Following Percy, the Gryffindor prefect, Harry and Ron half-supported Dudley as they navigated the winding corridors of Hogwarts. Percy pointed out shortcuts and explained important school rules, his voice echoing in the stone hallways. They passed several shimmering, translucent ghosts who drifted through walls, their sorrowful expressions fixed on some distant memory. The strange spiritual entities piqued Dudley's interest, but he was too depleted to do more than register their presence.
Finally, they arrived at Gryffindor Tower. At the end of the corridor hung a large portrait of a very plump lady in a pink silk dress.
"Password?" she asked, her painted eyes looking down at them.
"Caput Draconis," Percy said crisply.
The Fat Lady nodded, and the portrait swung forward like a door, revealing a circular opening in the wall.
"New students, please note," Percy warned as they scrambled through. "Inter-house visits are forbidden. You must remember the password, or you might find yourself sleeping in the corridor."
The Gryffindor common room was a cozy, circular space filled with squashy armchairs and mismatched tables, all bathed in the warm, crackling light of a massive fireplace. Harry and Ron helped Dudley to one of the chairs while the other first-years surveyed their new home with wide, curious eyes.
"The girls' dormitories are up that staircase," Percy announced, pointing. "And the boys' are up that one. And no, boys are not allowed in the girls' dormitories. The stairs are enchanted."
"Is the boys' dormitory enchanted, too?" a boy named Seamus asked hopefully.
"No," Percy replied with a slight smirk. "Which means girls can enter the boys' dormitories. So, I suggest you don't get too… wild. You know."
A chorus of indignant cries erupted from the boys. "That's not fair!" "Discrimination!"
"It certainly isn't," Percy said with an unsympathetic shrug. "Feel free to take it up with Professor McGonagall."
A sudden, fearful silence fell over the group. No one was brave enough to do that.
Percy led the boys up a spiral staircase to their dormitory at the top of the tower. It was a circular room with five magnificent four-poster beds, each hung with deep red velvet drapes. Their luggage had already been brought up and placed at the foot of their beds.
The day's events had left everyone exhausted, but Dudley was on another level. The immense consumption of his spiritual power had left him feeling hollowed out, a deep ache settled behind his eyes. He didn't even bother to open his trunk. He simply collapsed onto the nearest bed and was asleep before his head hit the pillow.
He woke the next morning to a frantic shout.
"What's wrong?" Dudley sat up instantly, his senses on high alert, the instincts of a survivor overriding his exhaustion.
"Scabbers! He's gone!" Ron cried, his voice filled with panic. He was on his hands and knees, searching under the beds. "I've looked everywhere!"
"That rat," Dudley frowned. He had intended to examine the creature more closely, but its violent reaction had prevented it.
"Maybe he just ran out?" Harry mumbled, still half-asleep.
"I don't know," Ron said miserably, his eyes flicking to Dudley's orange cat, who was curled up asleep at the foot of his bed.
"It definitely wasn't my cat," Dudley said firmly. "He's just a kitten. And besides," he added, his senses telling him what his eyes could not, "he doesn't have the scent of a rat on him."
"Is there anything special about your rat?" Dudley asked, his mind already working.
"Nothing special," Ron said. "He just eats and sleeps all day. Though… he has lived a long time. I don't even remember how long he's been in our family."
"Lives a long time?" Dudley's gaze sharpened. "Is it possible he's not an ordinary rat, but some kind of… magical creature?"
"Magical? Nah," Ron denied immediately. "He's just a common garden rat."
Is that so? Dudley thought. His Spirit Vision had shown him otherwise. The rat possessed a spiritual core, however faint. And more than that, for a fleeting instant on the train, he had seen something else—a shadowy, humanoid shape superimposed over the rat's own spirit. He had planned to investigate further at Hogwarts, but now, on their very first morning, the rat had vanished. A keen, unerring intuition told him this was no coincidence.
This magical world has more mysteries than I thought, he mused. I hope I'm not just overthinking this.
After a long and fruitless search, they had to give up. Their frantic hunt for Scabbers, combined with their complete unfamiliarity with Hogwarts' shifting staircases and confusing corridors, made them late for their first Transfiguration class.
"We need to leave earlier from now on," Harry panted as they ran. "These staircases keep moving!"
"Maybe we should get a map," Ron suggested.
"No need," Dudley said confidently. "I've already memorized the route." The experience of chanting the honorable name the night before had done more than just exhaust him; it had accelerated the digestion of his Beyonder Characteristics. The power of a Sequence 8 Magistrate was beginning to surface, and with it came the mystical ability to perfectly recall any route he had walked.
"You've already memorized it?" Ron said, amazed. "I can't remember a thing. I'd be lost in a second."
The three of them hurried along and finally arrived at the Transfiguration classroom, skidding to a halt outside the door.
"Good, Professor McGonagall isn't here yet," Harry said, relieved to see the other first-years sitting quietly at their desks.
"Maybe she's late, too," Ron grinned.
Dudley looked at the unnaturally silent classroom, and his instincts screamed at him. Something was wrong. There was no way a room full of eleven-year-olds would be this quiet without a teacher present. It was too orderly. Too peaceful.
(End of Chapter)
***
(End of Chapter)
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