"Your attention, please."

Professor McGonagall's crisp voice cut through the murmurs of the Great Hall as she lightly tapped her spoon against her goblet. The hall, filled with fresh excitement from the Sorting Ceremony, quieted in anticipation.

At the center of the staff table, Dumbledore rose, his eyes twinkling as they swept across the eager young faces before him. With a sweeping gesture, he smiled and declared, "Let the feast begin."

A collective gasp rippled through the hall as food appeared seemingly out of nowhere, filling the golden plates in an instant. Roasted meats, buttery potatoes, steaming vegetables, and an assortment of pies and pastries covered every inch of the long wooden tables. The once-silent room burst into chatter and the clatter of utensils as students eagerly dug in.

Elara, still slightly dazed from her Sorting, hesitated for only a moment before settling into her place at the Hufflepuff table. Around her, her new housemates were already engaged in conversation, their warmth filling the space like a comforting fire on a cold evening.

"Not bad, huh?" A voice to her left drew her attention. A dark-haired boy grinned at her between bites of roast chicken. "Name's Justin. Justin Finch-Fletchley."

"Elara Willow," she replied softly, feeling the unfamiliar weight of being the center of attention from those nearest to her. Nonetheless, she put on a warm smile in return.
Then she noticed the two boys sitting across from them who were also first years. One had light brown hair, slightly wavy, and a friendly smile. His eyes were warm and eager, as though he had already made up his mind to be friends with everyone around him. Elara recognized him as Ernie Macmillan, who had been sorted just moments before her.

"Hey, I'm Ernie," he said, extending a hand. "I think we're in the same boat, right? First years, same house!" His enthusiasm was contagious. "Can't believe we're finally here. The Sorting Hat took ages with me, but I guess it got me right!"
Elara smiled back at him warmly, a friendly twinkle in her eye as she shook his hand, then waved at the boy next to him. This one had dirty blonde hair, a bit tousled from the chaos of the evening. His posture was a little more guarded than Ernie's, his eyes flicking around as if sizing up the room. Zacharias Smith. He didn't seem unfriendly, but there was a sharpness to his gaze, something that made Elara raise an eyebrow.

"Zacharias," he introduced himself curtly, though with a polite nod. "Not much to say, really. Not exactly what I expected from this place, but we'll see." He seemed to be sizing her up, just as he had the rest of the students.

Elara gave him a smile, polite as always, though a bit bemused by the way he carried himself. His demeanor reminded her of someone who might be a bit more... competitive? Or maybe just distrustful. She couldn't quite place it.

Across from her, a girl with blonde pigtails beamed. "I'm Hannah Abbott, and this is Susan Bones." She gestured to the red-haired girl beside her, who gave a polite nod in greeting.

Before Elara could respond, a sudden, ghostly wail sent a ripple of surprise through the first years. The room turned colder as translucent figures swept through the walls and into the Great Hall. Gasps and murmurs spread across the tables as the ghosts made their grand entrance, their shimmering forms drifting through the candlelit space.

"Oh no," Justin muttered, eyes widening as a particularly rotund ghost in a ruffled collar zoomed straight toward their table.

The ghost, mid-conversation with another, was gesturing wildly when—WHOOSH!—his sleeve caught on the end of a candlestick, passing harmlessly through it but causing the flame to flicker.

"I donotthink Peeves should be allowed in at the start-of-term banquet," the ghost huffed, seeming utterly unaware that half the first years were now staring at him in stunned silence. "He causes suchchaos!"

"That's the Fat Friar," Hannah whispered to Elara, leaning in. "He's the Hufflepuff ghost."

As if hearing his name, the Friar turned toward them with a jovial expression. "New Hufflepuffs, I see! Welcome, welcome! Always a delight to have new badgers in the burrow!" He clapped his ghostly hands together, beaming. "Hope you'll all be ready to work hard and play fair! Oh, and if you ever need a bit of help sneaking extra pudding, I might know a few tricks."

The students chuckled, the tension melting away.

Elara listened, quietly absorbing the interactions around her. The Fat Friar's cheerful presence and her housemates' easy camaraderie were… nice. There was a warmth at this table, a quiet but steady rhythm of belonging. It felt different from the analytical lens she often viewed things through—less like an equation to solve and more like a feeling to experience.

Her eyes flickered across the room, momentarily landing on the Ravenclaw table, where Luna Lovegood sat in quiet curiosity, seemingly staring at a floating candlestick as though it held the secrets of the universe. Then, without quite meaning to, her gaze trailed to the staff table.

Severus Snape had not touched his food.

He sat motionless, dark eyes surveying the room like a hawk studying its prey. His expression was unreadable, but the moment Elara's gaze lingered too long, his eyes flicked toward her.

Her breath caught.

That strange, silent pull from earlier returned, as if an unseen force tethered them for the briefest of moments. His gaze wasn't just observing—it was assessing. And, oddly enough, she found herself doing the same to him.

Then, just as quickly as it happened, Snape's attention shifted. He reached for his goblet, and the spell was broken.

Among her fellow first years, Elara found herself settled next to a warm, smiling prefect—Gabriel Truman—who was in the midst of explaining some of the finer details of life in Hufflepuff. He had light chestnut curls and warm amber eyes.

"Welcome to Hufflepuff," Gabriel said with a smile that was both kind and reassuring. His voice was steady and warm, the kind of tone that made you feel like everything would be just fine. "It's a house of loyalty, hard work, and friendship. No matter what, remember that you'll always have your fellow Hufflepuffs to rely on."

He paused, looking at the new first years. "And don't be afraid to reach out to your prefects if you have any questions. If we don't know the answer, we'll make sure you get pointed in the right direction."

Elara nodded, listening intently as she glanced around, absorbing the bustling energy of the Great Hall.

Before Gabriel could continue, a second prefect,Evelyn Thistle, joined the conversation. She was a friendly-looking girl with a gentle smile, her blonde hair tied back in a simple ponytail, and her manner was less formal than Gabriel's, but just as welcoming.

"You're lucky," Evelyn said with a wink. "Hufflepuff's got the best common room, right by the kitchens. You'll never go hungry—well, if you don't mind a bit of an extra snack or two." She nudged Gabriel, and he grinned.

"Evelyn's right," Gabriel added. "But the common room is a great place to relax after a long day of classes. You'll find that we Hufflepuffs are pretty good at balancing our work and fun."

Elara smiled, still feeling a bit like an observer, as her mind quietly catalogued everything. She didn't feel any anxiety, but she was surprised to be treated with such calmness after what had been a pretty chaotic Sorting experience. Gabriel and Evelyn continued to explain the house's values and traditions, and Elara found herself grateful for their easygoing nature.

As the ghosts continued their grand entrance, Sir Nicholas barely had time to sigh in exasperation before Peeves burst onto the scene, cackling wildly as he somersaulted midair. The sudden burst of laughter caught Elara's attention, and she looked up just in time to see a small figure zip past, his movement as erratic as a tornado. He was a bizarre sight, floating just above the table, his movements sharp and quick—like a jester come to life.

His appearance was striking: his body was gaunt, almost skeletal, with skin that seemed to shimmer faintly in the candlelight, as if it couldn't quite decide whether it wanted to be solid or translucent. His wild, matted hair was an unruly mess of dark, greasy strands, and his face—twisted into a grotesque grin—was painted with a mischievous madness. He wore mismatched clothes that hung loosely on his thin frame, something between a jester's outfit and a shabby cloak.
Elara wasn't quite sure how to categorize him—was he a man? A ghost? His body was solid, far too solid to be one of the transparent spirits she'd been introduced to, and yet, his antics screamed of mischief and the uncanny. She had never encountered anyone like him.
"Oi! Watch your step, you little whelp! Or I'll have to dump this in your lap!" Peeves shrieked, narrowly missing one of the first-year Hufflepuffs by a hair as he swerved around them. The jester's bells at his collar jangled as he twirled through the air, almost too fast for her eyes to follow.

With a shriek of glee, Peeves spun further into view, pelting dinner rolls at students' heads. "BOOORING feast, boooring speech, same old, same old—but what's this?" His eyes gleamed as he caught sight of Elara.

He suddenly zipped toward her, knocking over a pitcher mid-flight and cackling as pumpkin juice splattered across the table. "OoOooh, what do we have here? The Unsuspecting Little Storm? The Raven-minded Badger?The most perceptive witch of the age?"He spun upside down, his wild grin stretching unnervingly wide.

"My, my, my! Now here's an odd one! A quiet littlechameleon,always watching, alwaysshifting!But what happens when the quiet one cracks?" He twirled through the air, his bells jingling like unsettling laughter.

Then, in a blink, he lunged toward her, stopping just short of her nose. His mismatched eyes gleamed, locking onto hers with something almost... delighted. "So quiet! So calm! So—" His grin widened. "—ready to SNAP." His words rang out like a discordant melody, weaving through the hall with an eerie, taunting lilt.

Elara simply blinked in quiet surprise at his sudden closeness, unsure of what to make of is this? What is he? Why does he seem like a ghost but is so... solid?She watched him curiously, trying to figure out whether she was dealing with someone truly intangible or something else entirely. His chaotic energy was undeniable, but his form—solid, mischievous, yet not quite... human—was throwing her off. She hadn't even fully processed the ghosts that had just entered, let alone this strange figure now swarming around her. His appearance was a blur of movement, his face twisted into an eternal mischievous is he talking to me?

Peeves gasped dramatically at her lack of reaction, clutching his chest as if she'd struck him. "Oooh, she doesn'tscare! She doesn'tflinch! That makes itsooomuch more fun!" he exclaimed dramatically before looping midair and ticking his words off on his fingers, "The one the Hat couldn't make up its mind about! Ravenclaw! Hufflepuff! Gryffinsssslitherrr—ohhh, I bet evenyoudon't know which one youtrulyare." His voice was a singsong mockery, full of amusement and something almost knowing.
"But, you know whatIthink?" He leaned toward her, his face twisted into a grin that didn't quite reach his eyes. Elara tilted her head slightly, still unsure of how to react.

"I think you're like me," Peeves continued, his voice dropping to a near whisper, his words cutting through the murmuring students. "A little bit of everything, a little bit of chaos. But your chaos is quiet. Subtle. The calm before the storm. I betyoucould stir up a whole lot of fun, given the chance."

Elara blinked again, her brow furrowing as his words sank you?she thought, quietly intrigued.

Peeves huffed. " , tricky, little thing—how fun! And howdreadfulfor the professors!" He did an exaggerated bow in Snape's direction. "You poor, poor teachers! You think she'scalm?You think she'skind?" He gasped, pressing a hand to his mouth. "Sheis—until she'snot."

The students around her were murmuring now, staring.

Peeves giggled wildly. "I'm gonnalovewatching this one."

And with a final maniacal laugh, he zipped away, upending a goblet over an unsuspecting student before moving glanced at her housemates, who seemed as stunned by Peeves' antics as she felt. What had he meant bychaos? And why had he singled her out so quickly? There was something oddly fascinating about him... though whether it was a good kind of fascination or a dangerous one, she wasn't entirely sure.

Just as the sound of his wild cackles faded, Evelyn Thistle, the Hufflepuff prefect, gave a gentle smile with a calm demeanor. "Don't mind him," she said, catching Elara's puzzled expression. "That's Peeves. He's—well, he's not really a ghost in the way you've probably heard of them. He's a... poltergeist, I suppose. He's been here for as long as anyone can remember. Annoying as all get out, but harmless... mostly."

Elara glanced at Peeves again, who was now spinning upside down in midair, making faces at a group of first years across the hall. Her gaze flickered to Evelyn, her polite curiosity prompting her to ask in a whisper, "A... poltergeist?"

Evelyn nodded, "Not the same as a ghost. He doesn't have any unfinished business or lingering attachments like a spirit might. Peeves is made of pure chaos—just magical energy given form. It's rumored that Hogwarts itself created him, like a byproduct of all the students'... excitement, I suppose." She paused, looking sideways at Peeves, who was now trying (unsuccessfully) to put someone's broomstick in a headlock. "He doesn't cause harm in the way a Dark wizard might, but he's a constant source of disruption. It's just his nature."

Elara listened intently, her mind racing as she pieced together the made him?That was a strange thought, one she hadn't considered before. She could almost sense Peeves' chaotic energy in the air, like a ripple of magic too wild to be tamed. Her fascination only grew, though she made sure to keep her face neutral and her smile polite as Evelyn continued.

"Of course, if he's being too much of a nuisance," Evelyn added with a small, wry grin, "the teachers tend to step in. But he's clever—hard to catch. And if you ask me, Peeves finds it most amusing to pick on first years, especially ones who don't know what he is yet."

Elara raised an eyebrow, still watching Peeves—who now appeared to be attempting to tie an invisibility cloak around a nearby suit of armor while singing an off-key tune. "And... what exactly does he want from me?" she asked, her curiosity taking over.

Evelyn laughed softly, her expression amused. "Oh, don't take it personally. Peeves doesn't want anything from anyone—he just wants to mess with people. But I get the feeling he's taken a liking to you, Elara."

Elara looked surprised at that, wondering just what in the world could attract Peeves' attention. The poltergeist zipped past her once more, sending her a cheeky wink, before darting off to bother another table. She blinked, still processing what she'd just been told. The strange pull of curiosity continued to grow in her chest.A poltergeist... made by Hogwarts?It was a baffling idea, one that added another layer to this strange, enchanted place.

The Great Hall was still buzzing in the distance as Gabriel and Evelyn gathered the newly sorted Hufflepuffs. The two seventh years led the group past the long wooden tables, through a side door, and into a wide, torch-lit corridor that immediately felt different from the grandeur of the Great Hall. The stone walls were closer, the ceiling lower, and the warmth from the torches flickered against the smooth, earth-toned bricks, casting soft golden light.

"All right, badgers," Gabriel said, his voice steady but lighthearted, "stick close. Hogwarts is… a bit of a maze. And if you get lost on your first night, you may end up in a suit of armor, a moving staircase, or—Merlin forbid—stumbling into Peeves again."

At the mention of Peeves, the first years murmured warily, still rattled from his sudden interest in Elara. Evelyn rolled her eyes but grinned. "Come on, Gabe, let's not scare themtoomuch on their first night."

She led the way, her prefect badge glinting in the dim torchlight as the group descended a wide stone staircase.

Elara stuck near the middle of the pack, eyes scanning the corridor. Unlike the twisting staircases and towering ceilings she had glimpsed earlier, the halls here felt stable, unchanging—like burrowing into a den rather than climbing through a fortress. The stone underfoot was smooth and well-worn, whispering of centuries of students who had passed this way before.

As they moved deeper into the castle, the temperature shifted—warmer, cozier. The air carried a faint scent of freshly baked bread and honey, making Elara glance around in curiosity.

"That's the kitchens," Gabriel said, noticing her expression. He slowed his pace so more students could catch up.

A few of the first years exchanged excited looks.

The air grew cooler as they descended further. The shifting glow of torches flickered against the ancient stone, illuminating their path. Despite the dimness, there was something cozy about the way the castle seemed to wrap around them.

"We're heading to the lower levels of the castle," Evelyn explained. "The Hufflepuff common room is one of the most well-hidden in all of Hogwarts. Even students from other houses don't know exactly how to get in."

"Why?" Ernie Macmillan asked, his tone full of curiosity.

Gabriel turned slightly, his easygoing smile never faltering. "Becausewelike our privacy. And, well, let's just say…weknow how to keep a secret."

As if to prove his point, they rounded a bend and nearly walked straight into a barrel-lined wall at the end of the corridor.

Justin Finch-Fletchley blinked. "Wait… this is a dead end."

Evelyn smirked. " the entrance to our common room."

Elara looked around. The corridor was silent, empty save for the flickering torchlight and the rows of wooden barrels stacked neatly against the wall. There was no door. No portrait like the Gryffindors had. No statue. No grand staircase.

Zacharias Smith frowned. "So… what do we do? Knock?"

"Not quite." Gabriel chuckled. "Hufflepuff's entrance is one of the most secure in the castle. There's no portrait with a password like Gryffindor's, no riddles like Ravenclaw's, and no creepy dungeon magic like Slytherin's. Instead, we use the barrels. You have to tap the correct one in the right rhythm—the rhythm of 'Helga Hufflepuff'—like this."

He turned to the second barrel from the bottom, middle row, and rapped out a steady beat: tap-tap, pause, tap-tap-tap.

A soft, wooden creak echoed through the corridor. Then, as if by magic, the barrel's lid rolled open, revealing a warm, golden passageway beyond. The scent of earth and herbs drifted toward them, along with a comforting warmth, like a sunlit greenhouse.

The first years murmured in awe.

Gabriel grinned. "Neat, right? But here's the fun part—try the wrong barrel, and you getsoakedin vinegar."

Susan Bones gasped. "You're kidding."

Evelyn smirked. "Nope. So if you ever forget which one to tap… well, let's just say you'll smellverystrong for the rest of the day."

A few of the first years giggled nervously.

One by one, they stepped through the entrance, ducking slightly as they entered the passage. The moment Elara passed through, a wave of warmth wrapped around her. The tunnel sloped gently downward, carved directly into the earth. The walls were rounded, smooth, and lined with thick vines and moss, as if the castle itself had grown around this space. Golden light flickered ahead, growing brighter.

And then—

They emerged into the Hufflepuff common room.

The space was round and low-ceilinged, with warm copper and yellow tones reflecting off the wooden beams. Large overstuffed armchairs and plush couches were gathered around a roaring fireplace, their fabric rich in hues of gold and deep brown. The air smelled of lavender, vanilla, and something faintly like honey.

Plants—so many plants—lined the curved walls, growing from hanging baskets and creeping along trellises. Some even moved, swaying as if adjusting to the newcomers' presence.

The dormitory entrances branched off to the sides, round wooden doors built seamlessly into the walls, almost like burrows.

Evelyn turned back to the group, beaming. "Welcome home."

As the group lingered in the common room, chatting and exploring the cozy, warm space, Elara took a moment to look around, her gaze flicking toward the other two first-year Hufflepuffs she hadn't spoken to yet—Sally-Anne Perks and Wayne Hopkins.

Sally-Anne, a girl with wavy, light brown hair that framed her round face, stood near the fireplace, chatting with Ernie and Justin. She had a thoughtful expression, as if she were quietly taking everything in, but her warm smile suggested a friendliness that put Elara at ease. There was something unassuming about her, a quiet presence that blended into the background but didn't feel overlooked.

Wayne, on the other hand, was tall for his age, with messy brown hair that looked like it hadn't quite decided whether to curl or straighten. He was animatedly talking to Zacharias and Hannah, and though he had a bit of a cheeky grin, there was an earnestness in his eyes that made Elara feel at ease. He seemed like the type to make friends easily, someone who was genuinely excited to be part of the group.

As the others continued to chat, Elara made her way over to them, offering a polite smile. "Hi, I don't think we've properly introduced ourselves yet," she said softly, her voice gentle but carrying an undercurrent of curiosity.

Sally-Anne turned and smiled warmly. "Oh, hi! I'm Sally-Anne," she said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Nice to finally meet you. We didn't get a chance to talk earlier."

Wayne gave her an easygoing grin. "Wayne. Pleased to meet you! I think we've all been caught up in the excitement. Feels like I've barely had a chance to breathe, let alone meet everyone properly."

Elara's smile deepened, feeling a bit of relief at the friendly exchange. "It's definitely a lot to take in."

"The dorms are sorted by year," Evelyn continued, now speaking to the group as a whole, "The girls' dormitories are upstairs, and the boys are down there. So all the first-year girls—Susan, Hannah, Sally-Anne, and Elara—will be rooming together, and the boys—Ernie, Justin, Zacharias, and Wayne—will have their own room." She gave a knowing smile. "Now, your things have already been brought up or down depending on where you're rooming, so it's all ready for you to get settled in. You all get a whole room to yourselves, so you won't have to share with any other years."

Elara nodded absently, her mind already drifting to the quiet of the dormitory. After a few more pleasantries, and once the others had begun to relax into their post-feast chatter, Elara felt the familiar tug of solitude. She nodded politely, offering a small smile as she excused herself from the conversation.

"I think I'm going to head up to the dorms," she said politely, still keeping her warm smile and friendly twinkle in her gaze.

"Of course!" Susan called out, giving her a cheery wave. "We'll catch up in the morning, right?"

"Definitely!" Elara replied with a grin, giving a small wave in return.

As she moved toward the stairs, her steps slowed. The door to the girls' dormitory loomed ahead, and with each step, the energy around her seemed to change. She passed by the other girls chatting by the fire, her smile unwavering, but inside, she felt a quiet storm building.

I can't do this anymore today.

Her breath came a little quicker, and her shoes clicked lightly against the stone steps as she ascended, one step after another, the sound echoing in the otherwise quiet hall.
Click. Click. Click.
Each step sounded like a drumbeat, drawing her closer to the sanctuary of the dormitory and further away from the chaos she had just left behind.

Finally, she reached the door.

She paused for a moment, her fingers gripping the knob, as if it were the last thing holding her together. She closed her eyes, taking in a slow, shuddering breath, and for one agonizing moment, the noise from the common room seemed to press in on her, the laughter and chatter muffled but relentless.

Then, she pushed the door open and stepped inside.

A soft click echoed as the door shut behind her, a sound of finality. The weight of it settled over her like a thick blanket, a cue for her to drop the act.
The mask dropped.

The second the door closed, her smile vanished.

Her bright eyes dulled, the warmth in her expression fading as the mask she had worn for hours slipped from her face. She pressed her back against the door for a moment, eyes closing in relief. The stillness of the room felt like a stark contrast to the vibrant energy she had just left behind.

Her feet moved slowly, deliberately, each step seeming to reverberate against the floor, louder than it should have been.
Click. Click. Click.

It was almost as if she could hear her own thoughts pounding in her head, the echoes of all the eyes on her from before, the stupid Hat's rhyming song, Peeves' taunts, the weight of it all pressing down on her chest.

Her steps felt heavy as she made her way across the room. The bed near the window was calling to her, but she couldn't seem to reach it fast enough. Every step felt like an eternity, like she was trudging through thick mud. She felt the eyes of the others, felt their curiosity and anticipation—even though they weren't there.

The moment she reached the bed, she collapsed onto it in one swift motion.

Plop.

She buried her face in the pillow, her body trembling as the floodgates finally opened.

A scream—raw, exhausted, and full of pent-up frustration—escaped her lips, muffled by the pillow."AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

Silence.
I can't… I just can't deal with this today.

Her mind flashed back to the Sorting Hat's absurd song, the words that seemed to make everything about herso much bigger. Her head swam with Peeves' ridiculous antics, his words like darts aimed straight at quiet! So calm! So ready to snap!He hadmadeit a spectacle.

Elara's chest heaved with every breath as she lay there in silence for a long moment, trying to come to terms with the absoluteexhaustionthat had taken hold of her. The socializing, the analyzing, the way she had to be on, constantly shifting and smiling and pretending everything was fine. And all the while, she had been drowning in it.
It had been one too many encounters, one too many new faces, one too many forced smiles.

She wasn't sure how long she stayed there, the pillow pressed tight against her face. Eventually, her breathing steadied, and she turned her head, letting her eyes glance around the room.

It was cozy, quiet—exactly what she needed—but it felt so stark in contrast to the whirlwind of the day. The soft lighting, the earthy tones with warm golden hues, the simple furnishings, and the comfort of being alone—alone—was a balm to her frayed nerves.

But there was something else, too. Something she hadn't quite considered until now. She would be sharing this space with . Hannah. Sally-Anne.

She glanced at the other beds in the room—neatly made, simple, awaiting their owners. It was calming, in a way. And yet, she couldn't help but feel the weight of her own thoughts.

I've already been noticed,she thought, eyes flicking to the quiet, empty it hasn't even been a full day.