Hogwarts: Third Dark Lord

After the Start-of-Term Feast, all the new students followed the prefects of their respective houses to their common rooms.

Meanwhile, Professor Dumbledore returned to his office. Joining him there was Hogwarts' Deputy Headmistress, Professor McGonagall.

"Albus, I need to borrow your Pensieve!"

As soon as she stepped into the Headmaster's office, Professor McGonagall wasted no time in voicing her request.

She approached Dumbledore's Pensieve, took out her wand, and gently pressed it to her temple.

A silver thread, shimmering like moonlight, was drawn out as if guided by an unseen force. She deposited it carefully into the Pensieve.

"Albus, I think you should see this for yourself."

Dumbledore, without objection, approached the Pensieve. What he saw within was the scene of Wentworth standing before the Great Hall, introducing the four Hogwarts houses.

"An interesting introduction, Minerva. I think you're overthinking this. I understand your concerns, but Wentworth's speech lacks the incitement and aggression of Gellert's."

After reviewing the memory, Dumbledore's tone was measured and calm.

However, McGonagall's response was urgent.

"Albus, don't tell me you didn't pick up on it! It's clear that the Grindelwald boy knows far too much about Hogwarts to have never been here before. How else could he describe the houses with such precision?"

"A child who's supposedly never set foot in Hogwarts, yet understands it so thoroughly—what does that tell us? It means those people have been watching Hogwarts, watching you, all these years!"

"I can't understand why you would allow his child to attend Hogwarts! We are responsible for the safety of every student here. Do you know what the Sorting Hat said about him? It said he belongs in Azkaban!"

McGonagall's rare severity did not provoke Dumbledore's anger. Instead, he responded with patience.

"Minerva, you know as well as I do that the Sorting Hat has a penchant for harmless jokes, don't you?"

Dumbledore glanced toward the Sorting Hat, which sat quietly on a nearby shelf.

This time, however, the Sorting Hat did not oblige Dumbledore. Instead, it responded bluntly, "Dumbledore, perhaps Azkaban is the right place for that boy. After all, others have walked the path from Hogwarts to Azkaban before."

McGonagall was the first to retort.

"That's because they strayed after leaving school! Most of them were exemplary students during their time here."

McGonagall's fierce loyalty to her students was evident as she rebuked the Sorting Hat without hesitation.

Dumbledore continued, "You're right, Minerva. Most of them were good students while they were here. So why can't you see Wentworth as just another student for now?"

"Minerva, you know we cannot leave a magical child to grow up untrained and unguarded. Unchecked magical talent is a danger in and of itself."

But McGonagall was not satisfied with his explanation.

"Albus, don't try to deceive me. He could have gone to Durmstrang. That would have been no difficulty for him. I want to know your real reason!"

At this, Dumbledore turned away, his expression growing contemplative. He gazed at McGonagall with a piercing intensity and spoke slowly.

"Minerva, if I'm not mistaken, next year is when the Potter boy comes to Hogwarts, isn't it?"

Momentarily thrown by the shift in topic, McGonagall replied, "If you mean Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, then yes—next year is when he begins."

Dumbledore nodded, his voice heavy.

"According to the prophecy, the one who must not be named will return soon."

Realization dawned on McGonagall. Her eyes widened in disbelief.

"You're saying... Merlin's beard!"

She stared at Dumbledore, as though the man she'd known for decades had suddenly become a stranger.

But Dumbledore remained composed. In a grave yet hopeful tone, he said, "Wentworth and Harry Potter will become great friends—I am certain of it."

"We are old, Minerva. We need the strength of the young. Rather than reject them, I would rather guide them, nurture them under our care."

Unaware of the discussions in the Headmaster's office, Wentworth followed the prefect to the Hufflepuff common room with the other first-years.

Unlike the other three houses, Hufflepuff's proximity to the Great Hall revealed its advantage.

A quick descent down the stairs, a turn around the corner—and they had arrived.

The entrance to the Hufflepuff common room was marked by a still life painting near the kitchens. Inside, the room was adorned with warm yellow drapes and furnished with soft armchairs.

A male prefect stepped forward and said, "Welcome to the Hufflepuff common room. Your dormitory assignments are already prepared—you'll find your names on the doors."

"You're in luck. Tomorrow is the weekend, so there are no classes. Use the day to explore the castle, but remember, some places are strictly off-limits—like the Forbidden Forest!"

"If anyone is still hungry, just head left out the door. The kitchens are right there. The house-elves will gladly help you."

"Now, boys, follow me. Girls, this way. Sweet dreams to you all!"

Wentworth waved goodbye to Cedric, promising to meet for breakfast the next morning.

After finding his dormitory and greeting his new roommates, Wentworth offered them snacks he had bought on the Hogwarts Express.

True to Hufflepuff's reputation for camaraderie, the other boys quickly warmed to Wentworth, and he was soon unofficially declared their leader.

While his roommates indulged in the snacks, Wentworth quietly left the dormitory. He passed through the common room and ventured into the Hogwarts dungeons.

Not far from the Hufflepuff common room, he stopped before a painting of a fruit bowl. A knowing smile spread across his face.

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