As the heavy oak doors swung open, the scent hit him: old parchment, beeswax, and a hint of something like ozone after a thunderstorm. Professor McGonagall stood there, her expression as sharp as her spectacles.
When it was finally his turn, the Great Hall fell silent. The Sorting Hat was dropped onto his head, sliding down past his eyes.
"The Sorting is a ceremony," she began, but Leo’s eyes were already wandering. He noticed a suit of armor slightly shifting its weight and a ghost—silvery and translucent—drifting through a wall as if it were mist. As the heavy oak doors swung open, the
"Ah," a small, gravelly voice whispered in his ear. "Plenty of curiosity, but you don't seek glory. You want to know how the gears of the world turn, don't you?"
The Great Lake was as dark as spilled ink, but Leo didn't mind. While the other first-years were whispering about dragons and Dumbledore, he was staring at the castle’s silhouette. To him, Hogwarts didn't look like a school; it looked like a giant puzzle waiting to be solved. The Sorting Hat was dropped onto his head,
The search for usually brings up images of the Great Hall and mentions of ancient magic, but let’s look at a story from a different perspective—the first day of a student who doesn’t quite fit the "Chosen One" mold.
"Then you'll need a house that values the climb as much as the view," the Hat bellowed for the whole room to hear. "Ah," a small, gravelly voice whispered in his ear
Leo gripped the edges of the stool. "I just want to see everything," he thought.