Fred and George brought their "punishment" for Hector’s perceived dishonesty to a satisfying end, all while the Sorting Ceremony continued.
Hector sucked in a sharp breath, rubbing the inside of his thigh where Fred had pinched him. The two brothers were truly ruthless, and their division of labor was impeccable: George first locked him in a firm cross-arm hold, while Fred, almost simultaneously, plucked the wand from Hector’s waist. Without his wand, Hector was stripped of all resistance, forced to yield in humiliation to the brothers' tyranny.
The Sorting Ceremony, however, proceeded as normal, entirely unaffected by Hector the butterfly effect. Hermione was sorted into Gryffindor—a result Hector found highly satisfactory. The famous Harry Potter refused the Sorting Hat's suggestion to send him to Slytherin and was placed in Gryffindor. The Gryffindor table erupted like it was a festival; the moment the Hat shouted "Gryffindor," the Weasley twins leapt up, linked arms, and cheered at the top of their lungs:
"We’ve got Harry Potter, and we’ve got Dumbledore!"
As for Ron, Hector wasn't worried in the slightest. Even if Ron had suffered a mishap and ended up in Hufflepuff, Hector wouldn't have minded taking Ron's place to form a new trio. But Ron got his wish and was sorted into Gryffindor; he beamed with joy as he sat down next to Harry. As for Hector, through a bit of calculated maneuvering, he successfully landed in the seat right next to Hermione.
The ceremony concluded quickly. Once the last young wizard was sorted into Slytherin, Professor Dumbledore stood up to summarize.
"Welcome! A new school year!" Dumbledore looked over the students in the Great Hall with a kindly smile. "I know you are all hungry, so I will be brief."
"Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!"
Hector rolled his eyes. Old Dumbledore was always like this; even when he was teaching Hector, he was a total riddle-monger.
"Now, let the feast begin!"
Dumbledore clapped his hands, and the empty tables were instantly laden with a vast array of food. Hector was pleased that Dumbledore had truly lived up to "being brief." The ceremony had lasted a while, and since Hector hadn't eaten dinner at home, he was genuinely famished. He had to admit, the food at Hogwarts was excellent, and refreshingly normal—none of that hellish traditional British "stargazy pie."
He speared a sizzling, oily piece of steak onto his plate. After a few futile attempts with the steak knife, he wisely opted to tear into it with his teeth rather than cut it. Opposite him, Ron gripped a chicken leg in each hand, while Harry was struggling with a whole roast lamb leg. After much effort, he managed to tear off a portion larger than expected—the piece of meat was nearly as big as his entire face.
The bandit-like behavior of the three boys made Hermione, sitting next to Hector, shift away.
"Gentlemen, if you can call yourselves that," she said, eyeing the trio with disdain. "I don't think using a knife and fork is all that difficult." She picked up a piece of pie from the table and began eating it in small, lady-like bites.
The three boys exchanged glances and smiled with silent rapport.
*Ron is quite to my liking; I’m glad he was sorted into Gryffindor.* That was what Hector thought.
*Hector is actually a really good guy. I guess that’s why Fred and George are friends with him—we will be too, soon enough.* That was what Ron thought.
*I don't know what they're smiling about, but it might be rude not to smile back.* That was what Harry thought.
For Harry, focusing on demolishing the food in front of him was more important than anything else. As for Hector, Harry had already accepted him as a friend back when he’d retorted to Malfoy on the stairs.
The feast ended quickly. Hector, focused on the food, didn't notice the passage of time—nor did he notice Hermione trying to catch his attention to discuss coursework several times. She had to settle for someone else; clearly, Percy Weasley was more than happy to discuss things with the young girl.
Just as Hector was about to grab another chicken leg for a little extra, McGonagall tapped her goblet, and Dumbledore stood up.
"Ahem! Just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered," Dumbledore said, his twinkling eyes sweeping over the students. "Mr. Filch has asked me to remind you not to use magic in the corridors between classes. Also, Quidditch tryouts will take place in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in joining their house team should contact Madam Hooch."
Hector had the distinct feeling Old Dumbledore was looking at Harry, though he had no proof. Harry, however, who was looking toward Snape, felt a sudden, searing pain in his forehead scar. Snape, who happened to be looking his way, naturally bore the brunt of the blame.
"Ouch!" Harry clutched his forehead.
"What's wrong?" Percy asked.
"Nothing." The burning sensation vanished as quickly as it had come, but Harry felt no warmth in the gaze of that hook-nosed, greasy-haired teacher; the cold stare made him realize the man held no affection for him.
"Who is that teacher? The one in the black robes?" Harry asked. Hector leaned in, hijacking Percy’s line.
"That’s Professor Snape. He teaches Potions," Hector said, having guessed exactly what Harry had just experienced. "Rumor has it he’s always wanted to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts, but he’s never gotten the position. Dumbledore has been looking for a new professor for that subject every year, but it’s never been Snape."
"How do you know that? You're a first-year," Percy sounded surprised, though he soon found the reason. "Almost forgot, your surname is Dumbledore. Of course you’d know."
"Now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!" The teachers' expressions stiffened. Dumbledore gave his wand a flick, and a long, golden ribbon erupted from the tip, fluttering in the air.
For a split second, Hector had to admit Old Dumbledore looked like a ballerina playing with a ribbon. The thought appeared, and Hector’s brain automatically photoshopped it, engraving it into his mind before he could try to forget it. Dumbledore flicked his wand again, detaching the ribbon, and his raised pinky finger fell right into Hector’s line of sight, who had been trying to avoid it.
*Great. Now I’ll never be able to unsee that.*
"Everyone pick their favorite tune," Dumbledore said, wielding his wand like a conductor. "And off we go!"
The students sang at the top of their lungs, creating an indescribably chaotic din. When everyone finished at different times, only the Weasley twins were still singing, keeping pace with a funeral march. Dumbledore seemed satisfied, even using his wand to conduct the final bars for them. The twins bowed and offered a round of enthusiastic applause.
"Music! A magic beyond all we do here!" the old man wiped his eyes. "And now, off to bed! Off you trot!"
The Gryffindor first-years followed Percy through the noisy crowd, out of the Great Hall, and up the marble staircase. The feast had lasted a long time, and for the young wizards who had spent the day traveling, their legs felt like lead. Harry felt the same; even when Percy led them through doors hidden behind sliding panels and tapestries, Harry wasn't surprised—he just leaned heavily against Hector, the most alert first-year in the group. Ron, of course, did the same.
*A living human sandwich,* Hector thought. If it were Hermione leaning on him, he’d be happy, but this? He was filled with disdain. Dragging these two up the stairs was torture, and why was the road to the dormitory so far? Hector felt like he could have walked all the way to Hogsmeade.
Suddenly, Percy stopped, which made Harry and Ron sober up slightly. They rubbed their eyes and saw a bundle of walking sticks floating in mid-air.
"Peeves," Percy whispered to the first-years. "A poltergeist. Watch—he's about to appear, and you’ll see how I deal with them."
"I think learning how to deal with Peeves is pretty essential."
Hector was speechless at the two giant anchors clinging to him. He didn't want to wait around; he just wanted to reach the dorm and throw these two exhausted fools onto their beds. He pulled his hand free from Ron’s grip and reached for his wand. Percy noticed his movement. "Hector," he said sternly, "Professor Dumbledore said no magic in the corridors. Besides, you don't know how to handle Peeves; you’ll just make him angry, and no one will get to bed without a bump on their head."
Hector saw the Weasley twins making faces at Percy from behind his back, and he replied, "Relax, I just want to get to the dorm." Hector stepped past Percy and pointed his wand at the bundle of floating sticks. "Besides, my motto is: as long as you don't get caught, it’s not breaking school rules."
"That’s definitely my motto," Fred laughed happily, and George nodded.
"Great minds think alike, brother."
"Waddiwasi!" Hector whispered the incantation. A poltergeist suddenly popped out of thin air. The walking sticks formed a small cage around him, and he vanished into the distance with a sound like a leaking balloon, right before the eyes of the Gryffindors.
"Sorry, Prefect Percy." Hector didn't have much respect for this stiff-necked guy, otherwise, he wouldn't have bothered sticking his neck out. But, for now, basic politeness was required. If it weren't for the fact that this guy eventually turned to the right side, Hector’s petty nature might have prompted him to do something more extreme.
"A very clever spell, Mr. Dumbledore." Percy looked displeased; he hated having his authority challenged—by his original brothers, and now by Hector. Still, he kept his composure and didn't bicker. He looked at the first-years behind him, "This way, Gryffindors." He turned back to Hector, "If there is nothing else, please return to the ranks, Mr. Dumbledore?"
Hector dutifully returned to the group, and the two "anchors" hung onto him as if nothing had happened. As soon as he was back in position, two tall, thin figures leaned in, the Weasley twins making faces at him.
"Can't believe you challenged Percy’s authority like that!" Fred winked at Hector. "In front of everyone!"
"It’s exactly what we’ve always wanted to do. Really inspiring, isn't it, Fred?" George said.
"Absolutely!" Fred sounded excited. "We forgive you. Also, we’ve got a surprise for you."
"Make sure you come out tonight. You don't look that tired, and night-walking is always exciting, right, Fred?" George added.
"It’s truly invigorating!" Fred and George sang in harmony. They leaned in close: "Midnight. We'll wait for you in the common room."
"Don't be late," they added, before hopping away.
They soon reached the end of the corridor. Percy stopped in front of a portrait of a very plump woman in a pink silk dress.
"Password?" she asked.
"Caput Draconis," Percy said. The portrait swung forward to reveal a large hole. The students filed through and found themselves in the Gryffindor common room, a cozy space filled with soft armchairs.
Percy led the girls to their dorms, then the boys to theirs. The boys' dormitory was in a tower, at the top of a spiral staircase. They spent a while finding it, finally entering a room with five four-poster beds draped in deep red velvet curtains. Their luggage was already neatly placed at the foot of their beds.
The four boys looked exhausted—excluding Hector, who had other plans. They changed into their pajamas by instinct and skipped washing up entirely. There were no "goodnights"; Neville and Ron were asleep the moment they hit the sheets. As for the boy with the perpetually exploding hair, our resident explosives genius Seamus Finnigan, he turned on the tap, took out his toothbrushing cup, and collapsed onto the bed.
Harry rubbed his sleepy eyes, saw Hector sitting on his bed reading, and asked, "Not sleeping yet?" Harry felt like he was about to drop.
"It’s fine, I’m okay. You go ahead." Seeing that Harry could barely keep his eyes open, Hector abandoned his plan to take him out for a night stroll on the first night.
Harry nodded and lay down. Soon, the room was filled with the sound of rhythmic snoring, just like any other boys' dorm.
Hector felt no sleepiness. He waited patiently, waiting for the bells of midnight to chime.