A little wizard with a mop of ssy blonde hair thought hard for a mont.
"No clue," he said.
"You don't even know what you're thinking about?!"
Michael Corner was certain his two friends, Anthony and Terry, were going to shave years off his life with their antics.
As for the "elegant and swift" dining etiquette Michael had ntioned…
Growing up in a poor orphanage, you learned to survive however you could. Most of the ti, those thods were useless beyond tornting the kids' minds and bodies. The only ones who seed to benefit were the caretakers, who found every excuse to scold and shout.
Sean had been forced to pick up a few things in that miserable place—like etiquette. Dining, walking, even going to bed ca with a rigid set of rules.
Good thing I got out of there, Sean thought. Otherwise, that jobless caretaker Anna would've made my life even worse.
In the Great Hall at Hogwarts, Dumbledore was chatting and laughing with the professors at the high table. Sean was busy scarfing down food. Michael was trying to flirt with so witches nearby. Sean was still scarfing down food. Terry was scribbling notes on sothing Dumbledore had said. And Sean? You guessed it—still eating.
The noise in the hall finally died down as the food vanished from the tables.
"Now, everyone's had their fill!" Dumbledore's booming voice rang out.
Had their fill? Not quite, Sean thought to himself.
Dumbledore went on, listing three warnings: no entering the room on the far right of the fourth-floor corridor, no venturing into the Forbidden Forest, and no wandering the castle at night.
"And now, before we head to bed, let's sing the school song!" Dumbledore called out enthusiastically.
Sean watched as the smiles on the professors' faces froze. It didn't take long for him to figure out why.
"This is awful," Sean muttered, covering his ears.
"If you don't want to hear it, you've got to sing!" Michael belted out the song with gusto, completely off-key. "If you don't torture everyone else, they'll torture you!"
"Makes sense," Sean admitted.
So, he joined in:
Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts,
Teach us sothing, please!
Whether we're old and bald or young with scabby knees,
Our heads could use so filling with so fascinating things.
For now, they're bare and full of air, dead flies, and bits of fluff,
So teach us stuff worth knowing, bring back what we've forgot.
Just do your best, we'll do the rest,
And learn until our brains all rot.
"You sang that amazingly!" Michael said, leaning over after the song ended.
Sean nodded. He'd snuck in a tune from a pop song he rembered from his past life, and it worked like a charm. At least the howling around him had quieted down a bit.
Soon, they followed a tall, graceful prefect out of the Great Hall, up the spiraling staircases. And up. And up.
"These stairs are going to be the death of !" Michael groaned, slumping against the railing.
"Didn't you just say the prefect's legs were going to be the death of you?" Anthony quipped, rolling his eyes.
"Hey! You can't just spill brotherly secrets like that, Anthony!" Michael shot back, suddenly full of energy as he lunged to tickle Anthony.
By the ti they reached the common room, Sean's face was pale. Another few steps, and his body might've given out entirely.
"I've got to figure sothing out," Sean gasped under his breath.
The Ravenclaw first-years finally made it to the common room. The blonde prefect stood there, smiling warmly, waiting for them to catch their breath. Once everyone was breathing normally, she spoke.
"Congratulations! I'm Prefect Penelope Clearwater, and I'm thrilled to welco you to Ravenclaw House. Our emblem is the eagle, soaring high above peaks no one else can reach. Our common room is at the top of Ravenclaw Tower, and through the arched windows, you can see the whole Hogwarts campus—the Black Lake, the Forbidden Forest, the Quidditch pitch, and the greenhouses. No other house gets a view this stunning. So might say it's a hassle, but let tell you, once you master flying a broom, it's absolutely magical!
"Oh, and our house ghost is the Grey Lady. Most think she never speaks, but she'll talk to Ravenclaws. She's the daughter of Rowena Ravenclaw herself, a beautiful woman with a rumored connection to the Bloody Baron—sothing you can investigate yourselves. She's especially helpful if you're lost or can't find sothing.
"I'm sure you'll have a wonderful night. Our four-poster beds are draped in sky-blue silk, and the sound of the wind whistling past the windows is so soothing. One last ti: welco to the smartest, sharpest, and most fascinating house at Hogwarts!"
Her short, spirited speech lit up the eyes of the young witches and wizards. Michael and the other Ravenclaws burst into enthusiastic applause.
Flying broomsticks, Sean thought, rembering how skilled Ravenclaws could fly back to the tower. He made a ntal note, ranking it just below securing a scholarship, as he took in the Ravenclaw common room.
It was one of the airiest, most spacious rooms in Hogwarts castle. A large, circular space with elegant arched windows draped in blue and bronze silk. From those windows, Ravenclaws could gaze out at the breathtaking scenery. The ceiling was a starry do, mirrored by a deep blue carpet speckled with stars. The room was filled with tables, chairs, and bookshelves, and in a niche opposite the door stood a white marble bust of Rowena Ravenclaw. Next to it, a door led to the dormitories, which Penelope was now pointing to.
"Now, co get your titable from , then head through that door to your dorms. Your dorm assignnts are on the back of the titable," she said, calmly directing the Ravenclaw first-years to line up.
Sean glanced at his titable and groaned. Potions, the toughest class, was first thing Monday morning—two periods in a row. A sense of urgency hit him. He wanted to rush back to the dorm and review Magical Drafts and Potions. He'd only morized it once, and if he blanked out, the Half-Blood Prince wasn't exactly going to hold his hand.
"Sean!" Michael called out excitedly.
Sean turned, confused.
"My grandma always said people who love food can't be bad!" Michael said, waving his titable. On the back, it read: Dorm 404: Sean Green, Michael Corner.
With Michael's arm slung around his shoulders (very one-sidedly), they stepped into the dorm. The walls were adorned with blue and silver decorations, each bed had its own bookshelf, and the arched windows were draped with blue silk. Sean's eyes went straight to the thick, teal-blue bedding.
No freezing tonight, he thought with relief.
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