Leo gripped the edges of the stool. "I just want to see everything," he thought.
As the heavy oak doors swung open, the scent hit him: old parchment, beeswax, and a hint of something like ozone after a thunderstorm. Professor McGonagall stood there, her expression as sharp as her spectacles. Leo gripped the edges of the stool
The search for usually brings up images of the Great Hall and mentions of ancient magic, but let’s look at a story from a different perspective—the first day of a student who doesn’t quite fit the "Chosen One" mold. the scent hit him: old parchment