Dark Wings Over Hogwarts

The Hogwarts Express screeched to a stop at Hogsmeade Station, steam billowing into the night air. Excited whispers and nervous chatter filled the platform as the first-year students stepped onto the wooden planks, their eyes wide with wonder. The cool evening breeze carried the scent of pine and damp earth, a stark contrast to the warm, stuffy train compartments they had just left.

"Firs' years! Firs' years, this way!" boomed a familiar voice. Hagrid, the half-giant gamekeeper, stood at the platform's edge, waving his massive hand to gather the students. He smiled kindly as the nervous first-years huddled together.

"Come along, now! We're off to the boats!" he said, leading them down the path to the Black Lake. The group hesitated momentarily before following, some clinging to their new friends for reassurance.

The journey across the lake was breathtaking. The vast expanse of water shimmered under the moonlight, and as they neared the castle, its towering spires and glowing windows reflected in the still water. Gasps of awe rippled through the boats as Hogwarts came into full view, standing tall and majestic against the night sky.

From the staff table inside the Great Hall, Zane Falconer watched the procession from afar. His sharp, observant eyes took in the scene—the wide-eyed wonder of the first-years, the welcoming cheers from the older students, the slight nervous tension in some of the professors. He had been to many places, seen many things, but there was something about Hogwarts, an undercurrent of energy that couldn't be ignored.

Professor McGonagall awaited the first-years at the castle entrance, her expression stern but not unkind.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," she said crisply. "In a few moments, you will pass through these doors and be sorted into your houses. While you are here, your house will be like your family. You will earn points for good behavior and lose points for breaking the rules. At the end of the year, the house with the most points will be awarded the House Cup, a great honor."

The students exchanged nervous glances. McGonagall's gaze swept over them before she continued, "Now, compose yourselves. Follow me."

She led them through the grand entrance hall, past towering marble columns and enchanted candlelit chandeliers, into the Great Hall. The sight that met them was mesmerizing—four long tables filled with older students, their robes displaying the colors of Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. The enchanted ceiling above mirrored the night sky, its stars twinkling softly.

At the front of the hall, a tattered, ancient hat sat on a stool. As the students took their places, the hat suddenly twitched, and then, to everyone's surprise, it began to sing:

(Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,

But don't judge on what you see,

I'll eat myself if you can find

A smarter hat than me.

You can keep your bowlers black,

Your top hats sleek and tall,

For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat

And I can cap them all.

There's nothing hidden in your head

The Sorting Hat can't see,

So try me on and I will tell

Where you ought to be.

You might belong in Gryffindor,

Where dwell the brave at heart,

Their daring, nerve, and chivalry

Set Gryffindors apart;

You might belong in Hufflepuff,

Where they are just and loyal,

Those patient Hufflepuffs are true

And unafraid of toil;

Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,

If you've a ready mind,

Where those of wit and learning,

Will always find their kind;

Or perhaps in Slytherin,

You'll make your real friends,

Those cunning folks use any means

To achieve their ends.

So put me on! Don't be afraid!

And don't get in a flap!

You're in safe hands (though I have none)

For I'm a Thinking Cap!)

As the song ended, the hall erupted into applause. McGonagall stepped forward. "When I call your name, step forward and place the hat on your head."

The sorting began.

"Abbott, Hannah!"

A shy girl with blonde hair approached hesitantly. The Sorting Hat barely took a moment before shouting, "HUFFLEPUFF!"

The Hufflepuff table cheered as she hurried to join them.

"Bones, Susan!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Boot, Terry!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

The sorting continued, with more names called, each student stepping forward, trembling with anticipation.

"Granger, Hermione!" McGonagall called.

A bushy-haired girl walked briskly to the stool and placed the hat on her head. It took a few seconds before it declared, "GRYFFINDOR!"

Hermione sighed in relief and practically skipped to her new housemates.

"Longbottom, Neville!"

The nervous boy tripped on his way to the stool, causing a few chuckles. The Sorting Hat took a moment longer before deciding, "GRYFFINDOR!"

As the sorting neared its end, McGonagall finally called, "Potter, Harry!"

The hall fell into hushed whispers as the famous boy walked to the stool. The hat seemed to deliberate for a long time before it finally declared, "GRYFFINDOR!"

Cheers erupted from the Gryffindor table as Harry joined them, his relief evident.

With the last student sorted, Dumbledore stood, his eyes twinkling. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our feast, I have some announcements to make."

The hall quieted as the headmaster continued, "First, I would like to introduce our two new professors. Professor Quirrell, who will be teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts." There was polite applause as a nervous-looking man in a turban gave a jerky nod.

"And Professor Falconer, who will be teaching our new Combat Magic class, available to students from second to sixth year."

A murmur spread through the hall as students turned to look at the dark-haired man seated among the staff. Zane Falconer met their gazes with a calm, unreadable expression, offering only a slight nod in acknowledgment.

From his seat, Falconer could feel the weight of their curiosity. They wondered who he was, what he would teach, and whether he was worth their attention. He didn't mind. He wasn't here for their approval.

"Furthermore," Dumbledore continued, "a reminder that the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is strictly forbidden unless you wish to suffer a most painful fate." His words, though delivered lightly, sent a chill through the students.

Falconer's eyes flickered briefly toward Dumbledore. So, the headmaster had already set things in motion. He had read between the lines of their earlier conversations—there were secrets hidden behind those twinkling eyes.

"Now, let the feast begin!"

At his words, the golden plates before them filled with an extravagant assortment of food. Laughter and conversation filled the hall as students ate heartily, first-years already bonding with their new housemates.

When the meal finally ended, Dumbledore stood again. "Before you head to your dormitories, a few more reminders. First, magic is not to be used in the corridors between classes. Second, the Forbidden Forest remains off-limits. And third, once again, the third-floor corridor is restricted."

With that, the prefects led the first-years to their respective dorms. The Great Hall emptied slowly, the echoes of laughter and whispered excitement fading into the castle walls.

Zane Falconer leaned back slightly, exhaling. He wasn't just another professor. He had his own reasons for being here.

The school year had begun.

And so had his real work at Hogwarts.

-----------------------------------------------------

Note: What do you think of Professor Falconer? Do you like his introduction, or do you want more hints about his background? Let me know in the comments! Also, what subjects do you think should be part of the Combat Magic curriculum?