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"He only took off his jacket..."
Watching Hermione leave with a red face, Ron muttered, "But it's great that she's gone."
Harry and Ron also followed Sherlock's lead and began changing into their robes.
Harry noticed Ron's trainers peeking out from under the hem of his robes, just as Sherlock had mentioned earlier.
However, he had no time to dwell on it now, simply because he was too nervous.
Ron's face was pale; he wasn't faring much better.
After all, they were only eleven years old, suddenly far from home in a completely unfamiliar place. It would be a lie to say they weren't nervous.
As for Sherlock – it was probably best not to think of him as a child.
The train gradually slowed down and finally came to a stop.
Night had completely fallen. As soon as the doors opened, a howling cold wind made the young wizards shiver uncontrollably.
Sherlock's physical constitution was actually quite good among his peers, but having just recovered from a serious illness, he also found it hard to bear.
Britain's cold, damp climate was on full display at this moment, leaving everyone shivering.
Just then, a ball of light appeared above everyone's heads, capturing the young wizards' attention, followed by a booming voice:
"Firs' years! Firs' years over here!"
A giant, over three meters tall, appeared directly in front of everyone.
It was precisely because he was so enormous that the light source from the lamp he held seemed so high up.
Sherlock immediately understood this must be the Hagrid Harry had mentioned.
However, Harry's description had been somewhat conservative. Based on Sherlock's visual estimation, the man was at least three and a half meters tall.
One could only say this was truly the magical world; the tallest person in the Muggle world was only about two and a half meters.
Although Hagrid had a large beard, he now offered Harry a gentle smile. "Harry, over here, how are yeh?
Come on, follow me – any more firs' years?
Mind yer step! Right then, firs' years follow me!"
Led by the giant Hagrid, the first years parted ways with the older students, heading down a steep, narrow path.
The path was dark and gloomy until they rounded a bend, and the view suddenly opened up.
The young wizards couldn't help but gasp in unison.
A vast black lake appeared before them as if the clouds had parted.
The calm surface of the lake rippled gently, appearing both quiet and mysterious.
Even more captivating was the high mountain on the opposite shore.
Perched on the mountainside stood a magnificent castle with many turrets and towers, its windows twinkling under the starry sky, drawing everyone's gaze.
Hogwarts, arrived!
At this moment, all the young wizards unconsciously held their breath, silently taking in the scene.
Until Hagrid spoke up.
To commemorate the four founders of Hogwarts School, first-year students, upon their initial arrival, would also cross the Black Lake by boat, just as the founders did, to reach the castle.
This was also why Hagrid had previously asked the first years to follow him.
Since each boat could hold no more than four people, Harry and Ron naturally stuck with Sherlock, their 'big brother' figure.
Hermione, whom they had met before school started, also joined them.
This made Ron roll his eyes again.
"Everyone in? Right then – FORWARD!"
After confirming all first years were aboard, Hagrid took a boat by himself and led the way – naturally, his size left no room for anyone else.
The fleet of little boats glided across the lake, sending ripples across the calm surface.
Some stared silently at the immense castle reaching towards the clouds, some tried to row faster, while others chattered excitedly about the future as they rowed.
Sherlock's group was among the latter.
Hermione started the conversation: "How will they decide which house to put us in?"
Harry shook his head. "Hagrid didn't say."
The books Sherlock had bought also made no mention of this, as if everyone consciously kept it a secret.
So, the three of them looked towards Ron.
Being stared at by six eyes simultaneously was a bit much for Ron, and he quickly said:
"There's a test – Fred said it hurts a lot, but I think he was joking."
Sherlock shook his head. "He was definitely joking."
It was unthinkable. Just an entrance test, similar to a placement exam in the Muggle world, how could it possibly harm the students?
Ron still looked worried. "I hope so – anyway, Sherlock, someone as clever as you will definitely be in Ravenclaw. I'll probably be in Gryffindor."
Hermione raised an eyebrow at this.
Sherlock just smiled and didn't answer.
The journey across the Black Lake was shorter than expected. While disembarking and clearing the boats, Hagrid helped Neville find his toad, much to Neville's delight.
However, this joy quickly faded.
A tall, black-haired witch in emerald-green robes stood before the castle's main doors and took over from Hagrid:
"The firs' years, Professor McGonagall."
"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here."
Seeing her stern expression, everyone instinctively felt this woman would be strict.
The newcomer was none other than Professor Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts and Head of Gryffindor House.
When she saw Sherlock, a faint smile appeared on her stern face. "Hello, Mr. Holmes."
"A pleasure to meet you, Professor McGonagall."
The exchange between Sherlock and McGonagall surprised the nearby young wizards.
Hermione couldn't resist nudging Sherlock with her elbow. "Holmes, how do you know Professor McGonagall?"
Her action confirmed for Sherlock that this girl was indeed quite forward. Seeing the curious looks from Harry and Ron, he told them about Professor McGonagall visiting his home to answer questions.
"Oh, I see."
Their curiosity satisfied, their attention was then drawn back to Professor McGonagall's words.
"Welcome to Hogwarts. The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses..."
Compared to Ron's, Professor McGonagall's introduction to the four houses was considerably more objective.
She specifically pointed out that each house has its own noble history and has produced outstanding witches and wizards.
There has never been a hierarchy among the four houses; regardless of which house they were sorted into, they were all part of Hogwarts.
After saying this, Professor McGonagall led the first years into the entrance hall and then left to prepare for the Sorting Ceremony.
During this time, about twenty ghosts streamed out from the walls, causing quite a commotion and frightening the new students considerably.
Sherlock became greatly interested in these ghosts – something current science could not yet explain.
He attempted to communicate with the ghosts, but they were busy talking amongst themselves and paid no attention to the first years.
Only one fat friar responded to him, expressing hope that Sherlock would be sorted into Hufflepuff, reasoning that the friar himself had been in that house.
"Entirely lacking causality."
Sherlock sighed, losing interest in further conversation with the ghosts, and turned his attention to observing the entrance hall.
(End of Chapter)