THE MASTERMIND OF HOGWARTS

Penelope glanced out the window of the train. It was already dark, and the mountains and forests shrouded in twilight seemed to be stained with a layer of deep purple as the Hogwarts Express gradually slowed down.

"I'll head back to my compartment to change into my robes. See you when I'm sorted, Mr. Moriarty." Lilith waved at Moriarty before getting up and leaving.

At that moment, Penelope also took out her wizarding robes, and Moriarty stepped out with Percy to give her privacy while she changed.

Five minutes later, the train came to a full stop, and the excited first-years swarmed toward the doors, pushing and shoving as they descended onto a small, dimly lit platform.

Hagrid, towering over them with his lantern in hand, called out, "Firs'-years! This way! Follow me!"

Under his guidance, the new students boarded the boats in groups of four. Moriarty, Penelope, and Percy ended up in the last group. Just as they were about to board, Lilith reappeared.

She leaned in slightly, lowering her voice. "When I went back to change, I overheard something interesting. Most pureblood families are delighted by your presence, but—well, you know, where there's admiration, there's always a handful who feel otherwise. They're awkward and annoying."

Moriarty barely spared her a glance before replying coolly, "You're implying I need to be cautious? I don't think so."

Lilith smirked, but said nothing more.

Moriarty's mind was already set on his plans for dealing with the pureblood families, whether it be influential figures like Lucius Malfoy or the pureblood students at Hogwarts.

As the boats drifted across the Black Lake, the grand silhouette of Hogwarts Castle loomed into view, its many towers and turrets rising against the starry sky.

A warmth spread through Moriarty's fingers as he tightened his grip on the Slytherin staff. He knew he hadn't activated any magic—this sensation was something else entirely. It was a connection, ancient and powerful, between Hogwarts and the staff itself.

For the staff, this was homecoming.

A flood of thoughts filled Moriarty's mind. He recalled the rumored hidden passages within the castle and the possibility of accessing the Chamber of Secrets without needing to speak Parseltongue.

Noticing Moriarty lost in thought, Percy attempted to break the silence. "They say first-years cross the lake in groups of four to honor the four founders of Hogwarts—"

But Percy's words went largely unnoticed. Lilith was studying Moriarty's profile with interest, while Penelope was gazing longingly at the castle, her eyes filled with wonder.

The boats glided smoothly to the dock, and the students disembarked. After passing through a tunnel and climbing the stone steps, they arrived at the grand oak doors.

Hagrid rapped on the door with his massive fist, signaling the end of his task. As he turned to leave, Moriarty overheard a few students murmuring in hushed, disdainful tones about the half-giant. It was clear that some of the pureblood families had already begun passing their prejudices onto their children.

Before any of them could voice their opinions further, the doors swung open, revealing Professor McGonagall.

She ushered the first-years into a small chamber off the entrance hall, her sharp eyes scanning the group before lingering on Moriarty for a moment. Moriarty was certain she recognized him.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," she said, her voice firm and authoritative. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you must first be sorted into your houses."

Her glasses reflected the flickering torchlight, giving her an even more imposing presence.

"The four houses are Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each house has a long and proud history and has produced some of the greatest witches and wizards of our time."

As McGonagall continued her explanation about house points and the House Cup, Penelope began to understand why Moriarty was attracting so much attention. However, rather than feeling excited, she felt as if an invisible wall had been placed between them, making him seem even more distant.

Before she could dwell on it further, a sudden chill swept through the chamber.

Hogwarts' ghosts had arrived.

The Bloody Baron, Lady Grey, Nearly Headless Nick, and the Fat Friar emerged from the walls, their translucent forms hovering above the first-years.

The Bloody Baron's hollow gaze seemed to scan the room, searching for something—or someone.

Suddenly, Nearly Headless Nick let out a delighted cry. "Look, Baron! Look! He looks exactly like Salazar Slytherin!"

"Nick, be quiet," the Bloody Baron snapped, his voice gruff. Yet, as he floated closer to Moriarty, his vacant eyes filled with something resembling recognition.

"Though it may not mean much now, I still wish to say this—I am sorry to my master and to your ancestors," the Baron murmured. "I have had centuries to reflect, and yet, I cannot claim an honorable death. There is still too much I regret."

His gaze shifted toward Lady Grey, then toward the Great Hall, before he drifted away, lost in his own sorrow.

Moriarty watched him go. The Bloody Baron's tragedy was well known, but few understood the depth of his guilt.

"Baron means no harm," Lady Grey spoke softly. "He has carried the weight of his actions for centuries, unable to forgive himself. We often see him lamenting his past, but it was his choice to make, and no one can change that now."

"I understand," Moriarty said simply.

The ghosts of Hogwarts had long since become a part of the school itself. Moriarty found them intriguing rather than unsettling.

The other ghosts, sensing the tension, resumed their chatter, though most of their conversations were still centered around Moriarty.

The Fat Friar drifted closer, beaming. "You may find Baron a bit peculiar, but we old souls care deeply for Hogwarts, just as much as Headmaster Dumbledore does.

In fact, not only Baron and Lady Grey but all of us reacted when we learned of your arrival.

Nick hasn't complained about his nearly severed head in days, Lady Grey has spoken more than usual, and even Peeves—well, he locked himself in a classroom for three days before finally emerging."

Moriarty gave the kindly ghost a small smile. "I don't mind. Hogwarts is more than just a school to me."

The Friar chuckled warmly. "Ah, I knew we were right about you. Now, the Sorting Hat is about to begin—we must be off. But, if I may, even though you are surely bound for Slytherin, I extend a warm welcome from Hufflepuff."

As the ghosts floated away, Nick called out, "Gryffindor welcomes you too! Gryffindor welcoming a Slytherin—how fascinating!"

Just then, Professor McGonagall returned, carrying a stool and a frayed, ancient hat.

"Ah! At last! Bring me the Slytherin heir!" The Sorting Hat squirmed excitedly atop the stool. "Salazar Slytherin left a part of his mind within me, and I've been waiting for this moment! Place me on your head, young master!"

"Patience, Hat. We must follow tradition." Professor McGonagall's voice was firm, though she cast Moriarty a brief glance.

"Very well, very well," the Hat muttered. "But before we begin, I have a new song—one I spent an entire year composing."

Moriarty immediately understood—the Sorting Hat had written this song for him.

And then, the Sorting Hat began to sing.