With a "click", the doorknob was turned, and Stark stepped in. For an instant, he seemed to be in a trance. When he came to his senses, he found himself facing a lake with rippling water.
Stark found himself sitting in a small boat, holding an oar in his hand... wait, in his hand?
Stark looked down at his hand, and to his surprise, the previous coarse lines had disappeared, replaced by delicate ones that reminded him of his childhood.
Looking down, Stark noticed a black robe draped around his body that seemed oddly sized. As he stood up, he realized he had indeed returned to his childhood, with his physique resembling that of a 10-year-old.
"What are you doing? Get back to rowing the boat!" A voice echoed from behind him. He turned around and saw another child, dressed identically to him, waving for his attention.
"Rowing a boat? Why do I have to row a boat?" Stark turned to ask.
The student behind him sighed and said, "Can't you see the castle up ahead? It's our school. We have to row the boat to get there!"
"The school?" The moment Stark turned back, the scenery behind him stunned him.
The wavering lake's surface reflected bright lights, and above the glow was a tremendously vast and grand castle standing in the distance. The moonlight reflected on the lake was wavering, fluttering like a flag on the gate of a fantastical world.
Stark stared blankly at the castle, the illumination reflecting in his brown eyes, reigniting the fire of his dreams in the twilight.
"It's breathtaking, isn't it?" The student behind him sighed, "Ever since I got my acceptance letter, I've seen it in my dreams several times."
Slowly, Stark sat down. He grasped the oar and began to row until the boat reached the shore. Numerous children dressed in black robes, in a manner befitting herded ducks, disembarked from the boat. They were led up the stairs by a towering figure.
Upon entering the brilliantly lit hall, Stark looked up at the endless starry sky and the floating candles. Children like him were gazing up, entranced by this incredible, beautiful scene.
At this moment, someone who also donned a black robe, appeared to be a teacher, walking over and incessantly calling, "Line up! Be careful! Don't hit the person next to you!"
Stark, crammed in the crowd, moved forward with them. Because he disembarked early, he was up front and had a clear view of the male teacher who was organizing the students.
The man wore a large black robe, round glasses, and seemingly had a lightning-shaped scar on his forehead. Stark heard someone call him professor. It seemed strange, as this teacher looked too young to be a professor.
Stark wanted to ask, but at that moment, the man seated at the very front of the hall lightly tapped his glass with a spoon. Stark looked up, and his eyes were dazzled by the bright light of the candle.
He heard whispers beside him, "Is that the headmaster? He's so young."
"Yeah, I heard he used to be a professor of herbology, and he just recently became the new headmaster."
"Hush, everyone be quiet. The sorting ceremony is about to start!"
"The sorting? What's that?" Stark turned and asked the person next to him. The student blinked and said, "Are your parents Muggles too? Surely they read the information on the acceptance letter?"
"This school has four houses, and which house you go into is determined by the Sorting Hat. I hope to join Gryffindor, how about you?"
"Four houses? What's the difference between them?"
"Well, I can't say for sure, but I've heard Gryffindor is the best. Many famous wizards come from there. Its mascot is a lion, and I particularly likе lions…"
Stark listened as the student prattled on about the four houses. He looked around again, noticing the scenery so vivid and detailed it didn't seem like a dream at all.
If this was indeed a dream, it was surely a beautiful one. Stark looked at his palms, devoid of any wrinkles that come with age, pulsating with the vitality of youth and tenderness in his veins.
What was he doing at this age?
Stark remembered that he certainly wasn't enrolled in a boarding school like these children. He preferred spending his time in Howard's lab, playing with mechanical parts, disassembling toys, and then reassembling them.
In his mind, Stark wondered if Shiller spent his childhood in a boarding school. Did this represent some kind of memory or reason for the formation of a particular personality?
As he pondered, he heard the young male teacher standing near a seat with a list of names. Each time a name was called out, a student in a black robe hurriedly ran onto the stage and sat in a chair.
The male teacher would then place a hat on the student's head, and much to Stark's astonishment, the hat would begin to speak.
Well, this is a dream, and anything is possible in a dream, right? As Stark thought this, he heard the hat suddenly shouted in a high pitch, "Hufflepuff!"
Stark was startled by the shrill voice, and many of the students also erupted into whispers, seemingly discussing the Hufflepuff house.
After listening for a while, Stark realized they were calling names alphabetically. His turn should be a little later as names starting with S should be in the latter part.
But there weren't many students left waiting in the hall, so it was soon Stark's turn. He heard the male teacher at the front calling his full name: "Anthony Stark!"
Stark, somewhat curious, walked up and sat on the chair. The moment the dull grey hat landed on his head, he felt a sensation akin to electric shock.
"Oh...oh..."
He heard a dramatic and slightly ludicrous voice echo in his mind: "Another brilliant little brain, let me take a look..."
"Hey, wait!... What's this? What's this? Good heavens! What on earth is inside your brain?!!!"
"...Little Tony, do you know? The teacher standing next to you used to serve as an Auror in the Department of Magic, and he's an elite Auror. If I were to cry out, he would immediately arrest you!"
"Look inside your mind!" The Sorting Hat suddenly raised its tone: "Stuffed with an assortment of Muggle knowledge! So much... oh my, is your brain made of machinery? Do you need some lubrication?"
"Why do you talk so much nonsense?" Stark asked inwardly.
The Sorting Hat fell silent, seemingly unused to such straightforward students. After a while, it spoke: "What House would you like to be in?"
Before Stark could open his mouth, he heard the hat continue nonchalantly: "If I didn't put you in Ravenclaw, it would truly tarnish my reputation. But actually, I've also seen the bravery of Gryffindor and the kindness of Hufflepuff in your heart. Where do you want to go?"
Stark hesitated for a moment, saying, "I heard that Gryffindor is the best House, is that true?"
"No, no, no. It's just the most famous one. The Houses in this school are not about good or bad, but about whether they suit you."
"Do you think Ravenclaw would suit me well?"
"The founder of the house once had a very famous maxim - 'Superior intellect is the greatest wealth of mankind'."
"I choose Ravenclaw," Stark said without hesitation.
"Good!" Once again, the Sorting Hat raised its voice, but this time, instead of shouting out the name directly, it gave a lengthy preface:
"A fortunate House is about to welcome a prodigious genius, and that is—"
All the people below started cheering, shouting their own House names, as if expecting the arrival of the next celebrity. At this moment, the Sorting Hat loudly proclaimed: "Wisdom belongs to Ravenclaw!"
As Stark got up from the chair, the male teacher standing next to him gave him a smile. When he returned to his seat, the older students welcomed him, saying, "You'll like this place. We have the best common room and library and the best brains."
The candlelight began to flicker, and the lively atmosphere continued. In the brightly lit hall filled with laughter and chatter, it wasn't until Stark started to feel a little tired that they returned to their common room under the leadership of the older students.
Stark had never attended a boarding school, but he had heard rumors about Catholic boarding schools. He thought this would be a strict school where everyone strictly adhered to the Bible. But soon, he discovered that the magic of this school was far from just that.
"This is the door to the common room. I'm guessing you all see it. Do you see this doorknob? It's our guardian. You must answer the question posed by the doorknob in order to enter the common room."
The senior standing at the front proudly declared, "The Sorting Hat acknowledged your intellect, but every year several dimwits can't answer the question and are locked outside. I suppose you don't wish to be one of them."
"Today, I'll demonstrate. After today, it's your job to open this door."
When Stark heard the doorknob start speaking, he wasn't too shocked. He convinced himself to accept all the irrationalities here under the pretext of "this is just a dream."
Despite all that, he found it rather amusing. After all, it wasn't often that one was expected to answer a doorknob's question with utmost seriousness.
Walking into the common room, the grandeur of the place surprised Stark - not because he was unworldly, but because he had never seen anything like this style before, which resembled settings from books or movies.
Blue silk draped down from the walls, rows and rows of bookshelves were placed against the wall, the oversized curved floor-to-ceiling windows let in moonlight, illuminating the blue carpet. Everything was beautiful and magical.
That's how Stark dreamed within a dream. In the dream, he went to school, attended classes, and did homework, just like anyone else. These activities, which he had imagined to be dull and a waste of time, turned into a wonderful experience after being touched by the school's unique style.
When the morning light fell into his dorm room, Stark sat up from his bed feeling a rare sense of relaxation. His rather monotonous childhood had been spiced up with some different memories. Although he knew very well that it was just a dream, a long-missed wonderful dream can certainly lighten one's mood.
Unfortunately, the joyful mood only lasted until the start of the first class. Stark listened to the teacher on the stage say:
"As you all know, the first class of the new term is the Magic Curse class. Here, you will learn how to use a magic wand to cast spells. Of course, in first grade, we will learn the simplest spells."
"Those powerful spells that are celebrated amongst all, you have seven years to gradually master them."
"So now, take out your magic wands..."
Stark was stunned at his desk.
Magic Wand?
Magic???