Dumbledore continued speaking enthusiastically about various school rules and regulations.
Unfortunately, Logan quickly realised something horrifying.
The old man suffered from the exact same disease as school administrators from his previous life.
You know the type.
"I'll only say a few quick words."
Then somehow an hour disappeared.
Logan had once stood on a school playground under the blazing sun listening to speeches like that until his soul nearly ascended from his body.
And now history repeated itself.
Without even noticing, Logan mentally tuned out most of Dumbledore's endless rambling completely.
Only one sentence managed to drag him back into reality.
"Before we all head to bed," Dumbledore announced cheerfully, "let us sing the school song together!"
Instantly, the atmosphere in the Great Hall changed.
Especially among the older students.
Several of them displayed expressions resembling condemned prisoners awaiting execution.
Then Logan understood.
A moment later, the Great Hall erupted into auditory terrorism.
"Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts—"
The melody was catastrophic.
The rhythm barely existed.
Some students sang entirely off-key while others seemed determined to invent new musical scales through violence alone.
The combined result sounded less like singing and more like a mass supernatural attack.
Honestly, if Voldemort were present right now, even he would probably flee in fear.
That thought suddenly reminded Logan of something important.
Professor Quirrell.
Technically speaking, during this year Voldemort should still be attached to Quirrell's head like some horrifying magical parasite.
Which meant—
The Dark Lord was probably listening to this disaster right now.
Logan suddenly felt strangely sympathetic toward him.
....
"Gryffindors, follow me please!"
"Watch the staircases carefully—they move."
"Ravenclaws, this way."
The first-year students quickly separated into groups before being led through Hogwarts Castle by older prefects.
Logan observed everything around him with fascination.
Talking portraits.
Shifting staircases.
Ancient corridors lit by floating torches.
Ghosts drifting silently through walls.
Compared to films, reality felt infinitely more vivid and magical.
Eventually, the Gryffindor students stopped before a large portrait of an extremely plump woman wearing pink silk clothing.
Logan found her oddly comforting.
The Fat Lady looked down at the students critically.
"Password?"
The older student answered immediately.
"Dragon dung."
The Fat Lady nodded approvingly before swinging her portrait open like a door.
A hidden passage appeared behind it instantly.
Several first-years gasped in amazement.
Harry practically had wonder written across his entire face.
After climbing through the entrance, the students entered the Gryffindor common room.
Warm firelight illuminated an enormous circular lounge filled with soft chairs, old wooden tables, and rich crimson decorations. The atmosphere felt lively and welcoming.
The older students quickly explained the dormitory arrangements.
Girls upstairs one side.
Boys upstairs the other.
Five students per dormitory.
Simple.
Logan's dormitory assignment turned out to be:
Harry Potter.
Ron Weasley.
Neville Longbottom.
And one other quiet boy.
Logan stared silently at the room arrangement for several seconds.
Fate truly worked in mysterious ways.
For one horrifying moment, Logan even wondered whether Dumbledore deliberately placed him here intentionally.
Was the old man trying to upgrade the original trio into some terrifying quadrilateral formation?
The thought alone made Logan shudder.
No.
Impossible.
That was definitely overthinking.
Meanwhile, Harry and Ron looked delighted by the arrangement.
To them, Logan was already considered a close friend.
Within minutes, the three boys gathered around Logan's bed and immediately launched into chaotic conversation about their past lives, families, and expectations for Hogwarts.
Logan looked at the overly familiar atmosphere with a complicated expression.
There was absolutely no awkwardness.
No restraint.
These children simply accepted people absurdly quickly.
Honestly, what exactly was he supposed to do?
Scold them?
Spank them?
Then Logan remembered a famous saying from Garfield:
"If you can't defeat the enemy, join them."
Thus, Logan surrendered to the conversation.
Eventually, after enough pointless arguments and random discussions, everyone returned to their own beds.
The dormitory gradually fell quiet.
Lying in bed beneath heavy curtains, Logan stared thoughtfully at the ceiling.
Although arriving at Hogwarts genuinely excited him, he had never forgotten his real objective.
Legendary Points.
Everything ultimately returned to Legendary Points.
Without them, he could not create stronger forbidden spells.
Without stronger spells, he could not protect himself against Nyarlathotep someday.
The stronger the spell, the more Legendary Points required.
And so far, the only reliable source of points seemed to be system missions.
Still, Logan already possessed several ideas for future spell creations.
After completing Solar Flash, he intended to begin constructing something even more dangerous.
However, before attempting that, he needed more foundational knowledge first.
Learn additional spells.
Expand magical understanding.
Reduce future spell creation costs through integration and optimisation.
If everything progressed smoothly…
Then his next custom spell might become the first true forbidden spell he created in this world.
The thought filled him with excitement.
Eventually, carrying mixed emotions of anticipation and unease, Logan slowly drifted to sleep.
....
Early the next morning, Logan opened his eyes instantly.
Years of disciplined studying habits from summer holiday remained deeply ingrained already.
Remembering that classes officially began today, he immediately sat upright, changed clothes, and tidied himself properly.
Then he glanced toward the surrounding beds.
Ron remained unconscious like a corpse.
Harry looked barely more alive.
With a sigh, Logan walked over and shook them awake.
"Get up."
Ron sat upright immediately with dead eyes.
Then several seconds later, reality struck him violently.
"Oh Merlin—we've got class!"
Panic exploded instantly.
Ron lunged toward Harry's bed and began shaking him aggressively.
"Harry! Wake up! We're late! We're dead!"
Fortunately, Logan calmly explained that nobody was actually late yet. He had simply woken them earlier to avoid disaster.
He genuinely did not want the dormitory transformed into a travelling circus at sunrise.
Thanks to Logan's excellent sense of timing, the three boys managed to navigate Hogwarts at a leisurely pace despite repeatedly getting lost due to the constantly changing staircases.
By the time they reached the classroom area, Harry felt deeply grateful.
Without Logan waking them early, he and Ron definitely would have arrived late on the first day.
Not many students had arrived yet.
Apparently, numerous first-years still remained trapped in mortal combat against their blankets.
Logan quickly noticed Hermione already sitting proudly near the front row.
He could not help admiring her discipline slightly.
What a terrifyingly hardworking little witch.
Though beneath that studious appearance definitely hid dangerous levels of recklessness.
Ron puffed his chest proudly.
"See?" he announced confidently. "I told you brilliant students like us wouldn't be late."
He grinned.
"If we actually knew where the classroom was, we probably would've been first here."
Then suddenly Ron's attention shifted elsewhere.
"Oi, Harry," he whispered loudly. "Look at that cat on the podium."
Logan glanced over.
A tabby cat sat calmly atop the professor's desk.
Its eyes looked unusually sharp and intelligent.
Ron visibly shuddered.
"Blimey, I hate cats," he muttered. "And that one looks especially creepy. Honestly, I kinda want to kick it…"
As he spoke, Ron slowly began walking toward the cat.
.....
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