Chương 38: Chapter 39 : Roommates

Tyson's first impression of Ravenclaw's common room was that it was warm, cozy, and as aesthetically appealing as a ridiculously expensive café. It was a large circular room with a high domed ceiling enchanted to mimic the night sky, twinkling with countless stars, just like the carpet beneath their feet. Tall, arched windows offered a dazzling view of the grounds below. Tyson could see the Black Lake in the distance, shimmering under the moonlight like liquid obsidian.

One corner was lined with a row of towering bookshelves filled to the brim with books, their titles making Tyson's eyes glint. A large fireplace crackled at the center, surrounded by designer chairs and couches. Everything was decorated in blue and bronze, with Ravenclaw's banner hanging proudly on the walls. Several older students were sitting on the sofas chatting, and when the first-years entered, they looked over and waved.

Penelope allowed everyone to catch their breath for a few minutes before stepping to the center of the common room.

"Welcome to Hogwarts, and congratulations on being sorted into Ravenclaw," she began with a warm smile.

"As I'm sure many of you already know, ours is a house that values wit, wisdom, and creativity above all else. Our emblem is the eagle, which soars where others cannot climb. Here, curiosity is encouraged, and knowledge is treasured." She gestured gracefully around the room.

"The windows provide excellent views of the Hogwarts grounds during the day, and the ceiling above us is enchanted to reflect the current sky. The long climb may seem like a drawback now, but believe me, once you've learned to fly, reaching the tower by broom becomes quite enjoyable." Tyson passed on that. Learning to fly was definitely a must, but using a broom just to get to the common room felt like a complete waste. Climbing several hundred stairs every day was basically a free cardio session.

Besides, after seeing the sorry state of some of his classmates halfway up the tower, he was beginning to suspect Rowena Ravenclaw had designed the place this way on purpose so the nerds could get some exercise. Perhaps the founder also believed that an ideal witch or wizard should be strong in both body and mind. Truly the wisest witch of her era. Penelope pointed toward a row of bookshelves lining one wall.

"As you can see, we also have our own little library. These books are part of our founder's personal collection. Some of these tomes aren't even available in the Hogwarts library. You're free to browse them whenever you like. Ravenclaw has never believed in restricting knowledge." She paused before adding, "That said, don't be too eager to study material beyond your year. Focus on your coursework first.

Do well in your end-of-year examinations, and you'll have plenty of time to explore more advanced subjects later." A ripple of excitement swept through the first-years, Tyson included. As for the part about not being eager for material beyond their year, he found that complete bullshit—bullshit that stank. He hadn't crossed an ocean and enrolled in a magical school just to spend seven years obediently following a government-approved curriculum.

He was here to learn magic, not compete with a bunch of eleven-year-olds over who was the bigger nerd. Stolen story; please report. Besides, his grades didn't matter much. Unlike Penelope's boyfriend, he wasn't planning to build the perfect resume and spend the next forty years climbing the Ministry's corporate ladder, only to end up licking Umbridge's hairy, shriveled arse for a promotion. Becoming a business tycoon in the Muggle world sounded far more appealing, and far less disgusting.

Penelope's expression grew a touch more serious as she continued.

"Ravenclaw House has a long and proud history of producing exceptional witches and wizards. We expect you to uphold that standard. Work hard, ask questions, and never be afraid to think for yourselves. If you have any issues or questions, my fellow prefects and I are here to help. Also, your timetable for tomorrow will be delivered to your room before you wake up." Then she clapped her hands together once.

"Now, let's get you all settled. Boys, follow Robert to the left staircase. Girls, follow me to the right. Your dormitories are located one floor up. Each of you has a trunk already placed at the foot of your bed." With that, she led the girls away while the boys followed Robert, a tall, brown-haired fifth year with spectacles. Climbing a short spiral staircase, they found themselves in a narrow corridor lined with wooden doors on either side, which Tyson presumed were their dormitories.

Robert stopped and began calling out names, pointing each student toward their assigned room. Each dorm accommodated four people. Tyson was surprised to find he was in the same room as Terry, Michael, and Anthony. Totally a coincidence. When they pushed open the heavy oak door, Tyson couldn't suppress a low whistle. The dormitory closely matched the aesthetic of the common room. It was circular and surprisingly spacious, with four four-poster beds arranged evenly around the curved walls.

Blue curtains trimmed with bronze hung from each bed, while enchanted globes drifted lazily beneath the ceiling. His trunk was already waiting at the foot of the bed nearest one of the tall windows. Convenient.

"Finally," Terry groaned, stumbling over to the nearest bed—which happened to be his—and collapsing onto it face-first like a sack of potatoes.

"I think my legs need to be amputated." Michael and Anthony looked equally tired. Without another word, the three of them changed into more comfortable clothes before immediately claiming their beds. The moment Tyson dropped onto his bed, he felt the mattress swallow him whole. It was genuinely more comfortable than the bed he had back home, and his family wasn't exactly poor. Hogwarts, it seemed, spared no expense when it came to its students' comfort. If only they applied that same philosophy to their safety.

Talk about priorities. The room gradually fell silent. Tyson lay there for a while, absentmindedly staring at the canopy above him. One sheep... Two sheep... Three sheep... Sixty-seventh sheep... At some point, the counting stopped, and sleep claimed him.... Snore. Snore. SNORE!

"... For fuck's sake!" Tyson's eyes snapped open, his brows furrowed with irritation. He lay there for a few seconds, staring at the canopy above his bed, hoping the noise would stop on its own. It didn't, of course. In the end, he let out a breath and pushed himself up. The dorm room was dim, save for the faint morning light filtering through the curtains, painting everything gray. Everything was quiet except for— Tyson turned his head toward the source of the disturbance.

Terry was sleeping like he'd been thrown onto the bed and just... left there. Half his body was on the mattress, the other half hanging off. One leg stuck out at a weird angle, twitching every few seconds. The blanket had lost the fight completely and was bunched up near his feet. And his mouth was wide open, lips slack, cheeks puffing slightly with each breath. Every inhale dragged in air, followed by a rattling, uneven snore on the exhale. A pause. Then back to snoring. Tyson stared at him with deadpan eyes.

'... Should've known it was this guy.' Apparently, his friend's loudmouth trait didn't switch off even when he was asleep. It all made sense. There had better be a potion for this, though, because the idea of waking up to this every morning didn't sound appealing to him in the slightest. Rubbing his eyes, he glanced at an antique-looking watch hanging on one of the room's walls. 6: 09. Getting out of bed, he walked over to the window, pulled the curtain aside slightly.