They all sat together at the table in Godric's Hollow. Harry and Nico had only arrived home a few hours ago. To celebrate, their parents, Sirius and Sarah with Jamie and Marlene, as well as Remus and Dora, were invited. The table was a typical chaos, with Nico telling his father everything he had been up to. Sirius and Jamie listened just as eagerly, and Jamie sulked a bit because he still had a few years to wait before he could go to Hogwarts.
Tiara and Marlene sat happily grinning next to each other, repeatedly looking expectantly at Harry. This behavior made Harry nervous. While the others had already started eating, Harry focused intently on his plate, inspecting his food.
"Do you have a problem, Harry?" his mum asked.
"Did you leave Tiara alone with the food?" he asked back. "Or Marlene?"
His mum rolled her eyes and glanced briefly at his sister and Marlene. "Tiara wouldn't dare do anything to the food," she assured him. "So start eating."
"What about our birthday party this year, Mum? The cake?" Harry asked innocently, noticing Tiara grinning even wider. The alarm bells in his head grew louder.
His mum seemed momentarily uncertain and glanced once more at the girls, who had quickly immersed themselves in a conversation with Dora.
"Eat, Harry. Besides breakfast, you haven't had anything decent today," she said, turning away, and Harry ate everything on his plate except the meat.
"What do you think of Hogwarts' library, Harry?" Remus asked as his mum magically cleared the table.
"It's definitely the largest library I've ever seen. But I find it somewhat unfortunate that there's the Forbidden Section. I mean, why cut us students off from knowledge?" Harry asked him.
Remus seemed to ponder Harry's question for a moment. "It does seem unfair, I'll give you that, Harry. But the Forbidden Section contains a lot of dangerous stuff. You wouldn't be able to handle everything yet. Hogwarts is trying to protect you," Remus explained.
"But I don't need protection. If other students are too stupid and try things that aren't meant for them, then that's not my problem," Harry retorted defiantly.
Remus chuckled and grinned. "I was just as curious as you. Your dad and Sirius used to tease me about why I didn't go to Ravenclaw."
"For dessert, I made ice cream myself," his mum said as she returned with dessert. She quickly began filling small bowls and passing them out to everyone.
"And what trouble are you in, Harry, that Albus wants to come over tomorrow evening with Minerva and Snape to talk to you and us?" his dad asked, a smirk on his face.
"Grandfather's coming?" Harry asked, not expecting the conversation to turn so quickly, but then again, maybe it was for the best. After all, the documents still needed to be signed and returned, he needed new school supplies, and he would like to take a look at the textbooks beforehand. At least in Creation, World Politics, and Dark Arts, he would be behind. Okay, maybe not Dark Arts, since Professor had taught him a lot during their duels. But he would never openly admit that.
"Yes, he sent us a letter this afternoon. Do you know what it's about?" his dad asked.
Just then, Dora started babbling wildly. Shortly after, Nico and Jamie joined in. Soon, everyone else at the table was also talking nonsense. Harry included. Tiara and Marlene must have somehow gotten their hands on a dose of Babble Potion and were now sitting at the table, tears streaming down their faces from laughter. Instead of postponing the main course, they had chosen dessert. Point to his little sister, Harry admitted grudgingly.
The positive side was that his father was distracted for the moment.
"We thought we'd invite your friends over for New Year's Eve this year," Dad said the next morning during breakfast. "Albus is preparing letters that will act as Portkeys, and your friends can come here bypassing the Fidelius. They won't know the secret, but since the Portkey is created by the Secret-Keeper, people can still come in," he explained.
"That's cool. But besides Ron and his family, I don't really need anyone from school to come," Nico said excitedly.
"Harry?" Mum asked.
"Um, I don't really need anyone from school to come either," Harry said, quickly finishing his drink. "I have something to take care of," he said, getting up quickly.
As Harry left the kitchen, Lily and James looked at each other, puzzled. "Why doesn't Harry want to invite anyone?" Lily asked the group.
"I don't know. Do you know anything, Nico?" James asked, looking at his son.
"No," Nico said hesitantly.
"Has something happened at Hogwarts?" Lily immediately worried.
"No, not that I know of. We just don't spend much time together," Nico said, trying to think of a quick way to leave.
"What do you mean you don't do much together?" James asked his son.
"It's a bit complicated, Dad. We don't have many classes together, and when we have free time, Harry prefers to sit in the library. I did try to get him to come with me and Ron, but he didn't want to," he explained.
"Okay... But you must know who his friends are at Hogwarts. Maybe we can invite someone as a surprise for him," Lily said, looking attentively at her son.
Nico realized he genuinely didn't know who his brother's friends were at Hogwarts. He only knew Malfoy from Slytherin and was relieved that Harry hadn't befriended the arrogant blond boy.
"I don't know," he said slowly, feeling guilty.
Over the table, Lily and James looked at each other with concern. This didn't sound good at all. Maybe Slytherin wasn't the right house for their son after all. Nico quickly got up and went upstairs.
"We need to talk to him, James," Lily urged.
"I think so too. Maybe we can ask Albus later if he's noticed anything after we've spoken to him and Harry," James replied. "Maybe that's what the conversation is about. Harry didn't answer my question last night at all," James said, surprised.
Albus, Severus, and Minerva arrived in Godric's Hollow promptly at noon. Lily brewed a pot of tea. Together with Sirius, Sarah, Remus, Dora, and the other children, they sat in the Potter family dining room.
"What's this about, Albus? Harry hasn't told us anything," Lily asked.
Albus looked at Harry, who was sitting at the table with his brother and Tiara, and raised his eyebrows.
"I don't want to go back to Hogwarts," Harry said calmly into the room.
"WHAT?!" Nico, Tiara, Jamie, and Sirius asked simultaneously.
"Why?" his parents asked, horrified. Remus, Dora, and Sarah just sat there, waiting.
"Harry, why don't you want to go back to Hogwarts?" his father asked more clearly.
"Why don't I just start explaining?" Albus asked, leaning back a bit. "Harry here came to my office three weeks ago and asked for an interim report. As headmaster, I'm obligated to provide one upon request, so I gave it to him. I asked Harry what he wanted it for, and then he told me he wants to leave Hogwarts and go to Durmstrang. I promised Harry not to tell you anything about it yet, and he promised me to inform me about a response from Durmstrang. That response came yesterday morning. As far as I know, you've been accepted, Harry?" he asked, and Harry nodded.
"Harry, why don't you want to go back to Hogwarts?" his mother asked him. Harry could see a dark premonition in her eyes.
"I just don't like Hogwarts. I don't feel comfortable there," he said with a quiet but firm voice.
"But I don't understand, Harry. Why? Please give us a reason," his mum asked again, sounding desperate.
"I'm far ahead of everyone else. I get bored in class. I don't want to wait through countless lessons for everyone in the class to manage to transform their matchstick. I could do that in the first hour. The other hours, I had to wait for the other students. So why should I participate in class when I just read books from the library? At Durmstrang, students learn much more. The professors encourage their students to undertake advanced projects. There are many more subjects," Harry tried to explain.
"I saw you once in the library with a fourth-year Transfiguration book. That wasn't a one-time thing, was it, Harry?" his brother asked, bewildered, looking at him.
His gaze reached Nico. "But Harry, how did you manage to be so far ahead of your classmates?" Albus asked him, sounding shocked.
"I started reading Mum's old textbooks years ago. I never had problems with the theory. If I did, I could find a suitable book in Sirius's library that would help me understand the theory," he explained to them. Sirius looked surprised at him. He knew his godson was often in his library growing up, but he never thought Harry was so deliberately studying.
"But theory is quite different from practice. How can you be so good at magic already? As far as I know, you only got your wand a month before you came to Hogwarts," Minerva asked again.
"When I learned the theory, I memorized the wand movements and practiced with a Zonko's trick wand. When I got my real wand, it took me two, maybe three tries to get the spells right," Harry admitted.
"Impressive. I can't say I had such control over my powers at your age," Albus said thoughtfully. Harry strongly reminded him of another boy who was immensely talented and had problems. Back then, to his shame, he had looked away and left the boy to himself. A mistake he never wanted to repeat. Especially not with the boy who was like a grandson to him.
"Why didn't you come to one of us, then?" Minerva asked him sadly.
"But I did! I went to you and asked for additional materials. I also went to Professor Snape and Professor Flitwick. But you all refused to help me and told me to wait until next year," Harry said to her, noticing how her eyes briefly widened before looking at him again with pity.
"Harry, I spoke with some of your professors and asked them if they could spare some time for you. Professor Snape offered to let you help him brew potions for the infirmary in the afternoons. As you know, those are advanced potions," Albus said, and Harry cautiously looked at his Potions master. Snape had been sitting quietly at the table until then and hadn't said a single word. He also seemed somewhat uncomfortable on 'hostile' territory.
"I believe you are capable of brewing reasonably decent potions and handling the task," Professor Snape explained calmly. "A talent you undoubtedly inherited from your mother," he added dryly, and Harry saw his father tense up, about to say something in return. His mum saw that too and nudged her elbow into his ribs, hissing, "Not now!"
"Thank you, Professor. Really, I'm aware that you would never make such offers to a student, but unfortunately, that doesn't solve my problem," Harry said, addressing the last part to the whole group.
"I would still have to attend classes and get bored. Even if I now receive some extra lessons. At Durmstrang, it won't happen to me as quickly."
"But at Durmstrang, you would also have to attend classes with the first-year students, Harry. The school also doesn't allow students to skip grades," Albus explained calmly.
"But Durmstrang's curriculum is more rigorous. What we learn in the fourth year at Hogwarts is taught in the second year at Durmstrang. Of course, the first year in the core subjects would be somewhat boring, but Durmstrang offers many more subjects than Hogwarts. Subjects that I have no idea about and in which the others now have a slight advantage. I can use my proficiency in Transfiguration, Charms, Potions, and Defense to focus on the new subjects in my free time and catch up with the others in my class. By the time I reach the second year, I'll only be minimally ahead. At least by Durmstrang's standards. By Hogwarts standards, I'd still be miles ahead," Harry tried to make his point clear.
"But why Durmstrang, Harry?" Sirius asked. "They teach Dark Arts there, you know? If you went to Beauxbatons, at least you'd have a bunch of pretty French girls in your class."
"Beauxbatons' curriculum isn't as strict as Durmstrang's. And at Durmstrang, you're encouraged to showcase your abilities. There's a project class where you can freely express yourself. Since Durmstrang teaches Dark Arts, there's also no restricted section in the library, and I can learn whatever I want without restrictions. At Hogwarts, I couldn't even look up the Polyjuice Potion because it's supposedly too advanced for my age," Harry explained. "That's not protection, Remus, Hogwarts is just putting obstacles in my way," he said to his uncle, seeing him sadly hang his head.
"Harry, how do you know all this?" Albus asked. "This certainly isn't common knowledge, and I don't know of any book in the library that could give you such a good picture of the institute."
Harry froze slightly. Professor Quirrell and he had discussed whether it was really good if Albus or his parents knew that Quirrell had taught him so much. After all, Harry now knew a few dark curses that no first-year Hogwarts student should know.
"I contacted the school back in early November and inquired about what the school could offer me," he said, reciting the rehearsed answer and not even looking in Albus's direction out of fear of being caught in the lie.
"I'm amazed that Ivan Karkaroff took the time to respond to you. Normally, he's not so accommodating and avoids contact with his students," Albus said.
"His deputy took the time," Harry quickly lied.
"Karkaroff? Harry, I'm not sending you to a school led by a Death Eater!" his dad said.
"Ivan Karkaroff, Dad. Not Igor Karkaroff. He has nothing to do with the Death Eaters or Grandfather?" Harry asked with his best innocent look.
Albus looked at him for a moment before turning to his father. "Harry is right, Ivan Karkaroff is not a known follower of Voldemort. As far as I know, he also has no contact with his brother Igor."
"No. We're not sending you to a school that's dangerous, Harry! We don't know if Ivan Karkaroff is a Death Eater or not. What if he harms you?" his mother asked, horrified.
"He can't. The professors and the headmaster all had to swear a magical oath when they took their respective positions. They can't harm students arbitrarily. They must remain objective and fair and must not let old feuds or anything else get in the way," Harry immediately tried to reassure them.
"What oath?" Dora asked around.
"Durmstrang is a school with a catchment area throughout Europe – probably even worldwide. To exclude arbitrary abuse by professors, the staff must swear an oath before taking office. Any problems with a student – be it due to a blood feud, different sides in a war, or anything else – must be disregarded. However, that doesn't mean you're safe there, Harry. Durmstrang can still punish its students for rule violations," Albus explained to them and added the last point for the boy.
"I never got into trouble at Hogwarts. I won't at Durmstrang either! I promise," Harry begged.
"And what about the other students, Harry? What if they drag you into something? Besides, Durmstrang is attended by some questionable students," his father intervened again.
Harry was glad he had prepared this conversation with his professor, so he started rattling off a list of names. "Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle, Nott, Parkinson, Travers, Avery. I currently share a dormitory with the first four names," he added dryly in his best Snape tone.
"Those are children, Harry. That's not to say they can't be dangerous, but you're safe at Hogwarts," his father argued.
"The students at Durmstrang are also just children."
"You're forgetting Karkaroff."
"Ivan Karkaroff is not a Death Eater. His brother is one. Innocent until proven guilty," Harry said, turning his grandfather's old words against them.
"I'll be honest, Harry. I don't like the idea of you leaving Hogwarts, but we won't send you to a school that's dangerous, period," his mother said, looking at him sternly but pityingly.
"Durmstrang isn't dangerous!" he exclaimed desperately into the room. His parents looked at him sadly, but Harry could see that they were far from allowing him to make the switch. He looked at his godfather, but Sirius also looked at him sadly. The professors looked at him pityingly, and Harry knew they wouldn't lift a finger to help him. Slowly, he let his gaze wander over the others. No one moved to help him.
Suddenly, anger and despair rose within him. He hadn't received any help from his professors when he asked for it; now they didn't want to help him again. He had confessed in front of everyone that he had no friends. He had sat down here and talked about his problems in front of everyone, about how he was suffering – and yet no one wanted to help him.
There was a loud bang as all the windows in the room shattered into a thousand pieces. Even the display case and his mother's fine wine glasses shattered. His father, Sirius, and Dora, the Aurors in the room, immediately jumped up and erected shields in front of him, Nico, Tiara, Marlene, and Jamie. Remus was a bit slow, and a shard of glass grazed his left cheek, leaving a red line that started to bleed.
Harry didn't care about any of that. He looked directly into his grandfather's eyes and wanted the room to feel his despair.
Albus was overcome with deep sorrow. Harry didn't feel comfortable at Hogwarts, and no matter what he did, he wouldn't feel comfortable there in the future either. With this conversation, they had cornered him like an animal, and his only way out was to fight and flee forward. His battle was taken from him by his magic as everything glass in the dining room shattered. Why were they all so blind? Harry was incredibly talented and powerful. He needed someone to guide him, someone to further his education and show him the right path. Memories of another boy in the exact same situation resurfaced in Albus. He couldn't allow that.
"Durmstrang is not a dangerous school," said Albus Dumbledore slowly and softly. "When they saw how far Gellert Grindelwald had sunk into dark magic, they expelled him from the school. It's true that dark magic is taught there, but the school has its limits."
Lily and James exchanged looks, startled by their son's outburst, feeling desperate for being unable to help him. "Are you sure, Albus?" James asked heavily.
"The school still looks after its students despite everything, James."
Harry saw defeat in his parents' eyes. He knew they didn't like the idea of him going to Durmstrang, but they would let him go because they loved him. And for that, Harry would be forever grateful to his parents.
It was Saturday evening, and Harry stood in his room before his packed suitcase. He checked one last time if he had everything.
On the same day as the conversation, Harry filled out and sent the paperwork for the transfer with his parents. Then he arranged for a Russian tutor with his father. Although there was a spell Harry could use to learn, it only helped with learning and had to be renewed regularly. Harry needed constant exposure to the language to learn it using the spell and to master the language himself after a short period.
Benji Fenwick, a member of the Order, had Russian roots and helped Harry learn the language. Before Christmas, he came over, and the two sat for hours in the kitchen of Godric's Hollow. He first explained that the Russian language had different roots and therefore had a completely new alphabet. He explained the grammar and gave him a gigantic list of vocabulary. After almost 10 hours, he went home, promising to come back the next day.
The next day, they tried out the spell, and Harry continued to learn the vocabulary. He felt it was much easier with the spell. The vocabulary came to him effortlessly, and he felt he was getting a sense of the language. He somehow felt how the sentences were structured and how he had to modify them.
Benji came almost every day during his holidays. Initially, he stayed for up to 10 hours. In the end, when Harry was already getting better, he stayed only for four to five hours. But that was enough; he could read, write, understand, and especially speak the language properly. Harry wasn't fluent yet, but he would be after one or two months at the institute.
On the first day after Christmas, Harry went alone with his parents to Diagon Alley. On Christmas morning, an owl came, bringing him his Portkey to the school and a list of required items. Among them was his new school uniform - black trousers with a black shirt and a red robe. For the colder times and for outdoors, there was a warm fur coat, adorned with several warming spells. Harry couldn't imagine ever being so cold as to wear that thing. During the fitting at Madam Malkin's, he hadn't even closed the coat, and he was already sweating. They bought four sets, three of which had found their way into his suitcase. The last one hung over his chair so he could wear it the next day.
On top of the uniforms were his many school books. He didn't need a single textbook from Hogwarts for Durmstrang, so his parents had to buy him 10 new ones. Just in his first year, Harry had five more subjects than at Hogwarts - Dark Arts, Creation, World Politics, Projects, and Swordsmanship. Along with the core subjects, he had 11 different subjects.
Harry was most concerned about Creation. When Benji arrived one evening earlier, he took the time to read the first chapters. He already knew that Creation would be difficult, and he would have to work hard to catch up with the others. As far as he could tell, the language of the spell made a big difference in the strength of the spell. Then one couldn't just perform any wand movement for the spell. Lastly, even the wood of the wand played a role, much to Harry's surprise. But as he thought about it more, it made sense. He knew that his father's and Nico's wands were made of mahogany and were particularly good for Transfiguration. Harry admitted he hadn't fully understood the theory of Creation yet, but he at least had a rough idea of what to expect.
Harry wasn't directly afraid of Swordsmanship, but he had respect for it. He looked forward to learning the art properly but was also afraid of embarrassing himself. Especially since his classmates had a head start in this subject too. He wasn't worried about Dark Arts. He had already read through the first chapters and was pleased to find that Professor Quirrel had already taught him some of what he needed. World Politics would be easy, and Harry had to wait and see about Projects. Actually, there wasn't much to teach for Projects, and he couldn't imagine that many class hours were scheduled for it.
A soft knock interrupted Harry's thoughts. "Yes?" he called out, watching as his little sister cautiously peeked her head into his room and then entered.
"Are you okay?" Harry asked her. He had already noticed at the dinner with Sirius and Sarah that Tiara was terribly quiet. Even Marlene didn't seem to be able to cheer her up properly.
Tiara sighed loudly and looked at the floor. Now Harry was worried about his little sister; this behavior didn't suit her. She looked up again and said softly, "This time it feels like a real goodbye."
Harry looked at Tiara perplexed.
"When you and Nico went to Hogwarts, it was okay. I knew you'd be back for Christmas, and I knew where you were. Above all, I knew that one day I would go to Hogwarts too. But now that you're going to Durmstrang, it feels like you won't be here anymore. Like you're far away. I already miss you, Harry," she explained sadly.
Harry went to Tiara and hugged her. "I'll always be there for you, Tiara. I'll always watch over you. We'll write letters, okay? Besides, I'll be back in the summer. I'll come home during the holidays just like I would have done at Hogwarts," he tried to cheer Tiara up.
She sniffed once and wiped her eyes with her hands. "I know, but I miss you anyway," she stubbornly laughed.
He smiled at Tiara and hugged her tightly once more.
The next morning, everything went quickly. After breakfast with his parents, Harry went to his room to change into his school uniform and get his suitcase. When he came back to the kitchen, dressed and with his things, his family got up from the table, and Harry hugged them all tightly once more.
"Harry, don't forget to write to me," Tiara whispered softly in his ear as he hugged her. "I won't forget. I promise," he replied just as softly.
"If you don't like it at Durmstrang, you can always come back to Hogwarts," Nico said. "Grandfather will definitely let you come back."
"I don't think I'll ever go back to Hogwarts, Nico," Harry said to him, noticing his smile briefly fade before he put it back on.
"Behave yourself, Nico. Otherwise, Grandfather might throw you out of school, and then you'll have to go to Durmstrang too," Nico rolled his eyes and smiled for real this time.
"Nah. Grandfather won't throw me out of school," he said cheekily.
"Are you sure you have everything, Harry?" his Mum asked.
"Sure. I checked it twice," he smiled at her.
"When does the Portkey leave?" Dad asked.
"At half past nine. So we still have about ten minutes," Harry said after performing a quick Tempus charm. "The Portkey will take me to the grounds, but not inside the building. According to the letter from the school, someone will be waiting for me there. Wherever 'there' is. They still haven't told me that," Harry explained to them again, even though they already knew.
"You'll probably only find out where the school is exactly once you're at Durmstrang. Not even Albus was allowed to visit the school," Mum said.
"I bet it's Siberia. You're supposed to know Russian, and if you look at your coats, it's probably cold there. So Siberia. Wait until you freeze your butt off there, then you'll wish you stayed at Hogwarts," Nico grinned.
Harry just rolled his eyes in response.
"I don't think it's too cold at Durmstrang," his Mum said. "Durmstrang is a school for pure-blood children, and I've found that pure-blood children are usually spoiled."
"Hey! What's that supposed to mean?" Dad exclaimed.
"Just that you were all spoiled little brats back then, getting everything from your parents," Mum grinned.
"My parents just loved me," Dad said with a crooked grin, winking at us.
"Alright, back to the point, Harry. I assume all this fuss about winter clothing is just that – fuss. I think you're much closer to Moscow," Mum said.
"Okay..." he said, looking at the clock again.
"I wish you a good train journey, Nico, see you in the summer."
"Until summer, Harry," said Nico.
"Write to us," his Mum said, hugging him once more.
"Behave yourself," Dad said, hugging him last.
Harry picked up the letter from Durmstrang, draped the coat over his arm, and held his suitcase in the other hand. So he waited for the Portkey to activate and take him to his new life at Durmstrang.
Finally, Harry felt a slight tug behind his navel, and then he was suddenly drawn into a wild whirlpool. He had been traveling by Portkey since he was little and knew the feeling. Usually, it was quick, and you landed after a few seconds, but this time, Harry felt like he was rotating for ages.
Finally, Harry felt the end approaching and prepared for the landing. He was thrown onto an uneven surface and barely managed to catch himself before falling. Immediately, he felt a biting cold and set down his suitcase to put on his coat.
"Ready?" asked an irritated voice from behind in Russian. Harry turned around and saw an older man with an unkempt beard. He was also wearing thick winter clothing and stood slightly bent in front of him. "Potter?" he asked in the same tone.
"Yes, sir," Harry replied respectfully.
"I am Sergey Ivanov. I will accompany you to the castle," he said, turning around without waiting for a response and walked ahead. Harry hurried to follow him.
On the way, Harry looked around. It seemed like he had landed on some rocks. Behind him, he could see cliffs and the sea – which one, he wasn't sure yet. In any case, Harry could rule out his mother's theory; he was definitely not in Moscow. It seemed very dark here too; it was early morning, and the sky was lightly overcast, but Harry would have guessed it was five o'clock in the afternoon in the winter months instead of early morning.
"Where are we, sir?" Harry asked the professor.
The professor turned briefly and gave Harry a sharp look. "We are on an island northeast of Norway and near the border with Russia called Kobbholmen. The entire island belongs to Durmstrang; Muggles think the island is uninhabitable and don't even try to come here," he explained nonetheless.
An island of their own on the northern hemisphere of the world. That explains the bitter cold. Harry hoped that at least the summer months were bearable on Kobbholmen.
As they left the rocks and stepped onto a field covered in snow, Harry caught the first glimpse of the castle. From a distance, Durmstrang looked almost tiny and exuded a kind of peace. But Harry strongly suspected that appearances were deceiving. And indeed, as they made their way through the snow, Harry saw how gigantic the castle really was. It bore strong similarities to Buckingham Palace in London. Only Durmstrang was much larger. It must have been seven or eight stories high and twice as long as Buckingham Palace, but just as elegantly decorated. Right in the middle, where Buckingham Palace would have its balcony, Durmstrang had its entrance gate. And that's where the professor was headed.
Inside, Professor Ivanov turned to Harry again and gestured straight ahead to the open double doors. "That's the Ceremony Hall. That's where we dine, and the headmaster addresses the students. To the right is the headmaster's wing, to the left is the teachers' lounge and their quarters," he explained.
To the right and left of the double doors, two staircases led upwards, meeting again at the top of the first floor and continuing upwards from there. "On floors one, two, and three are the classrooms," he continued as they climbed the stairs. "On the fourth floor, the students have common lounges, the fifth floor houses the individual student rooms, and the library extends across the entire sixth floor," he said as they reached the fifth floor.
"We get individual rooms?" Harry asked surprised before he could stop himself.
The professor gave Harry a sharp look and wordlessly went into the left corridor. "The west wing is reserved for the boys. The room you're getting today will be yours until you graduate." They walked along a seemingly never-ending corridor. Doors on both sides bore the names of their owners in the upper third. Harry couldn't discern a pattern and assumed that under normal circumstances, students had free choice in their first year.
Finally, they stopped in front of a door marked Potter. "You need to drip a little blood from yourself onto the door handle the first time you open the door. That way, the room recognizes its owner and opens. After that, when the door is open, concentrate on a password. This will be valid until you decide to renew it. Only students to whom you entrust the password will enter your room. At six o'clock this evening, the headmaster expects all students to gather for a communal dinner." With that, Professor Ivanov turned around and went back to the stairs.
Harry stood alone in front of his door, looking up and down the corridor. Finally, he set down his suitcase, took his wand in hand, and approached the door. With his wand, he made a small cut on his finger and held it to the door. The doorknob briefly lit up orange, and Harry heard the click signaling that the door was open. Upon entering, he focused on his password and saw the doorframe light up orange before returning to normal.
Harry closed the door behind him and looked around his new room. The room was rectangular. Opposite the door was the outer wall with a large window. In front of it was a windowsill, large enough to sit comfortably on. Lengthwise under the window was his bed with a nightstand. To the right of the door was a proper wardrobe, and on the left side was a desk with an empty bookshelf between the desk and the nightstand.
The room was simple but Harry immediately felt comfortable. The room exuded coziness, and it was his own private retreat.
He began to unpack his suitcase and settle into his room.