The Hogwarts Express sped through the embrace of the Scottish Highlands. Outside the windows, the scenery gradually shifted from the bustle of cities to rolling hills, dense forests, and deep valleys shrouded in mist. Inside the compartment, however, the atmosphere was not entirely harmonious.
Billius Black was a restless chatterbox. He excitedly shared amusing stories about Hogwarts that he had heard from his family, speculated endlessly about the coming Sorting Ceremony, and even pulled out a somewhat worn deck of cards to tell everyone's fortunes. Abraxas Malfoy, meanwhile, maintained a reserved elegance. Most of the time, he quietly read a leather-bound book, only occasionally joining the conversation. His words subtly displayed the knowledge and superiority of pure-blood families, while his gaze frequently drifted between Tom and Ares, carrying a shrewd appraisal.
Tom perfectly played the part of a humble-born yet exceptionally gifted and courteous first-year. He listened intently and, at the right moments, raised one or two questions that revealed he had already studied the textbooks, earning even a slight glance from Abraxas. He showed the proper respect for the Black family's "glorious history" and the Malfoy family's "ancient heritage," but Ares could see the cold calculations beneath that respectful exterior, along with an ambition that seemed to say, I could replace them.
When Billius tried to read Ares's fortune from tea leaves and exclaimed that he saw "intertwined light and shadow" and "a vessel shattered and made whole again," Tom's hand holding the teacup paused almost imperceptibly. A dim light flashed through the depths of his black eyes.
Ares was comparatively quiet. He humored Billius's boundless curiosity and answered Abraxas's subtly recruiting overtures with a polite but distant smile. Most of his attention was focused on sensing the increasingly dense magical aura beyond the window, as well as the faint resonance between the Eternal Cycle wand within him and this land. He could feel that the train was heading toward a focal point where magic gathered.
The sky gradually darkened, and a deep purple night began to blanket the earth. At last, the train slowly came to a stop at an unfamiliar little platform shrouded in twilight. A wooden sign on the platform read: Hogwarts Station.
"First-years! First-year students! This way!" A booming voice stood out sharply amid the noisy crowd.
Abraxas rose gracefully and gave Tom and Ares a slight nod. "Then I'll see you at the castle later. I wish you both a smooth Sorting." His gaze lingered on Tom for an extra moment, filled with appraisal and faint expectation.
Billius sprang up as well and patted Ares on the shoulder. "Don't forget my fortune! 'Intertwined light and shadow'—I bet you'll definitely be sorted into Gryffindor! Of course, I'll be waiting for you there too!" With that, he followed Abraxas out of the compartment and merged into the crowd of older students making their way expertly toward the waiting carriages on the platform.
Tom and Ares followed the other first-years, who looked both lost and excited, toward the source of the voice. It was an extraordinarily huge and burly man with a thick beard, holding an enormous lantern that cast a swaying halo of light. He stood at the edge of the platform like an iron tower, specifically tasked with guiding the new students.
[Identification: Lantern Man. Position: Current Hogwarts Keeper of the Grounds (not Rubeus Hagrid). Function: Guide new students across the Black Lake.]
Only when they drew closer did they truly feel how massive he was. He wore a thick moleskin coat and carried the scent of earth and night dew. He looked rough but dependable.
"Keep up, all of you! Watch your step, the path's a little slippery!" The Lantern Man's voice rumbled like muffled thunder as he waved his lantern, leading the line of first-years away from the platform and down a steep, narrow path.
Everything around them was pitch-black, lit only by the lantern's swaying circle of light and the scattered lights of Hogsmeade Village in the distance. The path twisted and turned, dense woods rising on both sides as the rustling of unknown creatures came from the darkness. The first-years nervously huddled closer together and whispered among themselves.
Tom pressed his lips tightly together as he walked silently beside Ares. His sharp gaze swept the darkness, as though assessing possible dangers and memorizing the route at the same time. Ares, meanwhile, could feel the magic around them becoming purer and stronger. The air was filled with the scent of lake water and the lingering charm of ancient magic.
"Duck!" the Lantern Man suddenly shouted.
Everyone lowered their heads as instructed and passed beneath a curtain of hanging vines. Then their view abruptly opened up.
They had arrived at the shore of a vast black lake. On the high slope across from them stood a towering castle, its spires rising one after another, countless windows glowing with flickering lights. Against the black lake and night sky, it looked like a mythical creation inlaid with stars. Its reflection fell upon the lake's mirror-black surface, rippling softly with the tiny waves and becoming even more mysterious and magnificent.
"No more than four to a boat!" the Lantern Man shouted, pointing at a row of small boats along the shore that resembled black shells.
The first-years let out a wave of suppressed gasps and surged toward the boats. Tom and Ares boarded the same one, and two other unfamiliar first-year boys climbed in as well.
The boat needed no oars. At the Lantern Man's deep cry of "Go," it began moving on its own, gliding steadily across the ink-black water in silence toward the dazzlingly radiant castle.
The lake was silent except for the faint sound of the bow cutting through the water. Everyone craned their heads upward, entranced by the castle drawing ever closer. Hogwarts. It was more than just a school; it was like a living legend, a land of dreams filled with limitless possibilities.
Tom watched quietly without speaking. The light and shadow cast by the castle flickered across his handsome face, while the brilliant lights reflected in his deep black eyes. That glow burned within them, no longer as simple longing but transformed into a deeper, firmer desire to possess. His hand resting on his knee tightened slightly. This would be the stage where he displayed his talent and seized power.
Ares sat opposite Tom, watching his profile, which looked like the sculpture of a god beneath the starlight and castle lights, before lowering his eyes to the mirror-black lake. In the water, the castle's reflection intertwined with the real stars, while his and Tom's reflections appeared faintly beneath them, as though foretelling something.
He felt the Blood Pact Mark beneath his left eye growing faintly warm, while the Eternal Cycle wand in his inner robe pocket gave off a steady resonance. Light and darkness, upon the Black Lake at this moment, between the castle's splendor and the lake's depths, had reached a strange balance.
The flotilla slowly sailed toward an entrance beneath the castle's shadow, a place that seemed to be a hidden dock. The Lantern Man was already waiting there, his enormous figure resembling a Patronus in the shadows of the rock wall.
"Welcome to Hogwarts, children." The Lantern Man's booming voice echoed between the rock walls, carrying a solemn sense of ceremony.
The boats gently reached the shore. The first-years disembarked one after another and gathered on the pebble-covered lakeside, gazing up at the enormous oak castle doors ahead. On the hillside road above them came the faint rumble of carriages and the laughter of older students in the distance—those students were entering the castle by another route.
The doors slowly opened. Warm, bright light spilled from within, along with the figure of a stern witch in emerald-green robes—Professor Minerva McGonagall, then a Transfiguration teaching assistant responsible for receiving the first-years.
Their true Hogwarts life lay beyond those doors.
Tom took a deep breath, adjusted his nonexistent collar, and was the first to step forward onto the stone stairs leading to the castle doors. His back was straight, his stride resolute, as though he was walking not toward a school, but toward the throne fate had destined for him.
Ares followed behind him, feeling his heart beat faster with anticipation and a trace of unease.
Stars above, the Black Lake below, and the castle ahead. Their Hogwarts chapter was about to be formally written. And the reflections in the lake seemed to foretell that beneath its calm surface lurked unknown undercurrents and monstrous beasts.
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