The Hogwarts Express pulled away from Hogsmeade with a soft whistle, trailing a cloud of white steam that mingled with the light snow falling over the Scottish countryside.
Unlike in September—when the train was a chaos of laughter, jumping frogs, sweets with minds of their own, and shrieking children—it now moved with a warm, weary calm. Students, exhausted from months of classes, exams, and homework, slept in their compartments, wrapped in blankets and dreams of holidays.
In one of the last carriages, Nathael and Celestia had a compartment to themselves.
Nathael sat by the window, watching the snowy landscape drift by like a slow dream. Celestia, across from him, was elegantly curled up, paws tucked beneath her body, eyes half-closed.
"The view is beautiful," she said, yawning. "Perfect for a nap."
She shifted, searching for the most comfortable position.
Just then, the compartment door slid open.
It was Draco Malfoy.
He no longer wore his Hogwarts uniform. Now he wore a white linen shirt, open at the collar, crisp black trousers, and fine leather fingerless gloves.
Celestia opened one eye.
"Now you're copying Nathael's bad fashion sense?"
Draco smiled, unoffended.
"I learn from the best."
Nathael chuckled and gestured to the empty seat.
"Come in, Draco. Sit."
Draco entered and closed the door behind him.
"Thank you."
"There's nothing wrong with that outfit," Nathael told Celestia. "It's elegant. Practical. And doesn't draw attention."
"That's the worst part," Celestia said. "A treasure hunter should draw attention. Well… at least a little."
Nathael ignored the comment and turned to Draco.
"In three days, I'll be at your manor for dinner with your family."
"My father is eager," Draco said.
"In the meantime," Nathael added, "I'll go see my mother. The family."
Draco, curious, was about to ask more—when the door opened again.
It was Hermione Granger.
She wore Muggle clothes: a red sweater, jeans, and a thick scarf. A backpack hung from her shoulder, and she looked relieved to see them.
"Can I stay here?" she asked. "Seamus, Neville, and Dean started hexing sweets at each other, and there's no peace in my compartment."
"Of course," Nathael said without hesitation.
Hermione sat beside Celestia, who shifted slightly, with dignity.
Draco regained his composure.
"Hey… Nathael. What's your family like?"
He paused.
"My father says you're numerous. Mysterious. And that hiring a Grauheim to hunt a treasure costs thousands of Galleons."
Hermione looked at him, surprised.
"I've never read anything about the Grauheims in books. Aren't you a famous family?"
Nathael gazed out the window. The sun was setting, painting the sky gold and purple.
"We're numerous, yes.
And yes, we're expensive.
But we're not… famous."
He paused.
"Though we're considered pureblood, the truth is a Grauheim can marry whomever they choose.
A Muggle.
A half-blood.
Another pureblood.
Or another Grauheim."
Draco and Hermione stared at him, astonished.
"What?" Draco said. "But… don't you believe in blood purity?"
"We believe in Grauheim blood," Nathael said. "And that blood is dominant."
Hermione frowned.
"What does that mean?"
"It means," Nathael explained, "that it doesn't matter who a Grauheim marries. If one parent is from the family… the child awakens."
"Awakens?" Hermione asked.
Celestia, who had been silent until now, opened her eyes fully.
"When a Grauheim is born, they emerge with a natural talent for ancestral magic—not learned, but innate. They can feel it. Shape it. Understand its essence… from their very first breath."
Hermione's jaw dropped.
"All of you?"
"Yes," Celestia said. "Though, as with all things, there are differences. Some—like Nathael—are born with such exceptional talent that even the elders of the family are amazed."
She then looked at Draco, who was just as stunned as Hermione.
"And don't be surprised. In the Grauheim family library, there's an 11th-century text that mentions the Malfoys.
It says they were of French origin…
and masters of sealing magic.
No one matched them—not even us."
Draco blinked.
"I never knew that. My father's never mentioned it."
"I'm not surprised," Celestia said. "Most pureblood families don't study their past. They only care about maintaining their status in today's magical world."
Silence fell.
The train rolled on.
The sky darkened.
And the two young people—from enemy houses—processed what they'd just heard.
Hermione, curiosity renewed, looked at Celestia.
"Are there… other cats like you in the Grauheim family?"
Celestia hesitated.
She glanced at Nathael, who gave a slight nod.
"What I'm about to tell you is confidential," Celestia said. "But… I trust you."
She straightened.
"The Grauheim family is divided into two branches: the secondary and the main."
"All members are born with talent for ancestral magic. But, as I mentioned, not all are equal. Some—like Nathael—possess power that is… exceptional."
She paused.
"And this is evident at birth."
"How?" Draco asked.
"When a member of the main branch is born, a cat of the ancestral line is born too. Like me.
White. Sapphire-blue eyes. Capable of speech, reason, and a bond with their human that goes beyond loyalty."
"It's a soul bond," Nathael said softly. "If one is unwell… the other feels it. If one is in danger… the other knows. And with training… we can even share magic."
Hermione was fascinated.
"So… you're like… siblings."
"More than that," Celestia said. "We are one."
"That's why," she continued, "the main branch makes the family's decisions. They carry the purest, oldest lineage. And when you mentioned hiring a Grauheim—those jobs are usually accepted by the secondary branch. The main branch rarely takes commissions… unless it's a special case."
She looked at Draco.
"And though we'd rather not admit it… we share some similarities with today's pureblood families."
"Like what?" Hermione asked.
"We rarely marry outsiders," Celestia said. "The main branch typically pairs with the secondary branch… or with another of the main branch. Never with a stranger."
"Not out of purity," Nathael clarified, "but for protection. Because if someone outside the family discovers our secrets… they could use them against us."
Silence returned.
The train was now entering the London suburbs. City lights shimmered in the distance.
"We're here," Hermione said, looking out the window.
She stood.
"Thank you for letting me stay."
"You're welcome," Nathael said.
Draco also rose.
"I'll see you at the dinner," he told Nathael.
"Of course," Nathael replied.
Hermione and Draco exchanged a nod and left the compartment.
Nathael and Celestia remained alone for a moment.
"Ready to see my mother—and yours?" Nathael asked.
"Always," Celestia said. "Though I hope this time she doesn't give me another lecture about 'the responsibility of being a main-branch companion.'"
Nathael laughed.
"That's what happens when you lose the Tournament."
They stood.
And as the train came to a halt at King's Cross Station, Nathael and Celestia gathered their things.