New beginnings
Chapter 7: New Beginnings
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The magical tug of the portkey abruptly released Aster, and the world around him shifted with dizzying speed. He steadied himself as his feet met solid ground, the weight of the transition settling with a moment of discomfort. Hogwarts, he noted, was just as imposing in person as the rumors suggested.
He stood in a wide, stone-floored corridor, an expanse of ancient walls and polished wood. The low hum of distant conversations reached his ears, reminding him that he had arrived in the middle of the school day. Students were likely in classes, their footsteps echoing from the hallways, but there was no sign of them at this particular moment.
Professor McGonagall stood waiting for him, her stern eyes already observing him with quiet judgment. She adjusted her glasses as she appraised Aster, her voice even but laced with an undercurrent of curiosity. “Mister Black, welcome to Hogwarts. I trust your journey was uneventful?”
Aster offered a nod but said little in response. The portkey had been smooth enough, though the heavy weight of the secrecy surrounding his arrival still loomed over him. “As uneventful as could be expected.”
“Good. Follow me, please,” she instructed, turning on her heel and moving down the corridor.
Aster followed, his boots clicking lightly on the stone floor. He wore muggle civilian clothes—dark jeans, a black t-shirt, a simple jacket over it, and sturdy boots, his usual preference for comfort and mobility. A small black chain looped from his front pocket to his back, an accessory he didn’t bother to hide. His attire was simple, but the casualness of it felt at odds with the gravity of the situation. He wasn’t a regular student, yet here he was, walking into the most famous magical school in the world as if he was just another kid ready to attend.
“You’re quite fortunate, Mister Black,” McGonagall continued as they walked. “The Sorting Ceremony is typically an event for the beginning of the year, but in your case, we’ve arranged for a private one. You’ll be sorted into one of our houses, of course, but I must caution you that we expect you to act in accordance with the values of your house, no matter where you end up.”
Aster remained silent, unsure how to respond. He had heard about the four houses—Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin—and their respective values, but in truth, he had little personal interest in them. This was simply part of the cover. It wasn’t as though he had a pressing desire to belong to any particular group. He would do what was necessary to stay out of the spotlight and complete his mission.
They arrived at the entrance to the Great Hall, where the Sorting Ceremony was typically held. McGonagall turned to him. “If you’ll follow me, Mister Black, we’ll get you settled for the Sorting Hat.”
Aster nodded, and she led him down a narrow hallway toward a small, private room—far from the usual bustling crowd of students. Inside, he found the Sorting Hat sitting on a wooden stool, looking as ordinary as any other hat. McGonagall gestured for him to sit in the chair placed before it.
“Don’t worry, Mister Black,” she said with a faint smile, “The Sorting Hat is quite accurate, and it will find the best house for you.”
Aster took a seat, feeling the weight of the moment settle upon him. It was a strange thing, this sorting. A magical hat that supposedly had the power to discern the best house for each student. He had no particular preference, but he didn’t expect much resistance.
The Sorting Hat rested on his head. For a moment, there was nothing but silence. Then, a voice—deep and ancient—spoke inside his mind.
"Ah, another one with ambition... but there is something else here. Cunning, yes, and a deep resourcefulness that will serve you well... and you’ll never shy away from a challenge. Hmmm... Slytherin will be your home, I think. Yes, Slytherin."
Aster didn’t flinch. He had known it would be Slytherin. The qualities the Hat had mentioned were the very things that defined him—his ability to think on his feet, to adapt, and to work toward the long-term goal with patience and persistence. He didn’t have much of a choice when it came to where he belonged.
The Hat was removed from his head, and McGonagall smiled faintly. “Slytherin, then. Welcome, Mister Black.”
Aster stood and nodded in acknowledgment, his expression calm, though inside, he felt the stirring of anticipation. Slytherin would serve his purpose well, he knew. It would allow him to stay hidden, and it would make it easier to navigate the intricate politics of the school without drawing too much attention.
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Aster followed McGonagall through the winding corridors of the castle. She spoke little, guiding him through passages he could only assume were meant for staff and new students. The walls of Hogwarts were heavy with history, each portrait of former headmasters and students staring down at them as they passed. There was a distinct air of magic in the halls, an almost palpable hum, as though the very stones were alive with enchantments and whispered secrets.
They passed by several classrooms, some of which had open doors, allowing Aster a glimpse of students absorbed in their lessons. He noted the diversity of the students—students of every shape and size, many of them talking excitedly to one another, while others studied quietly. He barely paid them any mind. He wasn’t here to make friends.
McGonagall led him up several staircases, each one creaking with age, until they arrived at a small, well-kept office tucked away in a quiet corner of the castle. It was here, McGonagall explained, that Aster would stay for the time being, before being integrated into his House’s dormitory later in the week.
Once the brief tour was over, McGonagall escorted Aster to the Great Hall. The giant wooden doors were heavy, etched with intricate designs of magical beasts and ancient symbols. As they swung open, Aster was met with the sight of hundreds of students, already seated in their respective House tables, eating and chatting in lively conversation.
Aster's eyes briefly scanned the hall. The ceiling, as legend had it, was enchanted to look like the sky, and tonight, it was a vibrant deep blue with scattered stars twinkling in the air. A long wooden table at the front of the hall held several staff members, including a man with long, silvery hair and an impressive beard—likely the headmaster. His sharp eyes twinkled behind his glasses as he observed the crowd.
McGonagall led Aster toward the staff table, where Dumbledore nodded a greeting before standing. The room quieted almost immediately, and every eye turned toward the headmaster.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Dumbledore’s voice rang out, warm and welcoming, “Before we begin our evening meal, I have the pleasure of introducing a new student to our ranks. Please join me in welcoming Mister Aster Black, who has joined us at Hogwarts this year.”
There was a slight murmur from the students, but nothing that suggested any familiarity with the name. Dumbledore gave Aster a small, knowing smile, before continuing. “Mister Black will be joining Slytherin House, and we are certain he will be an asset to the school. We wish him the best of luck as he embarks on his journey here.”
The Great Hall was alive with the hum of conversation as Aster took his seat at the Slytherin table, which was positioned on the far left of the room. McGonagall had guided him here, and though he had expected a far more formal reception, the Slytherins were, for the most part, quiet as they sized him up from across the table.
Aster’s eyes briefly scanned the room, settling on a few notable faces—some older students with proud and imperious looks, others who seemed more interested in their food than anyone else. But his focus quickly shifted when a small group of students shifted aside to make room for him.
Three students, all familiar from the whispered conversations he'd heard on his arrival, were sitting together near the middle of the table. Daphne Greengrass, Tracy Davis, and Blaise Zabini. They were all second-year students, much like him, but there was an undeniable aura of sophistication about them. Even in their school uniforms, they carried themselves with the sort of confidence that suggested they were far beyond their years.
Daphne, a striking blonde with cool, calculating eyes, caught his gaze and nodded politely, gesturing to the empty space next to her. “Here’s fine,” she said smoothly, her voice surprisingly warm given her composed exterior.
Aster raised an eyebrow, but decided to take the offered seat. It wasn’t as though he had many other options. As he settled down beside her, Tracy, who had dark brown hair tied back in a neat ponytail, looked over and gave him a quick, but welcoming smile.
“New to the castle, huh?” Tracy asked, breaking the slight tension in the air. “I think we’ve seen just about every new face by now, but I don’t recall yours.”
Aster gave her a short nod. “That’s me. Aster Black.”
There was a brief moment of silence as Tracy looked between the others at the table, before Blaise, a tall, dark-haired student with sharp features, turned his gaze toward him. He had a laid-back air about him, his hands folded casually in front of him. "Black, huh?" he mused. "Guess that explains the mysterious vibe. It's a pleasure to meet you." Blaise offered him a small smile.
Aster nodded in acknowledgment, his attention briefly caught by Daphne’s curious look. There was something about her that seemed to draw him in, a quiet strength beneath her calm exterior.
Daphne studied him for a moment, her piercing grey eyes not revealing much of anything. Then, after a beat, she spoke again. “I heard the name. Quite the reputation already.” Her words were light, but there was an edge to them that suggested she wasn't simply talking about the tournament. It was as if she knew something more, something that Aster wasn’t willing to share just yet.
“The Chimera fight?” Aster asked, his voice low as he took a sip of his drink. "Just part of the job."
Daphne gave him a knowing smile, but there was something else in her eyes, a flicker of interest. “I see,” she replied simply, before adding with a slightly teasing edge, “Well, Slytherin certainly knows how to pick their champions, doesn’t it?”
Aster met her gaze, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Something like that.”
The conversation soon shifted, with Blaise and Tracy joining in to discuss the latest gossip circulating among the student body. But throughout the exchange, Aster couldn’t shake the feeling that he was being carefully observed—not just by Daphne, but by the group as a whole. It was as if they were all silently testing the waters, deciding whether he was someone worth keeping an eye on or simply another fleeting student passing through the ranks.
As the meal progressed, Aster felt the weight of the eyes upon him, though they weren't as blatant as he had expected. It was clear that the Slytherins, while calculating, were at least willing to accept him as one of their own for the time being.
Finally, the long-awaited moment arrived. The feast began to wind down, and Aster found himself once more caught up in the low buzz of conversation. Dumbledore rose from his seat, the soft clinking of silverware settling to an almost eerie quiet as the Headmaster raised his hands for attention.
“Before we conclude tonight’s festivities,” Dumbledore began with a smile, his eyes twinkling, “I would like to welcome a very special new addition to our school. Aster Black, who has joined Slytherin House this year, and who we are sure will make a significant mark here at Hogwarts.”
Aster stiffened at the mention of his name, all eyes in the hall now trained on him. He forced himself to remain calm, his face an impassive mask. Dumbledore's announcement was met with polite applause, and a few curious stares followed him as he sat back down, though he tried to ignore the discomfort creeping into his bones.
The applause died down quickly, and soon the room returned to its usual din, but Aster couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that he was being scrutinized by more than just his Housemates. The weight of the situation had only just begun to sink in. His cover was already compromised, and he hadn’t even settled into the castle yet.
“Quite the entrance,” Blaise said with a small grin, clearly amused. “At least you’ve already got their attention.”
Aster’s lips curled into a small, noncommittal smile. “Let’s hope it doesn’t work against me.”
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