Harry Potter: From Baldur's Gate to Hogwarts

As for why Snape was replacing Professor Quirrell to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts, there were plenty of rumors circulating among the young wizards. Some said that, like the previous professor, Quirrell had been attacked by one of the dangerous creatures in the Forbidden Forest and was now recovering at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. Others whispered that Snape had poisoned Quirrell, rendering him unable to continue teaching. Some believed that the infamous curse on the Defense Against the Dark Arts position had finally struck again. And there were even those who claimed Quirrell had fallen under the influence of dark wizards, ventured into the dangerous corridor on the fourth floor, and perished there.

However, despite their curiosity about Quirrell's fate, the students had a far more pressing concern at the moment.

Final exams had arrived.

Harry, too, was suffering under the weight of the exams.

Even though he was now capable of besting most professors in a duel, he still found himself feeling immense pressure whenever a professor lingered near him for too long during an exam—especially during Potions and Defense Against the Dark Arts. (Merlin knows why Snape was willing to double his workload just to replace Quirrell as the Defense professor.)

June's weather had already turned hot, and with so many students packed into one classroom, the heat became almost unbearable.

The last exam was History of Magic. Harry held the specially enchanted anti-cheating quill that had been distributed for the test, staring at the final short-answer question on the parchment. As he recalled the key points from Hermione's meticulous notes, he hesitantly wrote down the definition and historical significance of the Goblin Rebellions.

Sitting diagonally across from Harry, Ron was furiously scratching his head, utterly lost.

In truth, Ron wasn't the only one in distress—most students were struggling. Professor Binns' legendary ability to lull people into a trance-like sleep had left many unable to retain much of his lessons, forcing them to cram the entire first-year syllabus on their own in the past two weeks.

Finally, the bell signaling the end of the exams rang. Students stood up, looking as though they had just barely survived a catastrophe, and began filing out of the classroom one by one.

"The History of Magic exam was much easier than I expected!" Hermione said cheerfully as she, Harry, and Ron stepped out onto the castle lawn, enjoying the fresh air and June sunshine.

"I still don't think I answered the question on self-stirring cauldrons thoroughly enough," Hermione fretted, pulling out her notes from her bag and pointing at various sections. "Look here, here, and here—I missed all three of these key points! Professor Binns is definitely going to deduct marks!"

"Oh, come on, Hermione! We just finished our exams! Can't we take a break from anything related to studying? I swear, I'm going to be sick if I hear another word about tests!" Ron groaned in protest.

At this moment, Ron wanted nothing more than to enjoy his newfound freedom. At least for the next week before the results came out, he intended to make up for the lost fun of the past two months. As for what would happen once the grades were announced? That was a problem for future Ron.

Unlike Hermione's anxiety and Ron's relief, Harry was in an exceptionally good mood. He was already planning his summer—

Not a miserable one spent under the watchful eyes of the Dursleys, but a summer entirely of his own choosing, free from their disdain!

And most importantly, Dumbledore had told him that the house he had lived in as a baby still stood.

When Harry first heard the news, his emotions were complicated, but above all, he was happy. After two decades of drifting between two worlds, Harry Potter finally had a place he could truly call home.

The day after returning from the Forbidden Forest, Professor Dumbledore had sat Harry down for a long and honest conversation.

First, they had dueled in earnest deep within the Forbidden Forest.

Then, sitting in the middle of a scorched battlefield, freshly changed into clean robes, they discussed everything—from the prophecy that declared, "neither can live while the other survives," to his mother Lily Evans' ancient and powerful sacrificial magic, to the reasons why he had been left with the Dursleys. They talked for a long time.

"You know, Harry, in my original plan, a conversation like this wasn't supposed to happen for another three or four years," Dumbledore sighed as they walked back to the castle, watching Harry practically glowing with excitement.

"So, how does it feel to lose control of your grand plan, Professor Dumbledore?"

Dumbledore pondered the question for a moment before smiling. "Seeing the next generation break free of my influence—it feels better than I expected. But, to be honest, Harry, what surprised me most was how well you adapted to student life. I thought someone who had spent so many years adventuring in another world would struggle to fit in."

"It was a bit of an adjustment at first, but, Professor..." Harry grinned. "When you have a group of first-year friends, even a professor like you might start feeling young again."

--

The End-of-Year Feast arrived as scheduled. Seated at the Gryffindor table, Harry noticed that up at the staff table, Professor Flitwick was barely able to suppress his wide grin while engaging in a rather intense conversation with an absolutely livid-looking Professor Snape.

"Another year has passed!" Before the feast officially began, Dumbledore stood and spread his arms wide, smiling warmly at the students. "I know that many of you have heard various rumors regarding your Defense Against the Dark Arts professor and Potions professor. Here, I must solemnly inform you all—one of those rumors is indeed true."

Excited murmurs spread through the students like wildfire.

"According to my investigation, Professor Quirrell was, in fact, under the influence of dark wizards." Dumbledore's voice rang out, and the hall immediately fell silent. "Not only did he attempt to steal a priceless alchemical artifact from the fourth-floor corridor, but he also injured our Hogwarts gamekeeper. Therefore, as Headmaster of Hogwarts, I hereby revoke the teaching position of Death Eater Quirinus Quirrell."

Gasps filled the Great Hall. When Dumbledore uttered the words "Death Eater," some students even looked downright terrified.

"Additionally—" Dumbledore raised his wand to his throat, amplifying his voice several times over. The resounding echo of his words quickly silenced the rising panic in the hall.

"The fourth-floor corridor has been transformed into a series of challenges, designed by myself and several professors. We welcome all young witches and wizards below third year to give it a try. And if anyone successfully clears all the obstacles we've set, they will automatically receive full marks on all their core subjects' final exams—except for History of Magic!"

The Great Hall erupted as the first-year students exploded with excitement.

It wasn't until the enthusiasm gradually died down that Dumbledore clapped his hands, signaling for silence.

"Aside from these two announcements, I have one more matter to share with you. After much discussion among the professors, Hogwarts has decided to establish a new academy. I believe many of you already have some idea of what this new academy is about, but I will reiterate: the newly established Academy of Sciences will be open to all Hogwarts students. Every weekend, those who choose to enroll will have the opportunity to study, explore, and strive to master advanced Muggle science and technology. Of course, participation is entirely voluntary. Your Heads of House will distribute consent forms for your guardians to sign. If you're interested, you may take this holiday to familiarize yourselves with Muggle scientific advancements."

This time, the students had little reaction—though that wasn't entirely accurate. As soon as Dumbledore finished speaking, Harry distinctly heard a few mocking chuckles from the Slytherin table.

"Now then, as I understand it, we must first proceed with the House Cup awarding ceremony," Dumbledore continued. "The final scores for each house are as follows: In fourth place, Slytherin, with one hundred and eleven points; in third place, Gryffindor, with one hundred and seventy-three points; in second place, Hufflepuff, with three hundred and fifty-two points; and in first place—Ravenclaw, with four hundred and thirty-six points!"

A deafening cheer erupted from the Ravenclaw table. The students—mostly witches—hugged each other in excitement, celebrating their victory.

With a grand sweep of his wand, Dumbledore transformed the Great Hall's decorations into Ravenclaw's silver and blue. Behind the faculty table, a massive banner bearing the image of an eagle unfurled and fluttered in the air.

The next day, exam results were posted. As expected, Hermione achieved full marks across all subjects, securing the top spot in their year with ease. Harry also scored full marks—except for History of Magic, where he only managed an E.

What truly surprised everyone, however, was the performance of Ron, Seamus, Dean, and even Neville—yes, even Neville—who all astonishingly received a perfect 'O' in both Transfiguration and Charms.

Ron was over the moon. He spent the entire day waving his report card in front of Fred and George Weasley, reveling in his achievement.

Of course, the Weasley twins weren't about to let Ron gloat for too long.

That evening, Ron was found in the boys' dormitory—dangling from the ceiling, tightly bound in magical ropes.

Suddenly, it seemed as if their wardrobes had been emptied, their trunks packed to the brim with belongings. With some help from a kind soul, Neville even managed to find his pet toad, Trevor, hiding in the corner of the washroom.

Then, clutching their end-of-term notices—which sternly reminded them not to use magic during the holidays—the students left the castle.

As they followed Hagrid down the steps toward the docks, Harry glanced back at Hogwarts and noticed the older students crossing the stone bridge above the docks, seated in carriages pulled by skeletal, winged horses.

Just like when they had first arrived, the first-years boarded small boats, four to a vessel, and crossed the lake to the train station below the platform.

Harry, Hermione, and Ron found an empty compartment at the rear of the train.

Amid laughter and conversation, they watched as the scenery outside the window gradually changed—from dense forest to open fields, from rolling countryside to distant towns appearing and vanishing on the horizon. The bright sky slowly darkened into twilight.

Finally, as the train conductor made his rounds, the young witches and wizards—now dressed in their Muggle attire—stepped off the train. Under the watchful eyes of a few adult wizards, they left Platform Nine and Three-Quarters in groups of two or three.

"You two have to come to my house this summer!" Ron insisted, looking at Hermione and Harry before they parted ways. "I'll send an owl as soon as I get back."

Harry watched as Ron and Hermione disappeared into the crowd, each greeted by their waiting families. Then, following Dumbledore's instructions, he dragged his trunk to the edge of the road and extended his wand.

With a thunderous BANG, a three-story, violently purple bus materialized from thin air, screeching to a halt in front of him.

Emblazoned across its windshield in bold golden letters were the words: "The Knight Bus."

With a loud clatter, the doors swung open, and a lanky, pimply-faced young conductor of about seventeen or eighteen stepped out, his large ears flapping slightly as he extended a hand toward Harry.

"Welcome to the Knight Bus, emergency transport for stranded witches and wizards. Just stick out your wand and hop aboard, and we'll take you wherever you want to go. My name's Stan Shunpike, and I'll be your conductor tonight—"

Stan's voice trailed off as his mouth dropped open, his eyes locked onto the lightning-shaped scar partially hidden beneath Harry's unruly hair.

"Blimey, is that—?"

"Oh, you mean this?" Harry touched the scar on his forehead. "Professor Dumbledore said it was left by Voldemort when he tried to curse me— Uh, are you alright?"

Harry glanced at Stan, who had gone weak at the knees and nearly collapsed onto the pavement.

"I-I'm fine," Stan stammered, gripping the side of the bus for support and forcing a nervous grin. "Just… wasn't expecting to hear You-Know-Who's name all of a sudden. So, uh… The famous Harry Potter—where to?"

"Godric's Hollow. How much?"

"Twelve silver Sickles," Stan replied. "But for fifteen, you get some hot chocolate. Sixteen gets you a hot water bottle and a toothbrush—any color you like."

Harry counted out twelve Sickles and handed them over. Together, he and Stan heaved Harry's trunk and Hedwig's cage onto the bus.

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