The Marauders: A Hogwarts Tale

As the Sorting Ceremony concluded, Headmaster Windsor rose gracefully from his seat, his flowing robes catching the flickering light of the enchanted chandeliers above. His voice, though calm, carried effortlessly across the Great Hall.

"Now that the Sorting is complete," he began, a hint of anticipation in his tone, "let the feast... begin!"

With a theatrical wave of his hand, the long wooden tables instantly filled with an abundance of food. Golden-roasted meats, freshly baked bread, wheels of cheese, steaming bowls of soup, and vibrant platters of fruit appeared, their scents mingling into an irresistible aroma. Laughter and chatter filled the hall as students began to eat, the tension of the ceremony melting into the comfort of camaraderie.

Godric, still standing near the Ignis table, felt a warmth ripple through him. His plain robes shimmered, shifting seamlessly into the vibrant scarlet and gold of House Ignis, the sigil of a roaring flame emblazoned proudly on his chest. He glanced down at himself, his grin growing wider.

Before he could take in more, Helga appeared at his side, nearly bouncing with excitement. Her arms were comically overloaded with dishes—bread rolls piled precariously on one arm and a turkey leg clutched in the other hand. She barely managed to speak through a mouth full of food.

"Godric!" she exclaimed, swallowing hastily. "You're positively glowing! Or is it just the Ignis colors?"

"Helga, manners," Rowena chided gently as she approached, carrying only a modest plate of food. She nodded at Godric with a small smile. "Congratulations, Godric. Ignis suits you well. Though, I admit, I had hoped you might join us in Ventus."

Godric chuckled, feeling the warmth of their friendship even more than the Ignis robes. "Thanks, both of you. Honestly, I'm just happy to be here. Whatever house I'm in, I'm ready to make the most of it."

His smile faltered slightly as his gaze drifted across the hall to the Aecor table. Nerida sat with her entourage; their sharp gazes locked on him. Their sneers were palpable, and Godric felt an icy prick of disdain in the back of his mind.

Rowena followed his line of sight, her sharp eyes noticing the exchange. She placed a reassuring hand on his arm. "Ignore them," she said softly. "Some people find it easier to sneer than to smile."

"And some find it easier to hiss," Salazar's voice interjected smoothly as he joined the group, his presence calm but commanding. His attention flicked briefly to Nerida and her companions. "The Vulchanova viper and her brood. Careful, Godric—they've got venom, though their bite rarely breaks skin."

Godric let out a small laugh, albeit tinged with unease. "I'll keep that in mind, Salazar."

Distracted from Nerida, Godric's attention wandered to the massive hourglasses mounted along the stone walls behind the teacher's table. They were grand, nearly five feet tall, each representing one of the five houses. Inside, shimmering crystals in the respective house colors glinted and shifted with magical precision.

"What are those?" Godric asked, pointing. "They're beautiful."

Rowena perked up, ever eager to explain. "Those are the house point counters," she said. "You see, points are awarded for academic excellence, and other meritorious deeds. Of course, they can also be deducted for misbehavior. At the end of the year, the house with the most points wins the Avalon Cup."

Helga sighed wistfully; her turkey leg momentarily forgotten. "Terra was so close last year. We lost by just a handful of points!"

Salazar's expression soured slightly as he glanced at the blue-tinted hourglass of Aecor, its crystals shimmering like ocean waves. "Yes, and to the ever-victorious Aecor. Ten years now, if I'm not mistaken. One might almost suspect…" He trailed off. "Well, never mind."

Godric's fists clenched as he looked at the hourglasses. "Perhaps it's time for a change," he said, his voice resolute. "Ignis might just be the spark to end Aecor's reign."

Helga grinned, her cheerful spirit undampened. "That's the spirit, Godric! With you around, this year's bound to be fiery!"

Salazar raised an eyebrow, his grin sly. "Well then, Gryffindor, let's see if your flames can outshine Aecor's tides."

"My, my…"

The four friends turned toward the voice as Nerida approached with her usual air of superiority, flanked by her entourage. Her icy blue eyes sparkled with malice as her lips curled into a sharp smile.

"The new Ignis dog thinks he can swim with the sharks," she sneered, her voice dripping with venom. "How amusing."

Before Godric could respond, Rowena stepped forward, her poise unwavering as she fixed Nerida with a frosty glare.

"Careful now, Nerida," Rowena said, her tone as cold as winter frost. "Even the mightiest of sharks can be caught with the right hook."

Salazar chuckled darkly, leaning in with a glint of mischief in his eyes. "And speaking of dogs," he added, his voice soft but cutting, "you'd do well to remember—they have a way of knowing exactly when to strike. When the prey is weak, exposed, or arrogant enough to step where it doesn't belong. Wouldn't you agree, Vulchanova?"

Helga, ever the peacekeeper, tugged lightly on Godric's sleeve. "Come on, Godric," she said brightly, her cheerful tone cutting through the tension. "Let's explore the castle! We'll give you the grand tour—it's much more exciting than this."

Godric hesitated, his gaze flickering between Nerida and his friends. Finally, he stepped back, his fists unclenching, though his eyes remained locked on hers. "I… yes, let's go," he said, then added with a firm glare, "But this isn't over, Vulchanova. Ignis will prove its worth."

Nerida's smirk widened; her confidence unshaken. "Run along now, little flame," she taunted as the group turned to leave. "The tide always extinguishes the fire in the end."

Salazar glanced back at her one last time, his own smirk curling at the corner of his lips. As they walked away, Godric's resolve only grew stronger. He could feel the warmth of his house's colors on his robes, a reminder of the fire burning within him. Whatever challenges Nerida posed; he knew he wasn't facing them alone.

As the group made their way toward the exit, Godric's attention was drawn to a smaller, distinctive table set apart at the far end of the Great Hall. Unlike the other long tables, this one was round, with six ornately carved chairs—though only four were occupied. The students seated there wore an air of authority, their robes adorned with short, regal cloaks embroidered in gold with the sigils of their respective houses. They exuded a presence that set them apart from the rest.

"Hey, guys…" Godric said, nodding toward the table. "Who are they? They look... important."

Salazar followed Godric's gaze and let out a low chuckle. "Ah, so our starry-eyed newcomer has noticed the Visionaries. The crème de la crème of Excalibur, if you will."

"They're the top students," Rowena explained, her voice tinged with both admiration and calculation. "Selected for their mastery of magic, academic brilliance, and combat skill. To sit at that table is the highest honor for any student."

Helga shrugged, her tone light but laced with a hint of skepticism. "And, surprise, surprise, they're usually from the wealthiest or oldest wizarding families. Don't let those fancy cloaks fool you—they're still just students, no matter how shiny they look."

"They earned their places, Helga," Salazar countered with a sharp glance. "Talent doesn't care about bloodlines, though it certainly does help. The Visionaries are no mere figureheads. They wield real power."

Godric's gaze remained fixed on the table, his jaw tightening with resolve. "Well…" he said, squaring his shoulders. "I'll have a seat there someday. Mark my words."

Salazar let out a short laugh, his tone equal parts teasing and impressed. "Ambition suits you, Gryffindor. Perhaps you'd have been a better fit for Ferrum after all. But let's not get ahead of ourselves."

Rowena nodded approvingly, her own eyes glinting with determination. "I share your goal, Godric. The pursuit of knowledge is power, and I intend to claim it. My family has a proud legacy—every Ravenclaw in Ventus has been a Visionary, and I refuse to be the one to break that tradition."

Helga threw her arms around Godric and Rowena, her smile as bright as the sun. "Well, if you two do make it to the big table, don't you dare forget about little old me!"

As the group turned to leave, one of the Visionaries at the table shifted in his seat, his gaze locking onto Godric. He was striking, with long, dark green hair tied into a knot that cascaded down his back, and piercing brown eyes that seemed to appraise the young man with a mix of curiosity and subtle challenge. His attention lingered on the sword strapped across Godric's back. 

"Interesting…" the Visionary murmured, his voice carrying just enough weight to reach them. His fingers idly traced the bound hilt of his katana, which rested against the table. "A new flame with a mythical blade. The lion stirs."

Salazar, catching the comment, nudged Godric with a sly grin. "Well, well, Gryffindor. It seems you've caught the attention of none other than Genji Shimada, Terra's Visionary. Consider yourself… noticed."

Godric glanced back, meeting Genji's steady gaze. His voice was quiet but steady. "I've heard of the Shimada clan. Legends, really—swordsmen of unmatched skill. I didn't know their legacy extended to magic."

Rowena's expression tightened slightly as she regarded Genji from a distance. "Be cautious, Godric. The Shimadas aren't just known for their swordsmanship. Their minds are equally as sharp."

Helga, on the other hand, clapped her hands together, brimming with enthusiasm. "Oh, maybe if you ask him really nicely, he'll teach you some of his fancy sword tricks. Can you imagine, Godric, all swooshy-swishy and—" She mimicked exaggerated sword swings, complete with whooshing sound effects.

Godric couldn't help but laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. "I think I've got enough on my plate just figuring out this place, Helga."

Salazar, however, was quieter than usual, his expression thoughtful as he watched Genji from the corner of his eye. "The lion stirs indeed," he murmured under his breath. "This year might turn out to be far more interesting than any of us anticipated."