perspective had shifted dramatically.

When the clock struck ten, a sharp crack exploded near the front door, followed by faint rustling. Before anyone could react, a soft knock echoed from the door knocker.

Opening the door revealed Professor McGonagall.

She wore a vibrant emerald robe, brighter and more festive than the one she'd worn at their first meeting.

Stepping inside, her gaze immediately landed on the hand-carved miniature pumpkin lantern in the living room. It had the classic triangular eyes and jagged mouth, but Hodge had topped it with a lopsided wizard's hat.

Professor McGonagall made no comment. After brief greetings, Hodge stuffed Nyx into her cage, grabbed his luggage, and stood beside the professor.

"We'll travel to the school by Apparition," she explained to the Blackthorns, taking Hodge's arm. "No Floo Network—it's easy for the untrained to get lost, and tracking them down is a hassle."

Hodge waved goodbye to his parents with his free hand. "I'll write soon. Don't worry," he said softly.

Their eyes glistened with tears as they waved back.

Professor McGonagall waited patiently until the farewells were done before raising her wand to cast the spell.

"Any tips for a beginner, Professor?" Hodge asked, a touch nervous.

She smiled faintly. "The school library has plenty of books on wizarding travel," she said kindly. "For now, brace yourself—it might be a bit bumpy."

A bit bumpy was a gross understatement. The world spun wildly.

Hodge felt as if he'd been shoved into a kaleidoscope, his vision flooded with fragmented, surreal colors. The air turned thick, like liquid, pressing against him until he could barely breathe. Gravity seemed to vanish entirely.

It might've been a second or an hour—he lost all sense of time. Then, his feet hit grass, and he gulped in the crisp, woody air.

So this was Apparition? Hodge was instantly smitten with the spell.

"Are you alright?" Professor McGonagall asked, her tone concerned.

"I'm fine. My things—" Hodge hesitated, but as he spoke, McGonagall waved her wand, and his trunks and Nyx's cage vanished.

"No need to worry. They've been sent to the castle. After the Sorting, someone will deliver them to your dormitory." Her gaze shifted upward.

Hodge followed her line of sight and froze, awestruck.

They stood on a grassy clearing at the edge of a forest, surrounded by misty mountains. Through gaps in the clouds, a majestic castle loomed at the end of a green slope, its stone towers rising like a forest of jagged peaks piercing the sky.

Spires dotted the castle, and its windows sparkled like diamonds.

Squinting, Hodge realized the glints were moving figures.

In the distance, above the Quidditch pitch, a dozen broomsticks streaked through the air, leaving trails of fiery red and emerald green.

Hodge stared, his days of imagining this moment now real. His mind went blank, overwhelmed by a rush of joy, every cell in his body singing with excitement.

This was Hogwarts. They'd arrived.

They climbed the slope, and Hodge lasted all of one second before his curiosity burst. "That spell—Apparition—can I learn it? What do I need to know? Who teaches it at school?"

Professor McGonagall shot him a stern look. "That spell is highly dangerous, and students are strictly forbidden from attempting it privately. Violators face point deductions and detention. However, there's a dedicated instructor for sixth-years."

"What about the Floo Network?"

"It's a transportation system connecting fireplaces, allowing wizards to travel quickly to another location…"

Per McGonagall's explanation, the Floo Network was a popular travel method, but it had conditions: the fireplaces had to be magically linked, or it was pointless. Privacy concerns meant most wizards registered family or public fireplaces with the Ministry of Magic.

"…Every year, some poor soul chokes on ash or ends up in the wrong place. And it takes courage—you have to step into the flames."

Hodge pictured the witch-burning dolls sold in shops.

"So… a fireplace isn't strictly necessary. Theoretically, you just need a bonfire, some Floo Powder, and specific casting techniques…" Seeing McGonagall's glare sharpen, Hodge backpedaled. "I mean, purely theoretically! I know the 14th century had mass witch burnings…"

McGonagall stopped, her lips pursed into a thin line.

"Mr. Blackthorn, it seems we need to reinforce your respect for school rules," she said, exasperated. "My greatest regret these past few years was not recognizing the Weasley twins' troublemaking early on. I won't make that mistake twice."

"Professor, I know the difference between theory and reality," Hodge protested.

"Oh, I'm sure you do."

McGonagall's tone was curt as she gestured for him to climb the white stone steps. Students passed by, some casting curious glances. At first, Hodge thought it was because he was with McGonagall, but then he realized his outfit stood out—a vintage Victorian suit his mother had bought him.

Finally, they reached the castle's massive oak doors.

The entrance hall was vast, its walls lined with flickering torches, yet it felt shadowy and mysterious. Across from them, a grand marble staircase led to the second floor.

A beam of orange light spilled from the Great Hall, illuminating the hall.

"My office is on the second floor," McGonagall said, leading him up the stairs as more students appeared. "You can wait there until the evening feast—"

"Hodge?"

A familiar voice called from above. Hodge looked up, puzzled. Besides Percy, he didn't know anyone at Hogwarts. But thank Merlin—he wasn't keen on sitting in McGonagall's office all day.

It was Evelina Selma, the healer from St. Mungo's. Wasn't she interning at the hospital?

"I decided to take a break and enjoy a Halloween feast," Evelina said with a grin. "First day at Hogwarts? Perfect. You'll need a guide, and I've got nothing else to do." She turned to McGonagall for approval.

McGonagall, aware they knew each other, hesitated, wary of Evelina's carefree nature.

"Very well," she relented, adding firmly, "But no reckless behavior. Report to the Great Hall before the feast begins. Miss Selma, you're six years his senior, so act responsibly."

Her sharp gaze swept over them, making Evelina swear she'd behave.

Once McGonagall left, Evelina perked up. "Come on, I'll show you around. There's tons to see—I only realized how much I missed this place after leaving."

She chatted as they walked, pointing out key spots for Hodge's classes.

"The Great Hall and Transfiguration classroom are on the first floor. Second floor has History of Magic—bit tricky to find, let's check it out… I don't think I ever fully listened to Professor Binns' lectures… Fourth floor has Charms and Defense Against the Dark Arts. Professor Flitwick's probably teaching now—he's hilarious, easily the most brilliant Charms master, no flaws except being a tad short…"

Hodge noted the fondness in her tone, unsurprised since she was a Ravenclaw.

They looped by the Charms classroom. When the bell rang, students poured out, and they struggled through the crowd. "Bad timing. What's up, Hodge?" Evelina called.

Hodge glanced at a teary brunette witch brushing past, then at two uneasy boys in the crowd. "Nothing," he said thoughtfully. "Just thought I saw someone I know."

He didn't approach Harry—not the right moment. He and Evelina returned to the main staircase.

"Fifth floor's the library."

Evelina lingered at the entrance until the vulture-like librarian scared them off. They detoured to the sixth floor, heading toward the west tower.

Her steps grew lighter, more purposeful.

"I was wondering since the fourth floor," Hodge said, struggling to keep up. "Are you taking me to—" He stopped, realizing the answer.

A door blocked their path at the end of the stairs.

It had no handle or keyhole, just an aged wooden panel with a bronze eagle-shaped knocker.

"Here we are—the Ravenclaw common room," Evelina said proudly. She tapped the knocker, and the eagle's beak opened.

A gentle voice asked, "Which lasts longer: words or paintings?"

Evelina stepped back with a sly grin, gesturing for Hodge to answer.

Hodge blinked. "I have to answer to get in? Let me think…" He racked his brain for archaeological facts but sensed a trap.

"Words," he said. "Tattered texts are always unearthed, while cherished paintings are easily destroyed."

"Well reasoned," the voice replied, and the door swung open, revealing a spacious circular room.

Hodge stepped inside, still mulling over the question. He was starting to get it. "What if I'd said paintings?" he asked Evelina.

She smiled but didn't answer.

"I bet the door would've opened anyway," Hodge said, growing certain. "It just needs a good reason. Or rather… it's designed to make you think."

"You'd fit right in at Ravenclaw," Evelina said, pleased.

Hodge's eyes fell on a white marble statue in a niche across the room.

She was tall and beautiful, adorned with an intricate circlet, her gaze seeming to meet everyone's yet indifferent, quietly observing the room's elegant arched windows, blue and bronze silks, and starry domed ceiling and carpet.

Students lounged on chairs and sofas, separated by small bookshelves like screens. On the right wall hung a massive whiteboard.

"What, you moved the library in here?" Hodge asked, intrigued.

"Pretty much," Evelina said, checking the board. When Hodge joined her, she muttered, "Nothing new." She bent to rummage through a box at its base.

Up close, Hodge realized it wasn't a typical bulletin board. Covered in colorful notes in different handwriting, it was chaotic but fascinating.

"…Ravenclaw students never take borrowed books to their dorms—they go on the public shelves," Evelina said warmly. "It's been a tradition for centuries. Pretty amazing, right?"

"What if someone takes a book and doesn't return it?"

Evelina gave him an odd look, as if surprised by the question, making him sheepish. She pulled out a small blue parchment from the box and scribbled a line.

Hodge tried again. "So, the books chosen are more valuable?"

"Or it lets others share your wisdom," Evelina said, handing him the note. "Mind?"

"What?"

Hodge took it and read: New student arrival, two months late to the magical journey.

Glancing from the note to the board, he understood. He stuck it among the others, stepping back to see his introduction nestled in the crowd.

A strange feeling stirred in him.

He scanned other notes.

A pink one read: Help! My transfigured Brazilian turtle's shell keeps growing moss and barnacles. Any fixes? Someone had jotted a concise outline in the margin.

Hodge caught on and eagerly browsed.

The notes varied wildly: Need a charm to block garlic breath, How to deal with Peeves, or How to win over a malnourished cat (with a shaky sketch labeled kitchens).

Not all were requests.

Some, like Evelina's, shared info: The trapdoor on the third-floor corner leads straight to the Charms classroom, or Harry Potter's currently single—act fast!

Hodge grinned. Harry's new life seemed lively.

"I love this system," he said, satisfied after a long browse.

Evelina shrugged. "Stay long enough, and you'll see it's not all great. Ravenclaw's full of gossip—prefects have to check for outrageous stuff. But that's Ravenclaw."

She pointed proudly at the marble statue, which seemed to watch them.

"The diadem bears Rowena Ravenclaw's motto: Wit beyond measure is man's greatest treasure. Someone later added, And humans never stop chasing treasure. It was erased, but students still pass it down."

Hodge spent most of the afternoon in the common room.

He and Evelina claimed a spot, pulling books from the shelves. Evelina was curious about his reading style—he'd skim the table of contents, pick a chapter or two, then swap for another book.

"Some new reading trick?" a student nearby asked as Hodge grabbed Great Wizards of the Twentieth Century. Before he could reply, the student and their friend started debating.

Hodge wavered between Hogwarts: A History and A Guide to Dueling Charms, ultimately choosing the latter. He paused, reflecting on his decision-making process.

Back at his seat, he eagerly flipped through, picturing himself casting the spells, occasionally waving his wand and grinning.

Evelina chimed in. "Start with Stunning, Disarming, and Shield Charms if you're into dueling." She held a book but clearly wasn't focused.

"I thought you'd push healing magic," Hodge teased.

"Don't underestimate me. Ravenclaw's Head is a former dueling champion—I know a thing or two." She showed off her wand. "Hawthorn, unicorn hair. Great for healing, but also curses." She tapped Hodge playfully, as if to say, Watch it, then laughed.

Hodge flipped to a page. "What about this one?"

Evelina glanced. "Blasting Curse? Not used often. Why?"

"It feels… special." He couldn't pinpoint why but memorized it, practicing the wand motion. Evelina leaned away, alarmed.

"You can't use that in here!"

"I know."

Hodge quickly got the feel, like with spells he'd tried at home. Then it clicked—why this curse resonated.

A childhood memory: Andros the Invincible.

His mother had made him a hand-drawn comic, clearly inspired by the wizarding world, a nod to her past. Hodge didn't know the real history, but in her story, Andros was a giant with earth-shaking magic.

Coincidentally, he loved blasting boulders in his path.

It left a deep impression on young Hodge. That comic was locked in his trunk.

As dusk fell, the castle grew lively. Hodge and Evelina joined the Ravenclaws heading downstairs, only to find McGonagall in the entrance hall, holding a tattered hat in one hand and a four-legged stool in the other.

"Mr. Blackthorn, come with me."

Hodge's heart pounded.

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