After wrapping up the semester’s important announcements, Dumbledore seemed to revert to his usual whimsical self—the slightly offbeat but amiable headmaster. His wizard’s hat sat at a lopsided angle atop his head as he cheerfully decred,

  "Before bed, let us all sing the school song together!"

  The moment his words fell, Ivan clearly noticed a shift in the Great Hall. The professors’ expressions darkened as if they had just swallowed a mouthful of spoiled pumpkin juice. Several upper-year students looked as though they were suffering from severe constipation.

  Undeterred, Dumbledore waved his wand with enthusiasm. A long, golden ribbon unfurled from its tip, twisting like a serpent as it formed the lyrics in midair.

  Like an orchestra conductor, he guided the entire school into a chaotic rendition of the Hogwarts anthem.

  "Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts, please teach us something new! Whether we be old and bald or young with scabby knees, our heads could do with filling with some interesting stuff!"

  The singing quickly descended into pure anarchy—different tunes cshing into one another, merging into a cacophony of wildly conflicting styles. The Weasley twins took it upon themselves to turn the chaos into complete and utter bedm, deliberately leading people off-key.

  Ivan, unwilling to be left out, joined the ruckus with a few improvised lines of his own. Strangely enough, once the final notes faded, he found himself thinking that the chaotic medley actually had a peculiar charm to it.

  Had his musical taste always been this questionable?

  To his relief, he was not alone in this sentiment. Dumbledore, the venerable white wizard, looked utterly moved by the performance, dabbing at the corners of his eyes as if he had just witnessed the most soul-stirring symphony of the century. It took him a long moment to recover before he finally dismissed the students for the night.

  Ivan followed the stream of Gryffindor first-years, climbing the spiral staircases up to the highest floors of the castle.

  At the end of a long corridor, Percy stopped in front of a portrait of a rather plump woman. Before anyone could ask questions, the woman within the frame shifted position and solemnly demanded,

  "Password?"

  "Dragon dung," Percy responded crisply.

  The Fat Lady nodded in approval and swung aside, revealing a round entrance hole behind her. Ivan knew this led to the Gryffindor common room.

  Upon stepping inside, he realized the space was far rger than he had expected.

  Scarlet banners bearing the proud lion of Gryffindor hung from the ceiling. The spacious common room was neatly arranged with several long tables, cushioned armchairs scattered underneath them. To the left, a grand firepce crackled warmly, casting flickering golden light that warded off the nighttime chill.

  The Gryffindor dormitories were divided into rooms for five students each. Ivan’s assigned room contained five rge, four-poster beds, their curtains drawn back invitingly. Beneath each bed, neatly stacked luggage and school supplies rested in careful order.

  Lacking any relevant memories, Ivan found himself completely lost as to which bed or trunk belonged to him.

  Just as he was contempting waiting for his dormmates to pick their beds first, a gray-and-white owl suddenly swooped down from the western railing, nding gracefully on his shoulder. The bird affectionately nipped at his cheek.

  "Maca?" Ivan froze, the name surfacing in his mind out of nowhere.

  "Hoot hoot~" The owl hooted in response, as if confirming its name.

  "Well, whether you are or not, I’m calling you Maca from now on." Ivan chuckled, scratching lightly at the owl’s neck. Maca narrowed its eyes in pleasure.

  With Maca’s guidance, Ivan quickly located his own bed—it was the one against the western wall, with minimal belongings aside from bedding, a few sets of robes, daily essentials, and the required textbooks. A small pque beside the bed bore his name: Ivan Hals.

  Apparently, all the beds had simir nameptes, though he hadn’t noticed before.

  Ivan had just begun settling in when the door swung open, followed by a familiar voice.

  "I can’t believe the Sorting Ceremony was just putting on a hat! I thought we’d have to wrestle a troll or something. I knew I shouldn’t have trusted George’s nonsense."

  The speaker was a red-haired boy with freckles scattered across his nose, grumbling as he entered. Behind him trailed a skinny boy with round gsses.

  Harry? Ron?

  Ivan blinked. Of all the dormitory arrangements, he hadn’t expected to be sharing a room with the Boy Who Lived. What a coincidence.

  "Hey, I’m Ivan Hals," he greeted them first.

  "Oh, hey! I’m Ron Weasley." Ron finally took notice of him.

  "Nice to meet you, I’m Harry Potter." Harry extended a hand.

  Ivan shook Harry’s hand before turning to Ron with a grin. "Your brothers, George and Fred, mentioned you earlier in the Great Hall."

  "Oh, bloody hell. I bet they didn’t say anything nice." Ron scowled at the thought of the mischievous twins and their usual antics.

  Harry, on the other hand, was pleased. Ivan treated him just like any other student—not gawking at his scar or making a fuss about his fame. Since arriving in the wizarding world, Harry had encountered far too many people who either fawned over him or treated him like an exhibit.

  Frankly, he found it exhausting.

  Friendships between young wizards could form in an instant—especially when one of them knew a lot about the other two. With Ivan deliberately steering the conversation, it didn’t take long for the three of them to hit it off.

  As they settled in, Harry shared bits about his miserable life before Hogwarts, while Ron grumbled about his twin brothers' pranks. Soon after, Neville and their other dormmate joined in, and the group chatted te into the night before finally crawling into bed.

  The sheer whirlwind of the day left Ivan utterly drained. The moment his head hit the pillow, his body sank into the mattress, exhaustion ciming him in an instant. Any pns he had of investigating his mysterious system would have to wait.

  As sleep cimed him, the st thing he heard was Ron muttering curses at his pet rat, Scabbers. Ivan cracked an eye open, saw the blurry outline of the squabbling pair, and then pulled the bnket over his head.

  His lips moved soundlessly as he whispered to himself—

  Hello, Hogwarts.

  —

  The next morning, Ivan woke up with a start, still half-lost in his dreams. It took him a long moment to register where he was—and that he had csses to attend.

  Going straight from a hospital bed to a cssroom was a jarring transition, and Ivan struggled to wrap his head around it.

  Still, there was no way he was going to be te for his first-ever Hogwarts lesson. Even though it was still early, he knew better than to underestimate Hogwarts’ ever-shifting staircases.

  Of course, he made sure to drag Ron and Harry out of bed before leaving.

  Whether it was Harry’s Chosen One curse acting up or Ivan’s own rotten luck, their trek downstairs proved perilous. Twice, they stepped onto vanishing steps, and poor Ron even walked straight into a deceptive wall disguised as a door.

  If nothing else, at least Ron’s misfortune served as a useful warning, sparing Ivan and Harry from the same fate.

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