With the sound of the puppet bursting through the ground, Allen and the others' unpleasant journey finally came to an end. Throughout the trip, for a variety of reasons, hardly anyone was willing to engage in conversation. If not for a few younger wizards on the Quidditch team, Allen feared that only Annie and himself would have had anyone to talk to.
As the puppet transformed once more into its miniature castle form, the young wizards aboard stood together for the first time since the journey began, now all uniformly dressed in their school robes. Internal tensions remained internal, none of them were willing to display discord in front of outsiders.
The moment the castle's gates opened, all the Hogwarts students took in a deep breath of the crisp, mountaintop air, before shifting their gazes downward.
Below lay an ocean of sky blue and berry red. The dense ranks of Ilvermorny students were lined up to greet their Hogwarts guests, or at least, that was what it was supposed to be. Whether their attitudes could be called "welcoming" was another matter entirely.
Ilvermorny sat atop Mount Greylock, and the miniature Hogwarts castle had surfaced on a slightly elevated grassy clearing. Though the puppet's emergence had clearly destroyed a good portion of the vegetation, what remained, a neatly trimmed stretch of grass just brushing the soles of their shoes, suggested the area had been carefully maintained.
Looking out across the open edge of the terrain, the gently curving mountain ridges stretched in graceful arcs. Allen even spotted a distinctly Muggle-style lighthouse, quite out of place in the magical world; evidently, this school was not as removed from the Muggle population as Hogwarts was.
The entire mountain was lush with vegetation, the variety of plants blocking Allen's view as he tried to see further. In the distance, forests cloaked in snow stood stark and bright, but to his surprise, the air around them did not feel like midwinter. If anything, it felt closer to autumn.
Curious about what caused this odd phenomenon, Allen looked up, and noticed that the entire sky was enclosed in a massive, bowl-shaped magical barrier. It reminded him of the enchanted ceiling in the Hogwarts Great Hall. Snowflakes drifted lazily above their heads, landing on the surface of the dome. But rather than accumulating, the snow simply slid gently down its smooth, curved surface.
Due to the mountain's elevation, the leaden clouds above seemed to press right down on the school. Though gray and heavy, under the glimmer of falling snow, the scene felt neither bleak nor lifeless, instead, it felt oddly full of vitality.
So why was Allen spending so much time observing the surroundings?
The answer was simple: the crowd of Ilvermorny students standing in clusters before them had shown not even a shred of warmth or welcome. Quite the opposite, in their lazy posture, impatient expressions, and muttered whispers, they clearly conveyed one message: Go away.
With the sole exception of the headmaster, a middle-aged man wearing a smile so sugary it made Allen nauseous, every person present radiated dissatisfaction with the entire exchange.
Amidst this thoroughly unfriendly atmosphere, both schools presented their crests, and the ceremonial exchange of gifts proceeded under the symbols of their institutions.
Ilvermorny's crest was a four-leaf clover set atop a ribbon, with each leaf bearing an image of a magical creature. As Allen strained to identify the beasts other than the Thunderbird and the Wampus cat, his gaze unintentionally shifted toward the exchanged gifts, and he froze.
A goblin-forged sword and a wand.
From any angle, they were completely inappropriate for a first meeting gift exchange.
Yet neither the Ilvermorny headmaster nor Professor McGonagall showed the slightest reaction. They remained perfectly composed, even as the tension among the students became palpable.
"Our honored guests from afar, you must be tired from your journey," the headmaster said with a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Come with me. Ilvermorny has prepared a feast of warm dishes and fine wine to help you recover from your travels."
For some reason, Allen's immediate reaction to the man's syrupy tone was a powerful urge to punch him in the face. He was certain, this was the most nauseating man he had ever met.
Unfortunately, etiquette, and the sheer number of Ilvermorny students surrounding them, made such a response impossible. Forcing down his disgust, Allen followed Professor McGonagall into the unfamiliar school with the other Hufflepuffs.
This castle was far less grand than Hogwarts. Its dome was made of simple glass, the great hall lacking in distinctive decor. But after witnessing the earlier magical dome, none of the students had much to say in criticism.
Likewise, likely due to pressure from their headmaster, the unfriendly Ilvermorny students showed only cold expressions, refraining from open mockery or snide remarks.
The procession continued in this awkward, tense silence.
That is, until Allen stepped onto the center of the hall floor.
The moment his foot touched the central tile, the entire strange stillness shattered.
Around the hall stood four wooden carvings, which Hogwarts students had assumed were purely decorative. Now, as Allen set foot on that central spot, the carvings suddenly stirred with a loud crackling sound.
Allen immediately drew his wand and yanked Annie behind him, scanning the area warily.
Everything about this exchange had felt off, there was no way he was going to trust his safety to others. What if something went wrong?
His quick reaction prompted the other Hogwarts students to draw their wands as well. Most of them were of age, and when danger loomed, a wizard's instinct was always to rely on their wand.
That, in turn, sparked a larger chain reaction. As the Hogwarts students drew their wands, the Ilvermorny students, who were still in their own school, their home turf, drew theirs in response.
The already hostile tension shot up to its peak. If anyone attacked first, it would erupt into a full-blown battle, no one should underestimate the combat ability of a group of handpicked young wizards.
"What are you doing?!" shouted two voices, one male, one female. Clearly, the heads of both schools had noticed the change in atmosphere.
Unfortunately, their words did little to shift attention away from the standoff.
In the midst of this stunned silence, the four wooden carvings around the hall seemed to come to life.
The horned serpent's head glowed with a radiant brilliance like a star. The Thunderbird beat its wings, stirring a fierce gust like a desert storm. The Wampus cat roared, thunder crashing in the air. And the final, unknown creature drew back its bowstring, its arrow's whistle slicing through the air, clearly audible even over the cat's howl.
What in Merlin's name was going on?
Allen and the other Hogwarts students were completely baffled. But the Ilvermorny students… looked on with admiration in their eyes.
Allen ignored them, because the Ilvermorny headmaster's gaze had also landed on him.
That expression, Allen couldn't help but think of a starving wolf stumbling upon a fresh deer carcass in the snow.
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