Chapter 42. To The Dormitories
As the golden plates slowly emptied and the last bites of treacle tart vanished from the students' plates, Professor Dumbledore rose from his seat. The hall quieted instantly.
"Now that our bellies are full and our hearts hopefully warmed," he said, his eyes twinkling behind his half-moon spectacles, "a few important announcements before we send you off to your respective beds."
Thomas leaned slightly forward, curious.
"The forest on the grounds—known as the Forbidden Forest—is strictly off-limits to all students," Dumbledore continued. "Unless, of course, you feel an overwhelming desire to encounter things much keener than you are about having dinner."
A few nervous laughs rippled through the crowd.
"Our caretaker, Mr. Filch, also asked me to remind you that magic is not to be used in the corridors between classes, nor should anyone tamper with the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side unless you wish to die in a most excruciating fashion."
Fred turned to Thomas and whispered, "Cheerful school, huh?"
Thomas smirked, keeping his gaze on the headmaster.
"And finally, I'm pleased to introduce our new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor John Samber."
A man with sharp features and dark robes stood briefly to polite applause.
Thomas eyed him thoughtfully. A few seats down the Gryffindor table, a fifth-year boy leaned in and muttered, "Hope he lasts longer than the last one. That position's cursed, they say. No one's kept it for more than a year in decades."
Thomas raised an eyebrow. A cursed position? That was… intriguing.
Once Dumbledore sat down, the hall stirred to life again, with chairs scraping and students standing.
A Gryffindor prefect—an elegant fifth-year girl with curly dark hair—stood and raised her voice just enough to be heard over the commotion. "First-years! First-years, over here please!"
She waited until Thomas, Fred, George, and the other new Gryffindors gathered around her.
"My name is Cristina Rown," she said with a warm smile. "I'm your house prefect. I'll lead you to the Gryffindor common room and dormitories. Stay close. Hogwarts can be a maze."
She turned briskly, leading them out of the Great Hall. The moment they stepped into the vast corridors of the castle, Thomas felt like he had entered a dream.
Portraits lined the walls, some asleep, some waving. Suits of armor stood tall and ominous in alcoves, and the staircases moved.
"They move?" Thomas whispered.
Cristina glanced back. "Yes. You get used to it. Just don't daydream while walking up, or you might find yourself in a completely different tower."
Fred and George exchanged looks.
"Imagine pranking someone with that," George whispered.
"Like leading Filch to a dead-end," Fred added.
Thomas chuckled. The walk to Gryffindor Tower felt like an adventure in itself. They crossed a narrow bridge, passed through a hall filled with enchanted windows showing changing weather patterns, and finally climbed a spiraling staircase until they reached a portrait of a large woman in pink silk.
"The Fat Lady," Cristina explained. "She guards our entrance."
"Password?" the portrait asked in a musical voice.
"Breaking glass," Cristina said clearly.
The portrait swung forward to reveal a round hole in the wall.
"Don't forget the password," Cristina added. "If you do, you'll be locked out. Trust me, it's not fun to sleep in the corridor."
They all laughed nervously and climbed through the hole.
The Gryffindor common room was warm and cozy, with a blazing fireplace, deep red tapestries, and plush armchairs. The golden light flickered across the room, and Thomas felt a sudden wash of comfort.
"This is home now," he whispered to himself.
Cristina pointed toward a staircase. "Boys' dormitory is up this way. Girls, follow me."
Thomas, Fred, George, and another boy named Lee Jordan climbed the stairs to their dorm. It was circular, with four-poster beds draped in red curtains and a window looking out over the dark grounds.
"This is brilliant," George said, throwing his bag onto a bed.
"Reckon this'll be our spot for the next seven years," Fred added.
Thomas chose the bed near the window and sat down slowly.
He didn't say it out loud, but in that moment—tired, full, and surrounded by soft candlelight—he finally felt it: he belonged.
Lee yawned. "Well, lads, I'd say we've had quite the day."
Fred threw a pillow at him. "You haven't seen anything yet."
As they laughed and teased, Thomas leaned back on his bed, letting the sounds of camaraderie wash over him. Hogwarts might be filled with mysteries and magic, but this… this felt like the beginning of something wonderful.
And tomorrow, it would all truly begin.