By Violette Twiggs, 5th year Ravenclaw , your brutally honest savior
So ! You’re eleven, you’ve just been yanked from your perfectly ordinary muggle or wizard life, and now you think you’re about to live in a magical palace where fairies braid your hair and unicorns tuck you into bed. Adorable. Really. Unfortunately, you are about to discover that Hogwarts is less “sparkly wonderland” and more “death trap with homework.”
Lucky for you, I, Violette Twiggs, have decided to write this first year survival guide. Not because I care about you personally (I don’t know you all yet), but because I enjoy watching disasters unfold and would like to minimize the boredom by giving you a fighting chance. Think of this article as a seatbelt on the world’s most unhinged broomstick ride. You’re welcome for the reality check.
Welcome to Hogwarts, where the staircases move when they feel like it, the portraits gossip more than your grandmother, and the teachers range from terrifying geniuses to mysterious creatures who may or may not have once been part-troll (No, i won’t give names, i have a survival instinct).
If you want to survive your first year without losing your wand, your sanity, or your eyebrows (long story, involves a cauldron), then buckle up. I am here to save you. Or at least laugh when you ignore this and blow something up.
Let’s get to the essentials.
The Sorting Hat Knows Your Secrets
I saw at least three of you shaking like frightened pixies before the ceremony. One kid was muttering, “Please not Slytherin, please not Slytherin” like it was a horror chant. Sweetie, the Hat heard you. It hears everything. Your secret crush? Your guilty habit of licking Bertie Bott’s beans before eating them? Yes. It knows. It is ancient, has listened to centuries of whiny eleven year olds, and frankly I wonder how it even has any patience left. You cannot hide anything. Pro tip: don’t argue with it, because the Hat loves stubborn brats. Spoiler: you’ll end up exactly where you belong. Yes, even if it’s the house you swore you’d never be in. Gryffindor, Slytherin, Hufflepuff, or Ravenclaw, you will find a way to survive. Unless you are planning to be unbearable about it, in which case no one will help you.
Staircases are Evil
The staircases will betray you. They will change direction at the exact moment you’re running late. They will drop you in front of a locked door and cackle silently while you panic. Sometimes, they’ll take you somewhere you didn’t even know existed, which sounds cool until you realize you’re now in a corridor where the suits of armor gossip about you. I watched a boy from Hufflepuff confidently climb a staircase only for it to swing away mid-step. He hung there like a terrified bat until a ghost floated by and laughed in his face. Don’t be that boy. The staircases hate confidence. Do not fight the staircases. Do not yell at the staircases. They feed on your suffering. Just… build in ten minutes of “staircase betrayal” time before every class. You’ll thank me later. Always have a backup route, and if you see a staircase shiver, step back immediately. It is plotting against you.
Jeeves is funny only until he decides you’re a target.
Ah, Jeeves. Our local poltergeist menace. If you laugh at his pranks, he’ll adore you. At first, you’ll think Jeeves is “hilarious.” He throws chalk at professors. He dumps ink on Gryffindors. Ha-ha. Wait until he glues your homework to the ceiling or ties your shoelaces together mid-sprint. You’ll stop laughing. The teachers pretend they hate him, but deep down, they secretly enjoy the chaos because it keeps us humble. My advice? When you hear maniacal laughter and see no one there, run.
Ghosts Aren’t Just Decoration
Nearly Headless Nick will probably try to impress you with his almost-headlessness. The Bloody Baron will make you want to cry. The Grey Lady will ignore you unless you have a library-level question. The Fat Friar will at least smile. Remember: ghosts know the castle better than anyone. They float through walls, yes. They moan dramatically, sure. But they also see everything. Everything. They know shortcuts. They know secrets. They love gossip. I would too if I had an eternity to fill with stuff to do. But if you ask them for shortcuts to class, you might end up in the kitchen by mistake. Which is not actually a tragedy, but still, you will be late.
Classes aren’t a joke, and Potions Class is Not Cooking
You are not going to be coloring pictures of cauldrons. You will be brewing actual potions that might melt through the table. You will wave your wand, say the wrong word, and accidentally turn your partner’s nose into a pig snout. Professors will not pat your head and say “good effort.” They will give you homework that could fill a small library, or worse detention if you misbehave. Pretend to care. Pretend hard. Then make friends with the smart kids in your class because you will need them. Do not stroll into class thinking you’re on a magical version of Bake Off when going to potions. One slip of powdered root, one stir in the wrong direction, and congratulations, you’ve created a toxic gas cloud. I saw a Gryffindor stir his cauldron the wrong way and ending up with eyebrows so singed he looks perpetually surprised. Listen closely to instructions, follow them and do as told. Else you may end up dangling from thin air like those poor three firsties the other day in Dark arts ! Do not touch anything unless expressly told you can, and Never ever eat anything from Vikander or Grimstone’s class, no matter how hungry you are or how yummy it looks.
The Forbidden Forest is Actually Forbidden
Some of you already think you’re brave little heroes. “Let’s sneak into the Forbidden Forest!” You will be dared to go in. You will be curious about what’s lurking in the shadows. You will think, “it can’t be that bad.” Wrong. Inside are spiders bigger than your bed, centaurs who do not like your existence, and things that even Professor Bane won’t cuddle. Inside are creatures that would happily snack on your bony first-year limbs like breadsticks. If you go in, best-case scenario, you’re grounded for eternity. Worst-case scenario, you’re dinner. And if you survive, you’ll get detention. Double the danger, double the humiliation. Don’t be stupid.
Food is the Only Thing Keeping Us Alive
The Great Hall is heaven. I’m not kidding. If you don’t gasp at the feasts, I don’t trust you. Roast chicken, pumpkin pasties, treacle tart… this is survival fuel, not just food. Load up while you can, because by the time you’re stuck in History of Magic, you’ll need that extra pudding to stay conscious. And if you miss breakfast, you can try your luck by asking for extra snacks from Abner in the kitchens… but lately he’s been quite grumpy and you can consider yourself lucky if he decided to share a bowl of cold gruel. Always keep a spare biscuit from breakfast in your bag. Carry snacks in your robes. Biscuits are the real currency of Hogwarts.
Dorm Life is a Horror Story
First years, you have no idea what’s coming. Someone will snore so loudly the entire dorm walls rattles. Someone else will “accidentally” bring a pet that spends the night crawling into people’s beds. You will learn that blankets are sacred objects, not to be stolen or shared. You will not sleep. Someone else might talk in their sleep about dragons. Or finding yourself face to face with a rat in your bed. If you value peace, learn a Silencing Charm fast. Or embrace the chaos and join me in mocking everyone who wakes up screaming about “the rat again.” And if you hear weird noises in the corridors at midnight, respect curfews, do not investigate, stay in bed. That is how horror stories begin.
Quidditch is The Cult
If you like sports, congratulations, you are about to witness the most dangerous game in existence. If you do not like sports, congratulations, you will still be dragged to watch the games in the freezing cold. House pride will demand that you scream until your throat hurts. Learn the rules quickly so you at least understand why everyone is shouting at the Seeker. Or just cheer at random times. Yes, it’s dangerous. Yes, it’s incredible. Yes, everyone loses their minds over it. Even if you don’t understand what a Quaffle is, you’ll be expected to scream like a banshee for your house team. If you want to fit in. If you want to live. Just shout whenever everyone else does. Works every time. That’s Quidditch.
Teachers are terrifying, but fair-ish
Some are scary, some are nice, most are both depending on whether you’ve annoyed them today. Learn who despises tardiness, who secretly loves flattery, and who will roast you in front of the class for saying your charm incantation with the wrong accent. Do not… I repeat, DO NOT test them. One Slytherin in my year tried it and is probably still cleaning cauldrons in the dungeons. Spoiler: Professors might seem unapproachable, but remember, some professors will become your heroes. Others will haunt your nightmares. And it’s always better to ask a question in class if you’re not sure you understood right, than finding out you have mistaken mobillicorpus and mobilliarbus when your essay comes back with a Troll grade.
Your Wand is Not a Toy
Stop waving it like you’re conducting an orchestra. That’s how you set your own hair on fire. You think your wand is your best friend. Wrong. Your wand is a diva. Wands are picky, loyal, and slightly dramatic. It will work perfectly in class, then betray you during the one moment you actually need it. Take care of it. Don’t shove it in your bag. Don’t lend it to your mate. And don’t wave it around in the common room unless you want to explain to the Head of House why the sofa is now a goat. Treat yours with respect or you will regret it when it refuses to work during your Charms exam. A first-year without a wand is basically a muggle in a robe.
Owls are not pets, they are postal workers
Yes, they are adorable. Yes, they bring letters and snacks. No, they do not like being hugged every five minutes. If you insist on treating them like feathered stuffed animals, expect scratches. And clean up after them. The Owlery is not scented like roses for a reason.
House Points Don’t do matter
We all like to think the House cup isn’t that important and whoever wins, we all do our best, right. No one cares if you tripped down a staircase. But, despite the ‘points don’t matter speech”, everyone will care if you cost them a hundred house points for “bad behavior” repeatedly. That is social suicide. Every point matters, because at the end of the year, when the house cup is awarded, people will remember who tanked the score. Protect your points like they are your inheritance. And trust me, Hogwarts never forgets.
Hogwarts is Alive and Wants You Dead
The castle has secrets. Secret rooms, hidden staircases, statues that snicker when you walk past, weird portraits that whisper if you poke them. You will get lost. You will panic. You will probably cry in a hallway while a portrait laughs at you. Accept it. Do not touch everything you see. That random door you just opened? Yay, you’re locked in a broom cupboard with a screaming skull. Enjoy. And no, you will not “map out the whole castle” in your first year.
Make sure you get someone to show you ways, until you feel confident enough to walk out the corridors on your own.
Don’t Take Yourself Too Seriously
You’re going to make mistakes. Huge, humiliating mistakes. You’ll blow up cauldrons, fall off broomsticks, or accidentally hex yourself into having donkey ears or get locked in the broom cupboard. That’s fine. We all did. Laugh at yourself. Hogwarts thrives on embarrassment. It’s practically tradition. The people who act like they’re the next Merlin are always the ones who get stuck in the trick staircase for three hours. You will fight with your friends, prank your enemies, and probably get caught at least once by the Prefects. Accept it. The castle is alive, and so are you. Survive the madness, and you might even enjoy it.
Violette’s Final Words of wisdom (and yes, it’s fabulous)
First years, you’re basically tiny, excitable disasters in training. That’s fine. Hogwarts will chew you up, spit you out, and hand you a plate of pudding to soften the blow. Just remember: don’t die, don’t cry, and don’t get caught. Also, if you do something impressive, make sure everyone knows. Reputation is everything. And remember: if you do something stupid, at least make it legendary so the rest of us have a good story to tell.
And do not underestimate this place. Hogwarts is smarter than all of us, and it likes to keep us guessing. Follow these tips and maybe, just maybe, you will survive your first year with most of your limbs intact.
You’ll thank me in seven years when you graduate alive. Or at least mostly intact.
Good luck, fresh meat. You will need it.
Violette Twiggs
