Of Constellations → 𝘥. 𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘧𝘰𝘺

iii. theodore nott pt. i

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

chapter three

theodore nott part one

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

It took me quite a while to get used to Hogwarts. The castle was enormous.

It had been a week, and I still could barely make it to the Great Hall without taking at least one wrong turn. Sometimes, it felt like the castle was trying to trick me—doors that led to nowhere, rooms that changed location at will, hidden spots on the floor that your leg would just fall through. You had to learn the hard way where not to step; Hogwarts did not have Caution: No Floor signs.

(It was a good thing there was no such thing as lawsuits in the wizarding world. I watched a Gryffindor trip over one of the holes and chip his tooth on the first day.)

Though I supposed I should have been annoyed by all of the castle's peculiarities, they only added to its arcane charm. It was a completely different world at Hogwarts than at home. Like all-magical spaces tended to be, it was wonderful and baffling all at once.

(The exception was the moving stairs. Those were not charming. I was convinced they could sense when you were in a hurry and moved on purpose to make you late.)

Here is what my dad had been right about: I loved it at Hogwarts and I loved all my classes (well, all except for History of Magic. I hadn't yet made it through that class without falling asleep).

Here is what my dad had been wrong about: I'd be making a lot of friends.

I was not making a lot of friends.

A week in, the Hufflepuffs became the found family McGonagall told them they would (they even had nicknames for each other), the Gryffindors had an extensive canon of inside jokes (every time Professor Sprout said Spiky Bush in Herbology, they'd glance around at each other and giggle uncontrollably), and the Slytherins had formed a union (they were the house of self-preservation and fraternity—make an enemy of one of them, make an enemy of all of them). 

And then there were the Ravenclaws, who tended to stick to themselves, it turned out. I still didn't know two of my roommates' names. They'd told me the first night, but I'd forgotten and I felt too awkward to ask them again.

The lack of camaraderie didn't matter much to me, though. It was better to be an introvert in a house of introverts than an introvert in a house of extroverts.

Here is what I had got right: Ravenclaw was the house for me.

I liked our quiet competitiveness, the value of learning above all else. And, even if I didn't value any Ravenclaw traits, our common room was reason enough to want to be there.

It wasn't protected by a password, like some of the other houses. Our eagle door knocker required us to solve a riddle before allowing us into the tight, spiral staircase that led up to the common room. It probably wasn't a terribly good way to secure the tower—I would bet a particularly cunning Slytherin could easily get in if they so chose—but, it always gave me a small thrill when I solved them right away.

And the room itself was beautiful—spacious, bright with natural light streaming through elegantly arched windows. The domed ceiling was painted with a midnight-blue sky, flecked with white stars. We even had our own library! And, the Ravenclaw Tower loomed high above the grounds, equal to Gryffindor's Tower. There was a remarkable view of the Black Lake out of one of the many tall windows, and I found I didn't mind it when it was so far away.