The whistle of the Hogwarts Express shrieked one final time before the train ground to a halt, steam curling upward into the cold evening air.
Beyond the windows, the platform of Hogsmeade glimmered under lanternlight — gold, blue, and shadow all interwoven in the mist.
"Firs'-years! Firs'-years over here!"
The booming voice of Rubeus Hagrid echoed across the platform, followed swiftly by the bobbing light of a massive lantern.
The half-giant loomed above the sea of heads, a shaggy silhouette against the night sky, his beard glistening faintly from the drizzle that had begun to fall.
Cassius stepped out into the cool air, his boots clicking against the damp stone, the scent of pine and cold metal lingering from the steam.
Around him, the first-years poured from the train in a tide of voices — laughter, awe, and a few nervous whispers.
"Firs'-years! Over here! That's it — all of yeh, follow me!"
Hagrid's lantern swayed like a star leading a procession of the young and untested.
Hermione clutched her book bag tightly, her eyes shining with excitement.
Neville hurried beside her, nearly tripping over his own feet in the process.
Daphne moved with effortless grace, her expression neutral but alert.
Cassius followed just behind them, his stride measured, his gaze darting occasionally to the shadows beyond the lamplight.
They were led down from Hogsmede until they reached the shoreline of the Black lake, dozens of boats floating waiting for passengers.
The four quickly found there own boat together, while the others began to form up groupings of their own before the boats setoff without anyone paddling.
Hagrid along in his boat, led the pack, like a maritime invasion happening in the darkness of the encroaching night.
Within moments they were rounding a rise in the lake, sailing through a stone archway with the view becoming clear there in the distance was the ancient hallowed ground.
And the castle came into view.
It rose like something out of a forgotten dream — towers and battlements of gleaming stone, torches flickering along the ramparts, and thousands of windows glowing like stars caught in its ancient frame.
The first-years fell silent.
Even the chatter of the purebloods ceased.
For a moment, the world felt suspended — caught between past and future, between myth and memory.
Hermione clutched Neville's sleeve.
"It's— it's beautiful…" she whispered, her voice trembling with awe.
Daphne's eyes widened, unguarded wonder breaking through her practiced poise.
"I didn't think it would look like this…"
Neville nodded mutely, lips parted.
Cassius only watched, his expression unreadable.
The sight of the castle stirred something deep within him — nostalgia, perhaps, or something darker.
Hogwarts represented opportunity and danger alike.
It was where destinies were forged, but also where mistakes were memorialized forever in stone.
He leaned slightly forward, the moonlight glinting across his eyes.
So this is the stage.
But as they passed through the arch something wasnt quite right in cassius's eye.
For in the air — faint, invisible, and deliberate — he felt the tug of a spell applying itself to his person.
It brushed against his skin like static, coiling around his presence before fading into his magical core.
The Trace.
He felt it settle, seeking to bind itself to his person.
A leash, to mark every spell cast outside the Ministry's approved domains, as a means of protecting the statute of secrecy.
Cassius's lips curved into a small, almost imperceptible smile.
Not tonight.
His fingers moved with the smallest flick beneath his cloak.
A silent wave.
No light.
No sound.
Just a ripple of intent.
The magic tether burned away like cobweb in sunlight.
He felt it sever — the Ministry's surveillance charm gone in a breath.
But Cassius didn't stop there.
Another gesture, sharper, more deliberate — three soft pulses of magic extending from his palm to brush against Hermione, Neville, and Daphne in turn.
Each flickered faintly as the Trace was erased.
He could almost hear the screams of the ministry buerocrats declaring that the end was nigh uncontrolled younglings unable to be traced for their use of magic when unsupervised!
Daphne, unaware, continued chatting softly about pureblood traditions.
Hermione was looking up at the castle in wonder.
Neville was muttering anxiously about whether the boats would tip.
Cassius smiled faintly to himself.
You'll thank me later.
The air grew colder as they continued to float along across the surface of the lake towards the castle.
From the next set of boats, laughter and bickering carried faintly across the water.
Draco Malfoy's distinct drawl rose above the others.
"—honestly, Weasley, do all your family look like that, or were you cursed at birth?"
A sharp splash followed.
Cassius turned his head just in time to see Ron Weasley flailing into the dark water, red hair vanishing beneath the rippling surface.
Gasps erupted from nearby boats as Draco leaned over, smirking smugly.
"Oh, look! He found the deep end!"
Ron had obviously tried to take a swing at Draco only to stumble and pitch himself into the cold lake waters.
Before Hagrid could even shout, a sudden disturbance rippled across the lake — a massive shape moving beneath the water.
Then, rising from the depths, a tentacle surfaced — glistening, smooth, and impossibly large.
It curled gently around Ron, lifting him out of the water like a drenched doll before depositing him carefully back into his boat.
The creature's great amber eye broke the surface just long enough to blink once — as if in mild exasperation — before slipping silently back into the depths.
The entire group erupted in noise — half terrified, half awestruck.
"That—that was the Giant Squid!" Neville stammered.
"More like a Kraken," Cassius murmured under his breath, watching the ripples fade. "Intelligent one, too."
Hagrid's laugh thundered over the lake. "Aye, tha's jus' the squid sayin' hello! Yeh'll be fine, Weasley! Nothin' ta worry about, but bes not ta stand in the boat anymore!"
Ron, dripping and mortified, said nothing.
Draco's laughter faded when Hagrid gave him a look that could curdle milk, this crossing was sacred, and should be done in silent reverence.
As the commotion died down, the fleet of boats continued their steady glide across the black water, approaching the shadowed cliffside.
The students craned their necks as the boats slipped under a rocky archway — the entrance to a hidden tunnel carved through the mountain's base.
Torchlight danced across the walls, illuminating carvings etched into the stone — protective glyphs older than the castle itself.
They emerged into a small underground harbor, the water glowing faintly from phosphorescent algae that cast an eerie blue hue on the cavern walls.
Hagrid pulled his boat up first, then helped each group disembark in turn.
"This way now! Mind yer feet—stairs are a bit slippery!"
As Cassius stepped onto solid ground, he could feel a faint thrum of magic.
Not the Trace this time.
Something older.
A ward perhaps to protect students?
Or maybe an ancient layline of natural magic that the castle itself was built upon.
He glanced upward, past the jagged tunnel mouth where the first glimpse of open sky shimmered again.
As they climbed the final slope, the castle loomed closer.
The massive front doors stood open, warm light spilling from within. Professor McGonagall waited there, her posture perfect, her expression as stern as the night was long.
"Professor, the first years." Hagrid reported in before stepping away leaving the kids to the Deputy Headmistress whose piercing eyes looked them over, stopping briefly on Harry, before locking onto Cassius looking stunned for a second.
"Welcome to Hogwarts," she said, her crisp Scottish voice cutting cleanly through the chatter.
Next they were told to wait as they would be entering the great hall shortly to be sorted into their houses, how their houses would be like their family, earning points for success or losing them for any rulebreaking.
Those houses were Griffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin.
She then briefly left to check on the hall, leaving time for a quick encounter between Malfo and Harry.
Even without Ron by his side Harry still rebuffed Malfo sensing the malicious intent behind his offer of friendship.
Before he could continue McGonagal returned and stated for them to follow her.