Hogwarts' first day of classes felt like trying to swim through a rushing stream for the new first-years.
On paper the timetable looked relaxed, but every lesson packed in so much content that you had to stay completely focused just to keep up.
Not to mention the constant chill of Professor Snape's icy stare during Potions. (Of course, if they'd taken History of Magic yet they might have had a different opinion.)
By the time the last rays of sunset painted the castle spires warm gold, the Ravenclaw first-years trudged back to their tower common room, tired but quietly satisfied.
The bronze raven on the door asked its riddle again.
"Listen carefully: A knight who always lies and an honest guard stand watch over two doors—one leads to life, the other to death. The knight says: 'The guard will tell you he guards the door to life.' Which door should you choose to stay safe?"
It was a classic logic-paradox variant. For the little eagles it wasn't hard. Padma Patil stepped forward. "I choose the door the knight guards."
The raven's eyes flashed. "Correct." But the door stayed shut.
"Very good. That was only the warm-up. Now suppose both the knight and the guard are still here, but you have no idea who is who. You may ask one of them a single question. What do you ask, and how do you guarantee you find the door to life?"
Padma froze.
Julien smiled. This was the classic "two doors, two guards" puzzle. He'd solved similar ones in his previous life, but he wanted to see if the eleven-year-old eagles could crack it.
The little eagles thought hard. Time was running out. Then a quiet girl who had barely spoken all day—Lisa Turpin—stepped up.
She was small and slight, with pale yellow hair and black-framed glasses that made her look even younger.
"The answer is: ask either one, 'If I asked the other guard which door leads to life, what would he say?' Then choose the opposite door. The logic is that no matter who you ask, the double question always points to the door of death."
"Correct!"
The door swung open. Everyone stared at Lisa in amazement and burst into applause. Lisa blushed bright red.
Looks like Ravenclaw has plenty of sharp minds, Julien thought. And Lisa Turpin later joins the D.A. too.
Inside the common room the domed ceiling glittered with an even deeper, more brilliant starfield than during the day. A fire crackled in the hearth, chasing away the evening chill of the Scottish Highlands.
Older students lounged on sofas reading or discussed complex magical theory in quiet groups. The air carried a calm, focused hunger for knowledge.
The first-years gathered on a large sky-blue rug, eager to share everything they'd seen and felt.
"Professor McGonagall is so cool!" Edgar Finch pushed up his glasses, eyes shining with admiration. "When she turned into a cat I thought I was seeing things! When do you think we'll learn Animagus transformation?"
"Dream on, Edgar," Casen Moretti drawled from an armchair, lazily tossing his golden Snitch model. "I heard there are only seven registered Animagi in the whole of Britain. We'll be lucky if we manage to turn a match into a needle."
"Speaking of needles," Padma turned to Julien, voice full of curiosity, "that hairpin you made in Transfiguration today was incredible! How did you even think of that? And Professor McGonagall actually kept it!"
Julien smiled and quietly explained the history of the Eastern hairpin needle. "The end could even be shaped like a phoenix feather." He sketched a quick diagram.
"Wow! That's beautiful," the girls sighed. "I'm definitely practising that—one for myself."
A boy named Michael Corner chimed in, "I thought Professor Snape was terrifying. I saw him in the corridor from a distance and the temperature dropped ten degrees. I heard he docked Harry Potter fifteen points this morning!"
"Yeah," another girl whispered. "He took loads of points from us too this afternoon. The Gryffindors said he only ever docks points from their house."
"No wonder Slytherin keeps winning the House Cup."
Everyone started talking at once—awed by the lessons, awed by the professors, curious about each other's special talents.
Light footsteps came down the spiral stairs. Cho Chang appeared carrying a steaming mug of hot chocolate, a gentle smile on her face.
"First day wiped you out, huh?" She set the mug in the middle of the rug and sat cross-legged. "I just got back from the library and heard you all having a meeting."
The first-years immediately quieted down and greeted the friendly older girl.
"Don't be nervous," Cho laughed, waving them off. "I just wanted to say that everyone's first day feels like this. I thought McGonagall was scary at first and Snape looked like he stepped out of a horror story. But you'll see—the magic of Hogwarts is that it gives you both challenges and wonderful surprises."
"Oh, and I overheard you talking about that Hufflepuff girl's natural magic."
"Yeah—in McGonagall's Transfiguration class. Liriya from Hufflepuff can change objects using natural magic. It was amazing."
"Actually she can't change their nature, so it's not really Transfiguration."
"But McGonagall still approved it."
"Cho," Julien asked, "why do you think Professor McGonagall was so lenient about Liriya's non-standard method?"
Cho thought for a moment. "I don't know exactly what McGonagall was thinking. But Ravenclaw respects every form of wisdom. Liriya's power comes from her bloodline and the land—it's a unique system of knowledge. It deserves to be studied, not dismissed."
Her words left the first-years thoughtful. Julien nodded, his opinion of Ravenclaw rising another notch.
"By the way," Cho lowered her voice, eyes sparkling with mischief, "I heard the kitchens are making a special dessert tonight—'Moonlight Pudding.' It only appears on new-moon nights. They say if you eat it you'll dream about the thing you want most."
"Really?" Several first-years perked up immediately.
"Absolutely," Cho winked. "But getting to the kitchens isn't easy. You have to find the fruit-bowl painting near the Hufflepuff common room and tickle the pear…"
She described the route in vivid detail. The first-years listened, spellbound, their earlier exhaustion forgotten. Julien watched the scene with a warm feeling in his chest.
There was no Gryffindor rowdiness here, no Slytherin scheming, no overwhelming Hufflepuff sweetness—just pure, honest curiosity and the joy of exploring the unknown.
"Senior, Cedric from Hufflepuff told you that, didn't he?"
"Oi! Watch it!"