A CASTLE BEYOND DREAMS
CHAPTER 22: A CASTLE BEYOND DREAMS
The familiar hum of excitement filled the train as it began to slow, the majestic silhouette of Hogwarts looming on the horizon. I reached into my trunk and pulled out a set of fresh robes, shaking them out carefully before slipping them on. The rich, tailored fabric fit perfectly—soft, comfortable, and surprisingly lightweight.
"Maybe a bit impractical for everyday wear," I mused to myself, smoothing the creases. "But still, galleons well spent. I’ve always wanted to wear robes like these. I’ll make them work."
With a glance over to the small, dignified owl perched on my arm, I pulled out a few treats from my pocket. "Alright, Artemis, Auntie said they'd take you up to the Owlery when we arrive. You be a good girl, okay?" I stroked her soft feathers affectionately as she gave a small, approving nip to my finger before hopping into her travel cage.
Once I made sure Artemis was settled, I stepped off the train, my boots crunching against the gravel of the station. The cool night air nipped at my skin, and I pulled my robes tighter as I turned towards the sound of a booming voice.
"Firs' years, this way! Firs' years, over 'ere!"
The voice, deep and unmistakable, belonged to none other than Rubeus Hagrid, Hogwarts' Keeper of Keys and Grounds. As I moved closer with the crowd, the half-giant’s towering form came into full view. He must have stood at least twelve feet tall, with wild, untamed hair and a beard that nearly swallowed his entire face. His massive hands were larger than some of our heads, and his thick arms looked like they could break a tree in half with one swing. Intimidating didn’t even begin to describe him, especially standing among a group of gawking eleven-year-olds.
Still, I couldn’t help but chuckle to myself, knowing that behind the intimidating exterior, Hagrid was as gentle as they come—unless you dared insult Dumbledore, that is. The man had a tendency to get overenthusiastic about dangerous creatures, though. Acromantulas, Cerberuses, dragons, and whatever other bizarre cross-breeds he decided were "adorable" pets.
"Firs' years, follow me!" Hagrid bellowed once more, urging the rest of us to gather.
We followed like a bunch of baby chicks trailing behind their mother hen. The image of our small group shuffling after the giant amused me, and I stifled a laugh as we made our way down a winding path. The ground sloped steeply before us, leading to a misty lake where a line of small boats bobbed gently on the water.
"No more'n four to a boat!" Hagrid called out as he pointed to the line of vessels.
I walked over and hopped onto the nearest one, the wood creaking slightly underfoot. Moments later, two others joined me. The first was a girl with striking long black hair that fell sleekly past her shoulders. Her dark green eyes gleamed with curiosity, and her high cheekbones gave her a certain regal confidence. She seemed unfazed by the journey so far, settling into the boat with an air of self-assurance.
The other newcomer was a boy who looked far less comfortable. His wavy, sandy blonde hair flopped over his forehead, and his bright blue eyes were wide with apprehension as he carefully stepped into the boat. He looked like he didn’t trust the small vessel to hold him, and as soon as we began to drift, he gripped the sides with white-knuckled hands, his nervousness plain as day.
The boat swayed gently as we pushed off, gliding smoothly across the lake. The dark waters shimmered under the moonlight, and I took a deep breath, feeling a mix of anticipation and awe. The castle, now fully visible on the distant cliffs, seemed even grander than I’d imagined. Its countless turrets and towers reached towards the sky, lights flickering warmly from the windows. This was it—Hogwarts. The place I had dreamed of for years.
"Pretty incredible, huh?" I said, breaking the silence as I glanced at my boatmates. The girl nodded, a small smile tugging at her lips.
"It's even better than the pictures in the books," she said softly, her voice smooth and confident, like someone used to being in control. "I’ve always wanted to come here. It feels like... destiny."
The nervous boy beside her, still gripping the boat’s edges, gave a shaky laugh. "I just hope we don’t capsize before we get there," he muttered under his breath, his voice trembling slightly.
I grinned, trying to put him at ease. "Don't worry, these boats have probably been making this trip for centuries. Hagrid wouldn't let anything happen to us." I glanced back at the towering figure guiding the boats from his own vessel. "Besides, if we do fall in, I bet Hagrid could fish us out in no time."
The boy's laugh was a bit more genuine this time, though he still clung to the side of the boat like it might disappear beneath him. The girl, on the other hand, leaned forward, her eyes fixed on the castle with an almost fierce determination.
"What house do you think you’ll be in?" she asked, her voice curious but direct.
I hesitated for a moment, considering. "No idea, really," I admitted. "Maybe Gryffindor. That’s the house for brave people, right?"
She nodded thoughtfully. "I’m hoping for Ravenclaw. They say it’s where the cleverest witches and wizards go. It would make sense for me."
The boy, finally relaxing a little, piped up. "My mum was in Hufflepuff. She says it’s the house for the loyal and hardworking. I think I'd like that."
As the castle loomed closer, our conversation died down, each of us lost in our own thoughts. The journey across the lake had a magical quality to it—one that seemed to silence any lingering nerves or doubts. Whatever happened next, we were about to step into a world unlike anything we'd ever known. Hogwarts was waiting.
As we neared the shore, Hagrid’s voice called out once more, echoing across the water. "We’re nearly there, everyone! Get ready!"
With a soft bump, our boat reached the dock, and we were finally at Hogwarts. The excitement that had been bubbling within me swelled, and as we climbed out of the boat, I felt a rush of anticipation. This was it—the start of something incredible.
I glanced over at the two in the boat with me and figured it was time to break the ice. "Hi, I’m Ares Bones," I said smoothly, offering a friendly smile to both of them. "Looks like we’ll be spending the next seven years together, so it’s nice to meet you."
The girl, who had maintained her air of confidence throughout the boat ride, raised an eyebrow. "Bones? Like Amelia Bones, the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement?" she asked, her voice tinged with surprise.
"That’s right," I replied, keeping my tone light but guarded. I loved my aunt, but I wasn’t oblivious to the fact that her position came with a heavy burden of enemies—people who’d do anything to get close to her or, worse, use me to do it. Amelia Bones had sent plenty of dark wizards to Azkaban, and that kind of work didn’t go without retaliation.
The girl blinked, clearly impressed but not backing down from her confident demeanor. She puffed out her chest slightly as she introduced herself. "Victoria Travers, heir of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Travers," she said proudly, her voice holding a certain edge.
I raised an eyebrow. "Ah, a Sacred Twenty-Eight heir, then?" I responded, more out of observation than judgment.
"A what?" came the voice of the nervous boy beside us, who was still trying to find his footing on the rocky dock.
I turned toward him, already guessing the answer. "You must be muggle-born, then?"
The boy nodded, a bit more comfortable now that the boat ride was over. "Yeah, that’s right. My name’s James Calaway. It’s nice to meet you both." His tone was polite, but there was a certain apprehension as he looked between me and Victoria.
I saw Victoria’s face shift slightly, a flicker of a frown appearing at the edges of her lips when James said his piece. I recognized the look, and it confirmed something I suspected.
‘Ah, so she's been fed that pure-blood supremacy nonsense,’ I thought quickly.
"Well, James," I began, giving him a slight nod of reassurance, "the Sacred Twenty-Eight is a title given to families listed in the ‘Pure-Blood Directory,’ a book that names twenty-eight wizarding families supposedly free of any muggle or muggle-born lineage. The Travers family is part of that list. As the eldest daughter or perhaps the only child, Victoria is the heir to that name."
James looked bewildered for a moment. "Wait... people really care about that sort of thing?" he asked, clearly taken aback.
Victoria huffed, crossing her arms. "Hmph! And from your tone, I gather you don’t think much of it," she said, her voice sharp with offense.
I shrugged casually, not wanting to get too deep into the politics of it but also not willing to dance around the issue. "I don't dislike it, exactly. I just don’t see the point if it leads to inbreeding and narrow-mindedness. There's more to magic—and life—than bloodlines."
"What did you say?" Victoria nearly screeched, her voice drawing some attention from the other students still disembarking from their boats. She quickly turned red as she noticed the eyes on her, sitting down again with an embarrassed scowl.
I smiled lightly, keeping my tone calm. "Look, I’m not against the idea of preserving tradition or heritage, but if it means limiting the potential of future generations, I don’t see the point. Magic is about growth and learning, not about who your grandparents were."
Victoria looked like she might explode any second, her lips pressed into a thin line. Before the tension could escalate any further, Hagrid’s booming voice echoed through the mist, calling out for everyone to keep their heads down as we approached the castle.
I chuckled under my breath, watching everyone nervously duck, especially the first years.
James looked at me, confused. "What’s so funny?" he asked, a bit awkwardly.
"He’s a half-giant, James," I said, grinning. "Of course he needs to duck. But we’re eleven—none of us are even close to his size. We’re fine."
James glanced around sheepishly, realizing I was right. Victoria, still sulking, shot me a glare, but I couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of the situation.
As we passed under the low-hanging stone archway, though, all joking stopped. The sight of Hogwarts took my breath away. The castle, with its countless turrets and towering walls, stood proudly on the cliff, its many windows glowing warmly against the cool evening sky. The reflection of the castle shimmered on the dark surface of the lake, amplifying the grandeur of it all. Pictures and movies didn’t come close to capturing its majesty. This was real, and it was more magnificent than I had ever dreamed.
The three of us disembarked from the boat and followed Hagrid up the winding path toward the massive oak doors of the castle. With each step, I felt the magical energy around us intensify, almost as if the very air was alive with ancient enchantments. It was invigorating, making my pulse quicken and my magical core hum with anticipation.
James glanced at me, his eyes wide with awe. "It’s incredible," he whispered, clearly overwhelmed by the sight before us.
I nodded, smiling. "Yeah, it really is."
Victoria, still somewhat brooding from our earlier exchange, kept her eyes fixed ahead, though I could tell she was just as amazed as the rest of us. Despite whatever pride or prejudice she had, even she couldn’t deny the awe that Hogwarts inspired.
The large doors creaked open, and the warm glow of the Entrance Hall spilled out, inviting us into our new home. I could feel it deep in my bones—this was just the beginning.
As we stood in the corridor, waiting in anticipation, I couldn't shake the feeling of raw magic coursing through the very stones of the castle. It was thick in the air, much more potent than anywhere I’d been before.
‘No wonder Dumbledore stays here all the time,’ I mused. ‘The magic here is insane compared to anywhere else.’
Just then, the doors to the Great Hall were still shut, and the ghosts of the castle began to materialize, passing through the walls as if it were the most natural thing in the world. One of the more prominent figures, a portly ghost dressed in monk-like robes, floated through with a welcoming grin.
"Oh, hello there, new students!" he exclaimed in a cheerful voice. "It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance. I am the Fat Friar. I do hope you consider Hufflepuff! My old house, you know." He beamed at us before floating off towards the hall, disappearing with a casual wave.
I felt a slight tug on my sleeve and turned to see James, his face pale with fear. "Were those... ghosts?" he asked, his voice trembling.
I gave him a reassuring nod. "Yeah, they’re ghosts, but there’s no need to worry. Ghosts can’t interact with their surroundings—they’re harmless. Plus, most of the ones at Hogwarts are supposed to be friendly. The only one you need to be cautious around is Peeves, the poltergeist. If you see a jester in an orange suit, steer clear. He’s known for pulling pranks and getting students into trouble."
James gulped but seemed to relax slightly, though the tension was still evident in his shoulders. "So, do you know how they’re going to sort us?" he asked after a moment, probably hoping for some reassurance that he wasn’t about to be thrown into some terrifying initiation.
I chuckled softly. "From what I’ve heard, they use a magical artifact that was left by the founders of the school. It’s supposed to help figure out which house is the best fit for each of us."
"So we won’t have to do anything?" James asked, his voice hopeful.
I shook my head, trying to ease his nerves. "Nope. Shouldn’t have to do anything. Just stand there, and it'll do the rest."
The relief on his face was almost comical. I could tell he’d been dreading something far worse.
At that moment, the heavy presence of authority arrived as Professor Minerva McGonagall stepped forward, the very image of sternness. Everything about her matched perfectly with how I’d imagined her, thanks to Maggie Smith’s flawless portrayal in the films—tall, with her black hair pulled back into a tight bun, and her emerald-green robes catching the torchlight. She looked exactly like someone you didn’t want to cross.
"Welcome to Hogwarts," she began in her clipped, no-nonsense tone. "I am Professor Minerva McGonagall." Her eyes swept over us, and the room seemed to still. "The banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history, and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rule-breaking will lose points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the House Cup—a great honor."
Her words echoed with the weight of tradition and expectation. She stood there for a few more moments, allowing us time to let it all sink in.
I took the opportunity to glance around at the other students gathered with us. Most of them were buzzing with nervous energy, whispering to one another, exchanging excited or anxious looks. I noticed I was taller than nearly everyone, standing at 5’1" even at eleven. My height gave me a slight advantage—I could see more of the castle and the students around us without craning my neck like some of the others.
Finally, with a soft but authoritative gesture, McGonagall opened the doors, and we stepped into the Great Hall.
If the castle’s exterior had been breathtaking, this was something else entirely. The enchanted ceiling stretched above us, mimicking the night sky, with thousands of candles floating in midair, casting a soft, warm glow over the vast space. Four long tables stretched out before us, each filled with students from every year, all watching us with curious, expectant faces. And at the far end of the hall, the teachers sat at the head table, their eyes trained on us as well.
But what really captured my attention was the Sorting Hat, placed on a stool at the front of the room. It looked weathered, ancient even, but there was something about it—an undeniable magic—that radiated from it.
This was it. The Sorting Hat would decide our houses, and with it, the course of the next seven years of our lives.
As I stepped forward, I couldn't help but feel the weight of every gaze on me. The whispering began almost immediately, and it wasn’t just the students. I could see Dumbledore’s eyes gleaming with curiosity from his seat at the high table, an eyebrow raised in interest. My mind raced as I walked toward the Sorting Hat, but I kept my face neutral, not wanting to show how anxious I really felt.
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Before sitting down, I instinctively pulled out my wand, giving the ancient hat a quick “Scourgify,” watching as the dust and grime disappeared in an instant. The hall went eerily silent at that moment—no one had expected that. I heard a few muffled gasps and saw some of the professors exchange glances, clearly intrigued by the casual display of magic.
I could feel the intensity of the stares from all around. Even McGonagall’s eyes flickered with surprise. But I wasn’t trying to impress anyone—I just really didn’t want to put a dusty old hat on my head. Simple as that.
Satisfied with the cleanliness, I sat down on the stool and placed the now pristine hat on my head.
And then, the world went dark.
Hmm... curious, very curious... a voice echoed in my mind. The Sorting Hat had begun its work. I could feel its presence sifting through my thoughts, my memories.
You’ve got quite a bit in that head of yours. Yes... bravery, loyalty, intelligence... and cunning too. You’re not quite what I expected, young one...
I tried to remain calm, but my heart was pounding. This wasn’t just about being sorted. This was about setting the course of my next seven years. I could feel the Hat poking around more, digging deeper.
Oh, but there’s something more, isn’t there? A past beyond what even you remember... an old soul in a young body, filled with ambition and strength.
The Hat paused, as if considering something. I felt a lump in my throat as the silence stretched on.
You would do well in Slytherin. Yes, there is no doubt about that. Ambition, power... you seek knowledge, and you have a thirst for it that even most Slytherins would admire.
Slytherin? That wasn’t what I’d expected, and certainly not what I’d planned for. I couldn’t imagine myself fitting in there, and I wasn’t sure how my family—or even the others here—would react.
And yet... there’s also loyalty. A deep, unwavering loyalty. You care deeply for those close to you, even if you try not to show it. A difficult choice indeed...
I clenched my hands on the edge of the stool, waiting for the verdict. It felt like an eternity had passed in those few moments.
It is your decision, in the end. Where will you thrive? What path will allow you to become the best version of yourself?
I thought about it. My heart said one thing, but my mind said another. The idea of Slytherin was tempting in a way I hadn’t expected, but I knew, deep down, I didn’t belong there. I wasn’t here for power or manipulation—I had other goals.
“Not Slytherin,” I thought firmly. “Not Slytherin.”
The Hat was silent for a beat, and then I felt it smile—or at least, it felt like a smile.
If you're sure... then best be...
“RAVENCLAW!” the Hat bellowed.
Applause erupted from the Ravenclaw table, and I could feel the rush of excitement as I removed the hat and stood. Relief washed over me, but there was also a thrill of anticipation. This was it. My journey at Hogwarts had truly begun.
As I walked over to the cheering Ravenclaws, I saw Dumbledore smile faintly from the staff table. His eyes twinkled, and I had the strange feeling that he knew much more about me than I had realized.
As I stood and joined the rest of the Ravenclaws, I felt a warmth settle over me—a sense of belonging, of having made the right choice. The chatter of excited first-years filled the Great Hall as we followed the Ravenclaw Prefects, who were effortlessly guiding us through the maze of corridors and staircases that made up Hogwarts Castle.
I couldn’t help but glance at James, who was grinning ear to ear at the Hufflepuff table. He caught my eye and gave me a thumbs-up, clearly happy with where he ended up. Victoria, on the other hand, seemed to be deep in conversation with her new Slytherin housemates. I had a feeling she would thrive there.
The further we walked, the quieter the castle seemed to become. The halls were dimly lit by floating torches, casting eerie shadows on the stone walls. But it wasn’t unsettling—it felt more like stepping into a place rich with history and knowledge, which made my excitement for Ravenclaw grow even more.
"Keep up, first years!" called one of the Ravenclaw Prefects, a tall girl with short, curly hair who looked like she was born for the role. "You're going to love the tower—best view in the whole castle!"
The rest of us exchanged curious glances but quickened our pace. We eventually reached a spiral staircase leading upwards—Ravenclaw Tower. As we ascended, I noticed how the architecture changed. The air felt fresher, and the walls became lined with ancient, intricate tapestries and paintings of famous witches and wizards, most of whom nodded approvingly as we passed.
Finally, we reached a massive door, polished wood with an elegant bronze knocker in the shape of an eagle. The Prefect turned toward us with a knowing smile.
"Now, the fun part—getting into the common room. You have to answer a riddle. No passwords, no exceptions." She rapped the knocker twice, and the eagle’s beak opened to speak:
"What is greater than magic but feared by the wise? It gives power to the small and hope to the hopeless."
The first-years looked at one another in confusion, but I already knew the answer. I had spent countless hours devouring old books on magical philosophy and history.
I stepped forward confidently, meeting the bronze eagle’s gaze. "Knowledge," I said.
The eagle seemed to smile—or as much as an inanimate object could—and the door swung open to reveal the Ravenclaw common room.
A collective gasp filled the air as we stepped inside. The room was breathtaking. High arched windows lined the far wall, offering an expansive view of the darkened grounds and the distant mountains. The ceiling was enchanted, much like the one in the Great Hall, showing a stunning night sky filled with twinkling stars. Bookshelves lined the walls, filled with centuries of knowledge. Plush blue and bronze armchairs were arranged around a roaring fireplace, and delicate silver lamps glowed softly from the corners of the room.
"Welcome to Ravenclaw Tower," the Prefect said, her smile widening. "This will be your home for the next seven years. Get settled in, first-years. The boys' dormitory is up the stairs to the right, and the girls' is on the left. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask one of us Prefects. And remember, wit beyond measure is man’s greatest treasure."
With that, we were left to explore. I made my way toward the boys' dormitory with the other first-years, still buzzing from the day’s events. The door to our room had a bronze plaque on it, reading First Year Boys. Inside, the room was just as cozy as the common room—five four-poster beds, all with thick, midnight-blue curtains and fluffy duvets embroidered with the Ravenclaw crest.
I found my bed, placed my trunk at the foot of it, and collapsed onto the mattress with a sigh. The journey here had been long, and I could feel the fatigue catching up with me. But even as I lay there, staring up at the ceiling, I couldn’t shake the feeling that this was just the beginning.
Tomorrow, classes would begin. And with them, the real adventure of learning magic in the most legendary school in the world. As I closed my eyes, I couldn’t help but feel a thrill run through me once more.
I had made my choice—and now, the magic of Hogwarts was mine to explore.