Take That Hand

The three of them were jostled along by the crowd, pouring outward, until they finally arrived at a dark, cramped platform. Then a rough, booming voice shouted:

"First years! First years, over here! Harry, over here-how are you?"

A look of delighted surprise spread across Harry's face. He lowered his voice to introduce the two beside him:

"Hagrid! That's Hagrid, Hogwarts' gamekeeper and Keeper of Keys-he's a really good person!"

With that, he pulled the two of them forward through the crowd.

Under the dim light, Zhang Xiao also laid eyes on this big fellow with giant blood. He stood over three meters tall; Zhang Xiao barely reached his thigh. He wore an oversized coat made from the hide of some unidentified animal, had a wild, bushy beard, and the lantern in his hand was nearly half a person tall.

Hagrid winked at Harry, then bellowed again:

"Come on, follow me-any more first years? Watch your step! Right then-first years, follow me!"

Zhang Xiao followed the crowd, stumbling along a narrow path over the wet, slippery ground. First years had to go to the docks and take small boats across to Hogwarts; second years didn't-they could ride carriages over in comfort. He had no idea who came up with such a strange rule.

They rounded a bend, and a black lake suddenly appeared before them. Everyone around him gasped in unison. Across the lake, on a high hillside, stood a towering castle, its spires clustered thick, windows flickering under the starry sky.

This was Hogwarts!

Zhang Xiao stared fixedly at the castle, his heart brimming with indescribable excitement. Harry tugged at him and said quickly:

"Zhang, we're getting on the boats."

Zhang Xiao tore his gaze away. The three of them boarded a small boat, and an unknown young wizard climbed in after them. Hagrid confirmed once more that everyone was aboard, then shouted: "Set off!"

The boat gave a gentle shudder and, with no one rowing, glided silently across the mirror-flat lake.

Everyone fell silent, gazing at the enormous castle soaring into the clouds.

He had to admit, the scenes in "Hogwarts Legacy" were recreated quite faithfully. Zhang Xiao watched quietly as they drew near the cliff face, passed through the ivy curtains covering the front of the crag, and arrived at a hidden, open entrance.

He compared it in his mind to the game scenes he knew so well-not identical, but practically the same. It made him mutter inwardly: was this world the world of the books, or a world of its own?

But there was no time to ponder. The boat was nearly at its destination.

In the game, there was something like an underground dock here, with an elevator leading straight to the entrance of the Great Hall.

The young wizards followed Hagrid up a flight of stone steps and gathered before a huge oak door. He reached out and knocked. The door swung open at once, and a tall, black-haired witch in emerald-green robes stood before them-Professor McGonagall.

Harry whispered:

"She looks really strict."

Ron nodded in agreement. His face had grown paler still, and he was so nervous he was trembling slightly.

"The first years, Professor McGonagall," said Hagrid.

"Thank you, Hagrid. I'll take them from here."

She pulled the door wide open. The Entrance Hall was large enough to hold all the first-year wizards.

Torches blazed around the stone walls, and the ceiling was so high you could barely see the top. Directly ahead was a huge Hogwarts crest, and to either side were grand marble staircases leading up.

They followed Professor McGonagall across the flagstone floor to a small, empty chamber at the other end of the hall. Everyone crowded in, packed shoulder to shoulder, nervously taking in their surroundings.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," said Professor McGonagall. "The start-of-term banquet is about to begin, but before you take your seats in the dining hall, you must first be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony..."

Professor McGonagall briefly introduced the names and glorious histories of the four houses, along with the rules for House Points, then left straight away to prepare for the Sorting Ceremony.

Harry swallowed and asked hoarsely:

"How can they possibly sort us into the right house?"

Ron turned back, shivering, with a smile uglier than crying:

"Fred said it hurts a lot. I reckon he's joking, but it's some kind of test either way."

The young wizards nearby had clearly had the same thought as Ron. A girl with bushy hair was muttering under her breath, and a good many others looked as despairing as Harry-clearly they knew nothing at all.

Zhang Xiao couldn't help laughing. It was an old Hogwarts tradition-scaring the new students.

Just then, a group of pearly-white ghosts suddenly drifted out of the wall, chatting as they floated forward, drawing gasps of wonder from the young wizards.

One plump ghost even loudly cheered them on, wishing them all Hufflepuff.

Harry and Ron were still desperately trying to figure out how they'd be sorted when three boys suddenly pushed through the crowd and came over. (Note 1)

The boy in the lead was pale, his hair slicked back in imitation of an adult's style.

He tilted his face up slightly, looking rather haughty. He fixed his eyes on Harry and, still mimicking an adult's tone, drawled slowly:

"Everyone's been saying Harry Potter would be starting this year. So that's you, is it?

Right?"

"Yes," said Harry. He looked at the other two boys-both were short and stout, and remarkably ugly, flanking the pale-faced boy on either side like a pair of bodyguards.

"Oh, this is Crabbe, and this is Goyle," said the pale boy, noticing Harry looking at them. He introduced them offhandedly, then said solemnly, as if announcing something momentous:

"I'm Malfoy. Draco Malfoy."

Ron ducked his head and covered his mouth to keep from laughing out loud.

Draco Malfoy looked at him. "Think my name's funny, do you? No need to ask who you are. My father told me all the Weasleys have red hair, freckles, and more children than they can afford."

He turned back to Harry: "You'll soon find out that some wizarding families are much better than others, Potter. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there."

Then he held out his hand. Harry looked at him and said coldly, "I think I can tell the wrong sort for myself."

A faint blush rose on Malfoy's pale face. He was about to withdraw his hand when a hand with long, slender fingers-fair and strong-reached over.

And grasped the hand that so many had wondered about: "What if Harry and Malfoy shook hands?"

But Zhang Xiao knew that Harry and Malfoy would never shake hands. Malfoy was far too much like Dudley-equally arrogant, equally flashy, like a spoiled child.

And he had just insulted Ron, a friend Harry acknowledged.

But just as all adults look at children, Zhang Xiao only found the kids' little schemes amusing. Under Malfoy's astonished gaze, he shook his hand, giving him a face-saving way out.

With a faint smile on his face, Zhang Xiao tightened his grip:

"What you just said was out of line. I'll give you a chance now-apologize!"

Malfoy felt the grip on his hand growing heavier and heavier. The pain twisted his face slightly. He sucked in a sharp breath and immediately carried forward the Malfoy family's fine tradition-the wise adapt to circumstances.

"I'm sorry! I shouldn't have said that."

Only then did Zhang Xiao release him, satisfied.

Malfoy stared at him with shock and fear, his eyes flickering. He wanted to say something to save face, but Professor McGonagall's voice cut him off, and he could only stalk back, fuming.

Harry secretly gave him a thumbs-up. Zhang Xiao patted Ron's shoulder and, under his grateful gaze, said:

"Don't take it to heart. Just a spoiled kid. Not bad at heart-just raised crooked."

Ron nodded, his mood much better than before.

Malfoy was actually rather pitiful. Everything he was had been instilled by his parents; he simply believed them unconditionally. With proper guidance, he might yet turn out fine.

But what was that to him? By Zhang Xiao's estimate, he'd either end up in Gryffindor, or-with his sharp mind-in Ravenclaw. Hufflepuff was possible too. The only place he couldn't possibly go was Slytherin.

As if. Him, a hot-blooded youth who stood up for what was right, in Slytherin?

Professor McGonagall came back in holding a roll of parchment and said loudly:

"Now, form a single line and follow me."

Note 1: In the novel, this scene takes place on the train; in the films, it's before the Sorting. The film version is used here.