A girl with bushy brown hair poked her head in.
"Has anyone seen a toad? Neville's lost one."
Adrian looked up, curious.
Ron groaned. "Not again."
"I'll help look," Adrian offered, standing. "Toads are tricky business."
Hermione looked mildly surprised, then smiled politely. "Thank you. I'm Hermione, by the way."
"Adrian," he said, offering his hand. She shook it, and for a brief moment, they shared the kind of awkward, curious glance only children navigating new friendships could manage.
They set off down the corridor, joining a round-faced boy named Neville in the search. Adrian crouched beside a snack trolley and coaxed Trevor out with a biscuit enchanted to smell like pondweed.
"Here you go, mate," he said, handing the toad back.
Neville beamed. "Thanks! You're brilliant!"
Hermione's eyes twinkled. "That was very clever."
Adrian shrugged. "Trevor just needed a snack. Don't we all?"
They shared a small laugh before returning to their compartments, and Hermione gave him a curious glance as she went.
Back in his seat, Ron raised a brow. "She's a bit bossy."
"She's going to be the brightest witch of our age," Adrian murmured.
Harry looked intrigued. "How do you know that?"
Adrian smirked. "Call it a hunch."
As the sky darkened and robes were changed, the train finally began to slow. The trio stepped onto the platform at Hogsmeade. Fog rolled in low and thick, curling around boots and trunks. A massive shadow stood waiting, lantern held high.
"Firs' years! Firs' years over here!" boomed a voice that could rumble mountains.
It was Rubeus Hagrid.
Adrian's breath caught at the sight of him—bigger than life, beard wild as a storm, eyes kind beneath that bush of tangled hair. Hagrid, the gatekeeper of so many futures.
"Right this way!" Hagrid bellowed, grinning at the gathering of first-years. "No more'n four to a boat!"
The group trudged down a winding path, their shoes crunching over gravel and nerves. The air was thick with anticipation and damp with lake mist. And then—
They saw it.
Hogwarts Castle.
It rose from the cliffside like something out of a dream. Towers stretched into the star-studded heavens, windows glowing amber with welcoming light. The Great Hall's tall windows flickered like hearths. The lake mirrored the image in haunting perfection, and for a moment, Adrian felt as though he were looking not at a building, but at destiny incarnate.
No matter how many lives he'd lived, nothing could prepare him for the sheer awe of seeing it again.
They stepped into boats that glided across the still water as though drawn by invisible threads. Adrian shared a boat with Harry, Ron, and Hermione, the soft lapping of water the only sound as they approached the torch-lit harbour.
At last, they reached the shore. Hagrid led them up winding stone steps, and the castle loomed closer with every footfall. Enchanted lanterns lit their way. The great wooden doors creaked open, and Professor McGonagall stood waiting like a sentinel of tradition.
Adrian's heart thumped.
The Sorting Ceremony began with a name that had already caused Adrian's heart to skip: "Granger, Hermione."
She walked up, her bushy hair swishing, determined spark in her eye. The Sorting Hat barely touched her head before shouting: "Gryffindor!"
Polite applause rippled through the hall as Hermione made her way to the Gryffindor table, cheeks pink but eyes alight. Adrian felt a faint smile play on his lips. She belonged there—bright, bold, and not afraid to speak her mind.
Then it happened.
"Lovegood, Adrian."
His name rang out like a chime through the Great Hall.
He walked up steadily, composed but aware of hundreds of eyes on him. He sat down, and the Sorting Hat was lowered over his head.
"Well now," came the Hat's slow, curious drawl. "My, my. What have we here? A rare mind indeed…
"Courage aplenty, yes… even some recklessness if provoked… I see the spark of a Gryffindor, I do. And yet…"
Adrian said nothing, letting the Hat peel back his layers like parchment.
"Oh… what's this? The void? My dear boy, you've touched something… ancient. Your mind—it's clearer than most. Sharper. There's understanding here far beyond your years. Ravenclaw would welcome such intellect. And your love of mystery, your desire to protect your sister… mm, yes, yes. You'd thrive there."
Adrian whispered softly, "Then Ravenclaw it is. Where I can protect what matters."
The Hat paused just a moment longer, almost reverently.
"RAVENCLAW!"
A chorus of applause erupted from the table clad in blue and bronze. Students welcomed him with eager claps and curious glances.
He walked over, feeling oddly at peace.
The Ravenclaw table was peppered with students who looked both inquisitive and serene. Some were poised like aristocrats in storybooks, others peered at him with muggle-born wonder. But all bore the signature gleam of minds forever chasing stars.
Adrian sat down and breathed.
From the Gryffindor table, Hermione gave him a small, thoughtful nod. He returned it with a wink.
The Sorting continued. Names were called, fates sealed, and houses grown. When "Potter, Harry" was called, the Great Hall held its breath.
The Hat seemed to debate a while, but eventually roared, "GRYFFINDOR!"—causing the table to cheer wildly. Ron joined shortly after.
Adrian chuckled to himself. Different houses, yes—but the stories of their lives were already brushing like pages in a well-worn book.
As the Sorting drew to a close, Dumbledore rose.
"Welcome!" he beamed. "Welcome to another year at Hogwarts. I have but a few words to say: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!"
The Hall burst into laughter.
Adrian leaned in to a fellow Ravenclaw—an older girl with a calm face and a badge that read Prefect. "Is that normal?"
She smiled. "With Dumbledore? Perfectly."
With a wave of his hands, the golden plates filled with food—an endless, delightful feast. Roast chicken, potatoes, treacle tart, pumpkin juice. Adrian tried a little of everything, feeling joy simmer quietly in his chest.
Fred and George Weasley, further down at the Gryffindor table, were already levitating peas into each other's mouths. One of them whispered a joke that made Lee Jordan choke on his pumpkin juice. Across the hall, Draco Malfoy looked sour that Harry Potter had gotten more applause than him.
The night swirled into a dream. Stories flew over food, laughter lit the hall, and Adrian soaked it in—this grand dance of magic and life.
Eventually, they were guided by the Prefects to their common rooms. Ravenclaw's entrance required answering a riddle, which their Prefect solved with ease.
They stepped into a circular room of silvery-blue tones, with bookcases that curved like spiral galaxies, and stars twinkling on the domed ceiling enchanted to show the constellations.
Adrian paused, gazing at the surroundings. He could picture Luna here already—a year from now. She would shine in this place.
He climbed into bed, tucked beneath blankets of midnight blue, and looked out the window at the moon.
So many lives lived, so many stories yet to come.
Tonight, he was Adrian Lovegood.
And he was home.
----------------------------------------------------
Author's Note:
Adrian's house placement was a delicate choice. While Gryffindor offered a familiar arc—where bravery rules and heroes thrive—Ravenclaw calls to his deeper nature. It's not simply a house of intellect but of wit, individuality, and curiosity. Its halls echo with the footfalls of dreamers and philosophers—people who seek not glory, but understanding. With the added layer of his experience in the void, granting him accelerated comprehension, Ravenclaw provides the right canvas for his gifts to blossom.
And, more importantly—Luna will be there soon. And a good brother guards his moon from the shadows.