C5: The Three Little Ones Meet and Hogwarts
After the two of them left, it wasn't long before they returned after the train had fully departed.
"Oh my goodness, John, you won't believe who we just saw!" Neville was breathless with excitement, his round cheeks flushed.
John blinked, puzzled by the boy's sudden energy.
Still panting slightly, Hermione lifted her chin and delivered the news with precise enunciation: "Harry Potter. The Harry Potter. He's on this train."
She crossed her arms and added with a sniff, "Honestly, he's not that impressive in person. Messy hair, glasses, and very quiet. I expected more from the Boy Who Lived."
Neville frowned. "But Gran always says Harry Potter defeated You-Know-Who as a baby and saved the entire wizarding world. He must be very powerful."
The two of them immediately launched into a debate about whether Harry's fame was justified, their voices rising over each other.
John, seated across from them, processed the information with a flash of realization.
Right. The trio's iconic first meeting. I completely forgot it happened in the carriage with Ron and Harry.
He rubbed his forehead in mild frustration. He'd missed that historic moment.
The train rumbled on for several hours, the overcast skies gradually darkening as they approached their destination.
Before arriving, Hermione reminded John to change into his school robes. After slipping into the black Hogwarts uniform, John's already sharp appearance gained an added touch of mystery. The rich, flowing robes suited him, as if he were born to wear them.
Through the train's window, John spotted a massive figure on the platform—Hagrid, holding an oil lantern aloft. His shaggy beard and wild hair were unmistakable even in the dusk.
Once they disembarked, the first-years stared up in awe at Hagrid, who stood nearly twice the height of a normal man and five times as wide. The returning students had already filed off in neat groups under the guidance of prefects.
Not far ahead, John noticed a skinny boy with messy black hair and round glasses standing beside a red-haired boy easily identifiable as Ron Weasley, given the infamous Weasley hair color.
Under Hagrid's booming instructions, the group of first-years crossed the misty grounds and arrived at the edge of the Black Lake. The waters shimmered with moonlight.
"Four to a boat!" Hagrid shouted.
John stepped onto a boat with Hermione, Neville, and a wide-eyed muggle-born girl he didn't know. As he helped Neville in, he leaned over.
"Neville, did you find your toad?"
Neville's face fell. "Oh no! I forgot! I haven't seen Leif since—since we were on the train!" He looked around frantically.
John smirked to himself. Don't worry, mate. I remember the movie. That toad's going to show up at Hogwarts somehow.
Even as a child, he had found it curious that Leif disappeared mysteriously and then reappeared at the castle gates. Maybe Leif was a magical creature after all?
The boats glided smoothly across the lake. Mist swirled around them, and the castle came into view, towering turrets, gleaming windows, and ivy-covered stone glowing in the moonlight.
"Watch your heads!" Hagrid bellowed as they approached a low tunnel. Hermione and Neville ducked automatically, while John remained upright only Hagrid had to stoop.
On the other side, stone steps led up to the massive wooden doors of Hogwarts.
Waiting at the top of the steps, stern-faced and sharp-eyed, was Professor McGonagall. She wore emerald green robes and a tall pointed hat, her expression unreadable.
Unlike the time she had visited the Wick household in her Muggle disguise, this was the real Deputy Headmistress in full form.
She gave Hagrid a curt nod. "Thank you, Hagrid. I'll take them from here."
[Ding! Hogwarts Phase Mission I Activated: Survive the First Year of Magical Apprenticeship. Rewards: +1 Magical Bloodline, +2 Stat Points]
The crisp voice of the system rang in John's ears, bringing up a translucent panel only he could see.
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[Magic Level: 1 (0/100)]
[Spell: Alohomora – Level 3]
[Skills: Short Weapon Mastery (7), Polearm Mastery (6), Heavy Weapon Mastery (3), Firearm Mastery (1)]
[Blessings: Enhanced Physique, Quick Reflexes, Precision Control]
---
He blinked, his gaze focused. The system display hovered for a moment before fading.
He'd leveled Alohomora to 3 just last month after weeks of practice at home. At that level, he could unlock more than just basic doors he had even opened the wall safe hidden behind a false panel in his father's office.
Inside was a compact pistol, which gave him that Level 1 Firearms proficiency. It was ironic that the magic world had helped him level up a mundane weapon skill.
Professor McGonagall began her explanation of the four houses. John already knew the basics, Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, Slytherin but feigned attention as McGonagall's voice rang with authority.
Just then, Neville let out a delighted gasp. "Leif!"
Sure enough, the squat, warty toad sat perched near the stairs. Neville darted forward to scoop him up, drawing chuckles from several students. Red-faced, Neville retreated back into line.
Suddenly, a boy with platinum-blond hair stepped confidently toward Harry, flanked by the bulky Crabbe and Goyle.
"It's true then," the boy said in a cool drawl. "Harry Potter has come to Hogwarts."
With a practiced bow, he said, "Draco Malfoy."
Ron sneered behind Harry, muttering, "You'd think his name was some kind of title."
Malfoy's lip curled. He turned to Ron and scoffed, "Red hair, hand-me-down robes... You must be a Weasley."
Ron stiffened. His face flushed with embarrassment. The jab had hit too close to home.
Draco returned to Harry. "You'll find out that some wizarding families are better than others, Potter. I can help you avoid the wrong sort."
He extended his hand, offering an alliance.
Harry looked him in the eye and replied coolly, "I think I can tell who the wrong sort are for myself, thanks."
Malfoy's face fell in stunned offense.
John, watching nearby, frowned. Arrogant little pure-blood brat. He's lucky this is a school, or I'd show him how Muggles settle this kind of talk.
Hermione noticed John's expression and tugged at his robe. "Don't. It's not worth it," she whispered. "If you hit someone on the first day, you'll be expelled!"
She didn't realize her words were unnecessary. John had no intention of making a move... yet.
Before things could escalate, Professor McGonagall returned and led them into the castle.
The Great Hall was a breathtaking sight. Candles floated high above the enchanted ceiling, which mirrored the starry night sky. Four long house tables stretched across the hall, each trimmed with its house colors.
Red and gold for Gryffindor.
Green and silver for Slytherin.
Blue and bronze for Ravenclaw.
Yellow and black for Hufflepuff.
On the far side of the hall sat the teachers at the High Table, with the Sorting Hat perched on a stool in front of them.
Hermione stood beside John, murmuring facts from Hogwarts: A History so rapidly that John's head throbbed.
He finally understood why Harry and Ron had found her overbearing at first.
Still, John didn't dislike her. He was older inside and knew how to filter out her rambling.
His gaze drifted to the center seat at the High Table—there sat an old wizard with half-moon spectacles, a flowing silver beard, and a serene smile.
Albus Dumbledore.
He wasn't just the Headmaster. He was the symbolic guardian of the wizarding world, the one even Voldemort feared.
When their eyes met across the room, Dumbledore offered John a subtle, knowing wink.
John grinned. This year might actually be interesting.
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