The golden plates shimmered as food appeared, roasted meats, potatoes, vegetables, and steaming rolls filling the air with warmth and delicious smells.
Harris Wells sat at the Ravenclaw table, taking it all in silently.
He had seen this moment in the books, in the films, in his memories from a life long past.
But this was different.
This was real.
The enchanted ceiling above reflected the sky outside, a blanket of stars, calm and vast. Candles floated in the air, their soft light dancing across every face in the hall.
Across the room, Alex Richards sat with the Hufflepuffs, still looking dazed but cheerful. Summer Greengrass, now in Slytherin, remained composed and elegant, her posture perfect even while cutting her roast.
Their eyes met his briefly, and Harris gave them a small nod.
They were already bonded, not by House, but by something deeper.
The food was incredible.
He helped himself modestly, a bit of roast, some carrots, bread, and gravy. He didn't want to draw attention. So far, no one had. And that suited him.
The second-year sitting beside him introduced himself as Elias, a talkative boy with a love for magical creatures.
"You're Muggle-born?" Elias asked, sipping pumpkin juice.
Harris nodded. "Kind of. My parents are Muggles."
"Well, you'll love Care of Magical Creatures once we're allowed to take it," Elias said excitedly. "The Nifflers are hilarious."
Harris smiled. He already knew about them. Nifflers, Hippogriffs, even Thestrals.
But he wouldn't say that out loud.
Let them underestimate him.
He let his gaze drift to the staff table, watching each face carefully.
Professor McGonagall, sharp-eyed and stern.
Professor Flitwick, small and smiling.
Professor Sprout, relaxed and kind.
And at the end, a pale man, Professor Quirrell, currently teaching Muggle Studies, not Defense.
Harris narrowed his eyes slightly.
Right now, Quirrell was harmless. Nervous, even. Voldemort wouldn't return until next year until Harry arrived.
Still, Harris made a mental note. You never ignore shadows in a place like this.
Dessert appeared with a flicker of magic, tarts, pudding, treacle, chocolate eclairs. Harris tried a bit of treacle tart. He liked it more than he expected.
The hall buzzed with chatter, laughter, and magic.
And for a moment, a short, rare moment, Harris let himself relax.
Eventually, Professor Dumbledore stood.
"Welcome!" he said, his voice calm and full of mischief. "To old faces and new ones, I bid you all a most magical year at Hogwarts! But before we begin our studies, just a few words:
Nitwit. Blubber. Oddment. Tweak."
Some students laughed. Others looked confused.
Harris just smirked.
He remembered this speech. It was strange, meaningless on the surface but it also reminded him of something important:
Never take anything for granted here.
As the feast ended, Ravenclaw Prefects gathered the first-years and led them through the winding corridors of the castle. The staircases moved gently under their feet, and the paintings whispered as they passed.
Harris stayed near the back, memorizing every turn.
Eventually, they reached a large door with a bronze eagle-shaped knocker.
"To enter," the Prefect explained, "you answer a riddle. Ravenclaw doesn't give passwords, only problems."
The eagle spoke:
"What has keys but can't open locks?"
Harris answered immediately. "A piano."
The door swung open without a sound.
The Prefect raised an eyebrow. "Fast one."
Harris just shrugged.
The Ravenclaw common room was high in the castle, round and airy, with tall windows showing the stars and mountains. Soft armchairs. Bookshelves. A white statue of Rowena Ravenclaw stood silently in one corner.
He found his bed near the window and lay down, watching the moonlit sky.
He was here.
At Hogwarts.
His journey had truly begun.
No Voldemort. No Harry. Not yet.
But Harris knew what was coming. And he wouldn't be caught off guard.
He was ready.
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I want to thank @darkmoon975, @zianna, @Logan_Miller_6834, @Giovana_Carolina_7548, @tharliand and everyone else for your support, I am very happy that everyone is liking my fanfic