Flickering Candlelight and the Stars as Witness (Part 1)

The whistle of the Hogwarts Express still echoed through the night sky as the first-years surged like a tide toward the lakeside dock. Massive wooden boats, pulled by Thestrals—creatures resembling winged black horses visible only to those who had witnessed death, though to Lynn and Hermione's eyes they were merely empty harnesses—waited silently on the ink-black Black Lake. The water was deep, reflecting the brilliant Milky Way above and the glowing lights of the distant castle, mysterious and solemn.

"Four to a boat!" a voice boomed like thunder. Rubeus Hagrid, the half-giant whose height nearly scraped the low roof of the dock shelter, carried a huge lantern and cheerfully directed the newcomers. His thick beard glowed red in the lamplight, his smile warm and infectious.

Lynn, Hermione, Harry, and Ron naturally ended up in one boat. The small vessel swayed gently with the waves, carrying them slowly toward the castle that seemed like a fairy-tale dream. The closer they got, the more awe-inspiring its grandeur became. Towering spires pierced the deep purple night, thousands of windows spilled warm golden light, outlining countless peaks, arches, and flying buttresses. The hull brushed the water with a soft rustle, accentuating the surrounding silence, broken only by the first-years' gasps of wonder.

Hermione gripped the side of the boat tightly, her small face lit by the castle's glow, a mix of excitement and nervousness. She whispered passages from Hogwarts: A History about the castle's architecture, trying to calm her racing heart with familiar knowledge. Lynn sat beside her, feeling the steady warmth of the Star Stone, his gaze calm as it swept over the majestic stone walls and the stained-glass windows glowing with mysterious light, as if measuring the depth of this ancient magical fortress.

"So tall..." Ron craned his neck, nearly straining it. "I bet Filch the caretaker gets exhausted climbing the stairs every day."

"They say the stairs move by themselves," Hermione immediately replied, with a hint of "I know something you don't" pride. "And ghosts! The book says Hogwarts has lots of ghosts!"

Harry didn't seem interested in ghosts. He stared toward the tallest tower, his green eyes reflecting the lights, as if searching for something.

The boats finally reached a hidden underground dock. Led by Hagrid, the first-years climbed up a damp stone tunnel until they came to a massive oak door. Standing before it was a witch in emerald-green robes, her expression stern, her hair piled in a high bun—Professor Minerva McGonagall.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," McGonagall said, her voice clear and commanding. Her gaze swept over the excited and nervous first-years, pausing briefly on Lynn and Hermione with a slight nod. "The feast is about to begin, but before you take your seats, you must be sorted into your houses. The Sorting Ceremony is an important tradition. Your house will be your home at school, where you will study, live, earn honor, and possibly... lose points." Her last words carried a hint of warning.

"There are four houses: Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each has a glorious history and has produced outstanding witches and wizards. The Sorting will choose the most suitable house for you based on your traits." When McGonagall mentioned Slytherin, a faint trace of scrutiny flickered in her eyes.

She briefly introduced the four houses' symbolic animals and representative qualities—bravery, loyalty, wisdom, ambition—then instructed the first-years to tidy themselves: "Line up and follow me."

The massive oak door swung silently inward, revealing the Great Hall, blazing with light and buzzing with voices!

The sight was enough to take anyone's breath away. Four long house tables stood parallel, laden with gleaming golden plates and goblets. Thousands of candles floated in midair, illuminating the hall as bright as day, their warm light dancing on gilded walls and enormous tapestries depicting magical scenes. Most astonishing was the ceiling—not a stone vault, but transparent as glass, perfectly mirroring the brilliant starry sky outside! The Milky Way flowed, clouds drifted, deep and vast.

The older students were already seated, their eyes fixed on the new faces at the door—curious, appraising, friendly, or indifferent. The professors sat at the head table at the far end of the hall. In the center sat an old man with snow-white hair and a beard, wearing half-moon spectacles, his long silver beard and bright blue eyes gleaming with wisdom—Headmaster Albus Dumbledore. He smiled warmly at the first-years, his gaze gentle and accepting.

McGonagall guided the first-years to stand at the front of the hall, backs to the staff table, facing the student body. She placed a patched, battered, crooked old pointed hat on a stool.

Just as the first-years stared at the dirty hat in confusion, a slit opened along its brim, like a mouth! Then a loud, ancient, slightly off-key voice rang through the hall! The Sorting Hat began to sing its own composition about the four houses' traits and a new school year's message.

When the song ended, the hall erupted in applause. McGonagall stepped forward, unrolling a long parchment scroll: "When I call your name, come forward, put on the hat, sit on the stool, and await your sorting."

"Hannah Abbott!" A girl with two blonde braids and a round, rosy face ran up nervously. The hat barely touched her hair before it shouted, "Hufflepuff!"

The second table on the right burst into cheers and applause. Hannah ran over happily.

The Sorting proceeded smoothly. Susan Bones also went to Hufflepuff. Terry Boot was sorted into Ravenclaw. When "Draco Malfoy" was called, the pale blond boy strode up almost arrogantly. The hat barely grazed his immaculately styled hair before declaring, "Slytherin!" The silver-and-green table responded with restrained but loud applause. Malfoy smirked as he walked toward his new housemates, shooting a challenging glance at Harry and Ron.

Ron's face was pale with tension. He whispered to Harry, "If I don't get into Gryffindor, Mum will kill me..."

"Hermione Granger!" McGonagall's voice rang out.

Hermione's body stiffened visibly. She took a deep breath, her small fists clenched tight. She could feel everyone's eyes instantly on her. Lynn clearly saw her trembling shoulders and the flash of fear in her eyes. Just as she stepped forward, Lynn's hand at his side moved—his fingertips brushed hers, extremely lightly, quickly.

A warm, steady current surged through her fingertips into her heart! It was the power of the Star Stone! At the same time, the Moon White Stone at her chest seemed to awaken, sending a clear, soothing warmth that instantly dispelled her tension and unease. She shot a quick glance at Lynn, saw the silent encouragement and trust in his eyes, and felt filled with strength.

She straightened her back, her steps no longer hesitant. She walked forward and sat firmly on the stool. McGonagall placed the Sorting Hat over her bushy brown curls.

The hat nearly covered her eyes. A brief silence—only a few seconds, but it felt like an eternity to Hermione. She could feel the hat rifling through her mind, examining her memories and thoughts: mountains of books, an endless thirst for knowledge, helping Neville find his toad on the train, that strange sense of reliance on Lynn, and... deep inside, the courage ignited by Lynn, the desire to prove herself...

"Hmm..." the hat's ancient voice whispered in her mind. "A strong thirst for knowledge, clear logical thinking. Without a doubt, Ravenclaw would treasure such a brilliant mind..."

Hermione's heart leaped into her throat. Ravenclaw? Wisdom? She craved wisdom, of course... but...

"Wait..." the hat's voice carried a hint of amusement. "There's something else? Oh? A burning courage to protect? To protect books? No... to protect... something more precious? To prove your worth? To... live up to someone's trust?" The hat seemed to catch the fleeting image of Lynn's calm, encouraging face in her mind, and the strange warmth from their brief touch.

"Interesting... very interesting!" The hat's voice grew excited. "Such a strong thirst for knowledge, yet beneath it burns an equally fierce determination to fight for what you cherish! This courage isn't recklessness—it comes from knowledge and value! Then, the place best suited for you is..."

The hat took a deep breath (if a hat could breathe), and its loud voice rang through the hall:

"Gryffindor!"

The table closest to the staff table on the right erupted in thunderous cheers, applause, and whistles! Red-and-gold banners fluttered in the firelight. The twin brothers Fred and George Weasley blew loud whistles, while Percy Weasley offered a restrained smile.

Hermione yanked off the hat, her small face flushed with excitement and joy, her big eyes shining with disbelief and delight! She had done it! Gryffindor! She practically skipped toward the Gryffindor table, unable to resist glancing back at Lynn in the first-year line. He was smiling at her, nodding slightly.

Hermione sat down in the empty seat next to Percy, immediately surrounded by enthusiastic Gryffindors welcoming her. But her gaze kept following that figure in the first-year line.

The Sorting continued. Neville Longbottom, after the hat deliberated for nearly a minute, was sorted into Gryffindor—the hat seemed torn between his obsession with his toad and his desire for courage. He almost forgot to return the hat to McGonagall. Draco Malfoy let out a clear snicker from nearby.

"Harry Potter!" When that name was called, the entire hall fell into a strange silence. All conversation stopped, leaving only the crackle of candle flames. Countless eyes focused on the thin boy with round glasses and a lightning-shaped scar on his forehead.

Harry took a deep breath and stepped forward. The hat settled on his head, covering the scar. This time, the silence stretched longer. The hat seemed to be engaged in a fierce internal debate with him. Harry's brow furrowed, his lips moving soundlessly. The hall was so quiet you could hear a pin drop; everyone held their breath.

"Not Slytherin... not Slytherin..." Harry's mind echoed Hagrid's warning and Malfoy's arrogant face.

"Not Slytherin, eh?" the hat's voice sounded in his head, tinged with amusement. "You have courage, a good heart... and talent... oh my, so much talent... Slytherin could help you achieve greatness, no doubt..."

"Not Slytherin!" Harry shouted firmly in his mind.

"Sure?" the hat pressed. "Well then, since you insist..."

The hat finally announced loudly:

"Gryffindor!"

The Gryffindor table's cheers nearly lifted the magical ceiling! Harry pulled off the hat, his face breaking into a relieved, brilliant smile, and ran toward Hermione and Percy, where the excited Ron—next in line—and the twins clapped him hard on the back.

Ron's Sorting was almost a foregone conclusion; the hat barely touched his fiery red hair before shouting, "Gryffindor!" He let out a long sigh of relief and ran over to squeeze in with Harry and Hermione.

Finally, McGonagall called the last name:

"Lynn Li!"