The latch clicked once. It sounded like the sort of warning I had learned to listen to. No one was coming in. The carriage gave a small shudder as the train gathered speed, and the noise from the corridor faded until it became a steady hum beyond the door.
For once, I hoped the quiet would last.
We had the compartment to ourselves. Outside, the platform disappeared behind us, replaced by fields that rolled past the window. Hedges divided strips of stubble and short grass. A pale sky stretched overhead, and a few thin clouds hung so still that they hardly seemed to move. When the wind caught the engine's smoke, soot drifted across the glass before the view cleared again.
The compartment smelled of old leather and beeswax polish. The velvet seats were worn smooth where countless passengers had sat, and dust had settled where the wooden frame met the floor. My jumper still held the warmth from the station, and the rough wool rubbed against my wrists whenever I shifted.
I sat beside the window and watched the countryside pass. The wheels struck each rail joint in a steady rhythm. I found myself counting without meaning to. I stopped at thirty. A cow lifted its head as we passed. An old oak appeared behind a low stone wall before it was gone again.
It was easier to watch the view than think too much about where we were going. Every mile carried me farther from everything familiar and closer to a place I had never seen. I told myself that was what I wanted. Looking back would not change anything.
Remus set his case on the floor. He took out a stack of parchment and three well-used books before uncorking his ink bottle. He wrote in neat, compact lines that wasted neither space nor ink. After finishing a page, he read the last few lines again, turned the quill between his fingers, and said, without looking up, "Lesson plans."
I glanced at the parchment. It seemed strange that someone could be thinking about lessons when so much else had changed, but perhaps that was the point. Life carried on. Students would still expect a professor to know what he was teaching on the first morning.
He worked for a while before setting the quill aside. Then he began telling me small things about the place waiting for us. He never tried to make it sound more exciting than it was. He did not speak as though he were trying to reassure me, and he certainly did not make it sound like something from a brochure. He simply gave me the facts and left me to make of them what I would.
"You know," he said, "many students come from families who've sent children there for generations. Some of them talk about the corridors as though they've known them all their lives. They visit with their parents before they ever start."
There was no pride in his voice, and no trace of boasting. Old family names meant very little to him. He was simply describing a place he knew well. Somehow, that made me trust what he was saying even more.
I nodded once.
I had not really thought about what everyone else would already know before they walked through the doors for the first time. Some of them would know that one staircase caught on the fourth step if you climbed it too quickly. They would know that one of the study halls stayed cold even when the fires were lit. They would know which portrait couldn't keep a secret if its frame depended on it.
I knew none of it.
I still did not understand how the Houses worked once lessons actually began. I had never sat through a proper magical class. Most of what I knew about Hogwarts had come from other people's stories and whatever Remus had managed to teach me between one emergency and the next. Some books explained things well enough. Others seemed to expect you to know things nobody had ever shown me. Arithmancy charts lost me after a page or two. Some of the Charms books skipped straight to diagrams that assumed you'd already practised the spell in a classroom with four work tables and a checking circuit I had never even seen.
It was hard not to wonder how much everyone else would already have over me before the first lesson had even started.
Remus noticed me go quiet. He always did. He laid his quill on the seat beside him and looked at me instead.
"You do not need a family crest or a great-uncle who founded a House to belong at Hogwarts," he said. His voice was calm and certain. "You are there because of who you are. That is enough."
I met his eyes for a moment.
He had not told me I was remarkable. He had not tried to make me feel better with words he did not believe. He had simply said what he thought was true, then left it there.
For some reason, that helped more.
"Thanks."
The train carried us on.
We had taken the mid-afternoon service two days after we'd settled. As the countryside slipped past the window, the light began to soften. By the time we reached the station, it would be evening.
I leaned back against the seat but did not close my eyes. I was tired, yet I knew I would not sleep. My wand stayed in my pocket, and my case rested against my feet where I could reach it without looking. I had got into the habit of checking both were there. I was not sure when it had become automatic, only that it had.
"Did I mention the lake?" Remus asked.
I looked over.
"It's large and freezing. There are merpeople in it. And a giant squid."
"A giant squid?" I said before I could stop myself.
"Rather friendly," he replied. A faint smile crossed his face. "He gets cross if people throw things at him, which seems fair."
I stared at him.
"You are having me on."
"You'll see," he said. "He's fond of toast. Just mind how you offer it."
A laugh escaped before I could stop it.
A giant squid that liked toast sounded completely ridiculous.
Then again, this was Hogwarts. After everything I'd already learned about the wizarding world, I could not honestly say it sounded impossible.
Remus turned the quill between his fingers before nodding towards the window.
"There's a village near the school. Hogsmeade. It's the only all-wizarding village in Britain."
"A whole village?"
I tried to picture it. Every street, every shop and every house filled with witches and wizards. No pretending. No hiding magic from anyone.
"Honeydukes sells sweets," Remus said. "Scrivenshaft's makes some of the best quills you'll find. Dervish and Banges stocks all sorts of magical devices. The Owl Office uses coloured cords to mark different routes and delivery speeds. There's also a boarded-up house on the hill that the villagers avoid. They have their reasons."
"The Shrieking Shack," I said.
Even with the gaps in everything I'd learned, I'd heard that name before. It had turned up often enough in stories that I remembered it.
He gave a single nod.
"And there's the Three Broomsticks. They make butterbeer."
"Are we allowed to go there?"
"Not in your first year," he said. "You'll have your chance. There are also a few old routes into the village that aren't on the main road. I shouldn't recommend them."
I looked at him.
"How many?"
A small smile touched his face.
"More than Filch would like. Some begin behind statues. Others start beneath loose floorboards. Don't use them to skip lessons."
"I wouldn't."
The words came out a little too quickly.
Remus raised an eyebrow.
I gave up trying to look innocent. It was never very convincing.
"The greenhouses stand beyond the lawns," he went on. "The glass is often steamed over. That's where Herbology is taught. Professor Sprout is kind and thorough. Don't underestimate her."
"How bad are the plants?"
"Some bite. Some tighten their grip if you pull away. When I was at school, a vine wrapped itself around three students because one of them grabbed a tendril without thinking."
I decided that sounded exactly like the sort of thing that would happen in a magical school.
"Right."
"It isn't all dangerous," Remus said. "The lawns slope down from the castle to the lake. They're a good place to sit once spring arrives. The Astronomy Tower is one of the highest points in the castle. On a clear night, you can see more stars than you ever could from most towns."
I found myself trying to imagine it. A castle on a hill. A lake. Greenhouses full of plants that might bite you. A village full of magic just beyond the gates.
It still didn't seem quite real.
"And the Forbidden Forest?"
"It begins at the edge of the grounds," Remus said. His voice grew more serious. "It's ancient, and it's full of creatures that have lived there for a very long time. Students aren't allowed inside, but they break that rule more often than they should. Centaurs live deep in the forest. They're proud, and they value their privacy. There are other creatures there as well."
He held my gaze for a moment.
"The best thing you can do is leave them alone."
I nodded.
I watched the fields slip past. Hedgerows broke up long strips of ploughed earth, and a grey stone barn disappeared behind us before I had more than a glance at it. The sky stayed pale above the countryside. Coal smoke drifted over the carriage roof before the wind carried it away again. I rested my forehead against the window, the glass felt cool against my skin.
It was strange how quickly the rhythm of the train settled into the background. A few hours ago we'd been standing on a crowded platform. Now it felt as though the rest of the world had been left behind.
A trolley rattled along the corridor before stopping outside our compartment.
"Anything from the trolley?" a woman in a neat cap asked.
Remus slid the door open a little and handed her a coin.
"Two Pumpkin Pasties and a Cauldron Cake, please."
"Pumpkin juice," I added.
She smiled, passed the food through the doorway, and moved on to the next compartment.
The Pumpkin Pasties smelled of warm pastry and spices.
"Eat," Remus said. "You'll be glad you did."
"What for?"
"The Sorting. Hundreds of new faces. Plenty of noise. If you haven't been around crowds for a while, it can feel like a lot."
I looked down at the pasty in my hand.
He was probably right. I had spent so long keeping my head down that the thought of walking into a hall full of strangers made my stomach tighten more than I wanted to admit.
I took a bite too quickly.
"Ow."
I drew back at once. The filling had burnt my tongue. After blowing across the edge for a moment, I tried again. This time it was still hot but bearable. The pumpkin filling was thick, with a little salt that stopped it from tasting too sweet. I washed it down with the pumpkin juice. It was cold, and I caught a hint of cinnamon after I swallowed.
I took another drink. The sugar settled me faster than I liked to think about.
"When we reach Hogsmeade Station," Remus went on, "the older students travel up to the castle by carriage. First years cross the lake by boat. Just follow the prefects. They'll see you where you need to go."
I tried to picture it. A lake large enough for boats, with a castle waiting on the far shore. I had heard about Hogwarts for years, but it still felt more like a story than somewhere I was actually going.
The train entered a cutting, and the sound of the wheels grew louder as the stone banks closed around us. When we emerged again, we crossed a slow-moving river. The wheels changed their note as they ran over the bridge. A church tower stood close to the line before slipping out of sight. A flock of rooks rose from a freshly ploughed field and settled farther away.
My breath left a pale patch on the window. It faded almost at once, and the countryside came back into focus.
"Harry," Remus said quietly.
I looked up from the window.
"We'll arrive in the evening. We'll use the staff entrance to meet Professor McGonagall and then the Headmaster."
I gave a short nod.
"Understood."
He closed his case and fastened the straps before setting it beside his feet.
"Keep your guard up," he said. "That doesn't mean you have to be tense every minute. There's a difference. Watch the moving staircases. Don't tell everyone everything. Say what helps you. Don't say what people try to pry out of you."
There was no mystery in his advice. He wasn't trying to frighten me. He was reminding me of things I'd already learned the hard way.
"All right."
He watched me for a moment, as though making sure I meant it. Then he reached for his wand.
"Shall we practise a spell?"
"Which one?"
"The Imperturbable Charm. A quick run-through."
I stood and drew my wand.
Remus pointed to the doorframe.
"Higher. Keep your wrist steady. Don't add a flourish."
He demonstrated first. The incantation left his lips in a calm, even voice. A faint shimmer spread across the edge of the doorway until I could just make out a thin barrier holding in place. The air seemed to tighten for a moment. He pressed his palm against the frame, testing the spell, before lifting his wand and ending it with a light tap.
He stepped aside.
"Your turn."
I took my place, aimed at the frame and cast the spell.
Nothing.
I felt my grip tighten.
I knew the incantation. I'd managed it before. Missing it now only made me more aware that in a few hours I'd be surrounded by people who'd spent years learning magic in proper classrooms.
I steadied my breathing and tried again.
This time the charm caught. A faint click sounded from the frame as the invisible barrier settled into place.
I let out the breath I'd been holding.
Remus rapped the doorframe with his knuckles. The charm held.
A small smile appeared on his face.
"Better," he said. "We'll do it again after we've eaten the rest."
I sat down, slipping my wand back into my pocket.
He handed me the Cauldron Cake before taking another bite of his Pumpkin Pasty. A few crumbs landed on the front of his robes. He brushed them away with the side of his hand without seeming to notice.
I broke off a piece of the cake.
"Tell me more about the Houses," I said. "What are they actually like once you're there?"
"There are four common rooms and four House tables in the Great Hall," Remus said. "Each House develops its own habits. Each has its own notice board and its own prefects. Your Head of House is responsible for discipline, but also for looking after the students."
He paused long enough for me to take it in.
"You won't need to work it all out on the first day. You'll see how everything fits together soon enough."
I nodded.
That sounded better than trying to learn it all from books. There were some things you had to see for yourself before they made sense.
"What about lessons?" I asked.
"You'll begin with Defence Against the Dark Arts, Transfiguration, Charms, Potions, Herbology, Astronomy and History of Magic," Remus said. "We'll fill in the gaps as we go. There are subjects where you know more than you think, and others where you'll know less than you'd like. That's perfectly normal. Don't spend your time worrying about being behind. Ask questions when you need to, and practise every day."
I nodded.
It sounded simple when he said it. I knew it would not feel that simple once I was sitting in a classroom with people who had grown up around magic. Still, there was no point pretending I already knew everything. If I wanted to catch up, I would have to keep asking and keep working.
"Any professors I should avoid?"
Remus's mouth twitched.
"Be polite to all of them. Listen to Professor McGonagall. Answer Professor Flitwick clearly. In Potions, keep your workspace spotless and your knife sharp. If the professor is counting out a potion, don't speak."
I thought about asking why, then decided there was probably a story behind that advice.
"Got it."
The compartment fell quiet again.
I finished the Cauldron Cake and wiped the crumbs from my fingers with the napkin until they were clean. Outside, the train rounded a long curve as it climbed higher ground. The fields gave way to stretches of dark woodland. The trees swayed in the wind, and the light beyond them had begun to fade. The carriage leaned with the bend in the track, and the air coming through the window felt cooler.
I pulled at the cuffs of my jumper until they sat straight again. The wool rubbed against my wrist as I ran my thumb beneath the seam.
Remus looked out at the forest before checking his watch.
"Half an hour," he said. "If we keep this pace."
I looked through the window, but there was nothing to tell me we were close. It still felt as though the journey could go on for hours.
"What happens when we get there?"
"We step onto the platform," he said. "We stay to the left and keep clear of the doors. After that comes the Sorting, a short tour, and then bed."
"Straight into it."
"Yes."
In less than an hour, I'd be walking into Hogwarts.
The thought made my stomach tighten for a moment.
The food had settled the shaking in my hands, and my stomach felt warm now instead of empty. That was something, at least.
Remus folded his notes and slid them into his case.
"One last thing. The portraits talk. If you do not want them to pass your words on, lower your voice and do not argue in front of them."
"Understood."
Someone tried our door.
The handle turned. It met the seal and stopped. My Imperturbable Charm sent a faint vibration through the wood beneath my palm. Whoever stood outside hesitated. I heard a heavy step shift its weight before the footsteps moved away down the corridor.
Remus raised an eyebrow.
"Good," he said. He tapped the frame and released the enchantment. "Again before the station."
We looked out of the window together. The trees began to thin until they opened onto a broad valley. Low buildings stood beside a dark stretch of water. The whistle sounded, long and steady. As the train slowed, the corridor lights flickered on. I bent down, tightened the lace on my right shoe, then checked the clasp on my case.
"Harry," Remus reminded me. "Wands ready when we stand."
"All set."
I leaned forward and planted both feet on the floor.
For a moment my thoughts scattered in every direction. There was too much to remember, too much that could go wrong. Then I forced myself to sort it out. I did not have to pretend to be anyone on this train. That part was simple. Hogwarts would be different. Every conversation there would matter.
One careless answer, one story that did not fit, and somebody might begin paying closer attention than I wanted.
My mouth felt dry. I swallowed and kept my breathing even.
The train slowed again for a signal before moving on. The roofs of a town appeared in the distance, with smoke rising from several chimneys. I rested my fingertips against the glass. It was cool beneath my hand. The pale sky had begun to fade towards evening, though there was still enough light to see the fields stretching beyond the tracks.
Remus shut his case, stretched, then settled back into his seat. His shoulders gave the quiet click they always seemed to make when he moved them. He acted as though he had not noticed. I noticed anyway. He never complained, and he never let me see more worry than he thought I could carry. I wondered how much he was keeping to himself.
"You will not answer every question," he added. "Choose the ones that help you belong and keep you safe. Curiosity is not a right. You can say, 'Not now.'"
"Not now," I repeated. It sounded simple enough. I hoped it would be just as simple when someone wanted an answer I could not give.
He nodded.
"Good."
I took a slow breath. Five fields slipped past the window. A boy stood by a gate, counting the passing carriages on his fingers.
I found myself thinking about the first night we had left the last safe house. Remus had said, "Walk," and I had walked. He had said, "Stop," and I had stopped. Today he had said, "Belong."
That was harder.
I could follow instructions. I always had when they kept us alive. Belonging was different. Nobody could tell me exactly how to do that. I would have to work it out for myself.
The whistle sounded again. The track widened into a small yard where a signal box stood beside an old water tower. Both looked as though they had been there for years. The engine pulled harder for a short stretch before settling again. I felt the change through my knees where they rested against the seat.
"Do you want one more go?" Remus asked.
I stood and raised my wand.
The charm settled into place at once. The air along the edge of the door tightened without the slightest shiver. Remus pressed his palm against it. It did not give. He cancelled the spell with a neat flick of his wand, then pointed towards the ceiling light.
"Simple Lumos and Nox to clear your tongue," he said.
I cast the spells in turn. The small light flared at the end of my wand, then vanished. It was an odd exercise, but it worked. The rhythm settled my breathing, and when I spoke afterwards my voice came more easily. The floor shook beneath our feet as the train crossed a set of points.
"Right," Remus said. "We go in, we meet them, we get you fed, and we sleep. Tomorrow we sort the rest."
"Tomorrow," I repeated.
I held onto the word. There was no point thinking beyond it. Tomorrow was enough.
Remus reached up and pulled my trunk from the luggage rack.
"I've got it," I said, taking it from him.
The handle dug into my fingers. I welcomed the feeling. It gave me something solid to hold onto. My wand stayed in my other hand, close against my side. It was ready if I needed it, but there was no reason to draw attention to it.
The train rounded one final bend through trees that still held their leaves. Outside, the light softened as the sun dropped lower across the sky. I still could not see the castle.
It did not matter.
We were close now. I could feel it in the way the train eased its pace. Every turn of the wheels carried us nearer, and before long there would be no more time to prepare. Only time to step off the train and begin.
I wiped my palms on my robes and checked the latch on my trunk, even though I already knew it was fastened. I had checked it often enough. My hands wanted something to do. If I kept moving, I did not have to think too hard about what waited outside.
Remus watched me without saying anything. He looked out of the window, his expression calm. It was the sort of calm that came from practice rather than comfort. I had seen it on him before, especially when he expected trouble. He never wasted words.
The carriage leaned as we crossed a set of points before settling again. The wheels gave a high note as we rounded a bend, then the brakes caught and slowed us. The corridor filled with quiet voices as people stood and reached for trunks and bags. Someone laughed in the next compartment before falling silent when a prefect reminded everyone to wait until the train had stopped. A door opened at the end of the coach, and cooler air drifted inside.
Remus stood.
"Now."
I picked up my trunk and followed him. My left hand gripped the handle while my wand stayed low in my right. My heart was beating harder than usual, but my thoughts stayed clear. I could work with that.
The latch clicked as Remus opened the compartment door. The corridor smelled of cold air blowing in through the open carriage doors, mixed with the sugary scent of someone's sweets. We stepped into line and kept to the left, just as he had told me.
The train rolled forward one last time before coming to a gentle halt. The final shudder travelled through the floor and faded beneath my feet. Voices on the platform rose for a moment, then settled into the steady noise of people arriving and greeting one another.
I tightened my grip on the handle of my trunk until my knuckles ached. A second later, I eased my fingers. There was no point making my hand stiff before we had even begun.
"Ready," Remus murmured. He did not look round.
"Ready."
The compartment door behind us shut with a dull thud. Farther along the corridor, a prefect raised a hand for quiet. The carriage door slid open. Cold air reached me at once, touching the skin beneath my jaw and the strip of wrist where my jumper sleeve had ridden back. It carried the smell of coal smoke and wet stone.
The line moved.
We stepped down onto the platform. The stone flags were damp, and the cold came through the soles of my shoes. Yellow carriage lamps cast long strips of light beside the train. Owls hooted in short bursts somewhere overhead. A cat hissed, then fell silent. A small boy struggled past with a trunk that looked far too heavy for him. It swung into my shin.
"Sorry," he muttered, without stopping. He bent his shoulders and pulled harder.
"It's all right," I said, though I doubted he heard me.
I stayed close to Remus. He glanced behind us once before looking ahead again. His pace never changed.
"Staff entrance," he said under his breath. "Keep your wand away. We are not the first ones off the train."
I slipped my wand farther into my sleeve and nodded. There was no reason to draw attention to myself. At the moment, I was just another student arriving at Hogwarts. I wanted to keep it that way.
We crossed towards the end of the platform with everyone else. The path led between low banks, where torches burned from iron brackets at regular intervals. Their oil smell carried on the cool wind. Gravel crunched beneath our feet.
Beyond a bend, rows of carriages stood waiting.
The horses harnessed to them had glossy black coats and great folded wings. Their ribs showed beneath their skin, and they stood in complete silence. I watched one turn its head towards the crowd. Its pale eye caught the lantern light. White breath drifted from its nostrils into the cold air. As it shifted its weight, the leather harness creaked, and the metal rings knocked together.
Thestrals.
I recognised them at once from Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them. Seeing them in front of me was different. They looked stranger than any drawing had managed to capture. I understood why most people could not see them. I almost wished I could not either.
Remus lifted a hand towards a figure farther along the path.
"That's Hagrid," he said. "He's the gamekeeper at Hogwarts."
I looked where he was pointing.
The man towered above everyone around him. He had a great mass of dark hair and beard, and his voice carried across the platform without any effort.
"Firs' years, this way!"
Lamps bobbed around him as nervous children gathered at his side. Some peered across the darkness towards the lake, trying to see where they were going. The older students drifted towards the waiting carriages while prefects counted heads and checked names.
For a moment, I wondered what it would have been like to arrive here as a first year, knowing nothing except that Hogwarts existed. I had imagined that journey more times than I could count. Now I was finally here, and I was walking straight past it.
Remus turned away from the carriages and headed along a narrower track.
"Over here," he said quietly.
I followed without speaking.
The path climbed through a stand of trees before levelling out in front of a pair of tall gates.
Stone pillars stood on either side, each crowned with a carved boar. Thick iron bars stretched between them, ending in sharp points at the top. Runes had been cut into the crossbar, their lines worn smooth by time. To the left stood a narrow wicket gate beside a small watch box. A lantern hung from a short chain above the door, its flame stirring each time the wind slipped through.
I slowed a few paces from the gates.
Something changed.
The tight feeling in my chest returned. The skin along my arms prickled, and the hairs on my forearms stood up. It was not fear. It felt more like walking towards powerful magic. I took another step.
A thin pressure brushed across my face, light enough that I almost wondered whether I had imagined it.
Then it was gone.
Remus looked back at me.
"Everything all right?"
"Yes," I said. "I'm taking it in."
He nodded and left it there.
Students kept streaming past us towards the carriages. Friends spotted each other and broke into smiles. Some called across the path. Others yawned behind their hands after the long journey. Two boys were arguing over a missing owl cage, while a girl examined a cracked hinge on her trunk with an expression that suggested she blamed the train for it. They walked without thinking about where they put their feet. They knew this place. They had done this before.
My eyes drifted back to the ironwork. Runes had been carved across the crossbar, their edges softened by years of wind and rain. Lichen filled parts of the grooves. The stone pillars bore carved boars whose snouts had been worn smooth in places. The hinges disappeared deep into the masonry without the slightest sign of rust or strain. Everything about the entrance suggested that generations had crossed this threshold and that someone had cared enough to keep it standing.
It struck me that these gates had probably been here long before my parents were born. Long before Dumbledore. They had watched thousands of witches and wizards arrive for the first time.
Now they were watching me.
We walked to the wicket gate.
Inside the watch box stood a wizard in dark robes with an open ledger spread across his desk. Another lantern hung above him, filling the small room with warm light. His wand rested beside an ink bottle. Next to it sat a square brass plate holding a small crystal.
As we approached, the crystal glowed a faint red before fading again.
"Name," the wizard said.
"Remus Lupin. Staff. Guest pass for my ward."
The wizard accepted the sealed note without comment. He touched it against a small crystal resting beside the ledger. The crystal brightened for a moment before returning to its usual dull colour.
He then picked up a slender brass rod and held it close to my wand. It gave a soft, steady note. A number appeared along the length of the rod, shining with pale gold light.
The wizard copied the number into the ledger with quick, practised strokes.
I guessed it was some kind of temporary record tied to my wand. Remus had explained that Hogwarts kept its own records inside the castle's wards. They were part of the school's magic and did not answer to anyone outside its boundaries.
The wizard finished writing, closed the ledger with one hand and looked up.
"Ward's clear," he said.
A witch stepped out from behind the watch box. She reached up to the hinge above the wicket gate and touched it with her wand. There was a dry click, as though something hidden inside the iron had released.
A faint pressure brushed over my scalp and shoulders before fading.
She pulled the gate open and stood aside.
"Through. Keep to the left until you reach the main drive."
Remus inclined his head.
"Thank you."
We passed beneath the iron gate.
The air on the other side felt cooler. It carried the smell of clean earth and old stone instead of coal smoke from the station. I drew in a slow breath and held it for a moment before letting it out. I had not realised how tense I had become until the tightness in my chest eased a little.
The path joined the main drive leading up to the castle. Gravel gave way to hard-packed earth, then to broad flagstones worn smooth by years of footsteps. Damp stone gave off its own cool scent. Above us, the sky had darkened from pale grey, leaving only a narrow strip of fading light along the horizon. Bats flickered between the pools of lantern light. Somewhere below, I heard carriage wheels rolling over the road. Beyond the trees came the sound of the lake, quiet against the shore.
Remus slowed.
"From this bend," he said, "you can see most of it."
We rounded the corner.
The castle came into view.
I stopped without meaning to.
It stood high above the grounds, its towers rising at different heights against the evening sky. Window after window shone with warm light. Smoke drifted from several chimneys into the still air. The walls rose straight from the rock beneath them, as though the castle had always belonged there. I had seen photographs and drawings before. Remus had described it to me more than once. None of them had come close.
So this was Hogwarts.
For years it had only existed in books, stories and the pictures I had built in my own head. Now it was real. I could see every tower and every lit window with my own eyes.
A small knot of nerves still sat in my stomach, but it no longer felt as though it would stop me moving.
I realised my palms were damp. I rubbed my fingertips together, feeling the thin layer of sweat against my skin. Before I could keep doing it, I wiped my hands once on my robes and forced myself to leave them alone.
"It is all right if the first sight feels overwhelming," Remus said quietly.
"I know."
The truth was that I did know. I just had not expected it to feel like this.
We climbed the last stretch towards the inner gate.
Lanterns hung from iron hooks beneath the arch, their light falling across two suits of armour standing on either side of the entrance. Their visors were lowered. Fine scratches marked the polished metal, as though generations of students had brushed against them while hurrying through.
As I stepped beneath the arch, another ripple of magic passed over me.
It brushed across my face and arms like a light current before disappearing.
I glanced up at the arch without slowing.
Another ward.
Hogwarts did not leave much to chance. That made sense. If any place in Britain deserved every protection that magic could provide, it was this one.
We walked through the gates together.
Conversations faltered for a moment. Heads turned as we passed. Boots scraped across the flagstones while students stepped aside to make room. No one spoke my name. Instead, they looked at me with the same puzzled expression, as though they were trying to remember where they had seen me before and finding nothing.
I knew that look.
It was the same one I had seen before photographs faded from albums and names slipped out of ordinary conversations.
I wondered whether it would always feel this strange.
I kept my expression neutral and matched Remus's pace. Heat crept up the back of my neck.
"Is this normal?" I asked quietly.
"You're new," Remus replied in the same calm voice. "You'll grow used to it, or you'll stop noticing it. Either way, it loses its hold on you."
I hoped he was right.
I fell into step beside him and counted three slow breaths. By the third, the feeling had settled enough that I could pay attention to where we were going.
We entered the main corridor.
The flagstones were cool beneath my shoes. Torches burned at regular intervals, giving off a bright, steady light without smoke. Portraits lined the walls, and their occupants followed us with open curiosity. A few leaned towards one another, their lips moving in conversation that never reached beyond the canvas. One elderly wizard peered over his spectacles at me before turning to whisper to the witch in the next frame.
A suit of armour inclined its visor by the smallest amount as we passed, then became still again.
Ahead of us, the staircase moved.
One flight slid across with a low grinding sound before settling against a different landing with a solid click. Another turned on its pivot until it met our floor. A prefect waiting at the top checked names against a board before directing a group of younger students towards a passage on the right.
I had read about the moving staircases often enough, but seeing them made me wonder how anyone ever reached lessons on time.
Remus turned into a quieter corridor.
We stopped outside a tall wooden door bound with broad iron straps. The wood carried the scent of polish and old resin. The hinge pins gleamed in the torchlight, well cared for despite their age.
Remus knocked once.
We waited.
The corridor was warm from nearby fires. The heat rested against my face and hands after the evening chill outside. The polished stone floor showed no sign of muddy footprints despite the number of people who must have crossed it every day. High above, the ceiling curved into neat ribs of stone. The air carried the scents of warm wax, ash, parchment and ink.
The door opened.
A witch stood at the far end of the room.
Her robes were deep green, perfectly pressed and without a single crease. A silver brooch fastened her collar on the left. Her dark hair had been drawn back into a tight bun, and square spectacles rested evenly on her nose. She stood perfectly straight, her hands folded in front of her.
Her eyes settled first on Remus.
Then they moved to me.
She studied me for several silent seconds.
I had the distinct feeling that she was not the sort of witch who overlooked anything.
Remus walked ahead at an even pace. His voice was calm.
"Good evening, Minerva."
She gave a short nod. "Mr Lupin."
He rested a hand on my shoulder. His grip was light, but it steadied me all the same.
"Harry, this is Professor Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress, Head of Gryffindor House, and Professor of Transfiguration."
I stepped forward and held out my hand. My palm had gone damp. I wiped my thumb against the seam of my robe before I took hold of hers.
"Pleased to meet you, Professor."
Her handshake was firm and exact.
"Welcome to Hogwarts, Mr Potter," she said. Her Scottish voice was clear and carried the sort of authority that made people listen without thinking about it. "You will be busy from your first day. There is work to do."
"Thank you."
She looked at me for a moment. It was not the sort of look that made me feel judged. It felt more as though she was measuring something for herself. Then she turned to the table.
Everything on it was arranged with care. Parchment lay in neat stacks, each bundle sealed and lined up with the next. Two quills rested on a tray, their nibs clean enough to catch the light. A small sand shaker stood beside the blotter, and a brass ruler marked the edge of the writing mat. She lifted the top sheet from one pile, checked a line, then placed it back with each corner perfectly square.
I had never seen a desk quite so orderly. It suited her. I could not imagine Professor McGonagall leaving anything half finished.
"You will begin classes with your year group tomorrow," she said. "We shall make allowances while you catch up. If you are uncertain about a procedure, ask a prefect or a member of staff. Timetables will be given out at breakfast."
"Understood."
Her expression softened, if only by a little.
"You are among people who wish you well."
The words caught me off guard. I had spent so much of my life expecting suspicion before kindness that hearing them spoken so plainly left me unsure what to say for a second.
"Thank you," I said. This time I meant far more than the words could manage.
Remus smiled.
"It is good to see you, Minerva."
"And you."
There was warmth in her voice now. It did not last long before she returned to business.
"I am pleased you have joined the staff. I am sure you know Albus arranged the post. It is temporary cover to assist with Defence and the warding rota. The appointment has been signed and lodged. That was always part of the plan."
"Yes," Remus said. "I know."
The mantle clock ticked with steady regularity.
Professor McGonagall turned back to me.
"For Transfiguration, precision is essential. You must have a clear intention and careful wand movement. Careless wand work causes injury. Keep your notes in order, and hand your work in on time."
"I will, Professor," I promised.
Her eyes dropped to my hands before returning to my face.
"See that you eat your evening meal, even if you are not hungry. Tired pupils make mistakes. If you feel unwell, report to the Hospital Wing. Madam Pomfrey is very efficient."
"I understand, Professor."
She looked across at Remus.
"There is a staff briefing after the Sorting. Mr Lupin, I should like you to attend."
He inclined his head.
"Of course."
While they spoke, I let my eyes wander around the office.
A high backed chair stood against the wall. It was plain and had no cushion. The edges of the desk were free from scratches or chips. Behind it, the bookcase held shelves of well-used volumes. I caught titles on wand movement, the limits of magical materials, reversal techniques, examination standards for each year, and classroom safety. Every book had been arranged by subject and height. A tray of teacups rested on a side table, each handle turned in exactly the same direction. A faint streak of chalk dust marked the cuff of Professor McGonagall's robe.
Nothing in the room seemed to have been left there by accident.
She noticed where I was looking.
"Discipline keeps pupils safe," she said. "You will find that the same standard applies in all of my classrooms."
"Yes, Professor."
Remus let out a quiet breath that sounded close to a laugh.
"Do try not to turn anyone into a toad," he said. "It is generally best if your classmates remain as they are."
For the first time, I saw Professor McGonagall's expression soften into something that was almost a smile. A brief laugh escaped her before she composed herself once more.
"I shall endeavour to prevent that," she said.
I found myself smiling as well. It was strange how quickly the room had become less formal. A moment before, I had been weighing every word I spoke. Now it felt a little easier to breathe.
The fire gave a soft hiss as one of the logs shifted, sending a few sparks up the chimney. Warmth reached my face, but I could still feel a thin draught from the corridor brushing against my ankles.
Professor McGonagall drew another sheet from the file and ran her eyes down the list.
"Your timetable will include Defence Against the Dark Arts, Transfiguration, Charms, Potions, Herbology and Astronomy. Catch up sessions will be arranged where necessary, and you will attend them. Mr Lupin will oversee any gaps in your previous schooling."
Remus nodded.
"I have the list. We shall take it one step at a time."
"Good."
She returned the parchment to the file, then slid it neatly into place with the others.
"Do not run on the staircases. If one moves while you are crossing, step back and wait. Do not attempt to jump between them. The portraits may speak to you. You may answer them with courtesy. The suits of armour also have a habit of starting conversations. I recommend that you do not encourage them."
"Yes, Professor."
"For written work, use black ink unless instructed otherwise. Write the date, subject and title at the top of each piece of work. Put your full name on the first line. If you do not know the answer to a question, write only what you can support with evidence. Do not guess."
"I understand."
She held my gaze for a moment.
I stood as straight as I could. My collar had begun to feel tight, and I was glad when she looked back towards the desk. I eased it loose with one finger before dropping my hand to my side again. It would not do to start fidgeting now.
"That will do for the present."
She closed the top drawer of her desk, then touched the cabinet beside it with the tip of her wand. There was a soft click as the lock settled into place. Satisfied, she turned back to us.
"Is everything clear, Mr Potter?"
"Yes, Professor."
She walked with us to the door.
It opened without a sound. The corridor beyond was lit by lamps whose glass had been polished until they shone. Somewhere in the distance I heard footsteps echoing through the castle. Some were quick, others slower. Then a single bell rang, clear enough to carry along the passage.
For a moment I listened.
It still felt strange to think that this was Hogwarts. After everything that had happened, I was standing inside the castle at last.
Professor McGonagall paused on the threshold.
"One last point, Mr Potter. Should anyone press you with questions, refer them to me or to the Headmaster. There is no need to say more than is necessary."
"I will."
"Good."
Her expression softened, though only a little.
"Welcome to Hogwarts."
"Thank you, Professor."
She inclined her head towards Remus.
"Mr Lupin."
"Professor."
She walked away without another word. Her footsteps echoed along the corridor until they disappeared around the corner. A moment later, the office door closed behind us with a quiet click.
Remus gave my shoulder a light squeeze.
The air was cooler than it had been in Professor McGonagall's office. Beneath my feet I felt the faint vibration that seemed to run through the castle itself. I had noticed the same feeling around places protected by old magic before. Hogwarts felt full of it.
Neither of us spoke.
Our footsteps echoed along the passage, mixed with the quiet sounds of doors opening and closing somewhere farther away. I kept pace with Remus.
We turned right, then left twice. The corridor narrowed before opening out again. The tapestries stirred as we passed, though there was no breeze that I could feel. One suit of armour inclined its helmet as though acknowledging us, then became still once more. Nearby, a staircase turned with a slow groan until it settled into a different position. I rested a hand on the banister as we waited, and felt it shiver before everything became still again.
I glanced at Remus.
"Still temperamental," he said.
"I thought someone had bewitched the staircases."
He gave a quiet laugh.
The sound settled something inside me. I had not realised how tense I had become until then.
I kept walking beside him. Part of me still expected something to go wrong. Too many things usually did. Even so, I could not ignore what I had been feeling since we arrived.
I wanted to be here.
The thought came so simply that I almost smiled to myself.
We climbed a spiral staircase that wound upwards in tight circles. By the time we reached the top, I could feel the effort in my legs, though I kept my breathing steady.
A broad landing stretched out before us. At the far end stood a heavy oak door with a brass griffin for a knocker. The metal caught the torchlight. It looked as though it had been polished that morning.
Remus looked across at me.
"All right?"
I nodded.
My mouth had gone dry.
"I think I am more worried about the hat than anything else."
The corner of his mouth lifted.
"You would not be the first."
He raised the griffin knocker and let it fall.
The door swung open without a sound.
Together, we stepped inside.
The Headmaster's office was brighter than the corridor outside.
A fire burned low in the grate, filling the room with steady warmth. Shelves lined the walls, crowded with books and curious instruments housed in polished wooden cases. Several had tiny dials that turned of their own accord. One brass instrument gave a soft click every few seconds, as though marking time for itself. Three telescopes stood together on a wheeled stand near the window. On a side table, a silver device released a thin thread of smoke that curled into the air before fading from sight.
The room smelled faintly of beeswax polish. Beneath it was something sharp and sweet that reminded me of citrus. It was strangely familiar. I thought of the scent of polished leather inside the carriage and wondered if every room in the castle carried traces of the same care.
Portraits covered the walls. Most of their occupants appeared to be asleep, though now and then I caught an eyelid twitch or a face shift against its cushion. On a golden perch beside the desk, a phoenix rested with its head tucked beneath one wing. Even in the softer light, its scarlet and gold feathers seemed to catch every flicker from the fire.
Behind a large desk near the window sat Professor Dumbledore.
There were stacks of parchment spread across the polished surface, but each pile seemed to have its place. Nothing looked forgotten. An open tin of sherbet lemons sat beside an inkstand.
His blue eyes settled on Remus first, then on me.
He did not speak at once. He never seemed to hurry anything.
"Harry," he said at last. "Do come in."
I walked forward.
My heart gave a hard thump before settling into a quicker rhythm. I wished it would stop doing that. It was only Professor Dumbledore. Somehow that made it worse.
Remus closed the door behind us. He stayed where he was, a step to my left. I did not need to look at him to know he was there, and I found that reassuring.
A three-legged stool stood before the desk.
Resting on it was the Sorting Hat.
Its brim was worn at the edges, and the leather band had darkened with age. I had seen it more than once in dreams, though never clearly enough to remember the details afterwards. Standing in front of the real thing at seventeen felt strange. Most witches and wizards met the Hat when they were eleven. I had missed that moment, and now there was no pretending otherwise.
"It is uncommon for a student to be Sorted at your age," Professor Dumbledore said. His voice was calm, as though there was nothing unusual about any of this. "Your circumstances, however, are unusual. The Hat will place you in the House where you may be best known and protected. Once you belong to a House, your presence here becomes ordinary. At present, ordinary is one of our greatest protections."
I thought about that for a moment.
It sounded odd to think of being ordinary as something valuable. After everything that had happened, perhaps it was.
"All right," I said.
Professor Dumbledore turned the stool a little so that it faced me.
"Please."
I crossed to the stool and sat down.
The wood was solid beneath me and did not shift. I rested my hands on my knees to stop myself fidgeting.
The Sorting Hat felt heavier than I had expected when I picked it up with both hands. The old felt was dry and rough against my palms. It smelled of dust, old cloth and something that reminded me of ink left too long in a bottle.
Remus stood close by. I could not see him now, but I knew exactly where he was. Somehow that made this easier.
The phoenix stirred once on its perch, then settled again.
From somewhere to my right came the sound of gentle snoring.
I had a feeling one of the portraits was putting on a show.
Professor Dumbledore watched me without saying anything. He did not lean forwards or sit back. He simply waited.
"Ready, Harry?"
I gave a quick nod.
There did not seem much point in pretending I was.
I lowered the Hat over my head.
The brim brushed my hair before slipping over my ears. The lining settled against the top of my head, and for a heartbeat there was only silence.
Then a voice spoke beside my ear.
"Well, well…"
It sounded old, rough and faintly amused.
"This is unusual. Very unusual indeed. Harry Potter."
I stayed still.
Talking aloud would probably look odd, and I was not certain whether I was meant to answer at all.
"You have courage enough to spare. That much is plain. You are loyal beyond good sense, and that has cost you more than once. Your mind is sharper than you allow yourself to believe. As for ambition, you have tried your hardest to bury it."
The Hat gave what sounded like a thoughtful hum.
"But wanting to change the world for the better is ambition too."
I said nothing.
The Hat did not seem to mind.
"This is no longer a question of what you might become. You have already been shaped by your choices. By grief. By sacrifice. By dark magic. You have spent too much of your life alone, and yet you have never stopped reaching for other people."
My fingers tightened against my knees before I realised I was doing it.
"You do not wish to be remembered because you survived," the Hat went on quietly. "You wish to matter for something beyond that."
The words settled somewhere deep inside me.
I had never put it into words before, but they felt uncomfortably close to the truth.
Then the Hat fell silent.
When it spoke again, its voice had changed.
"Curious."
A pause followed.
"Very curious indeed."
I felt my stomach tighten.
"There are minds within this castle that ought to know you. They do not. Their memories have been altered with great care. The magic is old, deliberate and remarkably thorough."
A cold weight settled in my chest.
"But you are here," the Hat said, its voice quieter now. "You keep choosing. However weary you become, you do not stop. You keep going."
For a moment, it was silent.
Then it shouted so loudly that I flinched.
"GRYFFINDOR!"
The word rang through the office before the echoes faded into silence.
The Hat was lifted from my head.
I blinked against the light.
Professor Dumbledore was watching me over the top of his half-moon spectacles. There was a small smile on his face. Behind me, I heard Remus let out the breath he had been holding.
"Gryffindor," said Professor Dumbledore with a single nod. "Yes."
A small box on the corner of his desk sprang open with a soft click.
Inside rested a silver badge. A lion, picked out in red and gold enamel, gleamed against the polished metal.
Professor Dumbledore picked it up and held it out to me.
"Welcome, Mr Potter."
I reached for it, but before I could take it he spoke again.
This time his voice was quieter.
"Hogwarts now bears your name once more, Harry. Within these walls, the change is complete. Beyond the boundaries of the castle, the enchantment remains in place. The wider world may not remember you, but Hogwarts does. Its registers remember you. Its records remember you. Your House remembers you."
I looked at him without speaking.
"The school register has long been protected against outside attempts to alter or erase it. I sought permission to create a single exception. Hogwarts may acknowledge your existence without disturbing the enchantment that protects the rest of the world. Those beyond these grounds will remember nothing unless that protection is lifted."
I let the words settle in my mind.
For so long, it had felt as though I had slipped out of the world altogether. People had forgotten me because powerful magic had made them forget. There had been nothing I could do about it.
Yet here…
Here, my name belonged again.
I accepted the badge.
The silver felt cool against my fingers. It had more weight than I expected, and the pin rested against my palm.
"Thank you, sir."
"You are most welcome, Harry."
I looked down at the lion for a moment before closing my hand around it.
Gryffindor.
I had wondered what the Hat would see when it looked inside my head. Now I had my answer.
Remus rested two fingers against the middle of my back.
"I told you the Hat knew what it was about."
I looked round at him and found myself smiling.
"You did."
He opened the office door.
The warmth of the fire disappeared as soon as we stepped outside, but the smell of beeswax and old parchment still clung to the sleeves of my robes.
"Right," Remus murmured, already setting off. "I will give you a quick sense of the place before I change my mind again unexpectedly."
"I'm not sure that's a joke."
"Neither am I," he said without slowing.
That sounded about right. I still could not tell when he was teasing and when he meant every word. Maybe he was not certain himself.
Torches burned without smoke along the walls. Their light spread across the stone but left patches of shadow between them. The flagstones beneath my feet were worn and uneven, and every step drew a quiet scrape from the soles of my shoes. When my fingers brushed the wall, the stone felt rough and cold. A draught crept along the floor from a distant stairwell. Somewhere below us, voices rose and fell together, too far away for me to make out a single word.
Portraits covered the passage. A wizard in plum robes rested his cheek against one hand and watched us pass without blinking. The torchlight caught the paint on his sleeve, making it shine. A witch dressed for travel closed the book in her lap, nodded to Remus, then turned an open, curious look on me. Two children in a small landscape pointed in my direction and whispered to each other.
I kept my eyes ahead.
Being watched was nothing new. It never stopped feeling strange.
"You will find the castle follows regular patterns," Remus said as we climbed a narrow staircase that curved sharply to the right. "Do not argue with the staircases. Step off when they stop, even if it is not where you meant to go. If you need directions, ask one of the portraits. More often than not, they will help."
"I'll try to remember that."
"It will save you a great deal of time."
We turned left beside a long window. Night had settled over the grounds. Lines of torchlight marked the paths below in thin bands of gold. Beyond them I could just make out the dark shapes of trees and, farther away, the faint glimmer of water. I steadied myself for a moment with one hand against the glass. It was cold enough to make me pull it away again.
"Everyone loses their bearings during the first week," Remus went on. "Do not worry if you do."
"I'm already lost," I said, keeping my voice as steady as I could.
"That puts you ahead," he replied, and the corner of his mouth lifted.
A laugh almost escaped me before I caught it. It was a dreadful joke, but after everything that had happened, I was surprised to find I did not mind.
We passed a suit of armour that lifted its visor the width of a finger before letting it fall again with a quiet tick from the hinge. Beside it hung a tapestry showing a group of witches and wizards in old-fashioned robes trying to wrestle a huge plant with long, tooth-filled pods. One of the wizards was waving his arms in panic until he noticed me looking. He stopped at once and stared back.
I looked away and kept walking.
As we climbed, the sounds on each floor became easier to pick out. Somewhere nearby, a clock marked the quarter with a soft, steady chime. A door banged along another corridor, followed by a burst of laughter that faded almost as quickly as it had begun. The air smelled of old stone, wool, and the heat from the torch sconces. Underneath it all was the faint smell of fresh bread and something sweet. It had to be drifting up from the kitchens.
A short staircase shifted to the right as soon as we stepped onto it.
I stopped without thinking. The movement was slow enough to give warning through the handrails before the whole staircase settled into place again. It was strange, but after everything I had seen at Hogwarts, moving staircases hardly seemed worth questioning anymore.
I let out a slow breath.
Some of the tightness in my chest eased for the first time since the Sorting Hat had touched my head.
The badge was still warm where I had been holding it. I looked down at it for a moment before fastening it to my robes. The polished metal caught the torchlight, and the red and gold gleamed for a second before the light shifted away.
"Better?" Remus asked.
"A bit."
"Good."
He slowed and tilted his head as though listening to something I could not hear.
"You'll learn which portraits are happy to give directions and which prefer to be left alone," he said. "In time, you'll know the staircases as well."
I hoped so. At the moment I could barely remember which way we had come.
We turned into another passage. Small brass lamps lined the wall ahead, their flames burning with a clear, steady light. They showed a thin layer of dust along the edge of the floor where hardly anyone seemed to walk. As I brushed it with the side of my shoe, it left a narrow clean mark behind.
The air was still here.
My breathing had settled without me noticing. I matched each step to the next and kept my eyes on the corridor ahead.
A final flight of steps brought us to a broad landing beneath a high stone arch. Beyond it, the corridor widened. Quiet voices drifted from somewhere around a distant corner before fading again.
Remus glanced back at me.
He had done that several times since we'd left the office. He never stared or asked whether I was all right. He only seemed to check that I was still with him.
"Keep close," he said quietly. "We'll take it section by section."
I nodded.
My throat still felt tight, but my footing was steady against the stone.
We walked on.
We stopped in front of a pair of enormous wooden doors carved with old runes and the school crest.
I recognised the lion and the badger at once. The snake had to be Slytherin. The bird must be Ravenclaw, though I had never actually been told what its emblem was.
"This is the Great Hall," Remus said, pushing the doors open with both hands.
I stepped through the doorway and stopped.
Warm air met my face. Hundreds of candles floated overhead, and I caught the faint smell of melted wax.
The hall was far larger than I had imagined.
Above us, the enchanted ceiling showed the evening sky in perfect detail. The last of the sunset was fading into dusk. The clouds still held streaks of gold against the deepening grey. Four long tables stretched the length of the hall, their polished tops reflecting the candlelight until it seemed to shimmer across the wood. At the far end stood another table on a raised platform. The high-backed chairs behind it were carved with the symbols of the four Houses.
For a moment I forgot to move.
I had heard about Hogwarts for years. People had spoken about it as though it were the most ordinary place in the world. Standing inside it was something else entirely.
"People eat their meals here," Remus said, as though there were nothing remarkable about the room. "Assemblies, examinations and ceremonies are held here as well. You'll get used to it."
I wasn't convinced.
Before I could ask whether the ceiling always matched the sky outside, Remus was moving again, and I followed him out into the corridor.
"The classrooms are spread throughout the castle," he said, keeping a pace that left me little choice but to stay beside him. "Charms is taught by Professor Flitwick. He is small, precise and exceptionally skilled. You've learnt enough with me not to look completely lost. The rest will come."
I hoped he was right.
I still wasn't entirely sure where Charms ended and the rest of magic began, but that felt like the sort of question I ought to know the answer to by now.
He indicated a tall door on our left.
"Transfiguration. Professor McGonagall's classroom. It is one of the more demanding subjects. She expects concentration and control from the moment you walk through the door."
That sounded exactly like Professor McGonagall from everything I had heard and seen.
We rounded another corner and stepped onto a staircase that shifted beneath our feet before settling into place again.
"Potions is taught in the dungeons," Remus continued. "They're cold, and they're damp. Many ingredients react badly to heat or careless handling, so leave every sealed jar alone unless you're told otherwise."
That, at least, sounded like advice worth remembering.
We passed a tapestry showing a wizard trying to teach a group of goblins a formal dance. They stamped their feet, bowed together, and started the whole sequence again. One of the goblins looked up as I walked by, frowned as though I'd interrupted something important, then returned to the dance.
"History of Magic is upstairs," Remus said. "It's compulsory. Professor Binns teaches it. He's a ghost."
"A ghost?" I looked round at him.
"He died many years ago and simply carried on teaching. His lessons are delivered at the same pace from beginning to end. Take notes, and have a cup of tea beforehand if you find yourself struggling to stay awake."
I wasn't sure whether he was joking this time either.
He showed me the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom, which was his, and then led me to the library.
Tall carved doors stood open. Even from the threshold I could smell old paper, leather bindings and dust. My footsteps sounded softer on the wooden floor just inside, and the silence was so complete that I could not hear a single careless whisper.
"You'll spend a great deal of time here," Remus said. "Madam Pince is the librarian. Treat the books with respect."
I understood that well enough.
Books had never been easy to come by while I was growing up. It still felt wrong to handle one carelessly.
We moved on, passing a statue of a one-eyed witch before turning into another corridor. Ahead of us, a group of third years stood in front of a portrait, arguing with the painted wizard inside it. He folded his arms and refused to look at them until one of the students muttered what sounded like the correct password. Only then did he step aside.
"Each House has its own common room and dormitories," Remus explained. "You're in Gryffindor. This week's password is Flarewood. It changes every week. The Fat Lady guards the entrance."
He paused for a moment.
"She enjoys singing. It is usually best not to comment on it."
I almost smiled.
It was the first thing I'd heard about Hogwarts all evening that sounded completely ordinary.
Perhaps something showed on my face, because Remus slowed.
"You'll learn it all," he said. His voice had softened. "Give it time. Hogwarts has a way of becoming familiar. Even when you think it never will."
I nodded.
I wanted to answer, but the words stayed where they were.
We stepped outside for the last part of the walk.
The grounds stretched away in wide slopes of grass that ran down towards the lake and across to the edge of the forest. The evening air smelled of cut grass, damp earth and cold stone. There was another smell too. It was faint, but I recognised it after a moment. It was the sharp scent that often lingered after magic had been used.
Remus pointed towards a distant oval surrounded by stands, with three tall goal hoops rising at either end. A crosswind caught the pennants and sent them snapping above the seats.
"The Quidditch pitch," he said. "It's dangerous. It's also one of the most popular places in the school."
I kept my eyes on it for another moment but said nothing.
Remus had never been keen on letting me fly unless he was certain it was safe. I couldn't blame him. After everything we'd both lived through, he had good reasons to be careful.
He nodded towards the dark line of trees beyond the grounds.
"The Forbidden Forest. Students are not allowed to enter."
I looked across to it. The trees stood close together, their branches swallowing what little light remained. It was easy to believe there was more hidden inside than anyone wanted to admit.
Beyond the forest, the Black Lake stretched into the distance. Small ripples crossed its dark surface. Something broke the water for a moment before disappearing again. I could not tell whether it had been a tail or a fin.
"And up there," Remus went on, pointing to the tallest turret, "is the Owlery. You'll find the school owls there if you need to send a letter."
He continued the tour.
The Herbology greenhouses stood behind the castle, their glass panes marked by streaks of moisture and earth. He pointed out the corridor leading to the Hospital Wing, where tall windows overlooked the lawns outside. Through one of them I caught sight of neatly made beds standing in a row, with folding screens waiting against the walls.
When he mentioned a room that only appeared when someone truly needed it, something in his expression changed.
He did not explain any further.
I thought about asking, but decided against it. There had already been enough to remember.
Names. Corridors. Staircases. Rules. Professors.
It all seemed determined to crowd into my head at once.
We eventually returned to the Entrance Hall.
The broad stone flags beneath our feet had been worn smooth by generations of students. Torches burned from iron brackets along the walls, throwing warm light across the high ceiling. Doors opened in every direction. The Great Hall lay behind one pair, classrooms beyond another, while a long passage disappeared towards the back staircase.
Remus glanced at his watch.
"Staff meeting in five minutes," he said. "Will you be all right on your own?"
I hesitated.
Part of me wanted him to start again from the beginning, only slower this time. There was no chance I'd remember everything after one walk around the castle.
But he had his own job to do.
I straightened my shoulders.
"Yes," I said. "I'll manage."
He watched me for another moment, as though deciding whether to believe me.
"If you need anything, my office is on the second floor. The staff room is near the Defence corridor, behind the portrait with far too many keys." A faint smile touched his face. "Ask if you need help. Don't wait."
"I will."
He gave my shoulder a brief squeeze before heading up the nearest staircase.
I stood where I was until he disappeared from sight.
The Entrance Hall seemed quieter without him. One of the candle flames flickered, and somewhere high above came the slow sound of stone shifting as another staircase moved into place.
I drew a long breath, then let it out.
The badge on my robes felt cool against my chest.
My fingers brushed over it without thinking.
For the first time in years, I was standing somewhere I was meant to be.
That thought stayed with me as I turned to face the castle on my own.