At some point, the rain stopped.
The clouds split apart, and the last light of sunset slanted in from the west, bathing the train car in a warm wash of orange.
The outline of the Scottish Highlands had already come into view. Dark green hills rose and fell in the distance, their shapes softened by dusk.
A gentle female voice sounded over the train's speakers, announcing that they were about to arrive and asking students to gather their belongings and prepare to disembark.
Regulus closed his notebook and slipped it back inside his robe.
The train thundered along the tracks, wheels striking steel in a steady rhythm, clank… clank… clank…
They arrived at exactly seven in the evening.
The night sky was thick with stars. There was no moon, but the starlight was bright enough to illuminate the crowded platform and the rolling clouds of white steam.
Cold, damp air rushed into the carriages, carrying the distinct scent of the Highlands, earth and pine needles layered with something unmistakably magical.
"First-years! This way!"
A booming voice rang out across the platform. Regulus stepped down with the flow of students.
The platform was packed. Older students hurried toward the waiting carriages, while the first-years gathered around a towering figure holding a lantern.
Rubeus Hagrid, gamekeeper and Keeper of Keys. He loomed like a walking hill, the lantern's orange glow lighting up his thick beard and friendly smile.
"C'mon, then! Follow me! Watch your step!"
Regulus followed the group down a steep, narrow path.
It wound through dense trees, the stones underfoot slick with moisture. The darkness was thick enough that he could only make out the outlines of robes ahead and the occasional swing of lantern light.
The forest opened all at once.
A vast, black lake stretched out before them, its surface smooth as glass, reflecting the star-filled sky.
And on the cliffs across the water stood Hogwarts.
Towers and spires rose like a forest of stone, piercing the night. Warm yellow light glowed from the windows, as though stars themselves had been caught and set into the walls.
The castle shimmered faintly under the starlight, ancient and solemn, wrapped in mystery. Like an old legend waiting to be stepped into.
The first-years drew in a collective breath. Someone whispered in awe. Someone else grabbed a friend's sleeve, trembling with excitement.
Regulus stood at the lake's edge and looked up at the castle.
He'd read about it countless times. He'd imagined it in his dreams more times than he could count.
But the real Hogwarts was greater than every description, grander than every imagined version, deeper and more unknowable.
It was a dream.
And it was where the dream began.
"No more than four to a boat!" Hagrid's voice pulled them back. He pointed toward a row of small wooden boats moored along the shore. They were plain, without oars, yet ready to move on their own.
The first-years began to board. Regulus ended up in a boat with three unfamiliar boys. One was red-haired and freckled, likely a Weasley. Another had black hair and a tight, nervous expression. The third was blond and kept fussing with his collar.
The boat glided silently toward the center of the lake.
The water below was pitch-black, unfathomably deep. Something moved beneath the surface, casting slow, massive shadows. Now and then, a broad fin broke the water, catching starlight with a cold gleam.
"That's the Giant Squid," the red-haired boy whispered, fear and excitement tangled in his voice. "My brother says it doesn't hurt anyone. It even saves students who fall in."
The boat rocked suddenly. Everyone grabbed the sides.
Regulus remained steady. He looked down at the water, at the drifting shadows, at the stars reflected on the surface.
Then he lifted his gaze to the castle, drawing ever closer.
Behind those glowing windows, he could already picture it.
Four long house tables laden with food. Older students talking and laughing. Professors murmuring among themselves at the staff table.
And at the far end of the hall, a wooden stool waited. On it sat the battered Sorting Hat, ready to sing Hogwarts' song in its cracked, unpleasant voice.
The boats reached the shore.
They climbed a flight of stone steps and stopped before massive oak doors. Hagrid raised his huge fist and knocked three times.
The doors swung open.
Professor McGonagall stood just inside. She wore deep green robes, her hair pulled into a severe bun. Her expression was as stern as if she were presiding over a trial.
"Welcome to Hogwarts," she said, her voice clear and composed, carrying through the echoing entrance hall. "Before you enter the Great Hall for the Sorting Ceremony, there are a few things you must know…"
Regulus stood among the first-years, listening as she explained the house system, the House Cup, and the rules of discipline. His gaze slipped through the open doorway, into the hall beyond.
Thousands of candles floated overhead. Students filled the four long tables, silverware gleaming in the candlelight, robes blending into rivers of color.
Scarlet and gold. Yellow and black. Blue and bronze. Green and silver.
At the staff table, he recognized familiar faces.
Dumbledore sat at the center, blue eyes behind half-moon spectacles surveying the noisy students with gentle interest.
Slughorn's round belly strained against his waistcoat as he smiled broadly.
Tiny Professor Flitwick perched on a tall chair, chatting with the warm-faced Professor Sprout beside him.
Regulus's gaze drifted to the Slytherin table.
Nearly everyone sat with careful posture, doing their best to project elegance and restraint.
At the Gryffindor table, James Potter sat rigidly upright, eyes fixed on the entrance.
Sirius sat beside him, turned away from the doors, speaking quietly with Remus.
Lily Evans sat a little farther down, animatedly talking to a dark-haired girl beside her.
"Now, line up in single file," Professor McGonagall said. "Follow me."
The first-years nervously adjusted their robes and formed a line. Regulus stood in the middle, a sniffling girl in front of him and a boy trembling behind him.
They entered the hall.
Hundreds of eyes turned toward them. Whispers surged and faded like waves. Regulus could feel the weight of those looks, scrutiny, curiosity, expectation, disdain.
He walked calmly, eyes forward.
At the far end of the hall, Professor McGonagall stopped beside a tall stool. Resting on it was a battered, patched, pointed wizard's hat.
It twitched.
A seam along the brim split open like a mouth, and it began to sing.
The song was old and raspy, telling the story of the four houses and their traits. Regulus listened, but his thoughts drifted.
He thought of the train. Of James's stunned expression. Of the respect in Remus's eyes. Of Peter's frightened shaking.
Of Sirius, who hadn't spoken to him.
Of the stars beyond the window.
The song ended, and applause rippled through the hall. Professor McGonagall unfurled a long parchment scroll.
"When I call your name, step forward and put on the Sorting Hat."
The first name was called. A trembling girl stepped up. The hat slipped down over her eyes. A few seconds later, it shouted, "Hufflepuff!"
Cheers erupted from the yellow-and-black table.
One name after another. One house after another.
Regulus waited.
"Regulus Black!"
The whispers swelled instantly.
Almost everyone knew the name. Even Muggle-born students had heard that his brother had shattered five hundred years of Black family tradition by going to Gryffindor the year before.
All eyes were on him.
Where would this Black go?
Regulus stepped forward calmly and sat on the stool.
Professor McGonagall placed the Sorting Hat on his head.
It was large, blocking out his vision and the light.
Then a faint voice sounded directly inside his mind.
"Hmm… another Black. Clever, very clever… far too mature for your age… what are you thinking about? Not power. Not glory… you're looking much farther ahead… very far…"
Regulus kept his thoughts steady.
"Ravenclaw would suit your mind. You have courage as well. But you seek knowledge… then perhaps the best place is—"
The hat drew in a deep breath and shouted, "Slytherin!"
The green-and-silver table erupted in applause. Rabastan clapped first. Avery and Mulciber joined in, their expressions complicated.
Boos rose from the Gryffindor table, led by James. Sirius stayed silent.
Regulus stood and walked to the Slytherin table, taking a seat beside Rabastan.
"Welcome," Rabastan said.
"Thank you," Regulus replied.
The Slytherins around him reached out to shake his hand.
The Sorting continued. More familiar names were called. More students went to their houses.
But Regulus no longer paid attention.
He lifted his gaze to the enchanted ceiling high above, where it reflected the night sky outside.
The Milky Way stretched across it, stars scattered in endless depth.
Infinite.
And far-reaching.