The boats glided closer to the cliff, their path narrowing as they approached a towering wall of dark stone. "Heads down!" Hagrid called from the front. Draco ducked instinctively, feeling the cool brush of ivy against his hair as the boats slipped through a curtain of greenery. They passed through a wide opening in the rock, entering a dim tunnel beneath the castle.
The passage was eerily quiet, with only the occasional drip of water breaking the stillness. Draco tightened his grip on the edge of the boat, his mind buzzing with thoughts. The tunnel felt long and winding, as if it were leading them into something hidden and ancient. He could sense the weight of the castle above, the centuries of magic woven into its stone walls pressing down on them.
The boats bumped gently against the shore, and the first-years climbed out, wobbling as they struggled to find their footing on the slick rocks. Draco stepped out with ease, his expression neutral, though excitement and a trace of anxiety swirled within him. The air was cooler here, charged with an almost electric quality, as if the castle itself was alive with secrets.
Ahead, the grand oak doors of Hogwarts loomed tall, flanked by imposing stone columns. Hagrid led the group forward and knocked on the door with his massive fist. It swung open swiftly, revealing a stern woman in emerald robes—Professor McGonagall.
"The first-years are here, Professor McGonagall," Hagrid announced.
McGonagall nodded briskly. "Thank you, Hagrid. I'll take them from here."
Draco glanced around, quietly impressed by the scale of the entrance hall. It was vast, the stone walls illuminated by flickering torches. The ceiling stretched high above, disappearing into shadow, making the space feel even larger than it appeared.
McGonagall's gaze swept over the group, pausing briefly on Harry. Harry Potter, she thought, her lips tightening. It's going to be a difficult year. Then her eyes landed on Draco. So much like his father.
"Follow me," she instructed, turning toward the grand marble staircase that curved gracefully upward to the upper levels of the castle.
The first-years trailed behind her, their nervous whispers fading into the soft echoes of footsteps on stone. Draco walked quietly, his movements measured as he absorbed every detail—the cold stone underfoot, the flicker of torchlight, and the sense of history that seemed to seep from the very walls.
"Welcome to Hogwarts," McGonagall said, her tone brisk but not unkind. The first-years fell silent, their anxiety palpable. Draco remained still, his eyes fixed on her, assessing her every word.
"The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly," she continued, her gaze steady as she addressed the group. "But before you join your fellow students in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your Houses. Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin—each has its own traditions, values, and expectations. Your House will be your family while you are here, sharing your dormitory and attending classes together."
She paused, letting her words settle over them. "You will have the chance to earn points for your House, but you can also lose them. The House with the most points at the end of the year will win the House Cup."
Is there any real reward? Draco wondered. In the original story, there wasn't, but since this is an alternate universe, maybe something's changed.
Draco noticed the subtle shift in McGonagall's tone when she spoke of rule-breaking—a delicate warning wrapped in formal language. "I trust you will all make choices that reflect well on your House."
Unlike the original story, McGonagall didn't leave them to wait but led them directly inside.
As they entered the castle, Draco caught his first glimpse of the Great Hall through the large open doors. The enchanted ceiling mirrored the night sky, while floating candles bathed the room in soft, golden light. Long tables filled with older students stretched across the hall, their eyes turning to observe the new arrivals. The scene was familiar, yet more vivid than he had ever imagined.
But Draco's attention quickly shifted away from the scenery, honing in on the staff table at the far end of the hall. The first figure that caught his eye was an old man with a long, silver beard, smiling gently—he resembled Michael Gambon, Draco thought. Dumbledore, he muttered inwardly, recalling the man's reputation. One of the strongest wizards alive, if not the strongest. At least in the original timeline. I hope he's not dark like in some or most fanfictions, Draco mused before turning his attention to the others.
His gaze immediately sought out a man sitting nervously, his head wrapped in a large, violet turban. Quirinus Quirrell, Draco thought, his mind racing. Does that mean Voldemort is here too? Not wanting to attract attention, he quickly shifted his gaze again.
Next, Draco's eyes landed on a man with jet-black hair that hung in greasy strands to his shoulders. His sharp, piercing eyes glinted coldly beneath his angular face—Severus Snape, the Potions Master, dressed in his signature black robes. One of my favorites, at least before. I'll need to find out if he's like his original counterpart or someone else, Draco thought, already planning for the future.
Draco briefly glanced at the other professors—Filius Flitwick, the half-goblin; Sybill Trelawney, the seer; Pomona Sprout—and a few whose names he couldn't recall for now.
His thoughts were interrupted when the legendary Sorting Hat, placed on the chair, twitched, and from within its worn seams, a deep voice emerged, rich and clear:
"Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,
But don't judge on what you see,
I'll eat myself if you can find
A smarter hat than me."
The hall was still, save for the hat's voice, which grew stronger as it continued its song:
"In wise old Ravenclaw, if you've a ready mind,
Those of wit and learning will always find their kind.
In Slytherin, you'll make your real friends,
Those cunning folk use any means to achieve their ends."
Draco's attention sharpened at the mention of Slytherin.
The hat's song continued, its tone shifting as it touched on the other houses. Each had its strengths and history, each a path to greatness. But there was an undertone of caution—hidden within the playful words was a reminder that this was not just a school, but the beginning of something much larger. A game of power, alliances, and survival, all unfolding within these ancient walls.
Finally, the Sorting Hat concluded, its voice dropping to a more serious note:
"So put me on! Don't be afraid!
And don't get in a flap!
You're in safe hands (though I have none)
For I'm a Thinking Cap!"
As the last notes of the song echoed through the hall, the students erupted into applause. The hat bowed slightly, but Draco remained still, absorbing the weight of the moment. The Sorting was only the beginning, but the Sorting Hat's words carried a sense of foreboding. It was a reminder that while houses would define them, the true challenges lay ahead in a much larger game.
McGonagall cleared her throat, pulling the group's attention back. "When I call your name, step forward, place the Sorting Hat on your head, and your future House will be declared."
The ceremony began, names being called one by one, and the hat placed on each head, making its decisions quickly or after a moment's consideration.
.....
Author's pov
Which power system is better:
1.My Dungeon Life: Rise of the Slave Harem
2.Slave Harem in the Labyrinth of the Other World
Which one do you guys prefer
Also fiction worlds where power system in not in pure levels but like stages like A, B ... F , or normal, intermediate, king , saint . If you remember a sword & magic world with similar concept give me a list . For example like
'Supreme Harem God' System but more diverse.