Chapter 34 — Sorting and Unsettling Thoughts
The scenery outside the train window gradually darkened. The Hogwarts Express slowed, then stopped with a soft groan at the platform.
"First-years! This way—mind yer step!"
A massive silhouette guided a cluster of small, nervous students toward the boats. As tradition dictated, the new arrivals would cross the lake in groups of four—reenacting the founders' legendary entrance. The rest of the students headed toward the carriages.
"Goodbye!" Luna waved at Draco, smiling dreamily.
"Let's hope we don't meet again," Draco muttered under his breath, though he forced himself to wave back politely.
Of course, he knew that was impossible.
Following the crowd, he found an empty carriage and climbed in. Once the seats filled, the carriage jolted forward, then smoothly glided along with increasing speed. Even with magic, a few students gasped and began speculating loudly about the enchantments involved.
If that girl saw this, she wouldn't be theorizing, Draco thought dryly, remembering Luna's wide, silvery eyes. She'd be watching the thestrals pull the carriage and chatting with them.
Strangely enough, that thought made the "torture" from the train ride seem… less painful.
The gates opened, and students poured into the castle. The Great Hall was already glowing:
Hundreds of candles floated overhead, illuminating the four long tables. Gold plates gleamed. Goblets sparkled. Above it all stretched the enchanted ceiling, showing a night sky full of cold, glittering stars.
Draco poked idly at the food in his bowl and scanned the hall. A few seats away, Hermione kept glancing toward the doors, clearly anxious. No Harry. No Ron.
France is a little too hospitable, Draco thought, imagining poor Pansy still trapped at her relatives' house. I'm late, but those two managed to make a spectacle of themselves.
The side door creaked open, and the first-years filed in. Pale faces. Trembling hands. Ginny Weasley looked particularly ghost-like, eyes darting everywhere as though searching for safety.
Your idol and brother are probably being roasted by Snape right now, Draco thought.
Luna, in contrast, drifted forward as though she were strolling through her own living room. Her eyes sparkled with curiosity. Draco suspected she was scanning the hall for one of her imaginary beasts.
Their gazes met. She waved at him again.
Professor McGonagall began calling names.
"Colin Creevey."
A tiny, jittery boy stumbled forward. The moment the hat touched his head, it shouted:
"GRYFFINDOR!"
Colin nearly skipped to his table—only for his joy to falter when he found no sign of his hero.
"Ginny Weasley!"
The girl crept toward the hat like a prisoner approaching judgment. Her hands shook as she put it on, terrified the hat might doom her to Slytherin.
Her fear, of course, was unnecessary.
"I've never known a Weasley to go anywhere else—GRYFFINDOR!"
Ginny sagged with relief and hurried to her brothers, who pulled her into the Gryffindor crowd.
"Told you," the twins chimed.
More students followed, the sorting proceeding quickly—until a name caused a stir.
"Luna Lovegood."
She walked forward wearing a serene, crescent-moon smile. She even examined the Sorting Hat before putting it on, earning a gentle scold from the hat itself.
Strands of pale gold hair poked out beneath the torn brim.
"Hmmm… let me think," the hat murmured. Luna's mind was difficult to grasp—too scattered, too fluid. Too Luna.
"What an unusual girl… Perhaps… yes, I think—RAVENCLAW!"
The hesitation was rare, but the choice felt inevitable.
"Extraordinary intelligence and wisdom are humanity's greatest treasures," Luna chanted softly, removing the hat before drifting to her new house. A few Ravenclaws welcomed her warmly.
With the last student sorted, the hall relaxed.
Draco murmured a spell under his breath—Muffliato—tuning the world into harmless buzzing. Better white noise than the Weasley twins' creatively mangled school songs.
While the rest of the hall sang and chattered, he lowered his head, deep in thought.
There were two possibilities for the diary.
First: someone outside Hogwarts took it, and it's lost.
That would leave a Horcrux forever wandering the world.
Unlikely… but terrifying.
Second—and far more probable: a student took it.
After all, it happened in a bookstore. The ring had tempted anyone nearby. Why not the diary?
But why didn't it tempt me? Draco wondered. Different material? Or do I already have mental immunity?
He snorted softly.
Unlikely.
The second possibility meant the diary was now somewhere in the castle.
With anyone.
The basilisk was easy; any skilled professor could eliminate it. McGonagall alone could animate fifty suits of armor and bludgeon it to death.
But destroying the Horcrux…
He couldn't reveal that without revealing far too much.
I can only take it step by step. Prevent what I can. Control what I can.
His hand drifted to the mental outline of the plan he'd prepared.
Then the table rattled. Violently.
Someone was standing over him—someone very familiar—glowering with sharp, angry eyes.
"Welcome back," Draco said cheerfully, lifting the spell. His head throbbed instantly.
The year had officially begun.
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