Upon arriving at Hogwarts, Harry—whose Charm had reached five points and whose abilities had partially transformed, allowing him to occasionally hear the world's subtle whispers—experienced a profound epiphany.
This time, his premonition of the future was more concrete. Ordinary wisdom, the kind most people gain only after events occur, relies on analyzing things after the fact. Harry's extraordinary foresight, amplified by his Charm, allowed him to perceive events before they unfolded.
In the past, during his adventures in Westeros, beyond the bronze attribute points earned for achievements, he had opportunities to strengthen both his Divine Power and Charm. In China, striving to enter a prestigious university through the college entrance exams, he had foreseen missing chances to boost his Intelligence in that world.
Now, here at Hogwarts, he realized that studying magic might provide opportunities to enhance his magical Power and Charm. Intelligence, he reasoned, was already sufficient—no school could increase it further.
Regardless, just tell me if I get into Tsinghua or Peking University! he mused. In just two and a half years, he had completed a six-year journey, demonstrating his extraordinary foresight and capability.
"No more than four to a boat!" Hagrid shouted, pointing to a fleet of small boats moored by the lakebank.
Harry and Ron climbed into one boat, followed by Neville and Hermione.
"Everyone in?" Hagrid called, taking command of another boat. "Right then… FORWARD!"
The fleet glided silently across the mirror-like lake. Everyone remained quiet, awestruck by the enormity of the castle rising ahead. As they neared the cliff where Hogwarts perched, it seemed to loom impossibly above them.
"HEADS DOWN!" Hagrid boomed as the first boats approached the cliff.
They ducked instinctively, passing through a curtain of ivy that concealed a hidden entrance. The boats carried them into a dark tunnel beneath the castle, eventually arriving at a small underground dock. From there, they climbed onto a ground strewn with pebbles and scree.
During this journey, Harry felt the castle itself emanating warmth and gentle energy—it seemed less a building and more a living, spiritual edifice.
Disembarking, and guided by Hagrid's lantern, they ascended a tunnel carved in the rock to reach a damp patch of grass in the shadow of the castle. Stone steps led them to a massive oak door. Here, a covenant seemed to be made.
Harry felt another surge of latent magic suppressed by the King's Power on his forehead. What was this? Did every new student carry hidden magic?
As the question arose, a vision unfolded before him: the tranquil riverside of Scotland, a warthog leading him to a cliff by a lake, four wizards, one carrying a sword. They sat in the same boat, shared the same belief, crossed the lake, and arrived at the cliff. The vision hinted that they would build the greatest school of magic in history.
Harry returned to reality, silent. What had he just seen?
Then he realized: they had retraced the path of the four founders of Hogwarts. Was this a ritual? By undergoing it, did new students increase their survival odds while studying at the school?
He recalled Hagrid mentioning that Hogwarts students were remarkably safe, with few accidents—especially under the guidance of a powerful Principal like Dumbledore. If this ritual truly had been practiced for a millennium, the founders' power was formidable.
Harry wondered how the founders' strength compared to Dumbledore, the most powerful wizard of the current era. If he were Dumbledore, such a magical bonus could allow for more aggressive training of new recruits.
Hagrid raised a massive fist and knocked three times on the oak door.
The door swung open, revealing a tall, dark-haired witch in emerald robes. Her expression was stern, but Harry immediately sensed a warmth beneath the surface, carefully suppressed to maintain seriousness.
Although he could not measure her magical power and noted her physical strength was weak, intuitively he judged her stronger than Hagrid. From a safe distance, she might even pose a slight challenge.
"First years, Professor McGonagall," Hagrid announced.
"Thank you, Hagrid. I'll take them from here."
She stepped aside, and Harry followed with the other new students. Naturally, he positioned himself at the front; no one questioned it, as if it were expected.
Harry observed McGonagall's back, his grip tightening on his wand beneath his robes. He wasn't planning an attack—he wasn't insane. But caution was a habit ingrained from past dangers.
During his two and a half years in China, Harry had become familiar with spell theory and combat foresight. Though he had not practiced physical spell casting there, he had gained insight into the effect of high Charm on spells. Textbooks described effects that went far beyond those of ordinary wizards.
Returning to his eleven-year-old body, however, his physical strength had diminished. His sword remained at the Night's Watch temporary headquarters in Knockturn Alley; all he possessed was his wand.
If all Hogwarts professors matched McGonagall in skill, confronting three to five at close range might require a direct surprise attack with Blood Rage for survival. Against ten or eight, however, he would be outmatched.
Fortunately, Professor McGonagall appeared kind. Hogwarts seemed far safer than he had anticipated.
They followed her across the stone-paved courtyard. From a door on the right, the chatter of hundreds of students spilled out—likely classmates who had already arrived. McGonagall led the first-years into a small, empty room at the edge of the Great Hall.
The students crowded together, shoulder to shoulder, nervously taking in their surroundings.
"Welcome to Hogwarts," Professor McGonagall said. "The start-of-term feast will begin shortly. But before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you must first be sorted into your Houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony…"
Harry noticed a fleeting, mischievously suppressed smile at the mention of Sorting, quickly replaced by seriousness.
Oh no… these inherently clever wizards truly have a plan! he thought, intrigued and wary.