Chapter Text
FIRST YEAR - Settling in.
The platform is alive with noise and movement—students hugging their families goodbye, owls hooting from their cages, and the occasional burst of sparks from overenthusiastic wand-wavers.
You weave your way through the crowd, dragging your trunk behind you, and step onto the Hogwarts Express. The air inside is thick with chatter, compartments packed with first-years buzzing with excitement and older students catching up after the summer.
Finding a seat proves harder than expected. Nearly every compartment is full, and the ones that aren’t seem to have formed their own unspoken cliques already.
Eventually, you spot one that isn’t completely crammed—just four boys, sprawled across the seats, deep in conversation. You hesitate for only a moment before sliding open the door.
“Mind if I sit here?” you ask, trying to sound casual.
The boys glance at you, then at each other. One of them—messy dark hair, glasses—leans back slightly, clearly considering. Another, with neat brown hair and a slightly more polite expression, opens his mouth as if to say something, but before he can, the smallest of the group pipes up.
“Sorry, no room,” he says quickly.
You blink. There is room. Not loads, but definitely enough for one more. You glance at the seats again, then back at them, raising an eyebrow. They don’t budge. The dark-haired one with the glasses smirks slightly, as if waiting for you to argue.
You don’t bother. Rolling your eyes, you mutter, “Right. Fine,” and slide the door shut with a little more force than necessary.
Typical. First day and already off to a bad start.
Frustrated, you push on down the corridor, peering into compartments as you go. Most are even fuller than before, but finally, you spot a tiny sliver of space in one near the end of the carriage.
There’s a girl with vivid red hair sitting by the window, her nose buried in a thick textbook. The other seats are taken, but there’s just enough room to squeeze in if no one minds.
You knock lightly before sliding the door open. “Alright if I sit here?”
The red-haired girl looks up, blinking as if pulled from deep concentration. She takes in the full compartment, then shifts slightly to make room. “Yeah, go on,” she says, giving you a small smile.
Grateful, you heave your trunk into the overhead rack and drop into the seat beside her. For a moment, neither of you speak—she’s still absorbed in her book, and you take the chance to glance at the title. The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1.
“Bit of light reading?” you say, nodding at it.
She grins. “Something like that. Just wanted to get a head start,”
“Lucky you,” you reply. “I’ve barely even looked at mine,”
The girl laughs, tucking a strand of red hair behind her ear. “I was just curious, really. I’ve been trying some of the wand movements at home, but obviously, nothing happens. My sister—“ She hesitates for half a second before continuing. “She’s not a witch, so she thinks I look ridiculous waving my wand around at empty air,”
You nod. “At least you’ve got the motions down. I still feel like I’m going to snap mine in half by accident,”
She laughs again. “Yeah, I keep checking mine’s still in one piece. I practised holding it so much over the summer I thought I’d wear it out before term even started,”
You smile, settling into your seat. Talking to her already feels easier than trying to force your way into a conversation with anyone else on the train. “So, are you Muggle-born, then?”
She nods. “Yeah. I only found out about all this last year, and it still feels… strange, I guess? But exciting. I just hope I don’t mess everything up,”
“You probably won’t. And if you do, at least you’ll have company. I reckon half the first-years are going to end up turning teapots into frogs by accident or something,”
Lily grins. “At least that would be impressive. I’m more worried about setting something on fire,”
“You and me both,” you say.
The train continues rattling along the tracks, the countryside rolling past the window in a blur of green. The chatter in the compartment swells and fades as conversations shift, but you and Lily keep talking.
It’s mostly about Hogwarts—what subjects you’re most excited for, which house you think you’ll end up in, whether the moving staircases are real or just a myth.
“I don’t really mind which house I’m in,” Lily says after a while, tapping her fingers idly on the cover of her book. “They all sound interesting in different ways,”
You nod. “Yeah. I just hope I don’t end up somewhere awful. Imagine getting stuck in the one house where everyone’s horrible,”
Lily wrinkles her nose. “That’d be the worst,” She pauses. “Do you have family that went to Hogwarts?”
“Yeah, a few,” you admit. “They keep telling me it’ll be the best years of my life, which is a lot of pressure, honestly,”
She grins. “I suppose we’ll find out soon enough,”
Before long, the train begins to slow, and the hum of conversation shifts as people start shuffling into their robes.
The compartment is suddenly full of movement—trunks being pulled down, nervous chatter about the Sorting Ceremony, the occasional lost toad being retrieved from beneath seats. You and Lily exchange a glance, the weight of what’s coming finally sinking in.
“Ready?” she asks.
“Not even slightly,” you admit.
She laughs. “Same. But I suppose it’s too late to turn back now,”
The train pulls to a stop, and the doors slide open. The night air is cool as you step onto the platform, taking in the towering figure of a man calling for first-years to follow him. The castle looms in the distance, its windows glowing against the dark sky.
Whatever happens next, it’s officially begun.
—
The excitement of arriving at Hogwarts is quickly overshadowed by the nerve-wracking experience of the Sorting Ceremony.
The Great Hall is a blur of candlelight, floating above the four long tables where the older students are already seated. The air is thick with anticipation, and the chatter of the first-years falls to a nervous hush. Above, the enchanted ceiling reflects the sky outside, dark and starry.
As the ceremony begins, one by one, students step forward to place the Sorting Hat on their heads.
You watch each person ahead of you, some eager, others visibly trembling. The Hat mutters something as it’s placed on their heads, then announces their house with a flourish.
Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, Slytherin—the names echo in the hall, each one met with cheers and applause from the appropriate table.
Finally, the moment arrives. Your name is called, and your heart skips a beat. You make your way down the aisle, the eyes of hundreds of students on you, each of them silently judging or sizing you up.
You climb the steps to the platform, trying to ignore the way your knees feel like jelly. The Sorting Hat is waiting for you, perched on a stool.
You sit down, and it is placed gently on your head. The cool fabric brushes against your forehead, and for a moment, there’s nothing but silence. Then the Hat speaks, its voice low and murmuring in your ear.
“Ah, I see... courage, certainly. And a desire to prove yourself... but a touch of caution too. You’re not afraid of a challenge, though, are you? I can sense a bit of ambition lurking in there, just under the surface...”
The Hat seems to deliberate, shifting slightly as it considers you. You can feel it probing your thoughts, weighing the choices. It’s as though your very soul is being laid bare, and the pressure of it almost makes you want to squirm.
“Hmm, yes... definitely brave, but with a clever streak. Yes, yes, I know where you belong...”
Please just say it already, you think desperately, trying to steady your breath.
The Sorting Hat finally calls out, “Gryffindor!”
Relief washes over you, and the sudden, overwhelming weight of your nerves lifts. You stand, giving a small smile to the cheers from the Gryffindor table. You know, deep down, that it was the right choice for you. The bravery, the will to stand up for what’s right—it makes sense.
But as you make your way to the table, your eyes flicker over to the group of four boys who had claimed there was no room for you on the train. They’re already sitting together, grinning broadly, clapping each other on the back as they welcome the new arrivals.
You catch their eyes as you sit down, and for a moment, they stare at you like they’re half-sure they’ve seen you before. Then one of them, the one with messy black hair and glasses, smirks and gives a half-hearted wave.
Great. Just my luck.
You roll your eyes, disgruntlement tugging at the corners of your mouth until you’re frowning. The boys are all in Gryffindor too. Of course they are.
The rest of the Sorting Ceremony passes in a blur. You hear the names of other students being called, but your focus is pulled back to the group as they laugh and joke amongst themselves.
Despite your earlier annoyance, you feel a twinge of curiosity about them. You wonder if they’ll always be this rowdy, or if it’s just first-year excitement.
Lily, sitting beside you, is grinning. “Well, we’re in the same house,” she says, nudging you lightly. “At least we’ll be able to stick together,”
You nod, feeling your earlier annoyance about the boys from the train fade. It’s not like you have much choice, anyway. But then again, it’s not the worst thing. Maybe there are worse things than being surrounded by a bunch of rowdy Gryffindors.
When the Sorting is finally over, the Headmaster stands, his voice booming through the hall. “Welcome, students, to another year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Before we begin the feast, a few words—“ But the rest of his speech is drowned out by the mouthwatering smells of the food that suddenly appears on the tables.
The chatter picks up again, the tension from the Sorting easing as everyone eagerly grabs at their plates.
You’re too busy eyeing the vast spread of food before you to hear much of the rest of the speech, but you’re vaguely aware of the boys throwing a few half-hearted jests around the table, already in full swing.
—
The rest of your first year at Hogwarts passes in a blur, the excitement of arrival quickly replaced by the everyday hustle and bustle of student life.
At first, it’s overwhelming—everywhere you turn, something is new, something is strange. The moving staircases seem to change direction just when you think you know where you’re going, and the enchanted ceiling in the Great Hall never stops being fascinating, no matter how many times you see it.
It takes time to get used to the constant hum of magic in the air, the eerie whispers of ghosts, and the strange ticking of clocks that seem to come from nowhere. And don’t even get started on the sheer number of subjects you have to juggle.
In the beginning, it feels like every lesson is a battle—Professor McGonagall’s Transfiguration lessons are a challenge, with all the wand flicking and concentration required, and you can’t seem to make heads or tails of the theory behind Charms. But slowly, everything starts to fall into place. You manage to keep up, and your confidence grows.
Friendships begin to form naturally. Your dorm mates, Marlene and Dorcas (along with Lily), are both easy to get along with, though they couldn’t be more different.
Marlene is loud, confident, and a bit of a daredevil, always getting you into minor trouble when she dares you to climb a tree in the middle of the night or sneak a peek into the Forbidden Forest.
Dorcas, on the other hand, is quieter and more thoughtful. She’s often seen with a book in hand, but she has an infectious laugh and a dry wit that makes you feel at ease around her. Both are easy to talk to, and by the end of the first few weeks, you all fall into a comfortable rhythm.
Your room, though small, is cozy. There’s a large window that overlooks the grounds, and at night, when the stars are visible, it’s easy to feel like you’re part of something bigger. You and Marlene have become particularly close, while Dorcas is often found deep in conversation with Lily, especially when the two of them start discussing spells and charms that they’ve been experimenting with.
The common room becomes a safe space for study sessions, late-night gossip, and the occasional nap.
Unfortunately, you also become all too familiar with the Gryffindor boys. You can’t seem to escape them—whether it’s Sirius Black’s voice echoing through the corridors as he cracks jokes, or James Potter’s comments about other students that walk by, they’re everywhere.
While they’re certainly fun to watch, and you do start to find their antics amusing in the end, you can’t shake the feeling that they’re never really serious about anything.
—
It’s in your first Potions lesson that you meet Severus Snape.
Professor Slughorn, who is strangely enthusiastic about everything, divides the class into groups of three, and you, Lily, and Severus end up paired together.
At first glance, Severus is a bit odd—he’s quiet, almost brooding, and his sharp, pale face seems like it belongs to someone much older. He doesn’t seem to mind being in the same group as you and Lily, but he also doesn’t offer much in the way of conversation. Instead, he focuses on the task at hand, muttering under his breath as he carefully measures ingredients.
But despite his aloofness, you find that you get along decently well. He’s not rude, just... reserved, and he’s clearly very good at Potions. When you and Lily struggle to get the potion just right, he offers a quiet suggestion or two, and the two of you exchange surprised looks when it works.
“You’re good at this,” you remark as the potion finally takes on the proper colour, a soft greenish hue that bubbles gently.
He looks at you, his dark eyes almost piercing. “I’ve been brewing since I was a kid,”
Lily glances up from her cauldron. “Really? That’s cool,”
He doesn’t answer her question directly but gives a small, almost imperceptible shrug. “I don’t have much else to do,” His tone is distant, and you sense there’s more to the answer, but you don’t press.
Despite his oddities, there’s something in Severus you can relate to—perhaps it’s the feeling of being an outsider, the awkwardness of trying to fit in while everyone else seems so confident. Still, you can’t help but feel that there’s a lot more lurking beneath the surface, and you find yourself wondering what makes him tick.
After that first Potions lesson, you, Lily, and Severus share a few more classes together—though it’s not like you’re all best friends. Severus stays to himself for the most part, but he’s never openly hostile, and you find that you can work together when needed. He has a strange intensity about him, but for the most part, you leave it at that.
As the year goes on, you find that your time at Hogwarts isn’t quite as eventful as you might have imagined. There are no dramatic moments, no life-changing revelations—just the slow, steady pace of school life. Yet, in a way, that’s comforting. There’s a certain rhythm to everything.
Hogwarts, for now, is just Hogwarts—a school that now served as your new home.