HP:Prodigal Wizard

Duke Carter moved with purpose, his sharp gaze scanning every detail of King's Cross Station as he maneuvered through the throngs of travelers. The mystery of Platform Nine and Three-Quarters nagged at him—nowhere on the signs, nowhere in sight. But it existed. It had to.

As he approached the space between Platforms Nine and Ten, his mind raced through possibilities. A hidden lever? An enchantment requiring a password? Magic always had an internal logic, no matter how obscure. If there was a way in, he would find it.

Then, movement caught his attention.

A tall woman with striking red hair led a group of children toward the wall. Duke recognized them immediately—the Weasleys, a well-known wizarding family. But it wasn't them that held his interest.

It was the black-haired boy walking alongside them.

Duke's eyes narrowed. Him again.

He had seen this boy before—in Flourish and Blotts, the bookshop in Diagon Alley. They had crossed paths while picking up their school supplies, though they hadn't spoken. But Mcgonagall had said his name Potter. The only living Potter was the legendary Harry Potter.

Duke had read enough about the wizarding world to know his name, even if the reality of the boy didn't quite match the legendary figure from the books. He didn't look particularly powerful. In fact, he seemed just as lost as Duke had been.

"That's it, dear, just walk straight at the barrier," Mrs. Weasley was saying to Harry. "Don't stop, and don't be afraid."

Duke watched as one of the older Weasley boys strode confidently toward the solid brick wall—and vanished.

His mind clicked into place. A hidden passage, activated by intent. He should have figured that out sooner. Magic often relied on belief and confidence—the wall wasn't a barrier at all. It was just a doorway hidden in plain sight.

Harry hesitated, gripping the handle of his trolley uncertainly. One of the Weasley twins grinned. "Best do it at a bit of a run if you're nervous."

Duke smirked to himself. He won't need to run. He just needs to trust it works.

With that, Duke squared his shoulders, adjusted his grip on his trolley, and walked straight toward the wall with absolute certainty.

A strange pulling sensation gripped him—like being sucked through a tight tunnel—and for a brief moment, the world blurred.

Then, suddenly, he stepped out onto a completely different platform.

The first thing he noticed was the scarlet steam engine, towering over the bustling crowd. The sign overhead read:

Hogwarts Express – 11:00 AM

The air smelled of steam, parchment, and something faintly metallic. The station was alive with students saying goodbye to their families, owls hooting irritably, and first-years gawking at the massive train.

Duke exhaled slowly, adjusting his trunk. He cast a glance to the side, watching as Harry emerged from the barrier, looking slightly bewildered. Mrs. Weasley fussed over him, making sure he was ready, while her youngest son—the same freckled, lanky boy from the bookshop—hovered nearby, looking just as uncertain.

Duke considered approaching Harry, but thought better of it. They had already noticed each other in the bookstore. If they were meant to speak, it would happen naturally.

Instead, he shifted his attention toward the train itself. He wasn't here to make friends—he was here to learn, to grow, and to carve out his own place in this world.

With that, he stepped aboard the Hogwarts Express, ready for whatever came next.

Duke stepped onto the train, scanning the corridor for an empty compartment. The Hogwarts Express was already filling up, the air buzzing with laughter, excited chatter, and the occasional shout as students hurried to find seats.

After passing a few crowded cabins, he finally found one that was empty. He slid the door open, pulled his trunk inside, and settled into the seat by the window.

Outside, Platform Nine and Three-Quarters was still bustling. Through the glass, Duke spotted Harry Potter and Ron Weasley boarding together. They were talking easily, as if they'd known each other forever. Duke exhaled, looking away. Some people just had a way of fitting in effortlessly.

Then—

Knock, knock.

The door slid open, revealing a round-faced boy with messy brown hair and a worried expression.

"Uh—sorry," the boy said hesitantly. "Are—are you saving this seat for anyone?"

Duke shook his head. "No."

The boy sighed in relief and dragged his trunk inside, collapsing onto the seat across from Duke.

"I'm Neville Longbottom," he introduced himself. "I almost missed the train—lost my toad, Trevor. Gran's going to be furious if I don't find him before we get to Hogwarts."

Duke studied him for a moment. The name Longbottom was familiar—an old wizarding family.

"You checked the corridors?" Duke asked.

Neville nodded miserably. "Yeah, but he always disappears when I need him to stay put."

Duke thought for a moment. "Try looking in warmer spots. Small creatures tend to seek heat when they hide."

Neville blinked. "Oh—that's actually really smart! I'll check near the lamps later."

Before the conversation could go any further, another knock came at the door.

A girl with bushy brown hair and an eager expression peeked inside. "Everywhere else is full. Mind if I sit here?"

Neville nodded quickly. "Go ahead."

She pulled her trunk inside, brushing her hair back as she plopped down beside Neville.

"I'm Hermione Granger," she said brightly. "Are you both first-years?"

Duke nodded, and Neville muttered, "Yeah."

"Oh, good! I was worried I'd end up stuck with older students." She sat up straighter, her eyes lighting up. "I've been reading Hogwarts: A History, and it's absolutely fascinating. Did you know that the castle has over a hundred secret passageways?"

Neville looked overwhelmed, but Duke raised an eyebrow. "How many are actually useful?"

Hermione grinned, as if pleased by the question. "Well, a lot of them are caved in or lead nowhere now, but there are a few that could still work—though I suppose we won't really need them, will we? Unless you want to sneak around, which I don't recommend. Prefects are always on patrol."

Duke smirked slightly. She was sharp. That was good to know.

Just then, Neville's eyes widened in realization.

"Wait—you said warmer spots!" He jumped up, eyes scanning the compartment. Then, rushing toward the small lantern mounted near the door, he gasped.

"There you are, Trevor!"

The small toad was huddled near the lamp, basking in its warmth. Neville scooped him up, grinning in relief.

"You actually helped me find him," he said, looking at Duke with something close to admiration. "Thanks!". He stuck trevor in his robe pocket.

The rhythmic chugging of the Hogwarts Express filled the cabin as the countryside blurred past the window. The sun hung low in the sky, casting a golden hue over the rolling hills. Duke leaned against the cool glass, listening idly as Neville excitedly talked about his newly recovered toad, Trevor, and how his Gran would finally stop worrying—

Until suddenly, he gasped.

"Wait—where's Trevor?"

Duke sighed and turned to see Neville frantically searching his pockets, under his seat, and around the cabin. The relief of finding the toad earlier had been short-lived.

"I had him just a moment ago!" Neville groaned, checking inside his trunk. "Oh no, Gran's going to kill me—"

Hermione, who had been reading from Hogwarts: A History, snapped her book shut and stood up decisively. "We'll help look," she declared.

Duke didn't particularly feel like crawling around searching for a toad, but Hermione was already opening the cabin door. With a resigned sigh, he followed them into the corridor.

They moved from compartment to compartment, peering under seats and asking students if they had seen a missing toad. Most ignored them; a few laughed. Eventually, Hermione led the way toward the front of the train, determined as ever.

Finally, she stopped at a door, knocked sharply, then slid it open.

Inside sat two boys— Harry Potter and Ron Weasley. The redhead was in the middle of stuffing his face with a chocolate frog, while Harry glanced up curiously at the intrusion.

"Has anyone seen a toad?" Hermione asked briskly, stepping inside before they could even respond. "Neville's lost his... Again."

Ron blinked. "A toad? No, haven't seen one."

Neville let out a defeated sigh. "Great. Trevor could be anywhere."

Duke leaned against the doorframe, studying Harry for a brief moment. He recognized him from the bookstore, but Harry didn't seem to notice him.

"Wait a moment," Hermione said, spotting a wand in Harry's hand. "Are you doing magic? Let's see it, then."

Ron perked up and cleared his throat, clearly pleased to have an audience. He waved his wand dramatically and declared, "Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow, turn this stupid, fat rat yellow!"

He tapped his pet rat, Scabbers, on the head.

Nothing happened.

Duke snorted softly, and Hermione let out a haughty sigh.

"That's not a real spell. I've tried a few myself, and they've actually worked," she said, launching into a brief monologue about her studies, much to Ron's horror.

Duke, unimpressed, crossed his arms and turned back toward the corridor. "Let's keep looking."

Neville, still distraught over his missing toad, quickly nodded, and the three left the cabin, Hermione finishing her sentence just as the door slid shut behind them.

They eventually found one of the prefects that helped them find Trevor. They found Trevor with the prefects help and returned to their cabin.

The train slowed to a halt, steam hissing as it settled into the station. The Hogwarts Express had carried them across the countryside, and now the journey was nearly over. The lanterns of Hogsmeade Station flickered against the night, casting long shadows over the crowd of nervous first-years as they stepped onto the wooden platform. The air was crisp and damp, carrying the scent of rain-soaked earth and something faintly smoky from the nearby village.

Duke adjusted the strap of his bag, taking in the sight of the station bustling with students. Older students in black robes pushed past, calling out to one another as they made their way toward the waiting carriages. First-years, however, were gathered toward the edge of the platform, uncertainty written on their faces.

"Firs'-years! Firs'-years over here!"

A deep, booming voice called over the noise, and Duke turned to see a giant of a man standing near the end of the platform. He held a massive lantern, its glow casting long shadows across his tangled beard. His face was weathered but kind, though Duke noticed the way other students instinctively stepped aside to give him room.

"That's Hagrid," Neville whispered.

Duke had heard the name in passing from McGonagall—Keeper of Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts. From the way he towered over the first-years, Duke could see why he had that title.

"Right then," Hagrid called again. "Come along, follow me—no dawdlin'!"

The first-years huddled together, following Hagrid down a narrow, winding path. The moon was bright overhead, illuminating the twisting trail as they descended toward the lake. The sounds of the station faded behind them, replaced by the rustling of leaves and the occasional hoot of an owl.

Then, as they turned a bend, Duke caught his first glimpse of Hogwarts.

Perched on a cliff high above the water, the castle was enormous, its countless turrets and towers reaching toward the sky. Golden light spilled from the windows, reflecting off the smooth surface of the great black lake below.

"No more than four to a boat!" Hagrid instructed, pointing toward a cluster of small wooden boats bobbing gently at the water's edge.

Duke climbed into one near the front, sharing with Neville and two other students he didn't know. He steadied himself, glancing across the lake at the looming castle. This was it.

With a final glance to make sure everyone was aboard, Hagrid raised a hand—and the boats began to glide forward, moving smoothly across the lake without any need for paddles.

There was a hushed awe among the students, most of them gazing up at the castle, whispering among themselves. Neville kept glancing around nervously, as if expecting his toad to leap into the water at any moment.

Duke, however, remained quiet, watching the rippling water. The reflection of the castle shimmered on the surface, its glow making the lake look deeper than it was.

As they neared the cliffside, Duke noticed a vast opening—a cavern carved into the rock. The boats drifted smoothly through the passage, and suddenly, they were inside a vast underground harbor. Wooden docks lined the edges, and Hagrid was already stepping out of his boat, motioning for the students to do the same.

"Right, everyone out!"

Duke climbed onto the dock and followed the group up a set of stone steps, carved directly into the rock. They climbed higher and higher, the sound of water fading behind them.

Finally, they reached a great oak door.

With a single heavy knock, Hagrid rapped on the wood. A moment later, the door swung open with an echoing creak, revealing Professor McGonagall standing tall in her emerald robes.

Her sharp gaze swept over the group, taking in the cluster of damp and slightly breathless first-years. The flickering torchlight cast shadows across her stern face.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," she said. "In a moment, you will enter the Great Hall and be sorted into your houses. Your house will be like your family while you are here…"

Duke barely registered the rest of her speech.

His gaze was already on the vast corridor behind her, where the glow of the Great Hall shone invitingly. The journey had ended.

Hogwarts was here.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

**The Sorting Ceremony & The Feast**

As McGonagall led them through the towering double doors, Duke's breath hitched slightly. The Great Hall was unlike anything he had ever seen before. The vast chamber stretched high, the ceiling so enchanted that it mimicked the night sky outside, complete with twinkling stars and drifting clouds. Four long tables stretched down the length of the hall, each packed with students dressed in black Hogwarts robes. Golden plates, goblets, and silverware gleamed in the candlelight, which floated midair, suspended by magic.

At the very front of the hall, another long table was set for the professors. At the center sat Albus Dumbledore, the legendary Headmaster, his half-moon spectacles glinting as he observed the new students with a small, knowing smile. Duke immediately noticed Professor Snape, his sharp gaze flicking across the first-years as if assessing their worth. To the other side of Dumbledore sat Hagrid, who gave the group a brief nod.

The first-years came to a halt before the raised platform, where an ancient wooden stool had been placed. Resting on top was the Sorting Hat—a battered, weathered thing, its wide brim sagging under centuries of age. As McGonagall stepped forward, the entire hall fell into silence.

The hat suddenly twitched, the brim opening like a mouth, and it began to sing:

Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,

But don't judge on what you see,

I'll eat myself if you can find

A smarter hat than me!

The song continued, detailing the four Hogwarts houses—brave Gryffindors, wise Ravenclaws, loyal Hufflepuffs, and ambitious Slytherins. When it finally finished, a round of applause erupted, though the first-years merely exchanged anxious glances.

McGonagall unrolled a scroll and cleared her throat.

"When I call your name, step forward and take a seat. The Sorting Hat will decide your house."

A hush fell over the hall.

The first name was called.

"Abbott, Hannah."

A nervous girl stepped forward, placing the hat on her head. After only a brief pause, the hat called out—

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

The Hufflepuff table cheered, and Hannah scurried over to take her seat.

More names were called—Bones, Susan (Hufflepuff), Boot, Terry (Ravenclaw), Brocklehurst, Mandy (Ravenclaw).

Then—

"Draco Malfoy."

The blonde boy Duke had met earlier strode toward the stool with complete confidence, barely waiting for the hat to be placed on his head before it shouted almost instantly:

"SLYTHERIN!"

The Slytherin table clapped enthusiastically as Draco took his seat, smirking as he glanced toward Duke.

More names passed—Granger, Hermione (Gryffindor, after a long deliberation), Longbottom, Neville (Gryffindor, after what seemed like an eternity). Then, finally—

"Potter, Harry."

The hall fell completely silent.

Everyone watched as Harry Potter stepped forward. Duke observed the reactions of the older students—some whispering in excitement, others craning their necks for a better view. The Sorting Hat took its time with him, muttering just loudly enough for some to hear:

"Difficult, very difficult… plenty of courage, I see. Not a bad mind, either… Hmm, talent, oh my goodness, yes… and a thirst to prove yourself…"

Duke narrowed his eyes slightly. That last part sounded eerily familiar.

After what felt like forever, the hat finally made its decision—

"GRYFFINDOR!"

The Gryffindor table erupted into cheers, and Harry quickly removed the hat and hurried over to join them. Duke simply watched with quiet curiosity.

More names were called—Parkinson, Pansy (Slytherin), Patil, Padma (Ravenclaw), Patil, Parvati (Gryffindor).

Then—

"Carter, Duke."

Duke stepped forward, feeling the weight of the entire room's gaze on him. He sat down on the stool as McGonagall placed the ancient Sorting Hat atop his head.

Immediately, he heard the voice whispering in his ear.

"Ah, yes… another interesting one. Clever, very clever… ambitious, too. You have a mind that sees beyond what's in front of you. A thirst for knowledge, but not just for its own sake—you seek understanding, power, control over your own fate…"

Duke remained still, his heart hammering despite himself.

"You would do well in Ravenclaw, no doubt… but no, I see something else in you. A drive… a cunning that will serve you well."

There was a pause.

"Yes… better be—"

"SLYTHERIN!"

Duke exhaled slowly, standing as the Slytherin table offered only silent murmurs. He made his way over, catching Draco's smug expression as he took a seat at the long green-draped table.

More names followed—

"Zabini, Blaise"

"SYLTHERIN!"

"Weasley, Ronald"

"GRYFFINDOR!"

At last, the Sorting was over.

—

The Start-of-Term Feast

Once the final student had taken their seat, Dumbledore stood, arms wide, beaming at the students.

"Welcome!" he said. "Before we begin, a few words: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you!"

Duke blinked. What?

But before he could make sense of the Headmaster's bizarre introduction, golden plates filled with food—roast chicken, beef, sausages, steaming vegetables, fluffy mashed potatoes, and more than he had ever seen in one place.

Laughter and chatter filled the hall as students eagerly dug in. Duke hesitated for only a moment before picking up his fork.

As he ate, he quietly listened to the conversations around him. Malfoy was boasting to Crabbe and Goyle, making snide comments about the other houses. Further down the table, older students were discussing advanced magic, classes, and Quidditch.

Across the hall, he noticed Harry and Ron deep in conversation, looking far more relaxed now that they were among friends. Duke looked away, focusing instead on his own plate.

As the feast drew to a close, Duke felt a quiet satisfaction settle in his chest. He was here. He had been Sorted.

And his journey at Hogwarts was only beginning.