Thick of it : reboot

The Hogwarts Express let out a long, shrill whistle as it pulled into the station, steam billowing in thick, curling waves around the students as they stepped onto the platform. The night air was crisp, carrying with it the scent of damp earth and something distinctly magical—like a mixture of old parchment, bubbling potions, and a hint of mischief.

Among the throng of wide-eyed first-years, James, Ron, and Harry stepped off the train, their heads twisting in every direction, drinking in their surroundings. Lanterns flickered in the distance, casting eerie shadows over the sea of excited students.

"Firs'-years! Firs'-years over here!"

A booming voice cut through the chatter, and there stood Hagrid—easily the tallest and widest man James had ever seen, a wild mane of hair framing his beetle-black eyes. The half-giant's massive hand waved them over enthusiastically.

The moment Harry spotted him, his face lit up. "Hagrid!" he called, running forward to embrace the giant man.

Hagrid chuckled, patting Harry on the back with enough force to nearly send the boy flying. "Alright there, Harry? Good ter see yeh. Now, come on—boats are waitin'!"

James took a moment to observe the sheer presence Hagrid had. That man could wrestle a bear and still have time for tea, he mused.

The students were herded toward the edge of a vast, inky-black lake where small boats bobbed gently on the water, lanterns swaying with each ripple.

"No more than four to a boat!" Hagrid bellowed.

James, Harry, and Ron climbed into one of the wooden vessels, soon joined by a round-faced boy who looked particularly anxious.

"H-hi, I'm Neville. Neville Longbottom," the boy stammered, gripping the edge of the boat as if expecting it to capsize at any moment.

"James Dawson," James introduced himself, offering a nod.

The boats glided forward on their own, cutting across the glassy surface. As they drifted, the castle came into view, standing tall against the night sky. Turrets and towers reached for the heavens, glowing warmly from the many windows scattered across its stone face. It was a sight so breathtaking that even Ron—who had grown up hearing stories about Hogwarts—fell silent in awe.

James watched the reflection of the castle in the water, the golden lights dancing on the lake's surface. Now that's an entrance.

Once ashore, the students were led up towards the vast, iron-wrought gates of Hogwarts. Just as James was admiring the intricate carvings, several ghostly figures swooped through the air, their transparent forms drifting lazily above the group.

Ron shuddered. "I heard—" he began in a hushed voice, "that before we get sorted, we have to fight a troll."

Neville turned an unhealthy shade of green. "W-what?"

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "A troll? In a school full of children? Seems like a solid way to tank the student survival rate."

Ron frowned. "That's what Fred and George told me."

James sighed. "Right. Because they're very reliable sources of information."

Before Ron could argue, an unmistakably pompous voice cut through the crowd.

"So it's true then—Harry Potter has come to Hogwarts."

James turned to see a pale, sneering boy with slicked-back blonde hair sauntering toward them, flanked by two burly boys .

Draco Malfoy gave Harry an appraising look before introducing himself. "This is Crabbe, this is Goyle, and I'm Malfoy. Draco Malfoy."

Ron snorted. James had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing.

Malfoy's grey eyes flicked toward Ron, narrowing with distaste. "Think my name's funny, do you? I've no need to ask yours—red hair, hand-me-down robes… you must be a Weasley."

Ron bristled but said nothing.

Malfoy turned back to Harry, his expression smug. "You'll soon find that some wizarding families are better than others, Potter. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there." He extended his hand.

Harry didn't even hesitate. "I think I can tell the wrong sort for myself, thanks."

James had to admit—Harry had a solid backbone. Malfoy's smirk twitched before he pulled his hand back, glowering. Before he could say anything else, Professor McGonagall's sharp voice rang out.

"We are ready for you now. Follow me."

Draco shot one last glare before slinking away with Crabbe and Goyle.

The students followed McGonagall through the grand entrance hall, their footsteps echoing off the towering stone walls. Hogwarts was even more magnificent inside—moving staircases in the distance, enchanted candles floating midair, and the lingering hum of centuries-old magic.

Professor McGonagall led them to the front of a grand set of doors, then turned to address the group.

"Welcome to Hogwarts." Her voice was firm, her presence commanding. "Now, in a few moments, you will pass through these doors and join your classmates. But before you can take your seats, you must be sorted into your houses."

She began listing them off, her tone crisp and precise. "Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Your house will be like your family. Your triumphs will earn you points. Any rule-breaking, and you will lose points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points will be awarded the House Cup."

Before she could continue, Neville suddenly gasped. "Trevor!"

A small, squirming toad sat near McGonagall's feet. Neville lunged forward, scooping up his lost pet while a few students chuckled.

McGonagall gave him a look before sighing. "The Sorting Ceremony will begin momentarily." With that, she turned .

As Professor McGonagall led the first-years into the Great Hall, James couldn't help but feel a mixture of excitement and amusement. The vast, candle-lit ceiling above them shimmered with the night sky, an illusion so seamless it would have put even the best stage magicians to shame.

Hermione: "It's not real, the ceiling. It's just bewitched to look like the night sky. I read about it in Hogwarts: A History."

James bit back a chuckle. Of course, you did. The girl is practically radiated an "I-have-read-everything" aura.

At the front of the hall, a ragged old hat sat on a stool, looking about as alive as something that had been fished out of a rubbish bin. So, this is the legendary Sorting Hat? I was expecting something a bit more… regal. Or at least a bit less… frayed.

Before anything else, Dumbledore stood up, his eyes twinkling .

Dumbledore: "I have a few start-of-term notices I wish to announce. First years, please note that the Dark Forest is strictly forbidden to all students. Also, our caretaker, Mr. Filch, has asked me to remind you that the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a most painful death. Thank you."

Then came the dreaded sorting. Hermione Granger was up first.

Sorting Hat: "Ah, right then… hmm… right. Okay. Gryffindor!"

[She practically skipped off the stage.]

Draco Malfoy strutted up like he already knew where he was going.

Sorting Hat: "Slytherin!"

[James wasn't surprised. The hat barely had time to touch the boy's head before throwing him in there.]

Ron: "There isn't a witch or wizard who went bad who wasn't in Slytherin."

James raised a brow. Bit dramatic, Ron. Not all Slytherins are evil—just... statistically suspect. wizard world black man .

Ron was sorted into Gryffindor next. When his name was called, James nudged him forward.

James: "Go on, Ron, stop chatting."

Then, finally…

McGonagall: "James Dawson."

James walked forward, standing tall, but inwardly bracing himself. The second the hat touched his head, a voice purred in his mind.

Sorting Hat: "Oh, a difficult one… Where to put you? Slytherin seems the obvious choice, but you also have Ravenclaw and Gryffindor tendencies…"

James (firmly): "Not Slytherin. Gryffindor."

The hat chuckled. "Determined, are we? Yes… I see. Ambition, intelligence, but a strong heart. Very well—if you're sure…"

Sorting Hat: "Better be… GRYFFINDOR!"

[Loud applause erupted from the Gryffindor table.]

James smirked slightly, stepping down to join his new housemates. Well, that's one step to ensuring I stay on the 'hero' track.

Then came the moment everyone was waiting for.

McGonagall: "Harry Potter."

The entire hall went dead silent. James watched as Harry hesitated, then approached the stool. The hat took a long time with him, but in the end—

Sorting Hat: "Gryffindor!"

The entire Gryffindor table burst into cheers.

Fred & George: "We got Potter! We got Potter!"

James chuckled. Yes, because Hogwarts revolves around one lad. No pressure, Harry.

When the sorting was finally done, McGonagall signaled for attention.

McGonagall: "Your attention, please."

Dumbledore rose once more, smiling benevolently.

Dumbledore: "Let the feast... begin."

And just like that, food magically appeared across the tables. Roasted chicken, mashed potatoes, golden Yorkshire puddings—it was like Christmas dinner had exploded across the room.

Harry: "Wow."

James mirrored his reaction. Alright, fair play. This is impressive.

Ron, predictably, wasted no time stuffing his face.

Just as James was about to reach for some roast beef, a ghost popped up from the table.

Ron: "Ahh!"

[Nearly chokes on a chicken wing.]

Sir Nicholas: "Hello! How are you? Welcome to Gryffindor."

James raised an eyebrow. Ah yes, casual ghostly interruptions. Lovely.

Percy: "Hello, Sir Nicholas. Have a nice summer?"

Sir Nicholas: "Dismal. Once again, my request to join the Headless Hunt has been denied."

Hermione: "Nearly headless? How can you be nearly headless?"

Sir Nicholas: "Like this."

[He grabs his head and tilts it, showing it's still attached by a thread.]

Ron gagged. James simply sighed. Yes, that's exactly what I wanted to see while eating. Lovely.

After the feast, Percy led the Gryffindors up the moving staircases.

Percy: "This is the most direct path to the dormitories. Oh, and keep an eye on the staircases. They like to change."

As if on cue, one of the staircases swung to the side, shifting its entire structure. James watched in horrified fascination.

The portraits lining the halls moved and whispered amongst themselves. One particularly nosy one even giggled.

Harry: "I think she fancies you."

James raised an eyebrow at the painted lady. Well, at least I can say I got attention on my first day.

Finally, they reached the entrance to Gryffindor Tower, where a large painting of a woman in pink awaited them.

The Fat Lady: "Password?"

Percy: "Caput Draconis."

The portrait swung open, revealing a cozy common room with roaring fires and plush armchairs.

Percy: "Gather around. Boys' dormitory is upstairs, to the left. Girls, same on the right. Your belongings have already been brought up."

James sighed in relief. Finally. Somewhere to rest before another round of madness tomorrow.