The rhythm of the Hogwarts Express was a physical heartbeat, a clack-clack, clack-clack that seemed to chant the word finally over and over again. As the London suburbs melted into the rolling green hills of Hertfordshire, the compartment door slid open with a rattle.
"Anything from the trolley, dears?"
A plump, smiling witch stood there with a cart overflowing with wizarding delights. Alex didn't even wait for me; he jumped up, his Gringotts gold jingling in his pocket.
"Six Pumpkin Pasties, a stack of Cauldron Cakes, and—Ash, do you want the Licorice Wands?" he asked, his face alight with the pure, unadulterated joy of a ten-year-old on an adventure.
"Just a Chocolate Frog for now, Alex," I said, handing over a few Sickles.
I unwrapped the frog, catching it mid-leap before it could escape out the window. The card inside was Goddric Gryffindor, his painted eyes twinkling at me. I bit into the chocolate, the rich, magical cocoa grounding me. This was the taste of my new life.
Halfway through the journey, I left Alex debating Quidditch stats with a boy named Colin Creevey in our compartment and went to find Addam. Walking down the narrow corridor of the Express was like walking through the pages of a history book.
I passed a compartment where a bushy-haired girl was lecturing two boys about the properties of Mandrake Restorative Draughts—Hermione Granger, looking even more brilliant and high-strung in person. Further down, I saw a pale boy with a pointed face—Draco Malfoy—sneering as he showed off a new broomstick manual to two hulking boys, Crabbe and Goyle.
But it was when I reached the older years' carriages that I saw him. Addam was sitting with a group of Ravenclaws, a thick book on Advanced Rune Patterns open on his lap. He looked up and beamed.
"Settling in, Ash?" he asked, sliding the door open.
"Alex is currently vibrating with enough energy to power the train," I laughed. "And I... I'm just taking it all in."
"It only happens once," Addam said, his voice dropping to a gentle, brotherly tone. "The first arrival. Don't let the nerves swallow the magic. Look out the window; we're crossing the border into Scotland."
As night fell, the lamp-lit interior of the train became a cozy sanctuary against the darkening Highland peaks. Finally, the train slowed. A voice echoed through the carriage: "We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes' time. Please leave your luggage on the train; it will be told to the school separately."
My stomach did a nervous somersault. I adjusted my new robes, the plain black fabric heavy and crisp. I ushered Artemis back into her carrier, whispering a promise that we'd be reunited soon.
We stepped out onto the tiny, dark platform of Hogsmeade Station. The air was freezing, smelling of pine needles and damp earth. Then, a voice like a booming drum shattered the chill.
"Firs'-years! Firs'-years over here! "
A giant of a man with a wild tangle of black beard and eyes like glinting beetles stood over the crowd, holding a swinging lantern that looked like a moon. Rubeus Hagrid.
"Come on, now, follow me! Any more firs'-years? Watch yer step!"
We followed Hagrid down a steep, narrow path that wound through a thicket of trees. Nobody spoke much. The only sounds were the crunch of gravel and Alex's heavy breathing beside me.
"Ye'll get yer firs' sight o' Hogwarts in a silver o' a second," Hagrid called over his shoulder.
The path opened abruptly onto the edge of a great, black lake. And there, perched atop a high mountain on the other side, its windows sparkling in the starry sky, was the castle.
"It's real," I whispered, the words catching in my throat. I had seen the movies, read the descriptions a thousand times, but the sheer, vertical majesty of those stone turrets was something no book could capture. It felt ancient. It felt alive.
"Four to a boat!" Hagrid commanded.
Alex and I climbed into a small boat with a girl who was clutching her robes tightly. As the fleet of boats moved simultaneously across the glass-smooth water, I looked down. Far below the surface, a giant, dark shape drifted by—the Giant Squid, its massive tentacle breaking the surface for a brief, playful moment before disappearing into the depths.
"Did you see that?!" Alex hissed, his fear replaced by wonder.
We moved through a tunnel of ivy, under a dark curtain of rock, and finally arrived at an underground harbor. We climbed a flight of stone steps and crowded around a huge, oak front door.
Professor McGonagall was waiting for us—stern, emerald-robed, and exactly as formidable as I'd imagined. She led us through the flagged stone floor, the echoes of our footsteps mingling with the distant roar of hundreds of voices.
When the double doors to the Great Hall swung open, I forgot to breathe.
The ceiling was the first thing I looked at. It was enchanted to look like the sky outside, scattered with stars and wisps of clouds, so that it seemed as if the Hall opened directly into the heavens. Thousands of candles floated in mid-air over four long tables, where the rest of the school sat, their golden plates and goblets glinting.
At the High Table, I saw Dumbledore, his silver beard shimmering, and Snape, whose dark gaze was already sweeping over the new arrivals like a hawk.
I looked toward the Ravenclaw table and saw Addam. He caught my eye and gave a small, encouraging nod.
I stood in the line of first-years, my heart thumping against my ribs. The Sorting Hat was being placed on a four-legged stool. In a moment, my name would be called. My journey was no longer a plan on a piece of parchment or a dream from another life.
I was standing in the heart of the magic. And as the Hat began to sing, I knew that whatever house I was sorted into, I was finally, truly, home.