Harry and Ron supported Dudley as they trailed the Gryffindor students, led by Percy, the Prefect, who outlined key Hogwarts rules for the first-years.
Along the way, they passed ghosts—ethereal figures that sparked Dudley's curiosity. Exhausted from his earlier spiritual exertion, however, he lacked the energy to study them.
Soon, they reached Gryffindor Tower.
At the corridor's end hung a portrait of a plump woman in pink, the Fat Lady.
"Password?" she asked.
"Dragon Slag," Percy replied.
The Fat Lady nodded, and her portrait swung open, revealing a circular passage just wide enough for one person.
"First-years, note: inter-House visits are forbidden. Memorize the password, or you might be locked out of the common room," Percy warned.
The group followed him into the Gryffindor common room, a cozy, circular space filled with plush armchairs.
Harry and Ron eased Dudley into a chair, and the first-years eagerly surveyed their new home, exclusive to Gryffindors.
"Girls' dormitories are that way—you can head up on your own. Boys, the girls' staircase is enchanted to block you," Percy said, addressing the girls first, then the boys.
"Is the boys' dormitory enchanted?" Seamus, a first-year, asked.
"No," Percy said, shaking his head. "Girls can enter the boys' dormitories, so I'd advise you not to get too… reckless, if you catch my drift."
"That's unfair!" Seamus protested.
"Why can girls enter our dorms, but we can't enter theirs?"
"It's discrimination!" other boys chimed in.
"It's not fair, but you're welcome to take it up with Professor McGonagall," Percy said with a shrug.
The boys fell silent. McGonagall's stern reputation was already daunting.
"Alright, follow me," Percy said, leading the boys toward their dormitory.
Dudley, regaining some strength, managed to walk unaided.
After climbing a spiral staircase, they reached the top of Gryffindor Tower—the boys' dormitory. Four-poster beds with deep red velvet curtains looked invitingly soft.
Their luggage awaited, neatly placed by their beds.
Exhausted, especially Dudley, whose spiritual power needed time to recover, the group settled in. Dudley didn't bother with his luggage, collapsing onto his bed and falling into a deep sleep.
The night passed quietly, and Dudley woke refreshed to Ron's frantic shout.
"What's wrong?" Dudley asked, sitting up and scanning the room warily.
"Scabbers is gone!" Ron said, having scoured the dormitory to no avail.
"That rat…" Dudley frowned.
On the train, he'd sensed something off about Scabbers and planned to examine it closely, but the rat's violent struggling had thwarted him.
"Could it have slipped out?" Harry asked, rubbing sleep from his eyes.
"Dunno," Ron said, eyeing Big Orange, Dudley's kitten, lounging nearby.
"It wasn't Big Orange," Dudley said firmly. "She's too young to hunt rats, and there's no trace of Scabbers' scent on her."
"I'll keep looking. Maybe it scampered off," Ron said, deflated.
"Anything special about your rat?" Dudley asked.
"Nah, just eats and sleeps. Been with us forever, though—I can't recall how long," Ron said.
"Lives a long time?" Dudley pressed. "Could it be… not an ordinary rat, but a magical creature?"
"Magical creature? No way, it's just a plain rat," Ron scoffed.
"Is it?" Dudley's brow furrowed.
On the train, his Spirit Vision had revealed spiritual power in Scabbers—proof it wasn't ordinary. He'd even glimpsed a humanoid shadow in its soul, though the moment was too brief to confirm. He'd intended to investigate at Hogwarts, but now, on their second day, Scabbers had vanished.
Ron's family seemed oblivious to the rat's nature.
Dudley's intuition screamed that Scabbers was no mere pet.
"This magical world is full of secrets," he thought, hoping he wasn't overanalyzing.
Ron's search yielded nothing—Scabbers had seemingly evaporated from Gryffindor Tower.
The hunt for the rat, combined with their unfamiliarity with Hogwarts' labyrinthine corridors, delayed them for their first Transfiguration class.
"We need to leave earlier from now on. Those staircases keep shifting," Harry said, panting as they hurried along.
"Maybe we should get a Hogwarts map," Ron suggested.
"No need—I've memorized the routes," Dudley said.
As a Sequence Nine in the Judge pathway, nearing Sequence Eight (Magistrate), Dudley could vividly recall routes, faces, and details with supernatural precision. After reciting the revered name and entering that mysterious realm the previous night, his Sequence Nine characteristics had nearly fully integrated, accelerating his progress toward Sequence Eight by weeks. Memorizing Hogwarts' layout was effortless.
"You've memorized it already?" Ron said, astonished. "I'd get lost if I tried again right now."
The trio rushed on, finally reaching the Transfiguration classroom.
"Phew, Professor McGonagall isn't here yet," Harry said, relieved, noting the first-years quietly studying.
"Maybe she's late too," Ron said, grinning.
Dudley scanned the eerily silent classroom, unease creeping in. First-years studying so diligently without a teacher? Unlikely—they'd be chaos incarnate.