The train slowed as it neared Hogsmeade Station, steam billowing from the engine as the rhythmic clatter of wheels against tracks faded. Outside the window, the night sky stretched endlessly, a canvas of stars twinkling over rolling hills and dense, shadowed forests. The air was crisp, carrying the scent of wet earth and pine.
As the train came to a stop, students bustled through the corridors, eager to disembark. The trio—Harry, Hermione, and Draco—stepped onto the platform, their breaths misting in the cold night air. The sound of excited chatter filled the space, mingling with the occasional hoot of an owl or the soft whinny of a waiting carriage-pulled thestral.
Then came the booming voice of Hagrid.
"Firs'-years! Firs'-years over here!"
The half-giant stood towering over the crowd, his tangled beard illuminated by the soft glow of lanterns. He waved his massive hand, ushering the first-years toward the docks where a fleet of small boats bobbed against the water's surface.
"Three to a boat!" Hagrid called.
The trio climbed into one of the wooden vessels, the cool water lapping against its sides as it rocked slightly under their weight. Draco, ever the pureblood aristocrat, dusted off his robes before settling down, clearly uncomfortable with the idea of traveling by boat.
As the boats drifted forward, slicing through the dark lake, Draco turned to Harry, his tone shifting into that of a tour guide.
"Hogwarts was founded over a thousand years ago by the four greatest witches and wizards of their time—Gryffindor, Slytherin, Ravenclaw, and Hufflepuff. The castle itself is enchanted to be unplottable, which means no Muggle or outsider can stumble upon it. It's built atop a vast network of dungeons and secret tunnels, many of which remain undiscovered."
Harry, or rather Clark, listened with mild amusement. He had seen Hogwarts in movies, read about it in books, but hearing about it firsthand made it feel different—more real, more alive. Draco's knowledge was extensive, and for a moment, Clark considered the possibility of keeping him around as a sidekick. The kid was arrogant, but his insight into the wizarding world was undeniably valuable.
Their boat sailed smoothly across the lake, the water eerily still. Then, as they neared a jagged cliffside, Hagrid called out, "Duck!"
The trio instinctively lowered their heads as the boat passed beneath a rocky archway. When they emerged, the sight before them stole Clark's breath away.
Hogwarts.
The castle stood in all its glory, towering over the lake with its countless spires and turrets illuminated against the night sky. Golden lights shimmered from its grand windows, casting a reflection upon the water below. The sheer majesty of it surpassed any cinematic depiction he had ever seen.
"This is…amazing," Clark muttered, genuinely impressed.
Draco smirked. "Told you. There's nothing like Hogwarts."
As the boats reached the shore, the first-years clambered onto solid ground. Hagrid led them up a winding stone path, the castle looming ever larger with each step. Finally, they arrived before a set of massive, ornate doors. With a heavy fist, Hagrid knocked.
BANG. BANG. BANG.
The doors swung open, revealing Professor McGonagall.
"Welcome to Hogwarts," she said, her sharp gaze sweeping over the gathered students. "In a moment, you will enter the Great Hall and be sorted into your Houses. Follow me."
Clark's eyes roamed over her, taking in every detail—the way her tight robes clung to her form, the way her glasses sat perfectly on her sharp, intelligent features. She carried herself with authority, but beneath that stern exterior, he saw something else—something alluring.
She wasn't young, but there was something irresistibly sensual about her confidence. The way she moved, the way she commanded respect—it only made Clark's imagination run wild. He wondered what lay beneath those layers of fabric, how she would look if she let her hair down, if she allowed herself to embrace the desires that surely lurked beneath her composed exterior.
His mind wandered to forbidden thoughts, picturing those firm curves beneath the strict professor's robes, imagining the contrast of her usual discipline melting away into something much more primal. He smirked slightly, amused by his own thoughts.
This wasn't just a school year. This was going to be an experience—one that, if he played his cards right, could be far more interesting than just learning magic.
To be continued…