Karmit stared wide-eyed at Hogwarts towering before him.
Magic inscriptions—he could feel them. Ever since he began studying runes, he had developed a sense for them.
And now he could clearly tell that this place held many, some of them far more advanced than anything he had encountered.
As the boat touched the shore, his amazement only deepened.
There were patterns carved along the outer walls of the castle—decorations at first glance, but Karmit instantly recognized them as rune work.
Complex rune work. With his current level of study, he couldn't even understand how these runes were layered or interconnected.
As he expected, at least one of the four founders of Hogwarts must have been a master of magic inscriptions.
The only question was—who?
Hagrid led the awestruck students toward the castle doors. From a distance, Karmit spotted Professor McGonagall waiting there.
She wore a long robe, a pointed hat, and held a parchment scroll which she tapped lightly against the railing.
Her presence radiated one message: Do not approach.
Yes—McGonagall was as stern and intimidating as ever.
Hagrid greeted her, and she gave a curt nod. "Thank you, Hagrid. I'll take it from here. You may go to the Great Hall."
Hagrid nodded and, on his way out, winked at Harry. Harry couldn't help smiling.
McGonagall's sharp gaze swept over the gathered first-years. All chatter died instantly. Her aura alone silenced them.
She began, "Now then, welcome—"
But before she could finish, someone suddenly lunged past the group.
The figure dove at the steps in front of McGonagall and scooped up a toad.
"Trevor!"
Karmit's mouth twitched. Of course.
The iconic moment had arrived—Neville Longbottom, late but reliable as always.
After a brief silence, the group burst into laughter.
McGonagall looked at Neville helplessly. All the atmosphere she had built… ruined in an instant.
Neville raised his head timidly and scratched his hair. With that foolishly earnest expression, McGonagall couldn't bring herself to scold him.
She sighed.
"All right. Follow me into the Great Hall.
You are about to experience your most important ceremony at Hogwarts—the Sorting Ceremony, the beginning of your magical education."
The moment she said this, every student fell silent and tense.
One by one, the first-years drew their wands from their robes.
At the very back, Ron was nearly shaking. Why hasn't anyone suggested we drop out yet? I want to go home…
McGonagall noticed their reactions.
As she turned, Karmit caught a faint smile curling at her lips.
The rumor on the train had been impossible to hide—every professor already knew. Somehow, someone had spread a story that first-years had to fight a troll in order to be sorted.
It was obviously false, but every single first-year had believed it. The staff could only commend the creativity.
Well done, whoever started it.
...
Inside the Great Hall, Dumbledore glanced toward the entrance again and again.
He was eager to see Harry Potter—but even more eager to witness the moment the first-years discovered the truth.
Older students filled the hall with anticipation as well; this year's entertainment promised to be much livelier than usual.
Karmit looked at the group of terrified first-years gripping their wands like they expected battle.
He was confused.
What on earth had changed? Had his presence really caused this butterfly-effect chaos?
The instigators of the rumor had no idea it had spread this far.
That was the absurdity of it all.
Hermione, Draco, and Harry watched everyone drawing their wands. Their hearts tightened.
Hermione and Harry both thought the same thing:
So this is the wizarding world…? Everyone already knows what the Sorting is like—and they came prepared.
Draco, meanwhile, was already planning a furious letter to his mother, complaining that his father had never told him the truth about the ceremony.
Everyone else clearly knew already, and he had heard it only on the way here.
He felt cheated—left at a disadvantage.
With this bitter thought in mind, Draco drew his wand too.
Karmit swept his gaze across the group.
He could only hope they wouldn't faint when the truth came out.
McGonagall led the first-years to the entrance of the Great Hall. As the massive doors slowly opened, every heart tightened.
Someone in the back raised their wand toward the hall.
And like a chain reaction, all of them did. Dozens of trembling wands pointed toward the doorway.
Karmit almost burst out laughing.
The doors opened fully, revealing the brightly lit hall—and every older student inside erupted into laughter.
"Look at that! Did you see their faces?"
"Pfft—that boy's knees are shaking!"
"Hahaha, who spread that rumor? It scared them half to death!"
The first-years froze.
Where was the troll? Why were they laughing?
Dumbledore stood up and tapped his glass. "All right, all right. It seems someone played a small prank on our new students. Children, come in.
The Sorting Ceremony is not nearly as frightening as you were led to believe."
Understanding dawned instantly.
They had been tricked.
Every student turned to glare at their personal source of information—
one person staring at another, and another, until finally their eyes landed on the two boys who had spread the rumor.
Those two boys turned in unison and looked straight at Karmit. Hermione, Draco, and Harry all glared at him as well.
And just like that, every first-year present focused their gaze on Karmit.
Even someone used to storms and chaos felt a hint of embarrassment under that many accusing eyes.
__________
Upto 20 chapters ahead on patreon :-
patreon.com/Xorath