As Hermione asked her question, the nervous energy rippling through the crowd of first-years intensified. Even the students from wizarding families leaned in, their expressions a mixture of apprehension and excitement. No matter how many times they had asked their parents or older siblings about the Sorting Ceremony, the only replies they ever received were mysterious and vague, and sometimes, downright terrifying. Ron Weasley, for instance, had been told by his twin brothers that he would have to fight a troll.
"Will there be a test?" Hermione asked, her voice trembling with anxiety. "To see how much magic we've learned? I've read Hogwarts: A History cover to cover, and most of A History of Magic. I've practiced some of the common spells, but I really haven't had time to delve into Transfiguration. Professor, do you think I'll be able to pass?"
Her rapid-fire questions hung in the suddenly silent air. Some of the students stared at her, stunned, as if they couldn't believe this academic prodigy was humble-bragging at a time like this. Others went pale with panic, realizing they hadn't learned any magic at all.
Professor Sprout suppressed a smile. Revealing the true nature of the Sorting Ceremony was, of course, out of the question. It was a time-honored tradition at Hogwarts, one she would not be the one to break.
"It is," she said, drawing out the words for dramatic effect, "a very, very difficult test."
A collective gasp went through the crowd of first-years. Professor Sprout glanced at Ciel, hoping to see a flicker of panic on his usually calm face, but he remained completely unfazed. A small pang of disappointment went through her. She really had wanted to see him flustered, just once.
She let a gentle, reassuring smile spread across her face. "But there is nothing to worry about," she said, her voice warm and clear. "No matter where you come from, no matter your background, whether you are poor or rich, when you received your Hogwarts letter, you became a part of this school. Whether you are brave or timid, move forward. Hogwarts is waiting for you. Hogwarts never gives up on any student."
Her words eased the tension in the air. The nervous first-years began to breathe a little easier. She gave Ciel a quick wink. "I'll see you at the ceremony." With that, she turned and disappeared down a different path.
Ciel, Hermione, and Neville joined the stream of students following Hagrid. Hermione, unable to shake her pre-exam jitters, began muttering snippets from A History of Magic under her breath, completely oblivious to the strange looks she was receiving.
Ciel finally sighed and gently interrupted her. "Hermione."
She nearly tripped, looking up with a blank expression. "Hmm?"
"You can get into any house at Hogwarts," he said with absolute certainty. "And since all four houses are part of the school, there is no real difference between them. They just specialize in different qualities. Ultimately, what determines your achievements is your own effort. So please, stop reciting your textbook, or you'll miss the one and only chance you'll ever get to see Hogwarts for the first time."
His words finally broke through her haze of anxiety. She stopped her recitation, and Ciel let out a quiet sigh of relief.
They followed Hagrid down a steep, narrow path in the cool night air. "Just around this bend," Hagrid called back, "you'll get your first sight of Hogwarts."
And then, just as in the stories, a collective "Oooooh" rose from the students. As they rounded the turn, the magnificent castle and the vast, dark lake spread out before them, bathed in the light of a thousand stars. Even Ciel felt a surge of emotion. This was it. This was where the path of magic truly began. The legends of both Voldemort and Dumbledore had started right here.
After a few moments, Hagrid bustled them into a fleet of small boats. Ciel, Hermione, and Neville found an empty one, and a moment later, a quiet girl with bright, curious eyes took the last seat. "Hello," she said softly. "I'm Susan Bones."
Hearing her name, both Ciel and Neville straightened up, their expressions turning serious.
"Hello," Ciel said. "I'm Ciel Sprout."
"And I'm Neville Longbottom."
Susan's face lit up with a joyful smile. "It's you! My aunt told me about you. Our parents were comrades-in-arms." She paused, her smile faltering. "Sorry," she whispered. "I shouldn't have mentioned that."
Both Ciel and Neville waved it off. The Bones couple had been brave, skilled wizards who had also sacrificed their lives in the fight against Voldemort. This shared history had forged a strong bond between the three families.
Ciel's mind, however, was already racing ahead. Susan was currently being raised by her aunt, the formidable Amelia Bones, who was a strong candidate for the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. He remembered reading that in their fifth year, a Death Eater would escape from Azkaban and brutally murder Amelia and the rest of Susan's family.
He narrowed his eyes, silently repeating a name in his mind. Antonin Dolohov.
The books never specified who was responsible for the Bones massacre, but a wizard capable of such cruelty was rare, even among Death Eaters. And Dolohov, who had been thwarted by the Bones couple in several battles during the war, had both the motive and the savagery to carry out such a vengeful act.
A cold glint flashed in Ciel's eyes. 1995. Just over four years from now.
He wouldn't interfere in the grand battles of fate, but this was different. This was personal. Dolohov must die.
It was a strange coincidence. All four of them in this little boat—Ciel, Neville, Susan, and Hermione—had been, or would be, harmed by Dolohov. He was their common enemy. But Ciel knew that with his current strength, facing such a powerful dark wizard would be suicide.
I have to plant more. I have to get stronger.
Taking a deep breath, he suppressed the murderous intent that had flared in his heart. Hogwarts was now close at hand.
Professor McGonagall met them at the castle doors, her stern expression sending a fresh wave of nerves through the first-years. After they had a moment to tidy themselves, she led them into the magnificent Great Hall. The Sorting Hat sang its song, and then, Professor McGonagall began to call out the names.
"Hannah Abbott!"
***
(End of Chapter)
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