Andrew wasn't sure whether he should feel relieved or worried. He was so distracted that he barely paid attention to the rest of the sorting. He only noticed that a girl named Hannah was the last one called up and that she ended up in Hufflepuff. After deciding to start studying the memory-locking spell whose name he could never remember, Andrew completely missed the Headmaster's speech.
But there was no need to dwell on that.
It was time to eat.
As the Hufflepuff student had said, Hogwarts' meals were indeed quite good.
After trying several dishes, Andrew found his favorite and happily ate until he was full—even if he got caught by Dumbledore tomorrow, at least he wouldn't starve.
After finishing a delicious pudding, Andrew's mood completely recovered.
"Alright," said Dumbledore as the food magically disappeared from the table. He stood up—and only then did Andrew finally get a good look at the powerful white wizard he feared so much.
The Chocolate Frog card certainly didn't exaggerate. Dumbledore looked like a kindly old man, his white beard and hair giving him an air of gentle wisdom. Even when announcing the rules, there wasn't much harshness in his demeanor.
"Now that we are all well-fed and content, I would like to say a few words as we begin the term.
"First, all students should note that the Forbidden Forest is off-limits to anyone who does not wish to meet with misfortune—I make this announcement every year.
"Secondly, Mr. Filch, our caretaker, has asked me to remind you that magic is not permitted in the hallways between classes.
"Furthermore, Quidditch trials will be held during the second week of term. Anyone interested in playing for their House team should contact Madam Hooch.
"And finally, to anyone who does not wish to meet a most unpleasant end, please avoid the right-hand corridor on the fourth floor."
Dumbledore's tone became more serious with the final warning, and the importance of his message was very clear to everyone.
"The fourth floor?" Andrew muttered to himself.
He quickly realized what Dumbledore was referring to—the Philosopher's Stone.
This year, all Andrew wanted was to study magic quietly. If he didn't have classes on that floor, he intended to avoid it altogether.
"Now, before you go to bed, let us all sing the school song!" Dumbledore's cheerful exclamation broke Andrew's train of thought. The resulting cacophony of off-key singing gave him a strange feeling—perhaps someone as eccentric as Dumbledore wouldn't mind the unauthorized stories he had written?
But Andrew quickly dismissed the absurd thought. No way. The last thing he needed was to be strung up by the castle walls and questioned about "thirty years east of the Thames" by the Headmaster. That would be a problem far greater than the Philosopher's Stone.
After the school song, the first-years followed the prefects out of the Great Hall, Andrew included.
It was then that he received some unwelcome news.
The Ravenclaw common room was in the tower—no elevators…
To be precise, it was on the fifth floor of Hogwarts' endless staircase, complete with disappearing steps and moving staircases…
If anyone was destined to accidentally wander onto the fourth floor, it would either be the truly lost Ravenclaws or the deliberately lost Gryffindors.
While Andrew was grumbling, the prefects suddenly stopped on the second floor.
"Alright, before we head to the common room, we're going to do a traditional sorting of our own."
The prefect leading the group smiled at Andrew and the others.
"Welcome to Ravenclaw. Now, let's begin our welcome ceremony—follow whichever group suits you."
Just as Andrew was trying to make sense of it, several senior students stepped forward from the group.
"Those who think there's something off about Gringotts, follow us."
Two older students stepped forward and spoke to the first-years, then turned and walked confidently down a side corridor.
A few first-years hesitated briefly, then followed. They paused briefly near the prefects, but seeing no one stop them, they hurried along.
"Good, it seems everyone understands the rules." Two more senior students stepped forward.
"Now, for those who think the primary goal of a wizard is to gain great power, follow me."
A few first-years followed without hesitation. Andrew hesitated but chose not to go—the group was led by someone else, and pursuing ancient magic was not guaranteed. Joining the group meant following someone else's pace, and the biggest problem was that he'd have to work hard to take the lead later on. Plus, the split already seemed quite divisive this early on.
'Hopefully, they'll allow latecomers… and besides, there's another group I'd rather join.'
Andrew decided not to follow.
"Now, those who wish for fame and glory, follow me…"
…
"Adventurers, follow me…"
…
"Quidditch…"
…
"Those interested in joining the Ministry of Magic, follow me…"
This was it!
Andrew quickly followed—with a mentor-student principle, this group likely had graduates working in the Ministry.
Even if he was wrong, he could always work independently for a few years—after all, he intended to gather a group to study ancient magic later on, and by then, people from the other groups would likely have diverging interests.
He couldn't believe everyone would stick to the same goal they chose in their first year, all the way until graduation.
For now, the priority was keeping up with the older students ahead.
"We are essentially the largest group within Ravenclaw…"
"Because of the Ministry's hiring policy, competition is also fierce…"
"The number of first-years taken in is fixed, but different years have no competition with each other—you understand what I mean, right?"
Because they were walking fast and talking, one of the first-years sadly missed a staircase. Andrew suspected that the senior student had timed their path to coincide with the stairs moving away.
"Those who fell behind might catch up, or they might not… We can't be sure, but no one will wait for them.
"Ultimately, success depends on results. We're not like other houses—it's hard to imagine a Ravenclaw not having a clear goal in their first year.
"Regarding House points and the House Cup, just do your best.
"You've waited long enough, and you've heard enough—you know why everyone made their choices.
"Unity within Ravenclaw is both essential and a luxury—those who seek loopholes for personal gain are fundamentally incompatible with us—they hope we make mistakes in our future work to benefit themselves, while we hope to send them to Azkaban for our own merit.
"The same goes for those who crave power. Most of them will turn to various illegal spells to strengthen themselves, evading our pursuit, while our job is still to send them to Azkaban.
"Even among us, there are differences—taking down your competitors is a very effective method, but the price will most likely be Azkaban…
"Alright, here we are, fifth floor…
"It's unfortunate for those who didn't keep up, but this is the reality. Unless they pass our future evaluations, they won't be able to join us…
"First-years, I hope you remember everything I've told you—if you're prepared to send your fellow housemates to Azkaban, then welcome to Ravenclaw."
Andrew almost fell for the persuasive speech.
He couldn't quite put his finger on what was wrong, but he felt something was off.
It wasn't until they reached the Ravenclaw common room and saw the throng of people crowded outside that Andrew finally had his epiphany.
Despite how that older Ravenclaw had given the impression that joining the Ministry-focused group was the obvious choice, it turned out that the largest group by far was the unaligned students.
Some had failed the selection process, others felt they didn't fit in and left, some couldn't get along with existing groups and decided to search for like-minded individuals elsewhere, and others simply distrusted organized groups. These scattered, unaffiliated students were by far the largest contingent.
And the reason Andrew realized this so quickly was because everyone was stuck outside the common room door—thanks to a question that was apparently too difficult for anyone to answer.
If this were an ordinary day, most of these students would have already returned to their rooms. The common room might have had some people lingering in the public area, but not like this. Now, looking at the mass of people, Andrew only needed to do a quick calculation of the new students to understand what was wrong with that older student's claims.
'It's not just the Ministry group,' he realized. 'The entire house is divided into numerous factions, each with its own leader. Even the Ministry group is just the biggest, not the only one.'
Andrew felt like laughing but decided to save face for the older students.
"Today's question is: What laws are violated by casting the Sonorus charm on a Mandrake in the Great Hall?"
…
What kind of ridiculous question was that?
Andrew wanted to swear. Hadn't they just said at dinner that the eagle-shaped bronze door knocker usually asked logical riddles?
Still, he thought about it for a moment. The question wasn't entirely pointless—it was silly, but beneath that was an assessment of students' knowledge of legal provisions and their understanding of loopholes.
"There's no solution to this question," one of the older Ravenclaws finally concluded after thinking for a moment.
He turned to Andrew and the other first-years, speaking softly. "Even those who love to exploit loopholes can't figure this one out. The Hogwarts library has copies of all the different editions of the legal codes, which means you'd need to memorize all those outdated laws to answer this question properly."
All the different versions…
Andrew understood the scale of the problem immediately.
After some discussion among the older students and the prefects, the prefects began to announce the plan for the night. After a bit of work, they widened the space around the entrance and began hauling out sleeping bags.
Seeing how practiced the older students were at this, Andrew couldn't help but wonder: Why are they so experienced at this? How often do they sleep out here?
Apparently, being in Ravenclaw also meant having a valid excuse to sleep outside without breaking any rules.
"Excuse me," Andrew asked a nearby student who looked like he might be a third-year, "What about our textbooks for tomorrow's classes?"
"Just solve tomorrow's question," the older student replied. "Whether it's taking a bath or grabbing your books, as long as it's after midnight, the knocker will reset with a new question. If you're still awake, you can go in and take care of it. Or you can get up early and solve it then. If you need the bathroom, there's a public one on the fifth floor."
"That's a relief," Andrew sighed in genuine appreciation.
"These are lessons learned from generations of students," the third-year added. "The bathroom even has hot water. Bathing, though, is more complicated. We haven't figured out a way to manage that yet."
Great. Now Andrew knew—the area outside the common room was essentially Ravenclaw's second common room.
"That's good to know, but what if no one can solve the next day's question either?" Andrew asked.
The older student's confident expression turned stiff. After a long sigh, he replied, "Then we have to inform the professors. It doesn't happen often, but it's not unheard of."
Wonderful. Welcome to Ravenclaw's exclusive course on sleeping bags.
Andrew still had a lot of questions, but he could see that the older student was too tired to continue. After all, they had all been sitting on a train for half the day.
Even Andrew, usually full of energy, found himself unusually tired today. Within minutes of the conversation ending, he could feel his eyelids drooping.
He didn't even have the energy to seek out his future roommates—most of the new students had already found random corners, crawled into their sleeping bags, and fallen asleep.
'Guess that's it…'
Andrew also picked a decent spot, crawled into his sleeping bag, and drifted off to sleep.
---
"So tired…"
In front of the knocker, the prefect and some of the upper-year members of various house groups yawned as they waited for midnight to pass.
"I'm so jealous of the first-years, being able to fall asleep just like that…"
The prefect leaned against the wall, looking enviously at the students already asleep in their sleeping bags.
Not every Ravenclaw had the luxury of just lying down and waiting for morning.
Even after midnight brought a new question, it wouldn't necessarily be immediately solvable. Usually, it took some thought before someone could answer, and then the answer would be passed around.
If you understood the logic or just memorized the answer, then you were free to go in and out that day. If you did neither, you had to wait for someone to let you in.
In Ravenclaw, where wisdom was revered, anyone who could solve the unsolvable questions would earn respect from their peers. It was simple but universally recognized.
If you couldn't even get into the common room, who would trust you to lead them anywhere else?
Even prefects could lose influence if they repeatedly failed to open the door. So while they joked about it, none of them were actually willing to crawl into a sleeping bag and wait for morning.
"Alright, it's past midnight!" announced the Quidditch team captain, glancing at the time. He yawned and took his place in front of the knocker.
"One hundred Golden Snitches, one of which is defective. You have a single brass scale but no weights. What is the minimum number of weighings needed to find the defective Snitch?"
The new question was posed.
Once everyone heard it, the team captain yawned again, made a random guess, and, waving goodbye, happily went off to bed—the Quidditch team only needed to win, and no one cared about anything else.
His answer was incorrect—he had lost his chance to answer for the night, but it didn't matter. His job had been to probe the question, and now he was done.
With everyone's envious gaze on him, he crawled into his sleeping bag and quickly fell asleep.
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