If not atop Jade Mountain, then beneath the moon at the Jade Terrace we would meet.
The Poet Immortal's verse had originally described a peerless beauty, yet when Tris saw Hogwarts Castle on the hilltop, he could not help recalling those lines.
The shock of seeing something dreamlike become real was impossible to put into words. Even though Tris was hardly a devoted Harry Potter fan, at that moment, the hairs on his back stood on end, as though his very soul were trembling.
"Hogwarts..." Tris murmured.
"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Harry said beside him.
He shared a boat with Harry, Ron, and Hagrid.
Hearing Harry's words, Hagrid broke into a broad grin. "Yeah, Hogwarts Castle is a beauty. Every time I see it, I can't help marveling."
The little boat rounded the cliff and landed on the other side. Hagrid then led the forty-one young witches and wizards up the steps along the hillside to the castle gates.
The towering oak doors were more than large enough for even a real giant to pass through, imposing and grand, with an air of ancient splendor.
The children exclaimed in wonder once again.
Once inside the castle, they stopped before the stairs in the Entrance Hall. Above them stood Professor McGonagall, wearing emerald-green robes in a traditional style, her black hair gathered into an equally elegant, old-fashioned bun.
She looked a little different from the Professor McGonagall Tris remembered.
Judging by her face alone, Professor McGonagall did not look old. Had someone said she was only in her thirties or forties, Tris would not have found it strange.
Her makeup and clothing made her seem somewhat older. Most important of all, though, were her eyes.
Professor McGonagall had remarkably quiet eyes.
"Quiet" might not have been quite the right word to describe eyes, yet whenever he looked into hers, it was the word that sprang unbidden to mind.
After briefly explaining the upcoming sorting ceremony, house points, and the House Cup, Professor McGonagall surveyed them once more.
"The sorting ceremony will take place shortly, before the entire staff and student body. I suggest you tidy yourselves up beforehand so that you look presentable. In the meantime, remain quiet. I will return to fetch you."
With that, she turned and left without waiting for any response from the children.
"The deputy headmistress is so stern," Harry whispered.
Having read his acceptance letter, he naturally remembered the deputy headmistress's name.
"I'm more worried about what the sorting ceremony will be like." Ron's eyes darted about, hoping to find someone who could tell him exactly how it worked.
Then he saw several girls actually pull out little mirrors and start applying makeup.
"What are they doing?" Ron asked, puzzled.
He had never seen anything like it.
At the Burrow, Molly hardly ever wore makeup. Even on the rare occasions when she did, she never applied it in front of the children. Ginny was still young, and although she liked looking pretty, she had yet to learn how to use makeup.
"Have you never seen anyone put on makeup?" Hermione glanced at Ron, apparently disdainful that he did not even recognize that.
"I... I... I really haven't." Ron stiffened his neck and stammered twice before finally having to admit that he truly had never seen it.
"It's when women put things on their faces to make themselves look a bit prettier than usual." Ron might never have seen it, but Harry had.
Although Aunt Petunia seldom wore much makeup, she would spruce herself up when she went out or had guests over. At school, he had also seen some precocious little girls wearing it.
"Oh, right." Ron nodded and looked at Hermione. "Then why aren't you putting any on?"
"People with inner strength don't need to adorn their appearance," Hermione declared proudly.
"You just don't know how, do you?" Ron had not caught on, but Harry curled his lip dismissively. Although they had grown fairly familiar with one another during the journey, he still disliked the arrogance that seemed ingrained in Hermione.
"I simply can't be bothered to learn!" Hermione's little face flushed slightly.
Tris could see what was going on. Hermione might genuinely have had no interest in makeup and therefore never learned, but it was also true that she did not know how to apply it.
Their little exchange attracted no attention from the others, many of whom were still whispering among themselves. Tris noticed Draco sneaking looks their way from the other side. He was clearly still very concerned with what Harry was doing.
The moment he noticed Tris watching him, Draco put on a fierce expression.
He looked like a puppy trying desperately to seem vicious.
Tris could not hold back a laugh, leaving Draco flushed with embarrassment and anger.
Before Draco could do anything, however, a sudden commotion swept through the crowd.
A group of ghosts came through the wall.
Tris knew very little about the ghosts at Hogwarts. The first film had only briefly mentioned a few of their names. After that, there had only been Nearly Headless Nick getting petrified by the basilisk in the second film, and the storyline involving Ravenclaw's female ghost in the final one.
These ghosts seemed to be discussing another ghost named Peeves.
When they noticed the new students gathered there, the ghosts seemed very interested, and one even struck up a conversation.
"What are those?" Harry whispered to Tris beside him.
Before Tris could answer, however, Professor McGonagall returned.
The children, who had become rather restless because of the ghosts, quickly fell silent and followed Professor McGonagall into the Great Hall.
Almost every child was captivated by the enormous Great Hall and its extraordinary ceiling, and Tris was no exception. Seeing it in a film was one thing; seeing it with his own eyes was quite another.
Professor McGonagall briefly explained the procedure for the sorting ceremony, and quite a few of the children developed peculiar expressions.
"So all we have to do is put on this hat!" Ron said through gritted teeth. "I'm going to kill Fred and George. They made it sound like we'd have to fight a troll."
There was no shortage of similar muttering.
Wizarding families might not all have a whole brood of children like the Weasley family, but two or three children were very common. After all, the wizarding world lacked nightlife, and there was not much to do in the evenings...
With virtually no pressure involved in meeting their basic living needs, many wizarding families had more than one child.
And clearly, quite a few of these children had been taken in by their older siblings.
"Silence!" Professor McGonagall called. A parchment scroll had appeared in her hand. "When I call your name, put on the hat and sit on the stool... Hannah Abbott."
The Iron-Hat Prince was sorted into Hufflepuff without any surprises, and the sorting ceremony officially began.
Every time a new student was assigned to a house, a burst of cheering followed.
Tris watched, quietly analyzing the character of each house.
Gryffindor and Slytherin cheered the loudest, with the former being a little more boisterous. From Tris's observations, though, that was mainly because his two lunatic brothers, Fred and George, were over there.
The two of them were jumping about, making an incredible racket.
The fact that Slytherin was so lively came as a slight surprise to Tris. He had assumed Slytherin would be more gloomy. Thinking about it now, that had been rather presumptuous. After all, even the oldest of them were only sixteen or seventeen.
People like Voldemort or Snape, gloomy and prematurely mature from childhood, were probably a minority after all.
Thinking of Snape, Tris could not help looking up at the staff table.
Some professors were easy to recognize by their appearance, such as Dumbledore and Professor Flitwick, while others were harder to identify.
Snape was also fairly easy to recognize. He sat at one end of the staff table, his pale face slightly sallow and his hair greasy, as though it had not been washed in ages. He fit Tris's stereotype of a shut-in potion brewer perfectly.
Beside him sat a young man wearing a large turban, presumably Quirrell, the first year's boss.
Tris suddenly felt an urge. What would happen if I rushed up there right now and pulled off Quirrell's turban?
Still, he restrained himself.
It was not that he worried about changing the plot. He was mainly afraid of failing to finish Voldemort off and ending up on his radar instead.
Another person who caught his attention was a chestnut-haired female professor at the opposite end of the staff table, as far from Snape and Quirrell as possible. The reason was simple: she was beautiful!
With looks like hers, she could easily have made a place for herself in film and television.
Hogwarts actually had such a beautiful professor on its staff?
While Tris was studying the Hogwarts faculty, the sorting ceremony had already reached its halfway point.
Professor McGonagall called Hermione's name.
The little girl looked very nervous. She took a deep breath, walked briskly forward, and sat on the tall stool.
The Sorting Hat seemed to hesitate, taking a long time to reach a decision.
"Where do you think she'll go?" Harry whispered.
"Ravenclaw, maybe?" Ron said after a moment's thought. "She seems like the sort who's really good at studying."
Harry considered it, then nodded in agreement.
Just then, however, the Sorting Hat suddenly shouted, "Gryffindor!"
"How?" Ron looked stunned. "Someone like her-how did she get Gryffindor instead of Ravenclaw?"
"What, have you forgotten our third-oldest brother?" Tris asked in amusement.
"Hmm... fair enough." Ron thought about it and nodded, although he did not seem particularly willing to admit it.
As more and more students were called, Harry and Ron grew increasingly nervous. After Neville was sorted into Gryffindor, however, their nerves eased a little.
If even Neville could get into Gryffindor, what did they have to be afraid of?
It would have sounded unkind spoken aloud, but that was what both of them genuinely thought at that moment.
Draco went to Slytherin without any surprises, while the Patil Sisters were sorted into Gryffindor and Ravenclaw respectively.
"Twins can get sorted into different houses?" Ron sounded surprised, then glanced at Tris beside him. Tris shrugged. He did remember the sisters-Harry and Ron's dance partners in the fourth film.
Until now, though, Tris really had not known which houses they belonged to.
When Potter was sorted into Gryffindor, the Gryffindor table erupted into the loudest cheers yet. Fred and George even leaped onto the table and danced.
"How did we end up with brothers like that?" Ron looked at Fred and George wiggling their bottoms on the table, his face full of disdain.
"Don't say anything. Pretend we don't know them." Tris also kept his gaze fixed straight ahead.
After Lisa Turpin was sorted into Ravenclaw, only three new students remained unsorted.
Ron, Tris, and a Black boy with an arrogant expression.
"Ron Weasley," Professor McGonagall called.
"Whew!" Ron exhaled and walked forward on slightly unsteady legs. Before the hat had even settled properly on his head, it shouted Gryffindor.
Tris could clearly see Ron visibly relax.
"Tris Weasley!" Professor McGonagall called.
At that moment, Tris, who had thought he would not be nervous at all, found even his calves trembling slightly.
"Tris, we're waiting for you!" At the Gryffindor table, Fred had one arm wrapped around the neck of a decidedly unwilling Ron and was waving vigorously at Tris with the other.
Tris was rather speechless.
Right, what the hell was he nervous about? Where else could a Weasley go? Gryffindor, of course.
Sitting on the tall stool, Tris glanced at the Sorting Hat in Professor McGonagall's hand.
Ugh, it was filthy!
A moment later, the hat was placed on his head.
He would have to give his hair a good wash later.
He wondered what the bathrooms at Hogwarts were like.
Such were the thoughts running through Tris's mind.
Yet the cry of Gryffindor he had expected never came.