First Impressions
Arthur Pendragon wandered through the lively King's Cross Station, where the air buzzed with the chatter of travelers and the rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled his senses. With purpose in his step, he headed toward the mysterious Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, a secret portal to the enchanting realm of magic. As he neared the barrier, a thrill surged within him, and with a deep breath, he sprinted forward, feeling the familiar embrace of magic surrounding him. Upon reaching the platform, he joined the Marauders, their laughter echoing in the air as they boarded the Hogwarts Express, the train that would carry them to the wondrous halls of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, where countless adventures awaited just around the corner.
As the Hogwarts Express puffed along the tracks, its steam rising into the crisp autumn air, Arthur settled into a snug compartment with the Marauders, a spirited group of friends whose laughter echoed thorugh the train. James Potter, ever the prankster, leaned back with a mischievous grin, sharing stories of their latest antics, while Sirius Black animatedly joined in, his gestures amplifying the fun. Remus Lupin, the sensible one, rolled his eyes but couldn’t help but smile, occasionally adding his own witty remarks that kept the banter flowing. Peter Pettigrew, more quiet, nodded enthusiastically, his eyes sparkling with admiration for his bolder companions. Arthur, basking in the warmth of friendship, recounted his own tales of adventure in Camelot, blending elements of magic and chivalry that captivated the Marauders, who listened with rapt attention, their imaginations ignited by the fusion of their worlds. The train rattled onward, a vessel of camaraderie and joy, as they all delighted in the thrill of being young wizards for another exciting year at Hogwarts.
As the sun sank beneath the horizon, bathing the ancient towers of Hogwarts in a warm golden glow, Arthur Pendragon and his band of Marauders made their spectacular entrance into the admirable halls of the school for their third year. The atmosphere crackled with excitement and anticipation, with whispers of students echoing through the stone corridors as they caught sight of the group. Leading the charge was Arthur, his messy hair and playful sparkle in his eye reflecting his eagerness for the adventures that lay ahead. The bond among the friends was unmistakable, each one brimming with enthusiasm to uncover the castle's secrets and create lasting memories. Laughter filled the air as they walked through the halls, their spirits soaring, ready to tackle the challenges and wonders that awaited them in another year at Hogwarts.
In the bustling grand hall, Arthur Pendragon and the marauders sat on the edge of their seats, captivated by the sorting ceremony unfolding before them. The flickering candlelight cast playful shadows on the walls, highlighting the eager expressions of the new first years as they approached the magical hat.
"Check out that one," Arthur murmured, gesturing toward a particularly anxious boy with wide eyes. "He looks like he might pass out any moment!" His friend, a cheeky grin spreading across his face, leaned in closer.
"I bet he’ll land in Hufflepuff; they always get the jumpy ones," Sirius laughed, prompting a round of chuckles from the group. The air was thick with anticipation, and with each name called, the marauders exchanged playful jabs and predictions, their friendship shining brightly amidst the solemnity of the event. The atmosphere buzzed with the promise of new adventures, and Arthur felt a swell of pride for the legacy they were all part of, even as they enjoyed the lighthearted banter that made the moment unforgettable.
In the lively Great Hall, excitement buzzed in the air as the Sorting Hat was placed on Regulus Black's head. Arthur Pendragon, sitting at the Gryffindor table, exchanged looks with his fellow marauders, their faces reflecting a blend of curiosity and contempt.
"Can you believe it? Another Black joining Slytherin," Arthur scoffed, his tone dripping with sarcasm. James Potter leaned closer, a mischievous grin on his face.
"I bet he’ll be just as unbearable as the rest of them," he said, glancing over at the Slytherin table where Regulus sat, a self-satisfied smirk plastered on his face. From a distance, Sirius Black watched, his fists clenched, he looked as if he was about to blow up any moment. Remus Lupin, always the rational one, let out a soft sigh.
"Let’s not be too quick to judge. He might surprise us," he suggested. Yet, the marauders remained doubtful, their imaginations already spinning tales of rivalry, convinced that Regulus would only continue the infamous legacy of the Black family.
Arthur's eyes accidentally locked with Merlin's as the marauders observed the Slytherin table, a moment thick with unspoken tension. Suddenly, Arthur's cheeks flush with embarrassment, prompting him to look away, a flurry of confusion swirling within him. He feels a strange mix of irritation and attraction, yet he remains oblivious to the true nature of his feelings, convincing himself that he simply disliked Merlin.
The sorting ceremony has wrapped up, and Arthur Pendragon, along with his fellow marauders, strides eagerly toward the Gryffindor common room, their hearts still racing from the thrill of the day.
"Can you believe we’re finally third years?" Arthur exclaims, his eyes shining with excitement.
"I heard we get to visit Hogsmeade this year!" Peter chimes in, a beaming smile plastered across his face.
"And we can finally use the Marauder's Map! Just wait until we pull off some legendary pranks!" James adds, playfully nudging Sirius in the shoulder. Laughter fills the air as they weave through the twisting corridors, their voices bouncing off the stone walls, each step drawing them closer to the warmth and camaraderie of their cherished common room.
As Arthur Pendragon walks through the halls, he finds himself swept up in a tide of memories, pariculary the moment his eyes locked with the cunning Slytherin, Merlin. The intensity of that brief eye contact sends a shiver down his spine, but he quickly pushes that thought aside. Instead, he convinces himself that he feels nothing but hatred toward Merlin, even as the truth simmers just beneath the surface, tempting him with the possibility of something more profound.
As night falls, Arthur and the marauders cozy up in their warm dormitories, with the moonlight softly shining through the windows. One by one, they snuggle into their fluffy blankets, letting go of the day's adventures as they enjoy the comfort of their favorite place. The gentle sounds of rustling sheets and quiet chats fill the room, making a calm vibe where laughter and whispers mix together. With the day's worries fading away, they shut their eyes, giving in to the warm hug of sleep, likely dreaming about their exciting pranks and the strong bonds of friendship that connect them.