Discussion Among the Golden Trio

To completely dispel that lingering shadow, Ron decided to shift their attention to a more "shocking" topic.

He leaned mysteriously toward Harry, his gray-blue eyes gleaming as though he were sharing an earth-shattering secret. "Harry, I heard it from my brothers Fred and George—they're the best informed! The Sorting Ceremony isn't that simple! It's not some childish game of singing songs and reciting poems!"

He swallowed, seeming to brace himself. "They secretly told me you have to duel dragons! Really! They randomly pick one, from a Hungarian Horntail to a Chinese Fireball! You have to defeat it to prove you're qualified to enter Hogwarts!"

Harry was stunned by this sudden piece of "intelligence," even pausing mid-step.

Slaying dragons?

Dueling dragons?

At eleven?!

His mind instinctively began searching through the monster movies Uncle Dursley watched, then swiftly jumped to the military footage he occasionally glimpsed on the news—

Guns? Missiles? Fighter jets? No, wait... leaving aside whether creatures like "dragons" even existed in the Muggle world, even if they did, there was no way an eleven-year-old boy who had just escaped Privet Drive and had no money could get hold of any of those things!

Did wizards have to learn dragon-slaying spells at eleven? Wasn't that entrance requirement a little too high?

Seeing Harry's genuine shock and the hint of grave concern that had been led astray, Ron held back a laugh but could not resist continuing his "explanation." "Of course, I heard there are other tests too. Like picking out the thing you fear most from a pile of all sorts of magical creatures, then staring it in the eye for a whole minute without blinking! Or finding the real exit in a maze full of mirrors. They say those mirrors show your deepest fears!"

The more he spoke, the more animated he became, pouring out every absurd "Sorting legend" he had ever heard, as though that could offset the helplessness he had felt when facing Uchiha Madara.

As he spoke, Ron's gaze drifted involuntarily toward the front of the line—where a small cluster of well-dressed, composed pure-blood first-years had gathered together, murmuring among themselves and occasionally letting out restrained chuckles, utterly unlike the nervous excitement of most of the new students.

Draco Malfoy's conspicuous platinum head was among them. Though his nose still seemed unnaturally red and swollen, he had already regained his usual arrogant bearing.

Ron wrinkled his nose almost imperceptibly. Drawing his gaze back, he deliberately said to Harry in a careless tone, "But don't worry, Harry. No matter what tricks the Sorting Hat pulls, Malfoy'll be the first one finished! Just look at him—he couldn't even take one punch from you. He's all show and no substance, a complete idiot! Maybe once the Sorting Ceremony starts, he'll be so scared he wets himself, and then his two big stupid lackeys will carry him home in disgrace! Slytherin? As if he deserves it!"

Ron's "curse" carried childish malice and fervent hope, as though making the prediction would make it come true.

At the very front of the line, Hermione Granger was not taking part in Ron and Harry's hushed conversation.

She followed close beside Hagrid, who carried a lantern and trudged forward with heavy steps, nearly pressed against his enormous moleskin coat.

The pallor and terror from the train compartment had vanished from her face, replaced by taut, intense concentration.

"Hagrid," Hermione raised her head, trying to make her voice carry clearly to his ears over the surrounding noise,

"Besides Professor McGonagall and Headmaster Dumbledore, what other major professors are there at Hogwarts? Could you briefly tell me about their classes and... personality traits? I heard Professor Snape, who teaches Potions, is very strict. Defence Against the Dark Arts seems to be... rather unusual? And Professor Flitwick—are his Charms lessons really that wonderful?"

She spoke quickly and urgently, as if reciting a checklist. Every question had a clear purpose.

Her mind raced: Professor McGonagall appeared stern and fair, perhaps someone she could reason with; Headmaster Dumbledore was the ultimate target, but how could she ensure she caught his attention immediately? Professor Snape... was said to be difficult to get along with, but he had close ties to Slytherin and required caution; the head of Ravenclaw might have an academic interest in "abnormal magical phenomena"...

Hermione had already made up her mind. Once she had the chance, she would try to approach these professors under the pretext of an "academic discussion" or a "safety hazard report," especially Professor McGonagall and Headmaster Dumbledore, who seemed most likely to understand the gravity of the situation.

Before Uchiha Madara could establish himself at Hogwarts and cause an even greater impact, she had to make the school's leadership aware of his "danger."

Hagrid was somewhat overwhelmed by Hermione's barrage of questions. He responded with a string of ums and ahs, introducing them in his rough voice. "Oh, Professor Snape... yeah, he's pretty strict... Potions are important... Professor Quirrell? Nice enough, just a bit timid... Professor Flitwick? Used to be a dueling champion! Small fellow, but he's got plenty of skill..."

The line wound onward through the murky night, lit only by Hagrid's lantern and a cold crescent moon.

The Black Lake's inky waters spread out below the distant slope. Across the lake, the castle's lights shone like warm stars, guiding the way. Every new student's heart was filled with unease, anticipation, or fear for the coming Sorting Ceremony.

The silver gateway rippled like water, contracted, and finally dissolved into a few scattered sparks in the cold night wind. Once the faint spatial ripples caused by the teleportation settled, Uchiha Madara found himself in an environment completely different from the crude platform.

Beneath his feet lay a solid, level road of gray flagstones, meticulously paved and stretching ahead. The air carried the scent of damp earth and the crisp freshness of plants at midnight.

Not far away, the Black Lake's vast, inky surface glimmered with faint scattered light beneath the sparse stars and moon.

Across the lake, Hogwarts Castle stood in majestic silhouette. The warm firelight shining through its hundreds upon hundreds of windows adorned it like a brilliant maze suspended among the mountains of the night.

This was clearly a small, relatively secluded stone dock on the castle side of the Black Lake, rather than the chaotic pier where first-years traditionally came ashore.

The night wind swept across the lake, bringing heavier moisture and a deeper chill as it stirred Madara's robes and hair.

Behind him, Elliot Norton adjusted his breathing slightly. Even this strengthened, stable Portkey required a brief moment of adjustment after a precise short-range spatial crossing. Yet soon enough, his face resumed that proper, faintly ingratiating smile.

"Lord Madara, this way." Norton stepped half a pace forward, naturally taking on the role of guide.

Rather than using Lumos, the common lighting spell whose glow scattered too widely, he elegantly waved the ebony scepter in his hand—the cat's-eye gemstone at its tip having regained its warm luster—and softly recited a short syllable.

A gentle yet exceptionally bright orb of milky white light silently bloomed from the tip of the scepter. It hovered steadily several feet ahead of them, moving forward in sync with their steps.

The light clearly illuminated the texture of the flagstone road beneath their feet, the dew on the low shrubs beside it, and even the outlines of twisted trees at the edge of the distant Forbidden Forest. Yet, strangely, it did not overly disturb the creatures in the darkness, displaying the caster's superb control over magic.

"Our current location is a backup dock on the eastern side of the Black Lake. It is rarely used, and it takes about ten minutes on foot to reach the castle's main entrance." Norton led the way as he explained in a clear, steady voice that carried distinctly through the quiet night.

"We chose this place mainly to avoid encountering the incoming first-years by boat and reduce unnecessary... attention and trouble. Naturally, it also saves your valuable time."