The sky outside had darkened, and the Hogwarts Express began to slow down, its rhythmic chugging growing more lethargic as it neared the final destination. Inside the compartment, Cassandra leaned over the table and lightly tapped Cassian Drayke on the shoulder, waking him from a much-needed nap.
"Cassian, wake up. We're here."
Cassian blinked groggily, straightened up, and stretched. The nap had done little to rid the tension from his shoulders, but it helped clear his mind for what came next. A few moments later, the train screeched to a halt, and steam hissed through the corridor.
As Cassandra and Cassian exited their compartment and stepped into the aisle, an unusual hush swept through the surrounding students. Those who had been rushing to get off the train suddenly backed away, retreating into their compartments to make way. Eyes darted between Cassian and Cassandra, filled with a mixture of fear and awe.
After all, the memory of a third-year student getting hexed half-naked by Cassandra—and walking around with his shirt stuffed where his trousers used to be—was still fresh. No one wanted to risk a repeat performance.
Like a queen making her grand procession, Cassandra strode confidently off the train with Cassian at her side, unimpeded. At the platform, a towering figure with a lantern awaited them.
"Welcome to Hogwarts—eh? Only two first-years this year?" Hagrid frowned, scratching his wild beard as he squinted into the foggy darkness.
Because of Cassandra's presence, only a few students near the doors had dared to step off first. The rest stayed in their compartments, unsure whether it was safe.
"They're behind us," Cassian explained simply.
"Ah, right. Well, wait here a moment."
Hagrid turned and poked his massive head into the train carriage.
"Alright, first-years! Don't be shy, come out! We haven't got all evening!"
Hearing Hagrid's unmistakable voice, the other students finally dared to leave the train. But they hadn't taken more than a few steps before Hagrid let out a low, disgruntled growl.
"Who set this lad's trousers on fire?!"
Trailing behind Hagrid were Panessa and the disheveled third-year boy who had attacked Cassandra earlier. Panessa was crying dramatically, and the older boy pointed accusingly at Cassandra, his face twisted in exaggerated offense.
Cassian watched with a mix of irritation and detachment. Of course they'd gone running to the adult first.
Hagrid furrowed his brow at Cassandra. "You? You did this?"
He sounded genuinely confused. Someone like Cassandra—who looked like she had stepped out of a pure-blood family portrait—didn't seem like the type to commit magical assault before even being Sorted.
"Yes, it was me," Cassandra admitted without hesitation. "Would you like me to do it again, just to demonstrate?"
Cassian couldn't help but let a smirk tug at the corner of his lips.
Hagrid's eyes widened. "You haven't even been Sorted yet! Duels are strictly against the rules for first-years. Do you realize how serious this is?"
"Oh, but you're not going to ask why it happened?" Cassandra lifted her chin. "After I defeated Panessa in a formal duel, that boy attacked me from behind with a Blasting Curse. I defended myself—burning his pants was me being merciful."
Cassian nodded slightly. That checked out.
Hagrid turned to the other students. "Is that true?"
He hadn't noticed the third-year boy glaring darkly at the crowd, silently warning anyone against speaking up.
But just as the silence stretched awkwardly, a firm voice spoke up from among them.
"It is true. The third-year attacked her with a Blasting Curse after she won. She blocked it with a Shield Charm. My name's Hermione Granger. I'm willing to vouch for that."
Hermione, the girl who had earlier extinguished the flames on the boy's trousers, stepped forward with calm determination. Cassian noted the subtle shift in the third-year's expression—his shock and anger now focused on Hermione.
"You'll all need to speak with the Headmaster later," Hagrid grumbled, scratching his head. "But we're late already. On the boats, everyone!"
The students began heading toward the small boats waiting near the lake.
"See that girl?" Cassandra leaned in and whispered to Cassian. "Chestnut hair, clever look? She's Gryffindor material if I've ever seen it."
"Thank you for the compliment," Hermione said with a polite smile, having clearly overheard.
"I wasn't complimenting you," Cassandra snapped.
"It still counts," Hermione replied breezily.
"Tch. Let's go, Cassian. Don't talk to weirdos."
Cassandra grabbed Cassian's sleeve and tugged him toward one of the boats, her irritation palpable.
Meanwhile, elsewhere in the crowd, Draco Malfoy observed the whole affair from a safe distance, flanked by Crabbe and Goyle. His eyes narrowed slightly as he watched Cassandra and Cassian.
He remembered them both from the wand shop incident. And even now, a twinge of dread ran down his spine at the memory. If his father hadn't arrived when he did... Draco clenched his fists at the thought. He knew he wasn't strong enough to face them—yet.
But that would change. Hogwarts was a school for magic, after all. He would learn, grow stronger, and eventually repay the embarrassment with interest.
One day.
For now, though, he kept his distance.
The lantern Hagrid held swung back and forth as the small boats began to glide across the black lake. The castle loomed ahead, shrouded in mist and glowing faintly in the moonlight. It was an eerie, magical sight—one that silenced the nervous chatter of the first-years.
Cassian sat beside Cassandra, his gaze steady as the boats drew closer to Hogwarts.
"Have you heard?" came a whisper from the nearby boat. "Harry Potter is starting this year too."
"No way. The Harry Potter?"
"Who's Harry Potter?" Cassian asked Cassandra.
She gave him a surprised look. "You really don't know? You must've been locked away from news."
Cassian didn't respond to that.
"Well," Cassandra continued, "When you were born, it was still the era of You-Know-Who. Death Eaters ran rampant, and no one knew if they'd live to see tomorrow. Then, one day, he went to kill a baby—Harry Potter—and vanished."
"I don't believe a baby could kill the Dark Lord," Cassian said quietly.
"Me neither," Cassandra replied. "Sounds like propaganda."
Cassian silently agreed. He had spent years among Death Eaters. He'd heard their praise of Voldemort's power and cruelty. The idea that a mere infant had defeated such a wizard seemed laughable.
That didn't mean Voldemort was gone.
But Cassian wasn't afraid. He had survived Azkaban. Voldemort was merely... another wizard to study. One day, maybe, to surpass.
The boats bumped softly against the stone shore. The students stepped out, and Hagrid led them up the path to the castle. Waiting at the great doors stood a stern woman in emerald green robes.
"Professor McGonagall," Cassandra muttered under her breath.
Cassian didn't know her yet, but he could already sense her presence was no less intimidating than a Death Eater's—just in a very different way.
"Welcome to Hogwarts," McGonagall said crisply. "You are about to be Sorted into your Houses. But first, follow me."
As the students filed in behind her, Cassian straightened his shoulders and fell into step beside Cassandra.
The Sorting was next. And Cassian Drayke knew exactly where he was going.
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