With a "click," the doorknob turned and as Stark stepped inside, he was momentarily disoriented. When he regained his senses, he found himself sitting in a small boat, holding an oar, with rippling waves all around him.
Stark looked down at his hands and was surprised to see that the deep grooves and lines that had marked his skin were gone, replaced by smooth, unblemished skin that looked like it belonged to a child.
He looked down and saw that he was wearing a black robe that was a bit too big for him. When he stood up, he realized that he had been transformed into a child of about 10 years old.
"What are you doing? Sit down and row!" a voice behind him called out. Stark turned around and saw another child dressed like him waving at him.
"Row? Why do we have to row?" Stark asked.
The student behind him sighed and said, "Can't you see the castle in front of us? That's our school, and we have to row there!"
"School?" Stark turned around and was stunned by what he saw.
The lake shimmered with the reflection of the castle's lights. Looking up, he saw a magnificent castle towering in the distance, its image reflected in the moonlit water like a flag fluttering in the wind at the entrance to a magical world.
Stark stared at the castle, the light shining in his brown eyes, reigniting the flame of his childhood dreams.
"It's beautiful, isn't it?" the student behind him exclaimed. "I've dreamed of it several times since I received my acceptance letter."Stark sat down and began rowing the boat until it reached the shore. Many children dressed in black robes like him were herded off the boat like ducks and led up the steps by a tall figure.
As he stepped into the magnificent hall, Stark looked up and saw the endless starry sky and floating candles. All the children were staring up in awe at the wondrous and beautiful sight.
Then, a person dressed in black robes like them, but who looked like a teacher, walked over and shouted, "Line up! Be careful! Don't bump into anyone!"
Stark was pushed into the crowd and followed their movements, walking in the front row because he had gotten off the boat early. He could see the male teacher who was organizing the line.
He was wearing a loose black robe, round glasses, and a Thunderbolt-shaped scar on his forehead. Stark heard someone call him "Professor" and felt a little strange because the teacher looked very young and didn't seem old enough to be a professor.
He wanted to ask, but at that moment, the person sitting in the main seat at the front of the hall tapped a spoon against a glass, and Stark looked up, his eyes dazzled by the candlelight.
He heard people whispering next to him, "Is that the headmaster? He looks so young."
"Yeah, I heard he used to be a professor of herbology and just became the new headmaster."
"Shh, be quiet. The sorting ceremony is about to begin!"
"Sorting ceremony? What's that?" Stark turned to the person next to him, and the student blinked and said, "Are your parents Muggles too? But surely you read the instructions on the acceptance letter?"
"This school has four houses, and the Sorting Hat will decide which house you will be in. I really want to be in Gryffindor. What about you?"
"Four houses? What's the difference between them?"
"Well, I'm not sure, but I heard Gryffindor is the best house. Many famous wizards come from there, and their representative animal is a lion. I really like lions..."
Stark listened as the student chattered on about the four houses, turning his head to look around at the detailed and realistic surroundings. If this was a dream, it was a beautiful one. He looked at his palms, which were unmarked by the passage of time, and felt the vitality of youth pulsing through his veins.
What was he doing at this age?
Stark wondered. He was certainly not attending a boarding school with these children. He remembered spending his childhood in Howard's laboratory, tinkering with mechanical parts, taking apart toys, and putting them back together.
As he thought about this, he heard the young male teacher standing next to a seat, calling out names from a list. Whenever a name was called, a student in a black robe would rush up and sit in the chair.
The teacher would then place a hat on their head, and to Stark's surprise, the hat would speak.
Well, this was a dream, and anything could happen in a dream, right? Just as he was thinking this, he heard the hat suddenly shout out, "Hufflepuff!"
Stark was startled by the sharp voice, and many students below also whispered, seemingly discussing.
After listening for a while, Stark found that they seemed to be calling names by surname, and it would be a while before it was his turn, as surnames starting with S should be towards the back.
But there weren't many students waiting in the entire auditorium, so it was soon Stark's turn. He heard the male teacher standing in front of him shout his full name: "Anthony Stark!"
Stark curiously walked up and sat in the chair. In the moment the dusty hat fell on his head, he felt an electric shock-like sensation.
"Oh... oh..."
He heard a voice with a dramatic tone and a slightly funny accent in his mind: "Another genius-like brain, let me see..."
"Hey, wait!... What is this? What is this again? My goodness! What have you filled your brain with?!!!"
"...Little Tony, do you know? The teacher standing next to you used to be a proud member of the magic department, and an elite one at that. If I scream, he will immediately grab you!"
"Look at what's in your brain!" The sorting hat suddenly raised its voice: "It's filled with all sorts of Muggle knowledge! Too much... My goodness, was your brain made by a machine? Do you need some lubricant?"
"Why do you talk so much?" Stark asked in his mind.
The sorting hat fell silent, seemingly not having encountered such a straightforward student before. After a while, it said, "Which house do you want to go to?"
Stark was about to speak when he heard the hat speak on its own: "If I don't sort you into Ravenclaw, it would be a disgrace to my name. But in fact, I also saw the courage of Gryffindor and the kindness of Hufflepuff in your heart. Where do you want to go?"
Stark hesitated for a moment and said, "I heard that Gryffindor is the best house, is that true?"
"No, no, no, it's just the most famous house. The houses in this school are not good or bad, only whether they are suitable for you."
"Do you think Ravenclaw is very suitable for me?"
"The founder of that house once said, 'Wit beyond measure is man's greatest treasure.'"
"I choose Ravenclaw," Stark said without hesitation.
"Okay!" The sorting hat raised its voice again, but this time, it didn't directly shout out the name, but gave a long attributive sentence:
"A lucky house will once again welcome an extraordinary genius, and that is..."
Everyone below cheered, shouting the name of their own house, seemingly looking forward to the arrival of the next celebrity. At this time, the sorting hat shouted loudly, "Wisdom belongs to Ravenclaw!"
When Stark got off the chair and walked back to his seat, the male teacher standing next to him smiled at him. When he returned to his seat, the senior students greeted him and said, "You will like it here. We have the best common room and library, as well as the best brains."
The candlelight began to flicker, and the lively atmosphere continued. In the magnificent hall, there was constant laughter and joy. When Stark felt a little tired, they finally returned to their common room under the guidance of the senior students.
Stark had never attended a boarding school like this before, but he had heard rumors about Catholic boarding schools. He thought this would be a school with very strict management, where everyone would do things according to the Bible. But soon, he found that the magic of this school was far beyond that.
"This is the door to the common room. I think you all saw it. Did you see the doorknob? It is our guardian. You must answer the question it asks you before you can enter the common room."
The senior sister standing at the front said, "The sorting hat has recognized your wisdom, but every year there are many fools who are locked out because they can't answer the question. I don't think you want to be one of them."
"Today, I will demonstrate it first, and then you will do it yourself in the future."
When Stark heard the doorknob speak, he didn't feel too shocked. He convinced himself to accept all the unreasonable things here with the reason that "this is a dream."
Putting aside these things, he found it quite interesting. After all, it's not often that you answer a doorknob's question with a straight face.
Walking into the common room, Stark was surprised by its magnificence. It wasn't that he had no experience, but he had never seen this kind of style before. It was more like a scene that would appear in a novel or movie.
Blue silk slid down from the walls, rows of bookshelves were placed against the walls, and the large arched floor-to-ceiling windows let moonlight spill onto the blue carpet, making everything look wonderful and beautiful.
In this way, Stark dreamed a dream in his dream, going to school, attending classes, and doing homework like an ordinary person. These things, which were originally boring and a waste of time in his imagination, became wonderful after being influenced by the style of this school.
When the morning light shone in his dormitory, Stark sat up from the bed and felt a long-lost relaxation. His somewhat monotonous childhood had gained some different memories, although he was very clear that this was just a dream. But a long-lost beautiful dream still made people feel happy.
Unfortunately, this happy mood only lasted until the beginning of the first class. Stark heard the teacher on the stage say:
"As we all know, the first class of the school year is the spell class, where you will learn how to use your wand to cast spells. Of course, in the first year, we will only learn the simplest spells."
"You have seven years to slowly learn the powerful magic that has been passed down through the ages."
"So now, take out your wands..."
Stark was stunned in front of his desk.
Wand?
Magic???
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