Under the guidance of the Ravenclaw prefect, Penelope Clearwater, the new first-years filed out of the Great Hall and into the main corridor of Hogwarts. Among them was Adrian Blackwood, who silently observed a tall, sandy-haired male prefect give Penelope a fleeting glance before slipping away discreetly to join a group of upper-year students. Adrian found the interaction curious but said nothing, content to remain unnoticed for now.
"Mind the spiral staircases," Penelope instructed, her tone brisk yet patient. "Don't wander too far to the edge, or you might not just be late—you could wind up injured." She paused, letting her words sink in before continuing. "These staircases don't always go the same way twice. One of our founders, Rowena Ravenclaw, personally designed some of them to test a student's awareness and adaptability."
"Our common room is in Ravenclaw Tower on the west side of the castle. It's quite a hike from here, so watch your step!" she added. The path wound through wide staircases and narrow, creaky landings, some of which tilted slightly when stepped on. Adrian kept his senses sharp, noting the subtle tremors beneath his feet.
"Ahh!"
A sudden scream halted the group. Adrian whirled around in time to see Lisa Dupin, the last student sorted into Ravenclaw, dangling perilously from the edge of a shifting staircase. Her hands gripped the banister tightly as her foot dangled where a stair had just vanished beneath her.
"Oh no—the disappearing step," Penelope groaned. "I meant to warn you about that one! It vanishes every few minutes. I told you all to stay near the middle!" She pushed through the crowd of startled first-years, reaching for Lisa's hand. "Every year someone falls for it and ends up in the Hospital Wing overnight."
Lisa, already trembling, was struggling to hold on. A few students rushed to help, but they were a second too late. Her fingers slipped.
She screamed again.
And then—
"Wingardium Leviosa!"
The voice was clear, youthful, and confident.
Lisa stopped mid-fall, her body suddenly suspended in the air like a puppet caught by invisible strings. All heads turned toward the source of the spell. Adrian Blackwood was already leaping down the steps, his wand still raised, his dark eyes focused.
He reached Lisa just as the levitation charm faltered, catching her neatly in his arms. The group gasped.
"Did you see that?"
"He cast a spell! On his first night!"
"He's fast! And the spell held her weight!"
"Not even Penelope got there in time!"
The students burst into excited chatter. Adrian helped Lisa steady herself, his expression calm and controlled. For a moment, the gathered first-years looked at him not as a peer, but as someone much more capable—someone to follow.
"Oh, what do we have here?" came a cool, oily voice.
A shadow glided from a corridor behind them. Professor Severus Snape, with his trademark sneer and curtain of greasy black hair, emerged from the gloom like a bat. His dark eyes narrowed at Adrian.
"A first-year casting levitation with such ease? Remarkable. The press didn't lie about your talents, Mr. Blackwood. Befriending the so-called Boy-Who-Lived and now playing hero on your very first day. How… poetic."
Before Adrian could respond, a cheerful voice cut in.
"Professor Snape," said Professor Flitwick, the small but proud Charms Master and Head of Ravenclaw, as he hurried over. His robes flapped slightly with each step. "Ravenclaws are known for intellect and skill. Mr. Blackwood's performance was exceptional, and I daresay we are lucky to have him."
Flitwick beamed at Adrian, adding in a stage whisper to Snape, "And I do make it a point to learn the names of my students—especially those who already make such a dazzling first impression."
Adrian inclined his head respectfully. "Thank you, Professor Flitwick."
Penelope nodded approvingly and addressed the group again. "Eyes on your feet, everyone. Let's keep moving."
Lisa, her face still pale, turned to Adrian. "Thank you… for saving me."
"You're welcome," Adrian replied with a reassuring smile. "Let's just remember to jump over that step next time."
As they continued up the tower, Adrian reflected on the moment. He hadn't cast the spell to show off—but he was glad to see that it had helped Lisa, and possibly made a solid impression on his Head of House.
Eventually, they reached the top of the tower. The group halted before a tall, arched door inlaid with ancient wood and a large bronze knocker shaped like an eagle's head.
Penelope knocked thrice.
A smooth, ethereal voice echoed from the knocker: "If you wish to achieve your dream, what is the first thing you must do?"
Penelope didn't hesitate. "Wake up."
The door creaked open, revealing the serene and airy Ravenclaw common room. She turned back toward the group. "Unlike the other Houses, we don't use a password. Instead, our eagle knocker asks a riddle. If you answer correctly, the door opens. If not, you'll wait until someone else does. It's our way of encouraging critical thinking."
She smiled. "Don't worry. The riddles aren't rigid logic puzzles. They often have multiple answers—as long as they make sense. That's very Ravenclaw."
Adrian stepped into the common room, his mind still sharp from the experience. He hadn't planned on drawing attention tonight, but if Ravenclaw was about rising to the occasion, he had already made his mark.
Adrian found the setup of the Ravenclaw common room fascinating, but when it came to the dormitories, he was admittedly relieved by their security—after all, if the Eagle Knocker guarding the entrance truly hadn't let an outsider through in over a thousand years, either it was extremely discerning… or its standards, when it came to Ravenclaws themselves, were surprisingly lenient. He couldn't help but wonder—what if someone clever but with ill intentions managed to answer its riddle?
"Don't worry too much about the questions from the eagle door," said a calm, older voice. The female Ravenclaw prefect, likely a seventh-year, smiled as she held the door open. "You'll get used to them quickly. We're Ravenclaws—we like puzzles. You'll soon look forward to the challenge. It's common to see a dozen of us from different years crowding around the knocker, throwing out possible answers together. It's not only a fun tradition—it's also a great way to get to know your older housemates."
Her tone shifted to something a bit more wry. "That said, on mornings when you forget your Potions textbook or your Quidditch kit and need to run in and out in a hurry… the riddle might be less charming. So I recommend double-checking your bag before leaving the tower."
She stepped aside, allowing the first-years to enter. "We Ravenclaws are a bit… self-directed. Some of the other Houses think we're eccentric. They're not exactly wrong. But genius often is a little out of step with the ordinary. In Ravenclaw, you can wear what you want, believe what you want, and speak your mind freely. We don't judge oddness—we celebrate it."
Adrian couldn't help but think of that eccentric girl he'd glimpsed in Diagon Alley over the summer—Luna Lovegood. She wouldn't start Hogwarts until next year. In a House famed for valuing individuality, it was ironic how even a Ravenclaw could be considered too strange by her peers.
Crossing the threshold of the common room, Adrian took in his new surroundings.
The room was circular, with soaring arched windows set into the walls, letting moonlight pour across swathes of blue and bronze silk drapery. The view outside was breathtaking—the Black Lake, the Forbidden Forest, the Quidditch pitch, and the greenhouses were all visible from this height. A domed ceiling arched high above, painted with a starry night sky, which shimmered slightly as if enchanted. A deep midnight-blue carpet embroidered with constellations muffled their footsteps.
Shelves groaned under the weight of ancient tomes and spellbooks. Elegant desks and high-backed chairs filled the space. Across from the entrance, nestled in a niche of stone, stood a white marble bust of a serene, wise-looking woman: Rowena Ravenclaw herself, wand in hand and wearing her legendary diadem.
A door beside the statue, unobtrusive but clearly ancient, led to the spiral staircases ascending to the dormitories.
"None of the other common rooms have a view like ours," the prefect continued proudly. "You can see nearly all of Hogwarts from up here. It's especially beautiful in the early mornings."
She gave them a quick tour of the space and explained the dormitory arrangements. "The boys' and girls' dorms are separated. Don't get clever—Hogwarts has enchantments in place. If a boy tries to enter the girls' side, the stairs will turn into a slide and throw you out. Girls can enter the boys' dorms, though—founder's choice," she added with a smirk.
She turned again to the group, now gathered comfortably in the common room's center.
"As for unusual people—you'll love our Head of House, Professor Filius Flitwick. People tend to underestimate him because he's tiny and has a squeaky voice, but don't be fooled. He's a dueling champion and one of the most brilliant spellcasters alive. Some even say he has goblin ancestry, but you'd be wise not to ask him about it directly."
She laughed lightly. "He's kind, approachable, and always ready to help. His office door is nearly always open to Ravenclaws. And if you're having a bad day—real or… mildly exaggerated—he'll probably charm his enchanted biscuits to do a cowboy dance on your desk. It's worth pretending to mope just to see them."
Adrian raised an eyebrow. That, he had to see.
"Ravenclaw has a long tradition of magical innovation. Some of the greatest witches and wizards in history came from our House. There's Ignatia Wildsmith, who invented Floo Powder; Perpetua Fancourt, the mind behind the Lunar Scope; and Laverne de Montmorency, a pioneer in love potions. All Ravenclaws.
"Even some Ministers for Magic were one of us—Millicent Bagnold, for instance. She was in office the night You-Know-Who fell, and she famously said: 'I assert our inalienable right to party!' Her words, not mine. Then there's Lorcan McLaird, who preferred to puff smoke out of his wand instead of speaking directly. Like I said—we produce our share of eccentrics.
"And of course, the legendary Uric the Oddball—he wore a jellyfish for a hat and remains a staple of wizarding humor. You'll probably hear his name in every joke book you open."
The prefect clapped her hands together softly. "Oh, and our House ghost is the Grey Lady—the silent, mysterious figure you may have seen floating about. She rarely speaks to others, but she sometimes makes an exception for Ravenclaws. She is the daughter of Rowena Ravenclaw herself, though few know the full story. There are rumors about her connection to the Bloody Baron, but it's best not to ask."
She gave a final nod. "Congratulations again—you've been sorted into the most brilliant, agile-minded, and curious House at Hogwarts. Welcome to Ravenclaw."
With a graceful wave, she turned and ascended the stairs to the girls' dormitory, leaving the first-years to find their beds on their own.
Adrian wandered until he found his bed—a four-poster draped in rich blue hangings, the quilt a shimmering shade of raven's-wing silk. By coincidence—or perhaps the castle's own magic—his bed was next to Edward Fox, the quiet boy he'd exchanged a few words with on the train.
Edward blinked sleepily as Adrian climbed into bed. "Oh, hey," he mumbled. "Looks like we're dorm mates. Cool. 'Night."
"'Night," Adrian said, already half-lost in the comfort of the bed. The breeze from the high tower windows rustled the curtains faintly, bringing with it the scent of the lake and the rustling leaves of the Forbidden Forest far below. Adrian let himself sink into the mattress, eyes drifting shut.
The whispers of wind outside were soft and dreamlike. For the first time in days, he allowed himself to rest completely.