Chapter 8: A Letter

Dear Mom and Dad,

Though I’ve only just left home, I already miss you both terribly. I hope you’re both in good health and in high spirits.

Yesterday, we arrived at Hogwarts aboard a deep crimson steam train. The school is a magnificent castle, surrounded by rolling lawns, dense forests, and a shimmering lake. I must say, the morning scenery here is absolutely breathtaking.

We reached the castle just as dusk fell. The first thing we did was the Sorting. You already know, of course—Hogwarts is divided into four Houses: Gryffindor, known for courage and boldness; Hufflepuff, for loyalty and integrity; Ravenclaw, for wisdom and intellect; and Slytherin, for ambition and cunning…

Here, Wade paused, his pen hovering mid-stroke.

He suddenly realized something: while the other three Houses judged students by their character, Ravenclaw valued only ability. So what kind of people ended up in Ravenclaw?

The clever and brave went to Gryffindor—like Dumbledore, like Hermione. The clever and loyal found their place in Hufflepuff—like Scamander (the protagonist of Fantastic Beasts) and Cedric. The clever and ambitious? They were drawn to Slytherin—Voldemort, Snape.

Then who remained in Ravenclaw?

Perhaps the truly intelligent—quick-witted, sharp-minded—but intelligence alone isn’t enough. Clever people often know how to avoid danger and hardship, preferring easier paths that serve their own interests. But real achievement demands more than a sharp mind. It needs inner drive—courage to charge forward, resilience to endure, or ambition to push beyond limits. A brilliant mind that withdraws into its own world, detached and indifferent, often ends up seen as eccentric by others.

That’s why, in the stories, Ravenclaw has the least presence among the four Houses. Nearly every Ravenclaw character—whether student or alum—seems, in some way, a little off-beam. Except Qiu Zhang, of course.

When the Sorting Hat declared he was best suited for Ravenclaw, Wade frowned slightly. He wasn’t happy about it.

But then he reminded himself: no hat can decide who he truly is. And the Sorting Hat has been wrong before—like when it placed the cowardly Peter Pettigrew in Gryffindor.

He took a breath, then resumed writing:

The Sorting Hat said I belonged in Ravenclaw. I suppose that’s the highest compliment it could give my mind. And honestly, I intend to make the most of the next seven years by soaking up as much knowledge as I can. I’ve heard there’s no library in all of Britain that matches Hogwarts’ collection. To be frank, the wizarding world lags far behind the Muggle one when it comes to long-term vision. There are no public libraries here—precious books are either locked in school archives or hoarded in private family libraries.

Headmaster Albus Dumbledore is a rather peculiar man. He has long, silvery hair and a matching beard, and his presence perfectly matches the image of a mystical wizard—almost like a living Merlin. Can you imagine? His opening speech began with, “Idiots! Sniveling! Scraps! Twisted!” No one had any idea what it meant. But honestly, it was far better than the usual long-winded, dull speeches. Because right after he finished, our tables were suddenly filled with delicious food—yes, it appeared out of thin air. Magic is incredible. And we were starving.

Odd as he is, Professor Dumbledore is also kind, gentle, and surprisingly witty. He’s widely regarded as the greatest wizard of our time. A classmate from a wizarding family told me that thanks to Dumbledore, Hogwarts is considered the safest place in the world. So please don’t worry about me. There’s no random hexing here—students behave just like kids in any ordinary school. No one’s going to attack you for no reason.

Also, my House—Ravenclaw—has its own tower, located on the western side of the castle. After dinner, our prefect, West Mor, led us to the tower. To enter the common room, you must answer a riddle posed by the door knocker. The common room itself is a spacious, circular chamber with a deep blue dome painted with countless stars. The thick carpet is also studded with constellations, giving the room a quiet, elegant atmosphere. There are arched windows all around, and bronze-colored silk curtains hang down, framing views of distant mountains, open fields, and even the school’s Quidditch pitch.

Our dormitories are in a nearby turret—admittedly, getting back to them means climbing a lot of stairs. But upperclassmen say the castle’s staircases are especially kind to Ravenclaw students. They rarely shift or misbehave, and sometimes even rearrange themselves to form shortcuts—cutting our journey in half. Perhaps it’s because the ever-changing staircases were designed by Rowena Ravenclaw herself.

Ravenclaw has the fewest students among the four Houses. Dorms are double rooms, but there was one extra boy. So… you’ve probably already guessed what happened. I acted fast and submitted a request. And luckily, I was granted a single room.

My dorm is cozy and warm—complete with a bed, wardrobe, desk, bookshelf, and even a private bathroom. Everything is already provided. We don’t have to do laundry or clean up. There’s a whole fleet of invisible house-elves who take care of everything while we sleep. I’m sure they’re the ones who brought my trunk up here—thank goodness I didn’t have to drag it up the spiral staircase myself.

My fellow Ravenclaws are all very friendly. West Mor, our prefect, has been especially kind to the first-years. He waited outside the common room first thing in the morning to guide us to the Great Hall for breakfast, and handed out our timetables. The schedule is remarkably light—definitely the least stressful part of the term.

After breakfast, West Mor gave us a full tour of the school. He showed us where each class is held, which areas are off-limits, and even shared shortcuts to the library, the hospital wing, and the Quidditch pitch.

We’ll be starting flying lessons soon. I’ll be riding a broomstick for the first time—can you believe it? I never thought humans could soar through the sky like birds. But I’ll follow instructions carefully and stay safe. No reckless stunts, I promise.

In closing, Hogwarts is truly an amazing school. I love it here.

With all my love,

Wade Gray

Two lives, and Wade wasn’t like ordinary children. He knew exactly how parents feel when their child leaves home—full of quiet worry, endless affection, and unspoken fears. So, during a quiet moment before class, he wrote every little detail of his arrival, even drawing a simple sketch of the school layout and tucking it into the letter.

After finishing, he reread it carefully and changed the description of Slytherin from “ambitious” to “shrewd and proud.”

Not that he was praising Slytherin—far from it. He just didn’t want his parents to pick up on any subtle tension in the wording. They still carried the scars of the war, still feared the old prejudices. Ever since receiving the acceptance letter, they’d quietly blamed themselves for his being a squib—worried he’d be judged, ostracized, or left behind.

Wade wanted to tell them: it’s okay. The war is over. Blood purity isn’t a thing anymore. Hogwarts is safe. His background doesn’t matter. His family isn’t a burden.

Being their son is the greatest gift he’s ever known.

(End of Chapter)

Chapter end