After emphasizing the critical points for the semester, Dumbledore's gravity vanished. He reverted to the eccentric, kindly headmaster the students knew, adjusting his slightly crooked wizard's hat and beaming at the hall.
"Before we part for sleep," he announced loudly, "let us sing the school song!"
Ivan watched as the expressions of the professors on the high stage shifted instantly; several senior students looked as though they were suddenly suffering from acute constipation. Undeterred, Dumbledore waved his wand. A long, golden ribbon soared from the tip, twisting through the air like a shimmering snake to form the lyrics of the song.
Using his wand like a conductor's baton, Dumbledore led the school in a discordant roar that filled the Great Hall.
*"Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts, teach us something please, whether we be old and bald or young with scabby knees..."*
The Weasley twins were particularly enthusiastic, leading a small group in a funeral dirge rendition that confused everyone else's timing. Ivan joined in, singing a few lines, and to his surprise, he found the cacophony... strangely pleasant. He couldn't help but wonder if his musical taste had been compromised by the transmigration.
Headmaster Dumbledore clearly shared the sentiment. The Great Wizard was so moved by the "music" that he appeared to be on the verge of tears. He took a long moment to recover from the melody, wiping his eyes before dismissively waving for the Prefects to lead the way to the dormitories.
Ivan followed the stream of scarlet-clad freshmen up the winding marble staircases and through hidden passageways to the very top of the castle. At the end of a corridor, they stopped before a portrait of a very large woman in a pink silk dress.
"Password?" the Fat Lady asked, adjusting her posture.
"Dragon dung," Percy replied clearly.
The woman nodded and swung forward like a door, revealing a round hole in the wall. Shuffling through, Ivan found the Gryffindor common room much larger and more inviting than he had imagined. The roar of a dark brown fireplace dispelled the night's chill, its flames dancing against the red-and-gold tapestries. Comfortable squashy armchairs were scattered around, and the Great Lion of Gryffindor watched over them from a hanging banner.
The dormitories were split into groups of five. Ivan entered a spacious circular room containing five four-poster beds draped in deep red velvet. Luggage had already been delivered, but without the original owner's memories, Ivan stood frozen, unable to recognize which trunk was his.
Just as he was waiting for the others to claim their spots so he could take whatever was left, a grey-and-white owl swooped down from a rafter. It landed squarely on Ivan's shoulder and affectionately pecked at his cheek.
"Maka?" The name surfaced in Ivan's mind instinctively.
*"Coo-coo!"* the owl responded happily.
"Whether that was your name before or not, I'm calling you Maka now," Ivan whispered, reaching up to scratch the owl's neck. Maka squinted her eyes in contentment.
With the owl as his guide, Ivan quickly identified the bed against the west wall as his own. Beside it sat a small wooden stand with a brass plate that read: *Ivan Hales.*
He hadn't been alone for long when the door creaked open.
"I can't believe the Sorting was just a hat," a voice muttered. "I thought I'd have to wrestle a troll or something. I'm never believing George again."
A red-haired, freckled boy walked in, followed by the thin, bespectacled boy Ivan had seen on stage.
*Harry and Ron.*
Ivan realized with a jolt of surprise that he was indeed sharing a room with the protagonists. "Hello! I'm Ivan Hales," he greeted them, stepping forward.
"Hey, I'm Ron Weasley," Ron said, only just noticing him.
"Hello, I'm Harry Potter," Harry added, extending his hand.
Ivan shook Harry's hand first, then turned to Ron with a grin. "Your brothers, George and Fred, mentioned you during the feast."
"Oh, brilliant. I bet they didn't say a single good thing," Ron groaned, his ears turning a slight shade of red.
Harry seemed relieved by Ivan's casual demeanor. Since entering the wizarding world, most people treated him like a museum exhibit, gawking at his scar. Ivan, however, treated him like just another roommate.
Friendships between eleven-year-olds form quickly. Armed with his knowledge of the "future," Ivan navigated the conversation easily. Harry spoke about the Dursleys, Ron shared stories of being the youngest of six brothers, and soon enough, Neville Longbottom and Seamus Finnigan joined the fray. They talked until the candles flickered low.
Exhaustion finally claimed Ivan. The mental toll of the day was too much; he collapsed onto the bed, abandoning his plan to explore the System interface for the night. As he drifted off, he heard Ron scolding his pet rat, Scabbers.
*Hello, Hogwarts,* Ivan thought silently, pulling the duvet over his head.
***
The next morning, Ivan bolted upright with a start. It took him several seconds to realize he wasn't in a hospital, but in a magical castle.
He had no intention of being late for his first day of classes. Hogwarts was famous for its "trick" staircases and doors that pretended to be walls. Even though it was early, he decided to give himself a head start. He didn't forget to shake Ron and Harry awake, despite their sleepy protests.
It turned out his caution was justified. Whether it was Harry's "trouble magnet" aura or simply the castle's confusing layout, they immediately ran into two missing steps. Poor Ron even walked head-first into a solid wall that looked exactly like a doorway!
Fortunately, Ron's sacrifice served as a warning. Ivan and Harry managed to navigate the rest of the corridor unscathed, following a safe distance behind their bruised roommate.
"Welcome to magic," Ivan muttered, clutching his books tighter as they descended toward the Great Hall for breakfast.
To Be Continue....
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