The steam from the Hogwarts Express curled lazily around the platform as the whistle sounded its second call. Roy, Hermione, Daphne, and Cassandra hurried aboard, the train's red-and-black carriages filled with the sound of laughter, chatter, and the screech of excited owls.
They began walking down the narrow corridor, peering into compartments. Each one they passed was full — students of all years talking animatedly, exchanging sweets, and showing off new wands.
"Everywhere's packed," Daphne sighed, brushing a strand of hair from her face.
"There must be somewhere," Hermione murmured, checking each compartment window.
Finally, near the rear of the train, they spotted a door slightly ajar. Inside sat a young woman — perhaps 13 or 14 years old — reading a book, her blue and bronze tie marking her as a Ravenclaw.
Roy slid the door open politely. "Excuse me. Are these seats taken?"
The girl looked up, her eyes intelligent but kind. "No, not at all. Please, sit."
"Thank you," Roy said with a nod as he and the girls stepped inside.
They placed their trunks neatly, and as the train began to move with a soft shudder, introductions followed.
"I'm Roy," he said first."Hermione Granger.""Daphne Greengrass.""Cassandra Vole."
The older girl closed her book and smiled warmly. "Penelope Clearwater, fourth year — Ravenclaw."
The younger trio leaned forward, fascinated.
"Is it true each house has different dorms?" Cassandra asked eagerly."And do you really have to answer riddles to enter the Ravenclaw common room?" Daphne added.
Penelope chuckled, delighted by their curiosity. "Yes, that's right. Ravenclaw Tower asks riddles; Slytherin's entrance is hidden in the dungeons; Gryffindor uses passwords; and Hufflepuff's door near the kitchens opens to those who knock properly."
Roy listened quietly, leaning by the window, his sharp eyes taking in every detail — the passing countryside, the soft light of the afternoon sun, and the faint thrill of the journey's beginning.
The Perfect Prefect
A few minutes later, there was a knock on the compartment door. It slid open, revealing a tall boy with neatly combed red hair, polished shoes, and an air of overconfidence.
"Penelope!" he greeted in a crisp tone. "I was wondering if you'd like to sit with me in the prefects' compartment. It's much quieter there."
Penelope blinked, her polite smile tightening slightly. "Thank you, Mr. Weasley, but I'll stay here. I have some first-years joining Hogwarts this year — it's good for them to have someone explain things."
"Mr. Weasley?" Hermione repeated curiously.
The boy puffed his chest slightly. "Yes, Percy Weasley. Fifth year. Gryffindor Prefect." He tapped his shiny badge, clearly expecting admiration.
Roy glanced at the badge, then back up at Percy with an unreadable expression. The boy's voice had that tone — the one that suggested he liked the sound of his own authority.
Percy continued, seemingly oblivious to the silence. "Just a bit of advice — some of the old wizarding families can be rather… dismissive of muggle-borns or half-bloods. Best to stay cautious."
That did it.
Cassandra's polite smile froze. "Is that so?" she said coldly. "My name is Cassandra Vole. That's Daphne Greengrass beside me. And this—" she gestured toward Roy, "—is Roy Valvas."
The name dropped into the air like a thunderclap.
Percy's proud expression faltered. "V-Valvas?" he stammered, his complexion paling.
Even Penelope looked startled, glancing between them. Everyone in the wizarding world had heard whispers — the Lestrange Incident, the Valvas warning to the Ministry itself.
Roy didn't move, his golden eyes calm yet faintly amused. "Something wrong, Mr. Weasley?"
"N-no, of course not," Percy sputtered, tugging at his collar. "I—ah—remembered I promised to meet some prefects. Enjoy your ride!"
And with that, he all but fled, muttering excuses under his breath.
Daphne exhaled a soft laugh. "He nearly tripped over himself."Cassandra smirked. "So much for the confident prefect."
Penelope sighed apologetically. "I'm sorry about that. He's… well, Percy. Very bookish, always trying to impress others. He's not a bad person, but he wants to look important."
"We noticed," Hermione said with a wry smile.
Then she turned to Roy, folding her arms. "You didn't tell me your last name is Valvas!"
Roy raised a brow, feigning innocence. "You never asked."
"I wrote to you for two weeks!" Hermione protested. "You could've mentioned it!"
Roy smirked faintly. "And get another four pages of questions about my family history? I value my peace of mind, Hermione."
Her cheeks colored instantly. "That's not—! I mean—"
The compartment erupted in laughter. Even Penelope chuckled behind her hand.
The Story of House Valvas
When the laughter settled, Hermione adjusted her posture, her scholarly tone returning. "Actually… I did read something about your family."
Roy blinked. "Oh?"
Hermione nodded eagerly. "The Valvas House — an eight-hundred-year-old noble line originally from France. In the muggle world, they're practically global aristocracy. Your grandfather, Darius Valvas, is a retired general and a political figure in NATO, and your grandmother, Clara Valvas, is the Duchess of House Este. Your father, Alex Valvas, is the current Governor of France."
Daphne and Cassandra listened, wide-eyed and visibly proud, while Penelope and Hermione seemed equally astonished.
"And then there's the Lestrange Incident," Hermione continued, lowering her voice slightly. "Eight years ago, Darius Valvas and Alex Valvas personally came to the British Ministry of Magic and warned them not to contact Jessica Frostborne-Valvas. The Lestranges ignored it. What followed… well, everyone in the wizarding world remembers. The Valvas family took the entire Lestrange estate as compensation. No one's dared cross them since."
The compartment went quiet for a moment.
Penelope exhaled slowly. "So the rumors were true…"
Daphne and Cassandra, on the other hand, couldn't stop glancing at Roy — pride and a faint blush painting their faces.
Roy Valvas… their Roy…
Roy noticed the look and smirked slightly, leaning back. "You make it sound like my family is scary."
"They kind of are," Penelope admitted.
Roy only chuckled. "Maybe. But I prefer making people laugh, not fear me."
Hermione arched a brow. "Says the boy who hid his last name just to avoid my questions."
Roy's grin widened. "It worked, didn't it?"
Her cheeks flushed again, and the girls burst into laughter.
The rest of the ride passed in cheerful conversation — Hermione debating magical theory with Penelope, Daphne and Cassandra teasing Roy whenever he smiled at Hermione's enthusiasm, and Roy occasionally throwing in witty remarks that made the entire compartment light up with laughter.
Outside, the Scottish countryside rolled past in a blur of green hills and silver mist. Inside, the start of new friendships — and faint sparks of something more — quietly began to take root.