The train pulled into a small station, Hogsmeade, and shuddered to a halt. Students immediately began pouring out onto the platform, calling to each other, retrieving trunks.
"First years! First years, to me, if you please!"
Rowan followed the voice. A tall man stood at the end of the platform with his hands clasped behind his back and his chin raised, wearing robes so well-pressed they could have come straight from a shop window. He had a carefully waxed moustache and the look of someone who had spent rather a long time in front of a mirror before coming out to collect eleven-year-olds in the rain.
"I am Gladwin Moon," the man said, as though the name alone ought to mean something. "Caretaker of Hogwarts. Follow me, leave your trunks, and do not dawdle."
He set off down a steep, narrow path without checking whether anyone was following. The first years scrambled after him, Rowan among them. The path wound through dense trees and got steeper with every step.
"Do watch your footing," Moon called back. "It gets rather uneven here. I did submit a proposal to have it resurfaced, but the Headmistress has other priorities, apparently."
The trees opened suddenly, and Rowan stopped breathing.
The lake stretched before them, dark and glassy. And beyond it, rising from the rocky shore like something from a dream, stood Hogwarts Castle.
Turrets and towers reached toward the darkening sky. Windows glowed with warm light. The castle sat massive and magnificent, its reflection shimmering on the water's surface.
It was the most beautiful thing Rowan had ever seen.
"Into the boats," Moon said, gesturing to a collection of small wooden boats pulled up on the shore. "Four to a boat." He paused. "That means four. Not five. I shouldn't need to say that, and yet, every year."
Rowan climbed into a boat with Celeste, Iris, and Edmund. The boat rocked alarmingly as they settled.
"I said four!" Moon called out, pointing at a boat where five students had crammed together. One of them sheepishly climbed out. Once everyone was properly seated, Moon straightened his cuffs and said, "Right. Forward!"
The boats moved of their own accord, gliding smoothly across the dark water toward the castle. Rowan gripped the sides, watching Hogwarts grow larger with each moment. The castle seemed to rise from the lake itself, ancient and powerful and permanent.
"Keep your heads down," Moon called as they approached a curtain of ivy covering the cliff face.
"Out you get. Mind the step." Moon offered a hand to the first student, then seemed to think better of it and stepped back to let them manage. "Single file. Stay close. The castle is not a place to go wandering on your first night."
He led them up a passageway that brought them out onto damp grass in the shadow of the castle. They climbed stone steps to giant oak doors.
Moon pushed the doors open with a flourish. "Welcome," he said, and his voice was quieter than it had been all evening, "to Hogwarts." Then he straightened his collar and was himself again. "Through here. Great Hall's straight ahead. Professor Weasley will take charge of you for the Sorting. Do try to conduct yourselves with some dignity. You are, after all, in my castle."
They stepped into the entrance hall. It was enormous, with torches lining the walls and a grand marble staircase rising ahead. Portraits watched from the walls, and Rowan caught glimpses of movement in the paintings.
Professor Weasley was waiting, her expression warm but formal.
"First years! Listen carefully. In a few moments, you will walk through those doors"—she pointed to enormous double doors leading to the Great Hall—"and you will be sorted into your houses. There are four houses: Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Your house will be like your family while you're at Hogwarts. You'll attend classes with your housemates, sleep in your house dormitory, and earn or lose house points based on your actions."
She paused, letting that sink in.
"The Sorting Hat will determine your house. It will be placed on your head, and it will examine your qualities. Your values, your strengths, your potential. Answer honestly. The Hat is never wrong."
A nervous murmur rippled through the crowd.
"Form a line. When your name is called, you will approach the stool and be sorted. Now follow me."
The doors opened.
Rowan had expected the Great Hall to be impressive. He hadn't expected it to be breathtaking.
The ceiling was enchanted to look like the night sky. Stars and moon clearly visible despite the fact that it was barely past sunset. Four long tables stretched the length of the hall, hundreds of students already seated, watching the first years with interest. At the head of the hall, the staff table sat on a raised platform.
And before the staff table, on a three-legged stool, sat a patched, frayed, pointed wizard's hat.
It looked like it should be in the rubbish bin, not determining the fate of children.
Professor Weasley positioned them in alphabetical order. Rowan found himself near the front. Ashcroft, Rowan. Surrounded by students whose surnames started with A or B.
The Sorting Hat stirred on its stool, then opened wide and began to sing. The song spoke of the four houses and their qualities, of seeking where you belong and finding where you're meant to be. Rowan caught verses about proving worth through action rather than birth, and a final warning that new foundations require time to settle before they can bear true weight.
When the song ended, applause echoed through the hall.
Professor Weasley called the first name.
"Abbott, Eleanor!"
A small girl with blonde hair approached the stool nervously and sat. The hat was placed on her head, and after a moment of consideration, it shouted: "HUFFLEPUFF!"
The Hufflepuff table erupted in cheers.
"Ashcroft, Rowan!"