Professor Quirrell—turban and all—awkwardly stood up and gave everyone a stiff little nod before starting his stuttering introduction.
"H-h-hello, e-everyone. I'm Quirinus Quirrell, and I'll… I'll be teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts."
The first-years stared.
This was not what any of them imagined a wizarding professor would look like.
Dumbledore gave Quirrell a polite nod before turning to the rest of the hall.
"First-years should take note: the Forbidden Forest is strictly off-limits to all students. And I must remind our upperclassmen of this as well."
His eyes slid directly to the Weasley twins, who were whispering to each other with suspicious enthusiasm.
"And Mr. Filch, our caretaker, wishes me to remind everyone that magic is not to be used in the corridors or during breaks."
"Additionally, fifth- and seventh-years will face extremely important exams this year. I wish you all the best of luck."
He paused, letting the hall settle, then added:
"And lastly—and most importantly—if you wish to avoid accidents and a very unpleasant death, do not go near the corridor on the right side of the fourth floor."
Silence fell.
George and Fred Weasley exchanged a look so bright it practically glowed.
Logan, seated at Ravenclaw table, watched them with a twitch of his mouth.
Dumbledore might as well have hung a neon sign saying Come investigate me.
And he even gave them the exact location.
After a moment, the headmaster pushed his glasses up and declared cheerfully:
"Now, before we finish our feast—let us sing the school song!"
With a wave of his wand, golden ribbons unfurled into floating words.
He hooked an arm around a stiff-looking Professor McGonagall, and the entire hall began singing with dramatic enthusiasm.
Logan immediately shrank down, trying to escape Penelope, who was attempting to drag him into singing along.
"For Merlin's sake… whose vocal cords did you strangle to get that voice?" he muttered under his breath, glancing nervously at her booming, emotional performance.
Was Ravenclaw always this… intense?
Penelope honestly felt more like she belonged in Gryffindor.
Most other Ravenclaws just mouthed the words quietly, their ears turning a faint shade of red.
Probably embarrassed out of their minds.
When the song finally ended, Dumbledore dabbed away a tear and announced:
"All prefects, please guide your first-years to their common rooms."
Logan stood and followed Penelope, looking around with curiosity. Hogwarts really was something else.
Portraits waved and greeted them as they walked, and even the ghosts attempted to help—not that their directions were terribly useful.
They climbed staircases until they reached the top of the West Tower.
A bronze door awaited them. No handle—just a bronze knocker shaped like an eagle.
Penelope stepped forward and lifted the knocker gently.
The eagle seemed to wake, feathers shifting as a voice echoed from it:
"I have no throat, yet I must be fed to work. What am I?"
Penelope raised an eyebrow and turned to the first-years behind her.
"Each House has its own way of entering the common room. Ravenclaw's is by answering a question from the door knocker."
"The questions can cover anything. So, friendly advice—read. A lot. Otherwise, you'll be waiting outside for someone else to open the door."
She scanned the group with a slight smile.
"Today's question isn't too difficult. Why don't we let one of our new students try?"
The first-years froze.
Ravenclaws or not, their first riddle was stressful.
"Don't worry," Penelope said reassuringly. "There isn't only one correct answer. As long as the knocker accepts your reasoning, the door will open."
Logan replayed the riddle in his mind.
Penelope noticed he was the only one who'd already composed himself. Her eyes brightened.
"Logan, would you like to answer?"
"…Sure."
He stepped forward.
"Fire," he said.
"It needs to be fed wood to keep burning."
The eagle's bronze wings spread wide, and the door slid open, revealing a majestic eagle statue and a few steps leading inside. Above them, a star map glimmered.
"A perfect answer!" Penelope clapped softly.
Her real goal was just to help a first-year take the first step forward—any first-year.
But she was pleased Logan had done so well.
"Welcome to Ravenclaw!"
She winked at him and led the group inside.
Their feet sank into a deep blue carpet embroidered with intricate patterns, muffling every step.
Maybe… for quietness?
They climbed the short steps and entered a spacious, airy circular room.
Arched windows stood open, letting in a light breeze that stirred the curtains.
In the center of the room stood a large white marble statue.
"This is Rowena Ravenclaw, our House's founder."
The first-years whispered among themselves while Logan examined the statue.
Something about its eyes seemed oddly lifelike.
Hopefully it wouldn't scare him during late-night bathroom trips…
He shook his head quickly, chasing the thought away.
Upperclassmen were already inside, quietly reading in corners.
Penelope finished her brief introduction to the room and clapped her hands.
"You'll have plenty of time to explore. You'll be here for seven years, after all."
"But for now, you should get settled in your dormitories."
She glanced at the tired-looking new students.
"All right—girls, follow me. Boys, go with the prefect over there."
The previously invisible male prefect stepped forward with a small nod.
"Right then, boys—this way."