The hearth in the stone cottage blazed with a steady, crackling warmth. Since Sean's arrival, the long-abandoned fireplace had burned miraculously, despite the complete absence of firewood. It was a fla birthed of pure magic, fueled by the ancient runes etched into the surrounding masonry.
"My dear Mr. Hers, Professor Terra, follow ."
Headmistress Herrera gave a sharp wave of her hand. Professor Terra, who had been focused on the stonework with narrow-eyed intensity, let out a small sigh of disappointnt before turning to follow.
Sean cast his gaze toward the distance.
The mist began to churn and rise.
A monolithic structure suddenly materialized before his eyes. It was being swallowed and spat out by the greyish-white evening vapors rising from Mount Greylock. Its silhouette was profound; in the shifting fog, it looked like a colossal phantom or a mysterious island drifting in a sea of clouds.
The heavy walls were a deep, somber color, sowhere between cold slate and midnight blue. Damp with the mountain air, the stone looked solemn and ancient. The narrow, stained-glass windows were re blurred smudges of dim color, like the heavy eyelids of a sleeping giant.
"Welco, then, to Ilvermorny!"
Headmistress Herrera spoke with a vibrant, stirring voice. She reached out and finally took Sean by the hand. The young wizard looked at her with slightly bewildered eyes before glancing back at his teacher.
"Go on, my apprentice. Herrera will lead you directly into the Hall of Ilvermorny," Professor Terra said with a dry chuckle. "As for , I've had quite enough of Sorting ceremonies for one lifeti, but I shall be watching you from the circular balcony."
Her words were half-explanation, half-warning.
"We shall Apparate, my dear Mr. Hers. I hear you have co prepared for the transition?" Headmistress Herrera asked, her deanor perpetually warm.
"Yes, Headmistress."
Sean produced a small phial of potion. In truth, he had Apparated many tis, but he had never once experienced the nauseating vertigo most wizards suffered. During their travels, Professor Terra had always insisted on using the Floo Network, even when it added hours to their journey.
Herrera snapped her fingers.
The world blurred and compressed. A second later, the mountain air was gone, replaced by the scent of old parchnt and wax. They stood in an Entrance Hall as vast as the lobby of Gringotts. Torches roared in brackets along the stone walls, and the ceiling was so high it was lost in shadow. Directly ahead was a magnificent marble staircase leading to the upper floors.
"The hearth in the stone cottage has been lit for you, Mr. Green—if I may call you that. Consider it a small welcoming gift. You shall have plenty of ti to unearth its secrets," Herrera said with a bright smile. She looked at Sean, then toward the stairs. "The four statues are still awake... Tell , a small point of curiosity: which House do you belong to at Hogwarts?"
She seed genuinely eager for the answer, the wrinkles around her eyes crinkling.
"Ravenclaw," Sean replied.
"Isolt Sayre loved blue above all else, for as a child, she dread of being a Ravenclaw student herself," Herrera noted softly. Sean finally understood the significance of the Headmistress's blue and cranberry robes. "Now, walk into the Hall. Ilvermorny—where democracy and equality reign—awaits you."
Accompanied by Herrera's ringing voice, a cool draft brushed against Sean's ears as they entered the Great Hall of the school. It was a vast, circular chamber. In the center of the floor was a massive inlay of the Gordian Knot. Standing against the walls were four towering, wooden carvings of magical beasts.
"The Horned Serpent: chosen by Isolt Sayre. It represents the mind of a wizard and favors scholars.
"The Wampus: chosen by Webster Boot. It represents the body and favors warriors.
"The Thunderbird: chosen by Chadwick Boot. It represents the soul and favors adventurers.
"The Pukwudgie: chosen by Jas Steward. It represents the heart and favors healers..."
A voice introduced the statues to Sean. He looked up to see a distinguished-looking wizard standing nearby. From the badge on his robes, Sean recognized the na: Agilbert Fontaine, the Transfiguration Professor.
The future Headmaster, Sean noted. He couldn't help but wonder why Transfiguration professors always seed to end up running their respective schools.
Behind Professor Fontaine stood Professor Terra and Headmistress Herrera. Surrounding the upper level of the hall was a crowd of excited students in blue and cranberry uniforms, whispering and leaning over the railings.
"A transfer student! rlin's beard, I didn't think Ilvermorny accepted those."
"Look at his eyes... they're striking, aren't they?"
"Honestly, Lila, give it a rest. But you're right. I heard the statues were restless earlier... as if they didn't like being woken up."
Sean caught the snippets of conversation. He was surprised; he'd assud that because it was late, there wouldn't be much of an audience. Instead, there were hundreds of eyes fixed on him from the circular balconies above.
Amidst the noise, Professor Fontaine spoke.
"When I call your na, step forward and stand upon the Knot to await your House."
Sean blinked. Are there others?
The phrasing was hauntingly familiar, nearly identical to the speech Professor McGonagall gave before the Sorting Hat. It seed Isolt Sayre's love for Hogwarts had left a permanent mark on her own school's traditions.
"Sean Green!"
Fontaine's voice rang through the chamber. The hall went stone-silent.
Sean walked to the center of the Gordian Knot. The mont his foot touched the center of the pattern, the crystal set into the forehead of the Horned Serpent carving erupted with a brilliant, pulsing light.
Professor Fontaine and Headmistress Herrera both leaned forward, their eyes bright. Behind them, the students wearing Horned Serpent patches broke into a deafening cheer.
"Welco to the Serpent! The mind is our strength—we welco a true scholar!" a dignified-looking upper-year girl shouted over the din. As a Prefect, she had heard the internal rumors; she knew this was the legendary "Mr. Hers," the boy the Headmistress had been anticipating for months.
"Herrera, don't get ahead of yourself just because you were a Serpent," Professor Terra noted with a small, knowing smirk.
As if to validate her words, a low, vibrating rumble filled the room. The Wampus carving let out a ferocious, wooden roar.
The students with the Wampus badges erupted in a frenzy of shouting and fist-pumping. "Brilliant! Choose Wampus—the ho of the warriors!" their brawny Prefect roared, slamming a fist into his palm.
"I am quite curious to see which path Mr. Green will choose," Headmistress Herrera said to Terra, her excitent palpable.
"Choose? Now?" Terra humd.
At that exact mont, the Thunderbird carving suddenly beat its heavy wooden wings, the sound like a clap of thunder echoing through the hall. Not to be outdone, the Pukwudgie raised its wooden bow and aid an imaginary arrow high into the rafters.
[End of Chapter 352]
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