"Firs' years! Firs' years over here! All right there, Harry?"
Hagrid's big hairy head beamed over the sea of heads.
"C'mon, follow me -- any more firs' years? Mind yer step, now! Firs' years follow me!"
Oliver followed the crowd through the steep and narrow path. In the dark of night, the boys and girls struggled to remain balanced, as they could barely see. Someone could be heard sniffing once or twice through the silence. Probably Neville.
"Ye' all get yer firs' sight o' Hogwarts in a sec," Hagrid said, over his shoulder, "jus' round this bend here."
"Ooooooooh!" the children chorused.
Oliver finally saw Hogwarts, and what a sight it was. Across a great black lake was the caste, perched atop a mountain. It was simply massive. Hundreds of windows sparkled with the light of the shining stars above.
"No more'n four to a boat!" Hagrid called, pointing to the boats stationed by the edge of the lake.
Harry, Ron, and Oliver got in their boat, followed by Hermione.
"Everyone in? Right then -- FORWARD!" shouted Hagrid.
All of the boats began gliding across the smooth black surface of water, and the children looked around in wonder.
Oliver was looking into the depths, attempting to spot the massive friendly squid he knew resided there, to no avail. Everyone else was looking at the castle; it was simply magical (obviously).
"Heads down!" yelled Hagrid, as they passed through a curtain of ivy which hid an opening inside the massive cliff that Hogwarts sat above.
They were carried underneath a tunnel which seemed to be situated below the castle itself, until they reached some sort of underground harbor. The boys and girls all exited their boats.
"Oy, you there! Is this yer toad?" said Hagrid, as he checked the boats for any missing belongings.
"Trevor!" cried one boy, who must have been Neville.
Hagrid eventually finished searching the fleet of boats, and went in front of everyone with his dimly lit lamp. Oliver and the rest followed him up a passageway in the rock which ended in smooth, damp grass right in the shadow of the castle.
Oliver, tired, walked up the stone stairs in front of Hogwarts, and crowded around the massive oak doors with everybody else.
"Everyone here? You there, still got yer toad?"
Hagrid raised a gigantic fist and pounded thrice on wooden doors.
They swung open, revealing a tall, black-haired woman in emerald-green robes. She had a very stern face.
"The firs' years, Professor McGonagall," said Hagrid.
'So this is McGonagall,' thought Oliver, 'definitely shouldn't get on her bad side.'
"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here," she responded.
She pulled the doors wide open, and Oliver could see the absolutely massive entrance hall.
'Jesus,' he remarked, in his own head.
They followed the professor across the flagged stone floor and into a small, empty chamber to the side.
"Welcome to Hogwarts," said Professor McGonagall. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you must be sorted into your Houses. The sorting ceremony is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family here in Hogwarts."
As she continued to lecture the children, Oliver was only half paying attention seeing as he knew all of this information regardless. A second later, it occurred to him that it might be a good idea to pay attention Professor McGonagall's words in order to not piss her off. She didn't seem to notice him, which was good.
"The sorting ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school, so I suggest that you smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting."
Her eyes judgmentally scanned each of the kids, her eyes passing over Oliver and landing on Ron's smudged nose.
"I shall return when we are ready for you," said Professor McGonagall. "Please wait quietly."
She left the chamber.
"How exactly do they sort us into houses?" Oliver could hear Harry ask.
"Some sort of test, I think. Fred said that it hurts a lot, but I think he was joking," Ron responded.
"Nah, it's a hat bro," said Oliver, forgetting his 90s British dialect.
"What?" Said Harry and Ron, at the same time.
"Literally all we do is have a talking hat placed on our head in front of the whole school."
"How do you know this?" asked Hermione. "I don't believe I read anything about this in Hogwarts, a History."
"I'm built different," Oliver responded.
"What is that supposed to even mean?!" shrieked Hermione, visibly panicked.
Right then, twenty or so ghosts glided through one of the walls, causing a few to scream in terror.
"What the --?" He could hear Harry say.
The ghosts were talking to each other, but Oliver couldn't quite make out their words.
"New students!" said one of the ghosts, smiling around them. "About to be sorted, I suppose."
A few people nodded their heads in response.
"Hope to see you in Hufflepuff!" said the ghost. "My old house, you know."
"Move along now," said a sharp voice. "The sorting ceremony is about to start."
Professor McGonagall had returned, and one by one, the ghosts passed through another wall.
"Now, form a line," she said, "and follow me."
Oliver got behind Ron, who himself was behind Harry.
As they funneled into the Great Hall, Oliver observed, fascinated, the thousands of candles afloat around the place. There were four long tables, corresponding to each house, each laden with glittering plates and goblets. At the top of the hall was another, smaller table, where the teachers were sitting.
"Its bewitched to look like the sky outside. I read about it in Hogwarts, a History," Hermione said, referring to the ceiling above.
Professor McGonagall placed a wooden stool in front of the first years, and on top of the stool she put a dusty old wizard's hat.
'So this is the sorting hat,' thought Oliver.
For a few seconds, there was complete silence. Then, the hat twitched. A rip near the brim opened wide like a mouth, and began to sing.
"Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,
But don't judge on what you see..."
As the hat continued singing the familiar song, Oliver smiled to himself.
It soon finished, and the entire hall burst into applause. The hat bowed to the four tables, and returned to its resting position.
Professor McGonagall stepped forward holding a long roll of parchment.
"When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted," she said. "Abbot, Hannah!"
The girl in question stepped up, put the hat on, and sat on the stool.
"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat.
"Bones, Susan!"
"HUFFLEPUFF!"
"Boot, Terry!"
"RAVENCLAW"
As more and more people were sorted, Oliver was getting nervous.
'Thirty years of age in total and I am still afraid of such a small thing?'
"Granger, Hermione!"
"GRYFFINDOR!"
At this point, Oliver knew he was up soon, and his hands clenched by his sides with anxiety.
"Hatt, Oliver!" said Professor McGonagall.
He went up, picked up the hat, and sat down. He let out a breath, inhaled, and got ready to put the hat on his head. And, as soon as the hat touched his hair, he heard it shout.
"RAVENCLAW!"
Oliver panicked for a moment, and dropped the hat on the floor. Embarrassed, he clumsily picked it up and put it back on the stool, and went over to the Ravenclaw table.
Finally, the ordeal was over. After a sitting down next to some older boys he did not recognize, he took some time to observe the table with all of the professors. On one end sat Hagrid's massive self, whom Oliver realized must have entered during the lecture from Professor McGonagall. Dumbledore sat in the middle, in a large golden chair, whose blue eyes twinkled as he watched the rest of Oliver's year get sorted, clapping along with the rest of the Great Hall.
Oliver also noticed a rather young man wearing a purple turban, smiling nervously -- even though nobody was paying attention to him.
'That must be Quirrell,' thought Oliver, 'he looks weird, as expected.'
Eventually, the sorting ended, and Dumbledore stood up with his arms wide open.
"Welcome," he said. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you!"
'This is the second time listening to this speech and I still don't understand what in the world he is on about,' Oliver thought.
Dumbledore sat down, as everyone clapped and cheered. When Oliver looked back at his table, the plates were filled with roast beef, roast chicken, pork chops and lamb chops, sausages, bacon and steak, boiled potatoes, roast potatoes, fries, some sort of pudding, peas, carrots, gravy, ketchup, and more.
In Oliver's previous life, he was a picky eater -- a trait which made the orphanage hell on earth -- and finally, he could just eat fries. While nutrition would probably help a lot with becoming a powerful wizard, seeing as witches and wizards appear to eat at least three times as much as muggles do, he wanted to revisit the taste of a nice, greasy pizza or grilled cheese with a side of french fries.
Sure, he had to act British in his second life, but Oliver didn't see why he couldn't indulge himself every once and a while. He cleared his throat.
"Uh, if you can hear me, may I please have a grilled cheese? I don't see it anywhere on my table --"
Pop!
A grilled cheese, slathered with buttery deliciousness with cheese melting off the sides of the bread, was something Oliver simply could not resist.
"Thank you so much! This looks amazing!"
He imagined the house elves doing a little high five in the kitchens, while the others at the table gave him strange looks.
Ignoring the fork and knife placed carefully next to his plate, Oliver grabbed one half of his grilled cheese, and dug in to the meal.
'This tastes way better than I remembered. Is it because of the house elves, or is it a result of my child brain liking greasy foods a lot more than when I was older?'
After everyone was finished with their dinner, the food all disappeared from the golden plates, and a moment later, blocks of ice cream in many flavors, apple pies, treacle tarts, chocolate eclairs, jelly donuts, and many other desserts were summoned to fill the tables.
'They don't have any cookies 'n cream here -- seeing as it's still relatively new in 1991, that makes sense. Still wish it was here, though,' thought Oliver.
He decided to grab a scoop of vanilla and another of chocolate for desert. Putting his spoon to his mouth, he decided that he liked his dessert, a lot.
The others at the table were gossiping about Quirrell.
"How good of a professor is he? I never took his class when he was teaching muggle studies," the person to Oliver's left remarked.
"He was alright, I guess. But something seems a little... off about him this year. I wonder if something happened to him during his sabbatical last year?" someone else said.
"I heard he met a vampire, which traumatized him. That's why he smells like garlic!" another person said.
Oliver snorted, though he was curious as to why exactly Quirrell smelled like he did. Sure, he knew that he was possessed by Voldemort, but why on earth would that change the way he smelled?
After the desserts were finished -- the wizards and witches were able to do significant damage to the mounds of sugary treats decorating the tables -- and the tables were magically cleaned, once again, Dumbledore got up on his feet.
"Ahem -- just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you. First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well."
Dumbledore's sparkling eyes turned to look at the Weasley twins for a moment.
"I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors. Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their house team should contact Madam Hooch. And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death."
A few people laughed, mostly first years, but most were silent.
"And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!" cried Dumbledore, giving his wand a flick.
A long golden ribbon came out of it, shaping itself into lyrics.
"Everyone pick their favorite tune," said Dumbledore, "and off we go!"
Oliver uncharacteristically decided to join in, choosing to rap the anthem based off a song that has yet to be created. As he sung, he felt something ancient in the air; such a tradition in a castle as filled with magic as Hogwarts was bound to have some sort of supernatural effect in his opinion. Or perhaps, he was simply caught up in the moment.
Everyone finished the song at different times, with the Weasley twins singing to a slow funeral march at the end. Dumbledore conducted the last few lines with his wand.
After the twins' drew to a close their rendition of the anthem, the hall burst into applause.
"Ah, music," said Dumbledore, wiping his eyes. "A magic beyond all we do here! And now, bedtime. Off you trot!"
All of the Ravenclaw first years followed one of their prefects out of the Great Hall and, eventually, up a plethora of stairs to the top of the Ravenclaw tower. Upon reaching the dormitory, Robert gave a speech.
"Congratulations! I'm Prefect Robert Hilliard, and I'm delighted to welcome you to the Ravenclaw house. Our emblem is the eagle, which soars where others cannot climb; our house colors are blue and bronze, and our common room is found at the top of Ravenclaw Tower, behind a door with an enchanted knocker. The arched windows set into the walls of our circular common room look down at the school grounds: the lake, the Forbidden Forest, the Quidditch pitch, and the Herbology gardens. No other house in the school has such stunning views."
Privately, Oliver disagreed with Robert's last statement; the underwater view of the Slytherin commons must be quite a sight to see, in his opinion.
Oliver and his new roommates went over to their bedroom. As soon as they entered, he was shocked.
'Bunkbeds? Are you kidding me? This is going to be miserable. I absolutely must become a prefect in the future.'
"So what are your names? Mine's Terry," said one of Oliver's new roommates, "Terry Boot."
"Anthony Goldstein," said Anthony Goldstein.
"Michael Corner."
"Oliver Hatt."
"Okay, great!" said Terry.
"What do you guys think about the bunkbeds? I can ask if we can replace them with normal beds if you lads are okay with it," said Oliver.
"That would be great," Michael said, relieved. The other two did not say anything, which Oliver decided to ignore.
The roommates got settled in, chatting, and then brushed their teeth, before going to bed early.
'All in all, this first night at Hogwarts was amazing,' Oliver thought, as he lay in his bed. 'I hope tomorrow will be just as fun.'