Swinging The Great Sword At Hogwarts

Chapter 05 The Trio’s First Meeting and Hogwarts

It wasn’t until the train had been moving for a while that Neville and Hermione returned.

“You won’t believe who I just saw, John!” Neville said, his words tripping over themselves in his excitement, leaving John thoroughly confused.

Thankfully, Hermione was quick to clarify, her voice crisp and precise as ever. “Harry Potter. The Boy Who Lived. He’s on the train too.”

Recalling the rather ordinary-looking boy she’d spotted earlier, Hermione tilted her head in a rather self-satisfied way. “He’s not as impressive as the stories make him out to be.”

Neville, however, was quick to defend. “But my gran says Harry Potter defeated You-Know-Who! He saved the wizarding world!”

And with that, the two of them began to bicker.

It was only then that John realized what he’d missed. The legendary first meeting of the trio had just happened in another compartment.

A flicker of regret passed through him. How could he have forgotten?

The train chugged on for hours, until at last, as darkness settled over the landscape, they arrived at Hogwarts.

Following Hermione’s lead, John changed into his school robes. His already striking appearance took on an even more mysterious air with the robes draped around him.

Before they even stepped off the train, John caught sight of Hagrid’s massive figure through the window, his lantern glowing in the night like a beacon. It was impossible to miss him.

As the young witches and wizards disembarked, many gasped in awe at Hagrid’s towering size. The older students, meanwhile, moved in orderly fashion under the guidance of their prefects.

John couldn’t help but notice the boy with a shock of red hair standing next to Harry. That red hair made it obvious—the boy was a Weasley. It was unmistakable.

The new students followed Hagrid as he led them towards Hogwarts. Once they boarded the boats on the Black Lake, John casually reminded Neville, “Neville, did you find your toad?”

Neville’s round face froze. In his excitement at seeing Harry, he’d completely forgotten about his missing toad, Trevor. Now, realizing Trevor was still lost, Neville was on the verge of tears.

But as the one responsible for this whole situation, John remained perfectly calm. He remembered that Trevor would eventually show up at the entrance to Hogwarts. Watching the films, John had always been curious where exactly Trevor disappeared to. Lost on the train, yet somehow reappearing at Hogwarts—maybe the toad had some magical creature blood in him?

Magical creatures were one of the wonders of the wizarding world, and a key reason why this world was so rich and vibrant.

“Watch yer heads,” Hagrid’s booming voice rang out, startling Hermione and Neville, who quickly ducked. John, however, remained unfazed, realizing soon after that only someone of Hagrid’s size actually needed to duck.

After crossing the Black Lake, the young wizards and witches arrived at Hogwarts. The thousand-year-old magical school stood before them, an ancient castle filled with mystery and wonder, especially under the cover of night.

The young witches and wizards climbed the ancient steps steeped in history. At the entrance, Professor McGonagall stood waiting with a stern expression. Unlike her previous visit to Wick’s home, this time she wore a black pointed witch’s hat, adding to her already formidable presence. She nodded slightly to Hagrid before speaking in her no-nonsense tone, “Welcome to Hogwarts.”

Ding! A notification sounded in John’s mind as the system activated:

Hogwarts Stage Task 1: Survive your first year as a magical apprentice. Task Rewards: +1 Blood of Magic, +2 Skill Points

(Note: Completing corresponding tasks grants additional rewards.)

As McGonagall welcomed them, John received the prompt from his system. His mind drifted, and his eyes glazed over like a student lost in thought during a lecture. In front of him, a transparent panel appeared, as if written on glass, showing four simple categories:

Magic: Level 1 (0/100)

Spells: Alohomora (Level 3)

Skills: Short Weapon Mastery (Level 7), Long Weapon Mastery (Level 6), Heavy Weapon Mastery (Level 3), Firearm Mastery (Level 1)

Enhancements: Body Strengthening, Swift Attack, Precision

John blinked to clear his dry eyes. After returning from Diagon Alley, he’d spent a month practicing magic and had leveled up the Unlocking Charm (Alohomora) to Level 3, unlocking a new stat for spells.

At level 1, Alohomora could only unlock simple latches and bolts. By level 2, John could open door locks, and by level 3, he had already cracked his dad’s secretly stashed safe. Thanks to that, he not only discovered the hidden handgun but also gained level 1 in firearm proficiency.

Meanwhile, Professor McGonagall was explaining the four houses of Hogwarts, but John wasn’t paying much attention, already familiar with it all. Neville suddenly spotted his lost toad, Trevor, on the stairs and, to his embarrassment, let out a loud shout before running to retrieve it. His outburst drew giggles from the surrounding first-years, making Neville retreat awkwardly back into the group.

After McGonagall left to prepare for the Sorting Ceremony, a young Draco Malfoy, slicked back in his signature hairstyle, approached Harry Potter with an air of arrogance that only a pureblood could carry. “Draco Malfoy,” he introduced himself, pride practically oozing out of him as he stood on the steps with his ever-present henchmen, Crabbe and Goyle, flanking him.

Ron Weasley couldn’t help but let out a snort of derision at Malfoy’s pompous display. It wasn’t loud, but just enough for Malfoy to hear. The rivalry between them was instant, as though they were destined to dislike each other from the start.

Recognizing Ron as a Weasley, Malfoy sneered without the slightest attempt to hide his contempt. “Red hair, hand-me-down robes, you must be a Weasley.”

Ron, clearly hurt, looked down. The Weasley family was large—seven children in total—so naturally, they had to make do with whatever they could pass down. Satisfied with mocking Ron, Malfoy turned his attention to Harry, trying to win him over.

“You’ll soon find that some wizarding families are better than others. Potter, you don’t want to make friends with the wrong sort. I can help you with that.”

For Draco Malfoy, extending his hand to offer friendship was a rare gesture, especially considering his pride. But his words grated on John. Hearing the conversation in person—Malfoy’s arrogance and disdain for anyone not of pureblood—was far more aggravating than it had been when watching from afar. The urge to punch that smug face was strong.

Malfoy seemed to have forgotten one crucial detail: Harry was already friends with Ron, and no one likes it when their friends are insulted.

“I think I can tell the wrong sort for myself, thanks,” Harry replied, flatly rejecting Malfoy’s offer, which made the latter’s face twist with anger.

As the tension between Harry and Malfoy brewed, John shook his head quietly from the sidelines. “That’s not how you make friends, Draco.”

Moving forward, John casually stepped closer to Neville. Hermione, noticing, thought John might be upset by Malfoy’s words and worried he might start a fight. But her concern was unnecessary. Just as things seemed to escalate, Professor McGonagall returned and lined them up for the Sorting Ceremony.

As they entered the Great Hall, John couldn’t help but marvel at the enchanted ceiling reflecting the night sky, with hundreds of floating candles illuminating the room. Four long tables stretched across the hall, each filled with students wearing robes adorned with their house colors. Gryffindor in red and gold, Ravenclaw in blue and gray, Slytherin in green and silver, and Hufflepuff in yellow and black. Above them, four large hourglasses represented the house points, gleaming in the candlelight.

John tuned out Hermione’s endless chatter about Hogwarts: A History, understanding why Harry and Ron initially found her unbearable. But as someone older, John didn’t feel annoyed—if anything, he found it somewhat endearing.

Instead, his attention was drawn to the bearded man sitting at the head table. Albus Dumbledore. More than just the Headmaster of Hogwarts, Dumbledore was the single most powerful figure in the wizarding world. The one even two generations of Dark Lords feared.

John’s curious gaze caught Dumbledore’s eye, and the old wizard, never one to lack humor, gave him a playful wink.