Observe.

It was ten o'clock in the morning. I was watching the students and their families say their goodbyes via the windows of my compartment. Observing and listening to others, no matter how boring, had always been one of my hobbies.

Knock! Knock!

I took a look at the door. Standing there with his trunk was a bespectacled boy with black hair.

"I—,"

"You may come in," I replied, interrupting. "There's plenty of room here."

My subconscious brain had already begun to analyse the boy in front of me at that point, out of habit. I could tell by his clothing that his family circumstances was not good. His awkwardness could be the result of bullying, but I didn't know for sure. His enormous and worn-out shirt showed that he was either mistreated or came from a poor household. Other factors could be at play. His untidy hair was most likely the product of carelessness.

'Is it...?' I saw something odd right away: a scar on his forehead, buried beneath his hair. That scar resembled an 'N'. That led me to believe he was "Harry Potter," but I could be mistaken.

"Are you... Harry Potter?" He was already seated when I asked.

"Y...yes." Harry was taken aback and responded with a stutter.

"Oh," I muttered. It was sufficient for me to know that my judgement had been correct.

He was taken aback by my response, or rather, my lack of response. People are normally too enthusiastic when they meet him, thus my lack of curiosity was probably refreshing or novel to him. However, I couldn't be certain.

I heard another knock on the door after five minutes of silence. It was a young boy with red hair. I remembered seeing twins with the same red hair on the way to my compartment earlier in the morning. Their manner of speaking was amusing and intriguing to me.

"Excuse me, Can I?" He asked. "Everywhere else is full."

"Of course," I replied. I resumed my routine of analysing the red-haired adolescent. It was obvious that the youngster was well fed; his clothing were a little dingy, but that was all. He was most likely a younger sibling or cousin of the twins I saw earlier. I was uncertain.

"By the way, my name is Ron Weasley." As he sat next to Harry, he introduced himself.

"My name is Krynt Helder," I said.

"Do you know the twins who have similar hair to yours?" Before Harry could introduce himself, I inquired. I knew I wouldn't be able to satisfy my curiosity any time soon if I let Harry speak first.

"Is it Fred and George you're referring to? They are, indeed, my brothers. They're continually pulling pranks on each other..." The boy continued to complain about how horrible they were. I discovered that the youngster had a limited attention span after listening to his complaints. His retelling of his brothers' infamous actions was disjointed.

The train's whistle was heard. The red-haired adolescent came to a halt. He was frightened, and it was likely that his siblings had told him some terrifying stories about Hogwarts that had scared him. But that wasn't immediately apparent. Even though he knew his brothers' statements were lies, some portion of his brain accepted them as true.

However, I was ecstatic. A whole new world to discover, full with magical surprises. And, most likely, the location where I could discover the origins of the power I possessed.

...

When the train arrived at Hogsmeade station, it was already evening. Except for the chocolate frog that Harry offered me, the voyage was as dull as any other train journey. It was strange to consume chocolate that resembled a frog in appearance and movement. I also witnessed the first time someone our age used magic. It was a brunette with brown hair. Hermione Granger was her name. She used the 'Oculus Reparo' spell to fix Harry's eyeglass. It seemed intriguing to me. I assumed she was top of her class in non-magical school and would likely be top of her class at Hogwarts as well. She appeared to be self-assured, but that could just be a ruse to mask her vulnerability.

The first thing I observed as I got off the train was a huge man with a long beard carrying a lantern and shouting, "Firs' years! Firs' years over here!"

I learned from Harry that the bearded man's name was Hagrid.

We trailed Hagrid down a steep, winding route. There were probably trees on both sides of the route, but I couldn't see for sure because of the darkness.

'Maybe I should add 'night vision' as one of my attributes.' I was suddenly struck with an idea.

A resounding "oooh!" from the crowd jolted me out of my reverie, and what met me was perhaps one of the most breathtaking landscape I'd ever seen. A huge castle with many turrets and towers, with sparkling windows under the starry sky, nestled atop a mountain.

"No more'n four to a boat," Hagrid called, pointing to a fleet of little boats sitting in the water by the shore of the lake.

I followed Harry and Ron into their boat followed by Hermione.

I just stared at the magnificent castle that was 'Hogwarts,' capturing every detail of the experience in my mind. "Memories and experience are what make you special," they say.

We had to walk a short distance after disembarking from the boat on the other side of the lake to reach a massive wooden door. It was so enormous that Hagrid appeared to be a normal human in comparison. Hagrid then knocked on the castle entrance three times.

The door swung open and I saw someone familiar standing here, tall and stout, with a stern face. It was Professor McGonagall. She was giving off an aura of authority unlike when she introduced me to the magical world.

"The firs' years, Professor McGonagall," said Hagrid.

"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here." She said.

Professor McGonagall led us to a chamber. She came to a halt in front of us and gave us a brief introduction of Hogwarts and its various houses. She then asked us to remain silent and exited the room.

As soon as she was gone, a cacophony of whispers rang through the chamber. I overheard Ron and Harry discussing about a 'test' that would sort us into the appropriate house. Then suddenly some of the students screamed in fright. I looked at the source of the sound and found out they were terrified by a group of transparent figures emerging from the wall.

'Interesting!' I was curious to know if they were really a ghost or just a construct of magic. Is there something special about Hogwarts that I could find 'ghost' only here, not anywhere else, like Diagon Alley where I shopped for my supplies?

Suddenly, one of the ghosts seemed to notice us.

He looked at us and said, "New students! About to be sorted, I suppose?"

"Hope to see you in Hufflepuff!" said the ghost. "My old house, you know."

"Move along now," said a sharp voice. "The Sorting Ceremony's about to start."

Professor McGonagall had returned. We were then asked to form a line and follow the professor into the Great Hall.

The countless candles floating over the heads were the first thing I noticed as I entered the Great Hall. We were on a high platform, with four long tables in front of us. The students of each house were seated in their respective tables as could be guessed by the colour schemes – the red and gold from Gryffindor, the yellow and black from Hufflepuff, blue and bronze from Ravenclaw, green and silver from Slytherin.

While I was looking around, Professor McGonagall had already walked to the middle of the platform. There was a stool with an old, and worpointeded hat placed on it.

Professor McGonagall picked up the ancient, pointy hat from the stool and said, "When I call your name, you will come forth and place the sorting hat on your head and you'll be assigned to your house."

"Hermione Granger!" Professor called out the first name. Hermione walked to the stool and put the hat on her head. The hat seemed to come alive the instant she put it on and looked as if it was contemplating where to put her. Only a few seconds later it yelled out, "GRYFFINDOR!"

The Gryffindor's students cheered and welcomed her to the table.

Draco Malfoy, the boy with shiny, blonde hair, was the second student who was called. The way he was sorted was funny. Before he even put the hat onto his head, the hat screamed, "SLYTHERIN!"

One by one, the students were called and they got sorted into their respective houses.

Neville Longbottom, the boy who had lost his pet toad earlier on the train, had a little accident after he was sorted. He walked to the Gryffindor's table with the sorting hat on his head.

After he was sorted, my name was called.

"Krynt Helder." The professor called out. I walked up to the stool and placed the sorting hat on my head.

"Let's see..." I heard an aged voice in my head. "Quite an organised mind you got there. Clever, witty, and only doing things out of necessity... I know exactly where to put you—"

"—RAVENCLAW!" The hat screamed. I stood up and put the hat back on the stool and walked down to the Ravenclaw table.

The students after me were sorted one by one. When Professor McGonagall called "Harry Potter", the great hall became silent. As Harry slowly walked up to the stool, all the student's attention were drawn to him.

"Is that Harry Potter?"

"Where is the scar? Can you see it?"

The students whispered to each other. It took a whole two minutes when the Sorting hat screamed, "GRYFFINDOR!"

The Gryffindor's table burst into cheers and claps. The twins were yelling, "We got Potter! We got Potter!"

After the chaos died down, the rest of the students were sorted into the corresponding houses.

Headmaster Dumbledore then gave a short, welcoming speech and then we were allowed to eat. As soon as the headmaster clapped twice, foods of various types magically appeared on the table.

"Excuse me, are this food magically created?" I asked a senior sitting beside me.

"It's the house-elves, They prepare the dish "With a chuckle, he responded. "Even if we wanted to, we couldn't make food out of thin air. Well, a powerful enough wizard or witch could be able to transform something into food, but I'm not sure it'll be edible."

"Thank you," I said.

After the meal, before heading to our dormitory, the headmaster gave us a few warnings and laid out some rules. I thought he was joking when he said that the third-floor corridor on the right side was out of bounds and we could face life-threatening situations if we dared to go there. But, looking at the serious expression from the seniors, I knew that the headmaster was not joking.

After that, we sang the school song. Everyone was out of tune, there wasn't even a rhythm to it. Everyone sang at their own pace.

After all that, we, the first years, followed the prefects to our dormitory. It was a little tiring to walk up all the stairs.

When we reach the entrance to our dormitory, the Eagle knocker on the door asked as a riddle,

"What belongs to you, but other people use it more than you?"

The perfect looked at us and gestured us to answer. A girl among us answered, "Name."

"Very good." The perfect complemented as the door creaked opened.

The prefect led us into a large, circular room. The sound of wind slapping against the glass was soothing to my ears. The perfect then gave us a list that had our names and the corresponding room.