I stepped onto the station platform, the hum of magic in the air a subtle buzz that only those attuned to it would notice. Teleporting had made travel a matter of moments, a skill I'd honed long before coming to this world. The task at hand weighed lightly on me—Arthur's request for an artifact from Hogwarts' Forbidden Forest. A vault hidden under powerful wards, protected by ancient magic? None of that concerned me. What did interest me was the potential power lying within the orb. Merlin's involvement was another mystery I'd let simmer for now. Arthur had been annoyingly tight-lipped about him, but whatever Merlin's fate, it didn't matter. My mission was clear.
[New Objective: Retrieve the ancient crystal orb from the Forbidden Forest.]
[Reward: 1x Random Skill]
The system message appeared the moment I reached the platform. I glanced at it briefly, then dismissed it with a flick of my hand. There wasn't much that could get me interested these days, but a random skill… now that was worth considering.
The station was bustling with families, students, and the typical energy you'd expect from a new school year at Hogwarts. Mothers fussing over children, owls hooting from cages, and a general buzz of excitement filled the air. I didn't need to blend in, but I made sure to keep my expression blank and my presence muted. These people weren't worth noticing, and neither was I—at least for now.
I walked down the platform, quickly spotting the column between platforms 9 and 10. I could feel the faint shimmer of the magical barrier embedded in the stone. It was subtle, but to someone like me, it stood out like a beacon. A quick sidestep, and I passed through the barrier with ease.
The faint pop of magic whispered behind me as I emerged into a new space—Platform 9 ¾. The familiar sight of the scarlet Hogwarts Express greeted me. The train was already billowing steam, and students rushed to board it, carrying trunks, pets, and excited chatter.
I didn't linger. The Hogwarts Express was just a means to an end, after all. I scanned the train and, without waiting for any pomp or excitement, boarded it, searching for an empty compartment. My goal was simple: sit in silence, reflect, and prepare for what lay ahead at Hogwarts.
I passed a few compartments filled with groups of students, their loud conversations grating against my ears. It reminded me of the noise of gods bickering over trifles—a sound that once filled my existence. Now, it only reminded me how much of that life I had left behind. Eventually, I found an empty compartment near the back of the train. I slid the door open, entered, and shut it behind me. The moment the door clicked into place, silence enveloped the room.
I sat down, my eyes drifting out the window as the countryside began to roll by. The rhythm of the train's movement was almost calming—if I were the type to care about such things.
[Eos: "The artifact should be at the heart of the vault, but Merlin's influence could complicate matters."]
"I'll handle it," I muttered under my breath. Merlin or no Merlin, it wouldn't matter. This was just another task—something I'd done countless times in countless worlds.
I closed my eyes, letting my mind drift. For a moment, there was peace. Then, the door to the compartment slid open.
"Mind if we sit here?"
I opened my eyes to find two girls standing at the entrance. One had sleek dark hair and an air of quiet confidence. The other, slightly shorter with a softer face, watched me curiously. Both were dressed in robes, already in their Hogwarts attire. I recognized them immediately—Daphne Greengrass and Tracey Davis.
I didn't respond immediately, giving them a blank stare as I considered my options. Finally, I nodded, my voice neutral. "Suit yourself."
They took that as an invitation and stepped inside, Daphne taking the seat directly across from me while Tracey sat beside her, her eyes flicking over to me every so often as if trying to gauge something.
There was silence for a few moments as the train rumbled on, the sound of wheels clattering against the tracks filling the gap in conversation. I closed my eyes again, already dismissing their presence.
"So, what's your name?" Tracey's voice broke the silence, her tone light but carrying a hint of curiosity.
"Aldrich," I answered simply, without opening my eyes.
Tracey exchanged a glance with Daphne, who remained silent for the moment. Then Tracey continued, clearly trying to draw me out more. "That's it? Just Aldrich?"
"Just Aldrich," I said flatly, keeping my answers short and to the point. I wasn't interested in entertaining them with idle conversation.
Daphne, who had been quiet until now, raised an eyebrow. Her voice was cool and slightly challenging. "Aren't you being a bit rude? Most people give their full name when asked."
I opened my eyes at that, meeting her gaze with a calm but unimpressed look. "I'm not most people."
Her lips twitched slightly, whether in amusement or irritation, I couldn't tell. But she didn't press the matter further.
Tracey, however, seemed determined to keep the conversation going. "We're both first years, too. My name's Tracey Davis, and this is Daphne Greengrass."
I inclined my head slightly but didn't respond further. The silence stretched out again, but Tracey seemed undeterred. She kept glancing at me, clearly curious but unsure how to approach. Daphne, on the other hand, sat back in her seat, watching me with calculating eyes.
The awkwardness of the silence hung in the air for a few more minutes until the door to the compartment slid open again. This time, a bushy-haired girl stood there, her face flushed as she looked around the room.
"Has anyone seen a toad?" she asked, her voice tinged with a slight edge of desperation. "A boy named Neville lost his, and he's been looking everywhere."
Before I could say anything, Daphne spoke up, her tone icy. "And who are you to barge in here without even knocking?"
The girl—Hermione, I recalled from the station—flushed deeper but squared her shoulders. "I'm just trying to help a friend."
I looked at her, and for a brief moment, a flash of recognition flickered in the back of my mind. Something about her—her appearance—reminded me of someone from the past. A girl I had saved once, long ago. Her bushy hair, the look of determination in her eyes... It stirred something, but the memory remained distant, unimportant.
She caught my gaze, and her eyes widened slightly, as if she recognized me too, though from where she wouldn't be able to place.
"You," she murmured, her voice quieter now. "You're... you look like someone I met."
I tilted my head, feigning disinterest. "You must be mistaken."
But she wasn't convinced, her brow furrowed in thought. "Are you sure we haven't met before? You—"
"I said, you're mistaken," I repeated, cutting her off.
Hermione blinked, clearly unsettled, but before she could press further, she was distracted by the reminder of her original task. "Right... the toad. I need to find Neville."
Without waiting for a response, she hurriedly left the compartment, the door sliding shut behind her.
The air in the room felt heavier now, the tension from the brief exchange lingering. Daphne and Tracey exchanged glances, but neither said anything for a moment.
Tracey was the first to break the silence. "What was that all about?"
I shrugged, my voice flat. "Nothing."
Daphne, however, didn't seem to buy it. She crossed her arms, her gaze sharp as she studied me. "You're hiding something."
I gave her a sidelong glance but didn't reply. Whatever suspicions they had, it didn't matter. These were just distractions from the real task at hand.
.
.
.
Daphne's voice cut through my thoughts, but I didn't turn to look at her. Instead, I kept my eyes on the rolling landscape outside the window, uninterested in whatever trivial conversation she and Tracey were having.
The door to the compartment slid open again, and this time I glanced up to see Draco Malfoy standing in the doorway, flanked by two other boys I recognized—Crabbe and Goyle. Draco's pale, pointed face twisted into a sneer as he looked inside.
"Well, well, well," Draco drawled, his eyes narrowing as he spotted Daphne and Tracey. "Look who we have here. I've been looking for Harry Potter. Has anyone seen him?"
Daphne gave him a flat look, clearly unimpressed by Draco's usual bravado. "We're not your informants, Malfoy."
Draco's smirk widened, clearly enjoying the little bit of tension he'd stirred up. "Oh, I wasn't asking for your help, Greengrass. Just thought I'd check in on you—considering how your family's been... slipping lately."
At the mention of her family, I noticed Daphne stiffen slightly. It was subtle, but I could feel the tension in the air shift. She didn't say anything in response, but the way her jaw clenched spoke volumes. I was only half listening until Draco made that comment about her family.
Annoying.
Before Daphne could retort, I finally decided to speak, my voice low but carrying an undeniable weight. "Leave."
The single word cut through the air like a blade, and it had the desired effect. Draco's smirk faltered for a split second as he looked over at me. His eyes scanned me up and down, clearly unimpressed by my simple, unassuming appearance. I could see the gears turning in his head—he was trying to place me, to figure out who I was. Then, his sneer returned, more pronounced this time, as if he had made some sort of realization.
"And who are you to tell me what to do?" Draco scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. "You must be new. What's your name, Muggle? Do you even know who I am?"
I stayed silent, watching him with a calm, unbothered expression. His taunting didn't affect me, not in the slightest. The boy clearly thought his name and status would make me flinch. He was wrong.
Draco's eyes glinted with malice as he continued, his voice dripping with arrogance. "I'm Draco Malfoy. My father is one of the most powerful wizards in the Ministry. He—"
"Leave."
This time, my voice was even lower, but the weight behind it was undeniable. The pressure in the room shifted, a ripple of magic that rolled through the air like a heavy wave. My words weren't just a suggestion—they were a command.
Draco faltered again, this time visibly. He tried to maintain his bravado, but I could see the slight tremor in his posture, the brief flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. For a moment, the entire compartment went silent, even Crabbe and Goyle shifted uneasily.
"Who—Who do you think you are?" Draco stammered, trying to regain his footing, though his voice wavered. "You think you can just—"
I locked eyes with him, my gaze cold and unyielding. In that moment, the full weight of who I was—what I had been—pressed down on him. It wasn't anything overt or flashy, but the pressure in the air grew thicker, the magic around me responding to my will.
Draco's face paled, his smirk completely gone now, replaced by a tight-lipped expression of fear. He could feel it, even if he didn't understand what was happening. My presence was suffocating, overwhelming him in ways he couldn't comprehend.
He didn't say another word. Without so much as a parting insult, he turned on his heel and hurried out of the compartment, Crabbe and Goyle stumbling after him like oversized shadows.
The door slid shut behind them, and the tension in the compartment eased. Daphne let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding, while Tracey looked between me and the door, wide-eyed.
"That was..." Tracey began, but her words trailed off, as if she didn't know how to finish the sentence.
Daphne, however, composed herself quickly. She glanced at me, her expression unreadable. "You didn't have to do that."
I shrugged. "He was annoying."
There was a brief pause before Daphne gave a small nod of agreement. "Still, Malfoy's not someone you want to get on the bad side of. His father..."
"I don't care about his father," I interrupted, my voice flat. "Or him."
The conversation ended there, but I could feel Daphne studying me for a moment longer, as if she were trying to figure me out. I didn't offer her anything further.
Instead, I leaned back in my seat and closed my eyes, letting my thoughts drift again. The encounter with Draco had been mildly irritating, but nothing more than that. If he thought his family's name could intimidate me, he had no idea who he was dealing with.
Clatter-clatter-clatter.
The train wheels were the only sound that filled the space.