The Red Lion's Lair and Starlight Whisper

The clamor of the opening feast gradually subsided, the warm scent of food in the Great Hall replaced by the faint waxy smell of burning candles. Older students yawned and drifted away from the tables in twos and threes. Lynn set down the last sugar-frosted lemon tart, feeling the steady warmth from the Star Stone, and his gaze naturally fell on Hermione beside him. She was carefully using the tip of her wand—which glowed with an extremely faint milky white light—to clean nonexistent pastry crumbs from the pages of A History of Magic, her expression so focused it seemed she was conducting a precise experiment, her bushy brown curls falling by her cheeks.

"First-years! Gryffindor first-years, gather over here!" A serious voice, brimming with a clear sense of responsibility, rang out. Percy Weasley, a gleaming Prefect Badge pinned to his chest, stood ramrod straight, waving his arm to beckon their group of red-and-gold fledglings.

Lynn and Hermione rose with the crowd. Hermione quickly stowed her wand and book, instinctively edging closer to Lynn. Beneath the excitement of the new environment, a trace of barely perceptible tension lingered. Lynn could feel the Moon White Stone at her chest transmitting a slight emotional flutter, like the beat of a butterfly's wings.

"Follow me, watch your step—the stairs like to play tricks!" Percy called out loudly, leading them through the still-bustling hall and into a wide stone corridor. Both sides of the corridor were lined with moving portraits, their inhabitants curiously eyeing the new students—some waved, some dozed, and others, dressed in medieval garb, argued heatedly within their frames.

Sure enough, no sooner had they set foot on the first broad flight of stone steps than the stairs, without warning, let out a crack. A large middle section abruptly flipped upward, turning into a smooth, steep slope! Several first-years at the front, caught off guard, cried out and stumbled backward.

"Watch out!" Lynn reacted swiftly. His left hand shot out to steady a round-faced boy (Neville) who was about to tumble down, while his right hand, with perfect naturalness, firmly caught Hermione's elbow. His movements were quick and precise, as if he had anticipated the stairs' mischief.

Hermione's body tensed instantly, then quickly relaxed at the warmth and strength of his hand. She looked up at Lynn, her face flushing slightly, and murmured, "Thanks." The Star Stone and Moon White Stone, separated only by their robes, resonated clearly, exchanging a sense of mutual reassurance.

"Hold the railing, stay alert!" Percy shouted from ahead, seemingly accustomed to such minor disruptions.

They climbed what felt like seven stories (encountering at least three moving staircases and one vanishing corridor along the way) before finally stopping at the end of a deserted hallway. There was no door, only a massive portrait. The frame was ornate, gilded with gold, depicting a plump lady in a splendid magenta velvet gown and an exaggerated feathered hat. She lounged in a comfortable armchair, holding a dozing ginger long-haired cat, with a typical English countryside scene in the background. Most striking was the enormous golden shield with an ornate lion's head relief hanging on the wall behind her.

"Password?" The lady in the portrait lazily lifted her eyelids, asking in a sing-song tone, while critically appraising the dusty group of first-years, her gaze lingering a moment longer on Lynn's composed face and the thick book Hermione clutched.

"Dragon's Breath Whiskey," Percy answered clearly.

"Oh, very well, lucky for you." The Fat Lady (as Lynn mentally named her) pursed her lips, seemingly unimpressed with the password, but her portrait frame emitted a soft click and, like a real door, swung silently inward, revealing a round, warm, brightly lit opening!

A wave of heat rolled out, carrying the scent of burning pine logs from a fireplace, old parchment, and wool carpets. Amidst the first-years' exclamations of wonder, a reassuring space, like a giant bird's nest, unfolded before them.

The Gryffindor Common Room! A vast, circular room with warm reddish-brown stone walls hung with scarlet tapestries and embroideries depicting famous Gryffindor adventures (the scenes animated—griffins soaring, knights swinging swords). Several brass chandeliers hung from the low ceiling, casting a soft glow. Scattered throughout the room were countless incredibly comfortable-looking, plump scarlet armchairs and sofas, clustered around several crackling fireplaces with leaping golden flames. A few wide tables, piled with books, parchment, and Wizard Chess sets, were placed here and there. Several tall, arched windows with stained glass were now covered by thick scarlet velvet curtains, presumably offering a view of the castle grounds or distant mountains during the day. The entire space exuded a cozy, lively, even slightly messy atmosphere, as if the very air pulsed with daring and courage.

"Welcome to Lionheart's Den," Percy said with a barely noticeable hint of pride. "This is the Gryffindor Common Room. The common area is open all day, but please keep quiet, especially after eleven. Boys' dormitories are up the left spiral staircase, girls' on the right. Your luggage should already be in your rooms. Remember, the Fat Lady guards the common room. The password changes weekly, and the new one will be pinned to the bulletin board," he said, pointing to a corkboard with parchment hanging near a fireplace. "Forget it, and you'll be sleeping in the corridor! Now, find your beds, and don't be late tomorrow!" He finished, straightened his back, and walked to a desk piled with papers, clearly ready to begin his Prefect "night duties."

The first-years immediately scattered excitedly, exploring their new home. Ron dragged Harry eagerly toward the left spiral stone staircase leading to the boys' dormitories. Neville stood a bit lost, clutching his toad, Trevor.

Hermione, however, didn't move right away. She stood in the warm glow, looking around the vibrant space, her large eyes sparkling with novelty and the comfort of finding a place to belong. She unconsciously moved a little closer to Lynn, her voice carrying a hint of dependence on the only familiar companion in a strange place: "It's... even better than the books described!"

"Indeed," Lynn nodded, his gaze sweeping over the comfortable sofas and the dancing firelight. "Very warm, very... lively." His eyes finally settled on Hermione's face, noticing a tiny speck of black soot from the fireplace on the tip of her nose.

Almost instinctively, he raised his hand and gently brushed the tip of her nose with the pad of his thumb.

The touch of his fingertip was warm and delicate. Hermione's body stiffened, her eyes widening like a startled fawn. Her cheeks flushed a shade deeper than the common room's tapestries at a visible speed. She even forgot to breathe, her long lashes fluttering rapidly, clearly feeling the faint electric current from the thin calluses on Lynn's fingertips brushing her skin, and the sudden, clear warmth from the Star Stone, like being toasted by a hearth fire.

"Ash," Lynn said calmly, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, withdrawing his hand, the delicate sensation still lingering on his fingertips.

"Oh... th... thanks," Hermione's voice was barely a whisper. Flustered, she lowered her head, her fingers unconsciously twisting the hem of her robe, her heart pounding like a drum in her chest. She felt as if the temperature of the entire common room had risen, and the noise of the other first-years seemed muffled, as if through a layer of water. The Moon White Stone at her chest grew slightly warm, clearly recording the tremor of this moment.

"You're welcome." Lynn watched her shy demeanor, a faint smile curving at the corner of his mouth. "Go find your dormitory. It should be upstairs."

"Mm!" Hermione nodded vigorously, as if granted a pardon. Clutching her book, she practically marched stiffly toward the right staircase leading to the girls' dormitories, her ears burning red. After a few steps, she couldn't help but glance back quickly at Lynn, still standing there. He was watching her, giving a slight nod, his gaze gentle. Hermione whipped her head back as if burned, walking even faster, but the corners of her mouth involuntarily curled into a sweet smile.

Lynn watched her disappear around the stairwell before turning and heading toward the left boys' spiral staircase. The stairs were ancient stone, spiraling upward, with burning torches set into the walls every few steps. He had barely taken a few steps when he heard Ron's loud voice from above:

"Harry! Look! Our luggage is really here! And... wow, this room is huge!"

The boys' dormitory was in a tower, a spacious circular room. The walls were the same warm reddish-brown, with five four-poster beds draped in deep red curtains arranged like petals around the center. Each bed had a nightstand and a small wardrobe. A vague star chart was painted on the high arched ceiling. Through the window, the deep purple night sky and the dark silhouette of the Forbidden Forest were clearly visible.

Harry and Ron's luggage was piled by two adjacent beds near the window, while Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas (the other two first-years) had theirs by the other two beds. By the last bed, near the door and in a relatively less "ideal" spot, sat Lynn's new trunk from Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions.

"Hey, Lynn! Over here!" Harry called out warmly when he saw Lynn enter, pointing to the bed by the door. "This one's yours."

"Thanks," Lynn said, walking over and nodding simply. Ron was excitedly bouncing on his own bed, testing the mattress's springiness. Seamus and Dean were arguing about Quidditch teams.

Lynn opened his trunk and took out his toiletries and pajamas (plain dark blue cotton, with no magical effects). His movements were unhurried, carrying a composure beyond his years. When his fingertips touched the cool cover of the Starry Notebook and the Star Pen with its tiny crack in the sapphire tip, he paused slightly. The chaotic energy backlash from the failed Astrology Compass experiment flashed through his mind, along with... the pure healing power of Hermione's moonlight wand. That gentle strength seemed to have imprinted itself more clearly on his heart than any profound magic.

"Lynn," Harry's voice interrupted his thoughts, filled with sincere gratitude, "thanks for catching Neville on the stairs earlier... and in the train compartment, what you said to that Malfoy was brilliant!" His green eyes were full of admiration.

"It was nothing," Lynn replied flatly, placing the notebook and pen on the nightstand.

"Exactly! Malfoy's such a git!" Ron jumped off the bed, waving his fists. "'What does your family do?' Pah! Lynn, your comeback about 'The End of the Star Trail' was perfect! You should've seen his face!" He mimicked Malfoy's stiff expression, making Harry, Seamus, and Dean all laugh.

The dormitory was filled with the excitement of boys away from home for the first time, buzzing with chatter. Lynn made his bed, changed into his pajamas, and leaned back against the headboard. Outside the window, Hogwarts' lights twinkled in the night like a fallen Milky Way, while the dark silhouette of the Forbidden Forest loomed like a crouching beast. The Star Stone, pressed against his chest, radiated a steady, reassuring warmth. He closed his eyes, but his mind involuntarily stretched out, as if it could penetrate the stone walls and sense the girl in the tower on the right, also adapting to her new environment.

In the girls' dormitory, Hermione had also changed into her pajamas (a light blue cotton dress printed with little owl patterns). She sat on her bed by the window, clutching the deep blue Starry Notebook tightly in her arms, her fingers unconsciously tracing the star patterns on the cover. Her roommates, Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown, were excitedly exchanging stories about their Diagon Alley shopping and speculating about the new professors.

But Hermione's mind had wandered. The tip of her nose still seemed to retain the gentle touch of Lynn's fingers, and her cheeks began to flush again. She quietly opened the notebook and, on a blank deep blue page, used her fingertip to lightly trace two words without any magical infusion, leaving no mark: Idiot. After writing, she felt it was too childish, closed the notebook in annoyance, and buried her burning face in the soft pillow. The Moon White Stone against her collarbone pulsed with a warm, strange rhythm, as if responding to the pull of another star.

The night deepened. The castle fell silent, only the wind moaning outside the tower. In the boys' dormitory, Ron had started snoring softly, and Harry was fast asleep. But Lynn opened his eyes. He sat up silently, picked up the Star Pen from his pillow. The Star Stone glowed faintly, providing a dim light. He turned to a new page in the notebook, the pen tip hovering above the paper. He didn't write, but instead concentrated, channeling the clear, warm concern that had surfaced after the noise faded—through the power of the Star Stone—gently into the pen tip.

On the deep blue paper, no words appeared. Instead, a patch of extremely soft, breathing-like, fine starlight quietly lit up. The starlight slowly gathered, flowed, and finally outlined an abstract yet vividly evocative silhouette—the profile of a girl holding a book, her hair slightly curled, standing quietly amidst the starlight.

At the same time, in the girls' dormitory, Hermione, clutching the Starry Notebook tightly to her chest, felt the slight furrow between her brows smooth out in her sleep. The Moon White Stone on her chest seemed to respond, emitting a similarly soft, almost imperceptible milky white glow, gently enveloping her, silently returning the clumsy but sincere goodnight greeting from "Beyond the Star Trail."

The light of the star and the moon, within the warm den of the lion, separated by ancient stone walls, wove a silent, sweet secret for Hogwarts' first night. Outside the window, deep in the Forbidden Forest, an owl seemed to skim the treetops, leaving behind a long, low call.