Pansy stepped down from the carriage, catching the sound of croaking drifting from Wyzett's direction. She snorted, "Honestly, who still keeps a toad as a pet these days? Don't you think so, Draco?"
But Draco just watched Wyzett's retreating figure, ignoring her comment.
A moment later, another carriage rolled to a stop with a long, creaking groan. Goyle and Crabbe clambered out, looking a bit disheveled.
"They're here," Pansy reminded them. "We should get going."
"Yeah!" Draco replied, then suddenly asked, "What would you do if you lost something important?"
"Depends—where'd you drop it?" Goyle scratched his head. "I'd help you look, I guess?"
Crabbe let out a derisive snort. "You still don't get Draco, do you, Goyle? Why bother looking? Just buy a new one."
"Exactly, just buy another," Pansy agreed, chuckling. "Come on, Draco, let's go. The Start-of-Term Feast is about to begin."
Draco glanced at Goyle, then nodded. "Alright, let's go."
Just as he reached the main entrance, Wyzett spotted Neville pacing anxiously, hunched over and scanning the ground—clearly searching for something.
He wasn't alone. Hermione, Harry, and Ron were there too, all in similar poses, eyes darting around the entrance.
Whenever a student passed by, Neville would look up, wipe the sweat from his forehead, and ask, "Have you seen my toad? Dark brown, thirteen bumps on its back…"
Wyzett remembered every detail of Trevor's appearance.
"Neville, I found this little guy by the roadside and thought I'd bring him back to you." Wyzett stepped forward, handing over the toad he'd been carrying.
"Trevor!" Neville's face lit up as he cradled his pet in both hands. "Thank you so much! You're always the one who finds him for me."
The trio came over, and Hermione said, "Thank goodness nothing happened! Ron and Harry actually got here before we did."
Harry and Ron groaned in unison. "Don't even mention it… We really regret it now… Should've just flown the car to school…"
"You two!" Hermione's brows knit together. "Isn't it better this way? Flying a car to school—how dangerous would that have been!"
Wyzett studied their faces, noting the lingering anxiety. "What happened to you at school?" he asked, curiosity piqued.
"We were stuck in Snape's office…" Ron began.
"…from sunset all the way until just now," Harry finished.
Ron thumped his chest. "Thank Merlin Professor McGonagall remembered us and came to fetch us. Otherwise, we'd still be standing there, watching Snape feed worms to his mushrooms."
Harry ruffled his hair until it stuck up like a bird's nest. "If she hadn't come, I swear Snape would've made us eat whatever was in those jars…"
"Alright, enough!" Anthony cut in before they could complain any further. "The feast is about to start. Let's get inside!"
…
The group entered the Great Hall, and everything felt comfortingly familiar.
Thousands of candles floated beneath the enchanted ceiling, which shimmered with a brilliant tapestry of stars, the flickering candlelight mingling with the night sky.
The professors were all present. Snape sat at the far end of the staff table, face set in stone, eyes closed as if trying to recover from the ordeal of escorting Harry and Ron.
Wyzett glanced over to the Defense Against the Dark Arts seat—Gilderoy Lockhart was there now, chattering animatedly to Flitwick.
Flitwick looked less than thrilled, only nodding or murmuring a word now and then, clearly just humoring Lockhart's endless boasting.
But when Wyzett reached the Ravenclaw table, Flitwick's expression brightened. He smiled and waved, and Wyzett returned the gesture before taking his seat.
Lockhart noticed the exchange, pointed at Wyzett, and launched into a fresh round of flamboyant gestures and rapid-fire chatter.
Perhaps because Nicolas Flamel was a legendary alchemist, he was under powerful magical protection. All summer, Wyzett hadn't managed to contact Quirrell at all.
If he was right, the protection around Flamel's home likely included the Fidelius Charm. With that spell in place, unless the Secret-Keeper willingly revealed the address, no one could find the house—even if they walked straight into it.
…
Suddenly, someone called out, "They're here! The first years are coming!"
The doors swung open, and Professor McGonagall led a group of wide-eyed, nervous first years into the Hall.
Luna was among them, her gaze fixed on the enchanted ceiling. After a moment, she looked around dreamily, only breaking into a smile when her eyes met Wyzett's.
Professor McGonagall set out the stool and placed the Sorting Hat on top. The hat split open at the brim and, in a clear, resonant voice, began a brand-new song:
"In ancient halls of Hogwarts old,
Where magic hums in every stone,
Here courage, wit, and loyal hearts,
And dreams of power brightly shone.
I am the wise and ancient Hat,
So listen close and take your part—
Let my song guide your path,
And help you find your truest heart.
Brave as lions, Gryffindor,
Unyielding, bold, they charge ahead,
With courage as their guiding star,
And daring words as daily bread.
Sharp as eagles, Ravenclaw,
They soar through seas of endless lore,
Their clever minds and thirst for truth
Will open every hidden door.
Steadfast as the patient badger,
Hufflepuff's pure hearts endure,
With honest toil and loyal friends,
They build a happiness secure.
Cunning as the serpent's coil,
Slytherin's dreams reach ever higher,
Ambition forged in challenge's fire,
They write their legends in desire.
A new adventure now awaits—
Let Hogwarts' light your future grace,
Courage, wisdom, loyalty, ambition:
These will shield you in this place.
So don me now, don't hesitate,
And choose the path that you'll create!"
This year's Sorting Song was entirely new—perhaps the Hat, knowing its voice could never truly change fate, had poured all its energy into the lyrics instead.
As applause thundered through the Hall, the Sorting Hat dipped its pointed tip in a grand bow, signaling the official start of the ceremony.
One by one, students sat on the stool, and the Hat called out their houses in a ringing voice.
Colin Creevey, surname starting with C, barely had the Hat touch his head before being sorted into Gryffindor. In his excitement, he ran toward the Ravenclaw table—where Wyzett sat—before, red-faced, being redirected to the proper table by the other students.
Professor McGonagall scanned her list and called, "Luna Lovegood!"
Luna glided over to the stool, a curious smile on her lips, utterly untroubled by nerves. She greeted the Sorting Hat cheerfully before gently placing it on her head.
After a long pause, the Hat's voice rang out, delighted: "Ravenclaw!"
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