The sky gradually deepened into dusk. Draco glanced out of the window and saw mountains and forests beneath the dark purple sky. The train was slowing.
"In five minutes, we will arrive at Hogwarts. Please leave your luggage on the train; it will be taken to the school for you," a voice echoed through the carriages.
"It's finally here." At the announcement, a strange emotion stirred within Draco—a mixture of excitement and uncertainty, perhaps the truest reflection of his feelings.
The train ground to a halt. Passengers jostled towards the doors and stepped down onto a small, dark platform. Draco placed his book back into his trunk and joined the throng.
He inhaled sharply. The air outside was cold.
"First-years! First-years, this way! Mind your step!" An unusually tall man with a thick beard was keeping order.
"So the giant blood must be true," Draco thought quietly, studying Hagrid.
The new students followed Hagrid, slipping and stumbling along a steep, narrow path that sloped downward. The sides were pitch-black.
"Round this bend, you'll see Hogwarts for the first time!" Hagrid called. A chorus of gasps followed.
At the end of the path, a vast black lake appeared. Beyond it, high on the slopes, stood a magnificent castle, its towers and turrets outlined against the starry sky, windows glittering.
"This is Hogwarts." Draco stared, momentarily dazed. Unlike the sombre atmosphere of the Malfoy manor, Hogwarts radiated age and grandeur. The ancient stone and weathered walls spoke of centuries past.
"No more than four to a boat!" Hagrid called, gesturing towards the small boats moored at the shore.
"Pansy!" Draco spotted her in the crowd and called out instinctively. It was preferable to share a boat with her rather than with strangers.
"Hmph." Pansy glanced at him with clear displeasure and boarded another boat without looking back.
"What have I done this time?" Draco muttered, puzzled by her shifting moods.
"I'll ask her later." He stepped into a boat at random.
"Everyone aboard?" Hagrid called, taking a boat by himself. "Right then—forward!"
The fleet of boats glided across the mirror-like lake. No one spoke. The castle loomed ever higher as they approached the cliff.
"Heads down!" Hagrid shouted.
The boats carried them beneath an overhang of ivy and into a hidden entrance. They drifted through a dark tunnel and finally emerged at what resembled an underground harbour. One by one, the students stepped onto the gravel.
"Thank Merlin!" Neville suddenly cried, clutching his toad in delight. He had found Trevor in an empty boat.
"I see you've recovered your toad," Draco said, standing behind him.
"Th-thank you," Neville stammered.
"Since that's settled, let's move along." Draco scanned the crowd again but still failed to spot Pansy.
By lantern light, the first-years climbed a tunnel through the rock and emerged onto damp grass in the shadow of the castle. They ascended stone steps and gathered before enormous oak doors. Hagrid knocked three times.
The door swung open.
"Thank you, Hagrid." A tall witch in emerald robes stood before them, her expression stern—Professor McGonagall.
She led them into a small chamber. It was cramped and crowded.
"Welcome to Hogwarts," Professor McGonagall began. "The start-of-term feast will begin shortly. Before you join the others, you will be sorted into your Houses…"
She explained the four Houses, the system of points, and the significance of the House Cup.
Harry and Ron whispered anxiously. Hermione muttered spells under her breath.
Draco, however, was distracted. Sorting mattered less to him at the moment than resolving matters with Pansy.
"There she is." He finally saw her among a group of girls, laughing brightly.
He pushed gently through the crowd.
"Ladies, may I interrupt? I believe my friend and I have a misunderstanding that ought to be clarified." He bowed slightly, flawlessly polite.
"Your little boyfriend is quite handsome," the girls teased, stepping aside.
"I've nothing to say to him," Pansy replied coolly.
"She's truly angry," one of the girls whispered playfully before withdrawing.
"I think I deserve to know what I've done wrong," Draco began.
"You didn't even look for me on the train. Do you know how bored I was?" Pansy demanded.
Draco hesitated.
"I even searched other carriages for you," she added, softer now.
"Perhaps you simply forgot about me."
Silence lingered.
Then she suddenly laughed. "Your expression just now was priceless."
Draco realised too late that he had been thoroughly teased.
"You're always so composed. It's dull," she said lightly.
She stepped closer. "Last time, when I threatened you, you were calm. Today, you were flustered. That means I matter."
Before Draco could react, she rose on tiptoe and brushed a fleeting kiss against his forehead.
The girls cheered. Pansy flushed scarlet.
Draco could only sigh inwardly. Provoking a witch had consequences—though not unpleasant ones.
"Please remain quiet!" Professor McGonagall's voice cut through the noise.
Suddenly, shrieks erupted. Pale figures drifted through the walls—ghosts, pearly and translucent.
While others recoiled, Draco observed them calmly. Non-corporeal, sentient, intangible—interesting characteristics.
Professor McGonagall returned. "Form a line. Follow me."
Draco moved, only to feel his sleeve tugged. Pansy gazed up at him with theatrical tears.
"Stop pretending. I know you weren't frightened," Draco replied dryly.
She pouted, instantly restored. "How dull."
They entered the Great Hall. Thousands of candles floated overhead, illuminating four long tables filled with students. The enchanted ceiling shimmered with stars.
"How is the spell sustained indefinitely?" Draco wondered, rather than marvelling like the others.
The Sorting Hat was placed upon a stool and sang its song. When it finished, applause echoed.
"Hannah Abbott!"
"HUFFLEPUFF!"
One by one, students were sorted.
Draco stepped forward when his name was called.
Would the result differ, given that his soul was not the same?
The Hat paused.
"Ravenclaw," it murmured within his mind. "Such hunger for knowledge…"
But then—
"Ambition. Deeply buried ambition. Knowledge is merely your tool."
"SLYTHERIN!"
Draco smiled faintly and joined the Slytherin table beside Pansy.
"Thought you'd go to Ravenclaw," she whispered.
"My parents would never forgive it," Draco replied lightly.
Soon, cheers erupted—Harry had been sorted into Gryffindor.
"Lucky," Pansy muttered.
When the feast began, Draco surveyed the dishes with mixed enthusiasm.
Peppermints among the courses? Hogwarts cuisine remained questionable.
After supper, the Slytherin prefect led the first-years down to their dungeon common room.
"Password?" the carved snake hissed.
"Pure-blood," the prefect replied.
The room beyond was dim and green-lit, stone walls curving overhead.
Honour and ambition bound Slytherin more effectively than rules ever could, Draco reflected.
At last, Draco reached his dormitory, unpacked, and lay down.
"The school year begins," he thought, before sleep claimed him.
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