Chapter 55: The Beginning of Great Sin

The stars sparkled in the night sky.

Silvery moonlight streamed through the towering windows of the castle's high towers, cutting through the darkness like a soft cascade, casting a gentle glow on the ancient stone walls and wooden beams.

"Don't push! Upperclassmen, make way for the younger students."

"I was this close—this close—to falling and breaking my neck! When is the school going to expand the staircases? Those old professors are so stuck in their ways!"

"My dad was right—Hogwarts is dangerous!"

The Ravenclaw prefects led the students back to their common room.

At first, the procession remained orderly as they moved through the long corridors. However, reaching the uppermost levels proved to be a challenge. The constantly shifting staircases left the first-years scrambling, unprepared for their abrupt movements.

And so—what started as a neat formation quickly turned into a chaotic mess, resembling a crowd rushing to catch the last train home on a holiday. Everyone pushed and shoved, desperate to make it onto the staircase before it rotated away.

"Bloody hell! Prefects, do something! Some old witch just grabbed my arse!"

Among the crowd, Ian, had been forced to the front to avoid getting crushed. Unfortunately, this also made him an easy target. He had already suffered several questionable 'accidental' touches from people behind him.

Perhaps—when a boy was too good-looking, stepping out into the world meant constantly fighting to protect his dignity.

"Cut it out! What do you all think you're doing? Control yourselves!"

The female prefect, Penelope, snapped at the older students, her sharp tone cutting through the chatter. The male prefect, Dietrich, quickly pulled Ian to his side, shielding him from any more wandering hands.

"Our house tends to be a little… bolder than the others," Dietrich muttered under his breath, shooting a warning look at the older witches—and a few wizards—behind them.

The climb continued.

Before long, the group arrived at the topmost tower—the exclusive domain of Ravenclaw students. Many believed this high vantage point symbolized the wisdom to see beyond and above all others.

"Welcome to Ravenclaw," Penelope addressed the group, stopping before a seemingly unremarkable wooden door. "From now on, this will be your home for learning and growth."

The door had no handle, no keyhole—nothing that suggested it could open by conventional means. The only feature was an ornate bronze door knocker in the shape of an eagle, its design worn by centuries of use.

"All house entrances require a password to enter," Penelope continued. "But we are different. To pass through our door, you must answer a question."

"This is how we prove our wisdom."

She knocked.

The bronze eagle's eyes shimmered, as if awakening from slumber.

When it spoke, its voice was smooth and gentle, almost melodic.

"Knowledge or power—which changes the world more?"

A classic philosophical dilemma.

The enchanted bronze guardian patiently awaited an answer. But instead of replying herself, Penelope turned to one of the new students.

"You first, Cho Chang."

"M-me?"

Cho Chang hesitated, clearly nervous, but stepped forward nonetheless. She took a moment to gather her thoughts before answering.

"I believe knowledge is more powerful," she said, her voice growing stronger. "Knowledge enlightens minds and drives progress. Power, on the other hand, is merely a byproduct of progress."

A thoughtful silence followed.

"Well-reasoned," the eagle said approvingly.

With that, the door swung open.

Penelope gestured for Cho to step inside. The moment she did, the door promptly shut behind her.

"Wait—what?"

Ian, still near the front, tried to follow but was immediately blocked.

"This is our little initiation ritual," Penelope explained with a mischievous smile.

She knocked again.

This time, the eagle asked a different question.

"If you could choose any historical figure as your mentor, who would it be?"

Ian glanced at his surroundings—the very heart of Ravenclaw Tower.

Was there really a second answer he could give?

"Rowena Ravenclaw," he said without hesitation.

"Why?"

The eagle tilted its head.

"That would be a second question," Ian pointed out. "Ask me next time I visit."

The eagle was silent for a moment—then let out a soft chuckle.

"An excellent point."

The door creaked open again.

Ian wasted no time in dragging his trunk inside before it could shut on him.

"You got through fast," Cho remarked, looking up from her inspection of the common room's decor.

"Lucky me. Got an easy question." Ian's gaze swept across the space.

The common room was dominated by shades of blue and bronze.

Silken drapes in these colors adorned the walls, while the ceiling above was painted with a starry night sky—perfectly mirrored by the dark blue carpet beneath their feet, which was also speckled with constellations.

Near the dormitory entrance stood a magnificent white marble statue of Rowena Ravenclaw, lifelike in its craftsmanship. A plaque beside it detailed her history and achievements.

"Sometimes the questions can be really hard," Cho said. "I heard some students have been stuck answering questions all day, just because they wanted to challenge the eagle."

As a pure-blooded witch, she seemed well-versed in Hogwarts traditions.

"That poor guy probably developed trust issues after graduation," Ian mused as he examined the inscription on the statue.

"…Huh? Why?" Cho turned away from the couch she had been testing.

"Because the love of his life disappeared the moment he left school."

Ian smirked.

It took Cho a few seconds to get the joke.

"No one would fall in love with a door knocker!" she protested.

She could barely hold back her laughter.

—Meanwhile, outside—

The other students watched as yet another classmate successfully passed through the door.

Excitement filled their eyes.

As Cho had said—thinking through riddles wasn't a punishment for Ravenclaws. If anything, it was an enjoyable challenge. With each passing year, many students grew to love the ritual—some even making a game out of it.

The eagle spoke again.

"What kind of door has no door panels?"

A different kind of question this time.

"A goalpost," the next student answered without hesitation.

The door swung open once more.

Ian blinked in surprise.

"…Did it just ask a riddle?"

Sure enough, another first-year walked inside, looking rather pleased with themselves.

Ian frowned.

"This question pool is way too inconsistent."

He tapped his chin thoughtfully.

Perhaps he ought to have a little talk with their dear bronze guardian—maybe convince it to raise its standards a little.

Some advanced calculus problems might do the trick.

After all—math was one of the few things in the world that left no room for uncertainty.