Lunchtime arrived quickly.
Perhaps due to the "scare-tactic education" from the upperclassmen the night before, Ravenclaw's first-years showed up to the dining hall in far greater numbers and much more promptly than those from other houses.
During this time, Andrew finally found his dormmates and exchanged introductions with them. But as for each other's personalities and temperaments, that would only become clear over time as they got to know one another.
"Let's just hope none of them are into peeping… Otherwise, submitting future drafts will be a serious problem..."
Andrew even considered turning to magic for help—but unfortunately, as a first-year, he was far from being able to learn spells at will.
While he was casually chatting with his four roommates, a senior student approached.
"Taylor, first period after lunch—third floor, fifth classroom to the left of the spiral staircase. Group meeting."
As Andrew received the message, two of his dormmates were also approached by other group representatives. The remaining two, however, weren't approached at all by the end of lunch.
"No idea if they were rejected in the group selection or if they simply decided not to take sides."
Obviously, he wasn't about to spoil the mood by asking. After a quick farewell post-meal, he headed off to the afternoon's lessons.
By then, the seating arrangements in class had clearly shifted—unlike the morning where everyone randomly chose seats, now most people sat with others from their respective groups. The remaining students seemed to have grouped up roughly according to dorm assignment.
"That's… surprisingly divisive."
The first afternoon class was Transfiguration, and Professor McGonagall's teaching was just as impressive as Professor Flitwick's. Her demonstration of animal transfiguration completely distracted Andrew from his earlier concerns about inner-house division.
Perhaps because he'd done enough prep in advance, Andrew managed to earn five points for Ravenclaw—though aside from that, the class held little else for him.
Professor McGonagall broke down every single concept point-by-point, which was incredibly thorough—great for ensuring students understood, but for Andrew, who had already self-studied much of the material, it felt pretty routine.
"I'll need to be thicker-skinned—start asking the professor more advanced questions after class."
Feigning rapt attention, Andrew mentally prioritized transfiguration in his self-study schedule.
Right after class, he grabbed his bag and shamelessly followed after Professor McGonagall, bombarding her with questions he'd collected during the holidays.
As he expected, she answered them almost instantly without hesitation. Even the warnings he had anticipated didn't come.
"You've clearly given these topics some thought, Mr. Taylor," Professor McGonagall said, giving a small nod after confirming he had no more questions. "In that case, I suggest you borrow these two books from the library."
Her quill floated up on its own, writing down two titles on a blank sheet of parchment.
"Read the first two chapters of this one, and one chapter of the other. Then submit a short paper on each—soon."
"Yes, Professor."
Andrew smiled as he took the parchment.
He immediately rushed off toward the third floor and just managed to make it to the designated classroom in time.
About ten minutes later, a senior student walked in.
"First-years—good. Come with me."
He looked around at the new students, nodded once, and turned to lead the way.
Andrew and the others exchanged glances and followed.
They soon arrived at a larger classroom, where two older students were already seated with a locked trunk.
"Were you expecting something?" said the student on the right, looking at them with disdain as the group filed in.
"Don't tell me you thought last night was the end of it? That just because you've made it through that, you're ready to daydream about working for the Ministry of Magic?"
"Do you have any idea what we went through to be chosen?"
"The Ministry hires only a limited number of people each year. Do you seriously think just waiting around with starry eyes is going to land you a job?"
"Don't be stupid. Sure, people from the same society or club get priority, but think about it—you think it'll be you? When half of pure-blood society is already competing for it?"
"Mic, you're talking too much," muttered the student on the left, clearly irritated.
"We don't have ties to the Ministry, nor are we here on behalf of any society. We're just offering you something that might help you get by at school."
"This is a fair trade. Every item here is worth its price."
As he spoke, he opened the trunk.
It didn't contain much—three or four notebooks, a thick stack of documents, a large bottle of potion, and a box of Exploding Snap cards (though Andrew didn't recognize the exact brand, he could roughly guess what they were).
"Each item has its price," he said. "These are tools to help you through school. Everything is clearly labeled. If you want something, just take out your Galleons."
He crossed his hands and placed them on the table.
"So… anyone interested?"
"What the hell?"
Andrew scanned the room, keeping his expression neutral.
"Scammers targeting first-years now?"
"So that whole panic yesterday… was just to set us up for this?"
"Wait, this is way too elaborate just for a scam. They even created a seemingly fair system. What kind of con artists go through this much trouble?"
Thanks to the internet, Andrew's knowledge of scams was easily thirty years ahead of anything happening here—what he saw before him felt like a joke.
"No matter the motive, I can't just call them out directly. Even if they're scammers, they're scammers with wands. I might handle one, but not this many."
"Excuse me," Andrew spoke up, "if I were to pay more Galleons, would that earn me more… friendship?"
"There is no friendship, sir. This is just an ordinary transaction."
"What if I really loved one of the items—was willing to pay a high price for it?"
"Well, naturally..."
"I'd need to retrieve my money from the common room—my trunk's there."
"Of course."
"Idiots."
He cursed silently, then turned and sprinted out.
"I'll be right back!" he called.
Once he reached the corridor, he immediately turned toward the stairs, planning to circle around to the room he'd originally been told to go to—so he could report them to a professor.
And sure enough—when he found that classroom, the supervising student was still fuming.
"Ravenclaws… It's already the end of the first day, and you're still getting lost?"