Unloveds learning love

The Hogwarts Express pulled to a slow, screeching halt at Hogsmeade Station, the night air cool and crisp as students poured out onto the platform. Sage stepped down, her small hand still clutching Daniel’s, who immediately steadied her with a playful grin. Neville and Draco followed close behind, chatting softly about the castle’s rumored updates.

They moved toward the waiting carriages when Draco froze mid-step, his pale face contorting in horror. He stumbled backward, pointing wildly at something in front of the carriages.

“What is that?” Draco’s voice cracked, his usually composed demeanor gone.

Sage’s gaze followed his trembling hand, and her stomach sank. There, just in front of the carriages, stood the shadowy, skeletal forms of the Thestrals, their leathery wings shifting softly in the moonlight.

Before Sage could respond, Remus Lupin, who had been guiding them, stepped forward with quiet authority. His amber eyes softened as he followed Draco’s line of sight.

“They’re called Thestrals,” Remus explained gently, his tone calm and understanding. “They can only be seen by those who have witnessed death.”

Daniel frowned, his sympathy evident as he glanced at Draco. “You saw someone die?” he asked softly.

Neville and Remus exchanged curious glances, but it was Ron who blurted out, “Who’d you see die, Malfoy?” His tone was brash, tinged with a mix of skepticism and discomfort.

Draco didn’t answer, his silver-gray eyes fixed on the Thestrals with a haunted expression. Sage’s heart clenched as she recognized the truth—the events in the Chamber of Secrets last year, her near-death at the hands of the Basilisk, must have been what enabled Draco to see them now.

She caught Draco’s gaze, her emerald eyes steady and understanding. Without a word, they silently agreed to keep last year’s events a secret. There was no need to unearth that pain again, not here, not now.

The group’s quiet procession into Hogwarts was interrupted as Professor McGonagall called them aside. “Potter, Granger, Malfoy, Longbottom, Weasley,” she addressed them briskly, “please follow me.”

Ron glanced back at the others, his confusion evident, but he shrugged and trailed behind the professor. Inside the castle, McGonagall guided them to the infirmary, where Madam Pomfrey was waiting with steaming mugs of hot chocolate.

“Given your exposure to the Dementors,” McGonagall explained, her gaze serious but not unkind, “it’s important we ensure you are well.”

Ron was handed a piece of chocolate and sent to the Great Hall, but Sage, Daniel, Neville, and Draco were ushered to sit shoulder to shoulder on the infirmary beds. Sage clung tightly to Daniel’s hand, her fingers trembling slightly as the others sat close, the proximity offering silent comfort.

As they sipped their hot chocolate, warmth seeped back into their limbs, easing the icy remnants of the Dementors’ presence. Sage let out a small sigh, leaning slightly into Daniel’s side. Draco remained quiet, his usual sharpness dulled, while Neville fidgeted nervously with the hem of his sleeve.

Madam Pomfrey smiled as their color returned. “You’ll be right as rain soon enough,” she assured them.

Once they were steady, McGonagall returned, carrying a box of curious devices. She began handing out slender, golden hourglasses on chains.

“Due to your rather... ambitious schedules,” she said with a raised brow, “you’ll each be using a Time-Turner to attend all your classes. These are to be used strictly for academic purposes. I trust you understand the gravity of this responsibility.”

The group nodded, awed and slightly apprehensive as they fastened the delicate chains around their necks. McGonagall’s sharp gaze lingered on each of them before she escorted them to the Great Hall.

The sorting ceremony had just concluded when they entered, and the Hall buzzed with excitement. Sage slipped into her seat at the Slytherin table, feeling a familiar wave of unease as the other students shot her disdainful glances. She brushed it off, focusing instead on Dumbledore as he stood to speak.

“Our previous Defense Against the Dark Arts professor has mysteriously... vanished,” Dumbledore announced, his tone light but his twinkling eyes sharp. Sage exhaled quietly, relief washing over her.

Her mind drifted to her recovered memories of Lockhart, thanks to Fawkes’ healing tears. Those recollections were harrowing, the shadow of his deceit and predatory behavior lingering in her thoughts. But as her eyes flicked to the phoenix perched near Dumbledore, Fawkes met her gaze and winked. For a moment, Sage saw a vivid image of flames consuming Lockhart, and she felt an odd sense of justice.

Dumbledore’s voice brought her back. “Please welcome our new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, Remus Lupin.”

Sage’s head snapped up, her emerald eyes wide as she recognized the man who had comforted her on the train. A strange sense of trust and familiarity bubbled within her. She couldn’t explain it, but something about him felt... safe.

As the feast began, Sage chatted amiably with Ron, the tension she once felt around him oddly absent. She didn’t realize the potion at work in her daily orange juice, influencing her to tolerate his presence. The rest of the Slytherins were openly hostile, their scorn an ever-present shadow, but Sage kept this to herself, not wanting to burden Daniel, Neville, or Draco.

As the feast ended, the students retired to their dormitories. Sage lingered for a moment, glancing at Fawkes one last time. The phoenix trilled softly, a sound that felt like reassurance, before she turned and followed her housemates into the dark corridors of Hogwarts.

Sage found herself increasingly drawn to the mysterious black dog she called Pafoo. He appeared to her often during her evening walks, his silent companionship becoming a lifeline in the midst of her turbulent days. Sitting by the lake or under the sprawling oak tree near the Forbidden Forest, Sage would pour out her thoughts to him, her voice soft and steady in the quiet.

“Pafoo,” she whispered one evening, running her fingers through his thick fur, “did you know I hated them? The Dursleys? Did you know they never wanted me? I... I tried calling for you, for anyone... but there was no one.” Her voice cracked as she pressed her face against his warm coat, seeking the comfort his presence provided.

Pafoo nuzzled her, his soft whine echoing her sorrow.

Within Slytherin, Sage’s life was far less comforting. The bullying from her housemates grew relentless—hexes in the corridors, whispered insults in the common room, and sabotaged assignments. Despite the hostility, Ron remained a curious outlier, stepping in to defend her when the harassment got too severe.

“You lot are pathetic,” Ron snarled one day after blocking a spell aimed at Sage. His intervention surprised her every time, but his help did little to stop the bullying entirely.

Yet Ron’s presence in Slytherin came with its own shadows. Unbeknownst to Sage, he fed the flames of her torment in subtler ways, ensuring the rift between her and her housemates deepened.

Sage’s discomfort didn’t end with the Slytherins. Scabbers, Ron’s rat, seemed to follow her everywhere. She frequently woke to find the creature sitting at the foot of her bed, his beady eyes fixed on her. She shivered whenever she saw him, unable to explain why the rat unsettled her so deeply.

Her relationships outside Slytherin, however, grew stronger. She and Draco formed a bond that felt more familial than anything else, a sibling-like closeness forged through shared struggles.

Draco’s nightmares, a lingering effect of the Chamber of Secrets incident, often left him pale and trembling. One evening, in the quiet of the Room of Requirement, Sage and Draco sat with Neville and finally told him about the events of the previous year.

Neville listened intently, his expression a mix of concern and quiet fury on their behalf. “You should’ve told me earlier,” he murmured, his hand resting on Draco’s shoulder. “We’re family, aren’t we?”

Draco gave a small, rare smile. “Yeah, Longbottom, we are.”

Sage’s feelings for Daniel, however, were far more confusing. Being near him was like standing in a beam of warm sunlight; the chill of the Dementors seemed to fade when he was around. She couldn’t quite describe the comfort he brought—just that he made her feel safe in a way no one else did.

When the Hogsmeade trip was announced, Sage’s heart sank. Her “guardians,” the Dursleys, had refused to sign her permission slip. While her friends explored the magical village, Sage stayed behind, wandering the grounds with Pafoo.

“I don’t mind,” she assured the dog one afternoon, though her voice lacked conviction. “Hogsmeade will still be there next year.”

The halls of Hogwarts buzzed with gossip about Daniel Granger. Groups of girls giggled in corners, whispering about his charm and flirtations. Sage often overheard snippets of conversation—his “expertise with girls” was a favorite topic—but she didn’t know what to make of it.

“Dan wouldn’t...” she murmured to herself one day, shaking her head before returning to her books.

Under Professor Lupin’s guidance, Sage began learning the Patronus Charm. The training was grueling, the memories the Dementors dredged up leaving her shaken and exhausted. Yet she persisted.

It wasn’t until she focused on the things that truly made her happy—Pafoo’s warmth, Draco’s sly smirks, Neville’s steadfast loyalty, and, finally, the all-encompassing warmth she felt when near Daniel—that her wand sparked to life.

The first Patronus that emerged was a large, black dog—Pafoo. Then came a wolf, a stag, and a tiger, each one filling the room with silvery light. She gasped when a phoenix joined the group, its wings alight with ethereal flames, followed by a Hebridean Black dragon, a raven, and a lion.

Professor Lupin stared, utterly speechless, as the forms circled her, their luminous presence casting intricate patterns on the walls.

When Sage finally collapsed, exhausted but grinning, Lupin helped her to her feet. “That was... extraordinary,” he said, his voice tinged with awe. “You’ve outdone yourself, Miss Potter.”

With the Time-Turners, Sage, Daniel, Neville, and Draco achieved academic brilliance. The four of them spent hours in the Room of Requirement, poring over ancient texts and experimenting with advanced spells. They discovered forgotten corners of Hogwarts and indulged their curiosity in every subject imaginable.

By the end of their third year, they had accomplished what felt like an extra year’s worth of learning. Together, they carved out a sanctuary in the chaos of their lives, finding joy and friendship in the most unlikely of places.

Daniel Granger liked to think he had everything under control. Whether it was mastering a tricky spell, charming his way out of trouble, or juggling a dozen subjects with the help of a Time-Turner, he made it all look easy. But this year at Hogwarts was different. This year, for reasons he couldn’t quite put his finger on, he felt... disconnected.

At first, it was subtle—Sage vanishing from the library before their study sessions or arriving to class with her hair damp and her robes slightly askew. He started noticing more. A split in her bag here, a bruise on her arm there. Assignments hastily scrawled or, worse, missing entirely. Whenever he asked, Sage would smile that small, shy smile of hers and deflect.

“Just clumsy, Dan,” she’d say with a wave of her hand, brushing past his concern. “Nothing to worry about.”

But he did worry.

Then there was Draco. For someone who usually exuded confidence and a sharp tongue, Draco seemed quieter, haunted even. Daniel would catch him staring into the distance during their shared classes, his quill unmoving on the parchment.

He tried to get through to them, both Sage and Draco, but they always managed to change the subject or dismiss his questions.

One evening, in the Room of Requirement, Daniel watched Sage and Draco poring over a dusty book, their heads bent close together. Neville was off practicing a charm in the corner, leaving Daniel to sit alone with his thoughts.

They were hiding something from him. He was sure of it.

The feeling of being left out gnawed at him, and Daniel—ever the problem solver—found his own distraction. He threw himself into what he was best at: charm, charisma, and just a little mischief.

Girls were easy to talk to, and their laughter filled the void Sage’s secrets left behind. He didn’t think much of it at first—a playful wink here, a cheeky compliment there. But soon, whispers began trailing behind him in the corridors.

“He’s so dreamy,” one girl sighed to her friend, giggling as Daniel passed.

“Did you hear what he said to Marissa? She’s still blushing!”

Daniel chuckled to himself, playing the role to perfection. He told himself it didn’t matter. He wasn’t serious about any of them. It was all in good fun.

If he had been paying closer attention, he might have noticed the way Sage’s posture stiffened whenever she overheard such whispers. Or the way her smile faltered for just a second before she excused herself from the group. But Daniel wasn’t paying attention—not to her, anyway.

There were moments, though, when everything felt right. Moments when it was just him and Sage, sitting under the enchanted ceiling of the Great Hall or huddled together over a spell in the library. When Sage was near, the icy chill of the Dementors felt like a distant memory.

One night, during one of their extra study sessions, the Room of Requirement transformed into a cozy space filled with cushions and soft, golden light. Daniel leaned back against a stack of pillows, watching Sage as she read aloud from an ancient text.

Her voice was soft, her emerald eyes focused on the page. For a brief moment, the distance he felt from her and Draco melted away.

“You’re amazing, you know that?” he said suddenly, breaking the quiet.

Sage blinked, looking up at him in surprise. A faint blush crept up her cheeks. “What?”

“I’m serious.” Daniel grinned, nudging her shoulder playfully. “You’re brilliant, Sage. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

She smiled then—a real, radiant smile that made something in his chest tighten.

The Time-Turner hours they spent together became his sanctuary. For nearly a year’s worth of time, it was just the four of them—Sage, Draco, Neville, and himself—hidden away from the rest of Hogwarts. They explored the Room of Requirement, practiced advanced spells, and delved into subjects most students wouldn’t encounter until their NEWTs.

In those stolen hours, Daniel felt truly connected to his friends again. The secrets, the whispers, the haunting silences—they didn’t matter when it was just the four of them.

And yet, even in the warmth of their shared sanctuary, Daniel couldn’t shake the feeling that something was slipping through his fingers. Something fragile and precious.

Something that, deep down, he was terrified of losing.