➣ 𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝟑 “𝘿𝙚𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙤𝙧𝙨 𝘼𝙗𝙤𝙖𝙧𝙙”
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By the time they entered the living room, after getting everything for school, Nicolás and Caelum saw Carolina and Remus sitting on one of the couches. She had her husband’s tired face cupped in her hands, checking every single inch of it with keen eyes.
With a satisfied smile, she nodded. “Okay, that was no wounds for this full moon, let’s hope the ones to come will be just as easy.”
Remus sighed, in both parts tired and deifying, looking at her with adoration. “Love, I told you, you don’t need to come to the Shrieking Shack for me, Nico and Ember will be more than enough.”
Carolina only grinned at him. “And I already told you that I don’t care, I’ll still come.”
Remus shook his head with a smile, “You really are your son’s mother, aren’t you?” he added, looking towards his son.
“And you would do well in learning that very little arguing works with us, Dad,” Nicolás decided to chime in, leaving his trunk at the door.
“It’s time to leave,” Aunt María declared, walking into the room. Behind her were Abu Pedro and Abu Angela, all of them ready.
Now, with everyone ready, they took their trunks and walked out, walking out of the house’s perimeter before Apparating into King’s Cross Station.
Seconds after entering Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, Remus, Nicolás, and Caelum took their trunks to the train, before coming back to their family. After saying their goodbyes, and many kisses and hugs, they decided to board the train. Harry and the other kids would come eventually, and they’d have the time in Hogwarts to see them. The rest of the family who wasn't boarding decided to wait for Harry to say their goodbyes.
As the last year, there were many eyes on Ember—the Wampus Cat thrived in the attention, looking all regal with his chin up and his smooth walking—, and, with the addition of Remus, they attracted even more eyes. After all, the only adult they’ve ever seen on the train is the trolley witch.
After they found an empty compartment, they sat. Remus looked as tired as he looked the morning after each full moon. He put one of his robes, a particularly over-sized one, over his body, before turning towards the window to sleep. A second later, the door opened, and Cedric peeked his head, looking at them with an easy smile, before looking at Remus, confused, but decided not to ask.
“The Prefects meeting starts in fifteen, is the first compartment from the top,” Cedric informed Caelum. “Hmm, can we talk?” he asked in a more unsure voice, looking at Nicolás.
Nicolás and Caelum stood up, walking towards the door.
“I’ll see you at Hogwarts,” Nicolás told Caelum. His cousin only sent him a teasing grin, while moving his eyebrows suggestively. “Off with you, Busybody”
Walking out with a smile, and without a word, Nicolás took one of Cedric’s hands, walking towards another empty compartment, one luckily not hard to find.
“So,” Nicolás said, taking a few steps from Cedric.
“So,” Cedric said. He was giving Nicolás an endearingly clueless smile.
“How was the rest of your summer?” Nicolás asked, taking a step forward. Cedric seemed to gulp.
“I — I mean — it was nice. It’s a shame I had to leave,” he scratched the back of his neck. “We visited some family in Ireland. How — um, how was the rest of your summer?”
“Caelum and I did much progress in the diary matter, but I’ll tell you when we can all see, probably on the ride to the castle,” Nicolás said, taking another step forward. “Do you wanna talk about what we need to talk?” Nicolás asked, Cedirc gulped.
“Well, I — cough — I’ve never had to talk about this with anyone, and I’m honestly pretty nervous.”
“I hope it’s a good way of nervousness?” Nicolás asked with a smile.
“Well, I feel like I might throw up at any moment, I can just hope it won’t be all over you,” Cedric chuckled.
“My Vanishing Charm is pretty good, you know,” Nicolás said. Cedric only laughed, taking a step forward, the first one he took. And they were almost chest-to-chest.
“Have you changed your mind?” the boy asked in a whisper.
“No. Have you?” Nicolás retorted.
“No,” Cedric breathed.
Craning his head slightly up, so he could look at him, Cedric’s face was a sight to behold. All flushed cheeks, making his freckles look even more beautiful, like endless constellations on the vast space. A deeply rosy flush came from his neck, enveloping its way up his cheeks and the bridge of his nose. His hazel eyes beamed like pools of honey, and in that moment, Nicolás felt like Winnie the Pooh, able—and perhaps desiring—to lose himself in them.
Nicolás has always enjoyed gazing at Cedric’s features. They were the perfect blend between boyish charm—with his sweet smile, and his overwhelming gentleness—and teenage maturating—with how sharp his jaw became, and how strong he was, not to mention the way his body had been developing since they were eleven.
Nicolás wouldn’t admit it out loud, but more than once the air has been stuck on his throat just by looking at Cedric’s body. Like right there, with his face so close to the boy’s chest, he could even feel the heat radiating through his golden sweater.
He put a hand on Cedric’s strong chest for a second—Merlin bless all the hours Cedric spends on Quidditch. Their eyes locked, in the same fascination, curiosity, and uncertainty.
As Cedric opened his trembling mouth, Nicolás reached, on his tippy toes, and enveloped the boy’s neck with his arms, resting his face in the crook of his neck. Not a second later, Cedric’s hands were firmly settled on his waist, softly rubbing his thumbs, probably grounding himself.
“I was being honest, back at the reserve,” Nicolás started. “I want this, I don’t — I — I can’t say what it is, but I want it. And I want it with you.”
“Me too,” Cedric breathed against Nicolás’ ink-black hair. “And we take it a day at a time, just like you said.”
Nicolás nodded, enjoying the heat of Cedric's skin against his nose. “This is — we don’t have to follow anyone else’s rhythm. This is ours and is ours to decide how to move and what to do with it.”
Moving back from Cedric’s personal space, Nicolás looked up, into Cedric eyes. And he found a new determination in them, a new security he was lacking a few minutes ago. With his thumbs still rubbing Nicolás’ waist over his purple sweater, Cedric nodded with a smile.
Seeing as their time was practically up, Nicolás chuckled.
“I think the Prefect meeting is about to start,” he said, and it took Cedric a few seconds to catch the meaning of those words.
“Yeah,” Cedric said, nodding distractedly, eyes never leaving Nicolás'.
Nicolás chuckled again. “Ced, you are a Prefect.”
“Yeah,” Cedric nodded again, before stopping. “Oh, wait, I am a Prefect.”
Laughing, Nicolás reached forward, gracing his lips against Cedric’s flushed cheek. With a silly smile and nodding, Cedric reached down, doing the same on Nicolás’ cheek, stopping for a moment, so his nose made contact with the skin, then, he pointed his finger at the door.
“I should – I should probably go, you know.”
In a whim, Nicolás enveloped his arms around the taller boy’s middle, pressing his face on his chest.
“I’ll see you later,” he said, his voice muffled against the fabric of Cedric’s sweater.
“Yeah,” Cedric breathed against Nicolás’ hair, before finally stepping back, and walking out of the compartment, chin held high and chest popping out.
Now satisfied, Nicolás made his way back to his father’s compartment.
Taking a seat next to his father, Nicolás looked out the window. Poor Harry was still out with Carolina. Both were talking something very personal, because even from the distance, Nicolás could see Harry’s cheeks very red, and his eyes glimmered with unshed tears while the boy nodded enthusiastically.
While Aunt María, Abu Pedro, and Abu Angela approached Harry, Nicolás decided to rest. As time passed, the effects of the Invigoration Draught passed as well, and the tiredness came to cling to his very bones. He moved, wrapping his arms around his father’s middle, and resting his head against his arm.
In a move that was as instinctual as breathing for Remus, while moving his cloak, so the two of them would be covered, Remus wrapped his arm around Nicolás’ shoulders, pressing his son against his side, just like he’d been doing for the last fifteen years.
And in the comfort of his father's wooden and grassy scent, the one he'd learned to sleep to at days old, Nicolás finally let his body and mind come to a well-deserved rest.
•─────⋅☾☽⋅─────•
He was softly sniffling and quietly drying his eyes by the time they finally boarded the Hogwarts Express. But what other way was Harry supposed to react, given the conversation he had in the last fifteen minutes?
Carolina guided Harry to a safe distance from impertinent ears.
“Harry, Love, you know I'm your godmother, right?”
Looking at her confused, Harry limited himself to nod, prompting her to keep talking.
“I — I was thinking of following Dumbledore's command about taking you back to Privet Drive each summer, but I —”
She stopped for a moment, and so many things fired up in Harry's head.
Was she trying to say what he thought she was trying to say? Should he give himself empty hope and silently pray that she was going where he thought—and secretly willed—she was going? Because, if that was the case, he had dreamt of this moment for so many years, and he didn't want to end up with a broken heart if she was not meaning what he hoped, but he was also a pre-teen, and he liked to dream.
With eyes a bit glassy, Aunt Caro looked back at him, “I want you to come with us all the summer, and each summer, and all the Christmas breaks, and always, just — with us.”
Harry's eyes widened as he silently nodded. Was he still asleep and dreaming? Was this real? Had he really found people who truly and unconditionally loved him? Did he really have a true family? Because, for the longest time, that concept seemed to be so far beyond his reach, but now, it was there, in front of him.
“I don't — I don't want to pressure you into answering right now, but Remus and I have been talking and — we would — we would like to legally adopt you, and —”
And before she could finish, Harry threw himself in her arm, his eyes like open faucets, his head moving up and down with no stopping in the horizon, and only one word coming out of his mouth, time after time, “Yes.”
If he weren’t supposed to be going to school right now, he would’ve probably dropped, crying his heart out. But anyway, after a big crashing hug, he entered the train with Ron and Hermione on his heels.
They walked down the aisles of filled compartments until they found one that at first seemed empty, except there were two people inside: Uncle Remus and Nicolás—both fast asleep.
As Harry opened the door, he halted at the sight, and Hermione and Ron crashed with him.
“Why’s Nicolás sleeping over an old man?” asked Ron in a disturbed voice, clearly not remembering him from the summer.
And it was understandable, Uncle Remus, despite being relatively young, looked incredibly worn out, the scars across his face didn’t help the wrinkles of tiredness that only seemed to leave him for a few weeks each month.
“Isn't that…? Wait, Professor R. J. Lupin,” whispered Hermione at once.
“How d'you know that?” Ron asked.
“It's on his case,” she replied, rolling her eyes and pointing at the luggage rack over Uncle Remus’ head.
“Wonder what he teaches?” said Ron, frowning at Uncle Remus’ pallid profile.
“First of all, he’s not an old man,” Harry whispered. “He’s Uncle Remus, Nicolás’ father, and it’s obvious what he’ll be teaching.”
"Defence Against the Dark Arts," scoffed Hermione matter-of-factly.
“Well, I hope he's up to it,” said Ron doubtfully. “He looks like one good hex would finish him off, doesn't he? Anyway...” He turned to Harry. “What were you going to tell us?”
“He's stronger than he looks,” Harry said, before diving in to explain all about Mr. and Mrs. Weasley's argument and the warning Mr. Weasley had just given him.
When he'd finished, Ron looked thunderstruck, and Hermione had her hands over her mouth. She finally lowered them to say, “Sirius Black escaped to come after you? Oh, Harry... you'll have to be really, really careful. Don't go looking for trouble, Harry --”
“I don't go looking for trouble,” said Harry, nettled, making an effort to not say anything he shouldn't. “Trouble usually finds me,” he hissed.
“How thick would Harry have to be, to go looking for a nutter who wants to kill him?” said Ron shakily.
They were taking the news worse than Harry had expected. Both Ron and Hermione seemed to be much so frightened of Uncle Sirius, that he didn't know how to pretend and fake worry.
“No one knows how he got out of Azkaban,” said Ron uncomfortably. “No one's ever done it before. And he was a top-security prisoner, too.”
“But they'll catch him, won't they?” said Hermione earnestly. “I mean, they've got all the Muggles looking out for him too....”
“What's that noise?” said Ron suddenly.
A faint, tinny sort of whistle was coming from somewhere. They looked all around the compartment.”
Harry realized it was the Sneakoscope Ron gifted him for his birthday. It had turned on, spinning very fast and glowing brightly. Feeling Nicolás stir next to him, Harry looked at Ron, who had the Sneakoscope in his hands.
“Stick it back in the trunk!” Harry hissed as the Sneakoscope whistled piercingly, “Or it'll wake them up.”
Nodding, Ron stuffed the ball in a pair of pristine-clean black socks Abu Angela had knitted for him, then, he closed the lid of the trunk, and the noise was finally gone. Harry saw how, at this, Nicolás moved to snuggle back onto his father.
Ron then suggested taking the Sneakoscope to Hogsmeade to get it checked, and that started the whole Hogsmeade conversation. Harry was very excited, his hopes of going to Hogsmeade had been dead until his rescue.
“Did those muggles sign your permission?” Ron asked.
“The Dursleys didn't sign my permission form,” Harry said.
Ron looked horrified. “You're not allowed to come? But – no way – McGonagall or someone will give you permission – “
“They didn’t, but Aunt Carolina did! You guys didn’t see it, they kicked Fudge out of the house the other day!” Harry said, incapable of containing his amazement.
“The Minister for Magic went to your house?” Ron asked. “Wait! They kicked out the Minister for Magic?!”
“I don’t think that's really surprising,” Hermione commented. The boys looked back at her, asking with their eyes. “Nicolás’ family has power in here, even if they are from another continent. Did you know Pedro Cardona was the favorite candidate for Minister before Cornelius Fudge was elected?”
Both boys shook their heads. Harry felt a little bad, perhaps he needed to start asking about family history, especially as he was to become a Cardona by the end of the year.
“Abu Pedro spent a whole week giving me an intensive potions training. I'm not going to take any crap from Snape this year,” he said angrily. “Just wait and see how good I got at it.”
“He taught you?” Hermione asked, her mouth wide open.
“Yes, why?” asked Harry.
“Why?! Harry, do you have any idea who he is?” Hemione asked. Harry simply shrugged, to him, Abu Pedro was simply Abu Pedro, he never thought deeper than that.
“Harry, he’s the co-creator of the Wolfsbane Potion, the only potion that can actually help Werewolves with their ailment. And not just that, he was an apprentice of Nicolas Flamel! The last one at that, one of the only fifty people Flamel’s taught in over six centuries.”
“Where did you read all of that about my family?” Harry said, speechless. Ron looked like all the gears in his brain were working overtime, probably trying to understand all the new information.
Hermione’s face quickly became red. “I spoke with him at your party, and he gave me a lot of journals and books to help me.”
“Help you with what?” asked Ron, flabbergasted.
“I only knew he was the favorite option for Minister back in the day, and that he’s currently the Deputy Minister for Magic in Colombia,” Hermione said in a rush. “He’s my idol,” she sighed.
Ron and Harry locked eyes. It just made perfect sense for Hermione to have someone like Abu Pedro as her idol.
As he looked out of the window, Harry saw how it was raining outside. The rain thickened as the train sped yet farther north; the windows were now a solid, shimmering gray, which gradually darkened until lanterns flickered into life all along the corridors and over the luggage racks. The train rattled, the rain hammered, the rails roared, but still, Uncle Remus and Nicolás slept.
“We must be nearly there,” said Ron, leaning forward to look past Uncle Remus at the now completely black window.
The words had hardly left him when the train started to slow down. “Great,” said Ron, getting up and walking carefully past Uncle Remus and Nicolás to try and see outside. “I'm starving. I want to get to the feast...”
“We can't be there yet,” said Hermione, checking her watch.
“So why are we stopping?” asked Harry no one in particular.
The train was getting slower and slower. As the noise of the pistons fell away, the wind and rain sounded louder than ever against the windows.
Harry, who was nearest to the door, got up to look into the corridor. All along the train, heads were sticking curiously out of their compartments.
The train came to a stop with a jolt, and distant thuds and bangs told them that luggage had fallen out of the racks due to its abruptness. Then, without warning, all the lamps went out, and they were plunged into total darkness.
•─────⋅☾☽⋅─────•
With the harsh halt from the train, as it stopped, Nicolás mind started to come back to the living world. The first thing he noticed, apart from how pitch black the world was, was the chilling cold that penetrated his skin, getting to his bones and then to the very core of his being.
It was not a normal cold, but a cold that made him feel hopeless. Drowsy, he heard the other occupants of the compartment. Deciding to keep the act of being asleep, Nicolás put extra effort into listening to the conversation around him, which turned more and more chaotic by the second.
“What's going on?” said Ron's voice from behind Harry.
“Ouch!” gasped Hermione. “Ron, that was my foot!”
“D'you think we've broken down?” Harry asked.
“Dunno...,” said Ron.
There was a squeaking sound, and Nicolás saw the dim black outline of Ron, wiping a patch clean on the window and peering out.
“There's something moving out there,” Ron said. “I think people are coming aboard...”
The compartment door suddenly opened, and someone fell painfully close to Nicolás' legs.
“Sorry — d'you know what's going on? — Ouch — sorry”
“Hullo, Neville,” said Harry.
“Harry? Is that you? What's happening?”
“No idea — sit down —”
There was a loud hissing and a yelp of pain; Neville had tried to sit on Crookshanks, thankfully Ember was secured behind Nicolás' legs.
“I'm going to go and ask the driver what's going on,” came Hermione's voice. Nicolás heard her pass, heard the door slide open again, and then another thud and two loud squeals of pain.
“Who's that?”
“Who's that?”
“Ginny?”
“Hermione?”
“What are you doing?”
“I was looking for Ron —”
“Come in and sit down—”
“Not here!” said Harry hurriedly. “I'm here!”
“Ouch!” said Neville.
“Quiet!” hissed Nicolás in a hoarse voice from sleeping. “Stay put,” he ordered. Standing up, his hand was illuminated with a handful of white flames. Before walking up to the door, Nicolás gently nudged his father until he moved his head and opened his eyes.
But before Nicolás could reach it, the door slid slowly open.
Standing in the doorway, illuminated by the shivering flames in Nicolás' hand, was a cloaked figure that towered to the ceiling. Its face was completely hidden beneath its hood.
Nicolás's eyes darted downward, and what he saw made his stomach contract. Not only was the creature floating a few centimeters above the ground, but there was a hand protruding from the cloak, and it was glistening, grayish, slimy-looking, and scabbed, like something dead that had decayed in water...
But this made no sense, there was absolutely no reason for a Dementor to be this far away from Azkaban, especially inside a train full of children.
The Dementor seemed to look at Nicolás, before looking behind him at Harry. Then, as Nicolás was paralyzed by the cold and the feeling of hopeless loneliness — seeing a vision he last saw when he was nine, but whose nightmares followed him for the years to come —, the Dementor took something like a deep breath towards Harry.
Nicolás barely registered Harry passing out, as his father stood up, wand pointed at the Dementor, and a bright silver light pulled him back, cutting off Nicolás' trance. Even after so many years, his father still refused to use his corporeal Patronus in front of others.
As the vision finally was ripped from his mind’s eye, and he could bring forward his good feelings, and his desire to protect those in the compartment, Nicolás pointed his wand at the Dementor, before crying, “Expecto Patronum!”
From the tip of his wand a large, silver bright wolf emerged. It collided with the Demetor, pining it to the wall with its hard paws, seeming to growl at it.
As Nicolás walked out of the compartment, toward the Dementor and under the shocked eyes of everyone, he looked up the aisle, towards the front. A moment later, another door was opened abruptly — the one where the Prefects’ meeting was taking place —, before another Dementor was expelled from its inside, being pinned to a wall by a large, silver bright lion, being followed by Caelum with his wand up.
Well, the intensive Patronus training over the summer was, at least, effective.
Locking eyes, both cousins nodded, and, with a flick of their wands and their hands, they directed their Patronuses making them move the Dementors, so they could take them out of the train.
And slowly, but with strength, both silvery animals moved, headbutting and snapping their jaws, and the Dementors had no option but to float away.
But those two weren't the only Dementors on the train. On their way to the front door, the two Patronuses were able to collect the other ten Dementors roaming the train, all of them flinching and trying to fly away from the blinding silver light.
Once the dark creatures were all outside, Nicolás caught a glimpse of at least twenty Dementors floating around the train.
“I guess the Prefect meeting’s over?” Nicolás asked, his eyes glued to the Dementors as the last one looked back, before hurrying to leave.
“Yeah,” Caelum said with a frown.
“Come back with me,” Nicolás said, turning back to walk to his compartment. His silver wolf Patronus walking next to him. Caelum walked with his lion Patronus.
•─────⋅☾☽⋅─────•
The compartment was chaos with everyone trying to wake Harry up. Even Remus seemed unsure about what to do, apart from asking everyone to move so Harry had space to breathe.
After opening the window, so more air could enter, and in a fluid motion, Nicolás sat on the floor behind Harry, bringing up his limp body to rest the boy’s back against his chest. From the movement, Harry’s head ended up resting against his shoulder, and a few seconds later, the boy finally started to blink, taking in the redness of the Hogwarts Express, and everyone surrounding him.
“W — what?”
“Are you okay?” Ron asked nervously.
“Yeah,” said Harry, looking quickly toward the door. The hooded creature had vanished. “What happened? Where’s that — that thing? Who screamed?”
“No one screamed,” said Ron, more nervously still.
Harry looked around the bright compartment, squinting his eyes. Ginny and Neville looked back at him, both very pale.
“But I heard screaming —”
Nicolás grabbed the boy's glasses, putting them back on his face.
“You good now?” Nicolás asked.
“Thank you,” said Harry, gently resing back his head on Nicolás' shoulder.
A loud snap made all the younger kids jump. Remus was breaking an enormous slab of chocolate into pieces.
“Here,” he said to Harry, handing him a particularly large piece. “Eat it. You'll feel better.”
Harry took the chocolate but didn’t eat it.
“What was that thing?” he asked Remus.
“A Dementor,” said Remus, who was now giving chocolate to everyone else.
“One of the guards of Azkaban,” said Nicolás. Looking back at him, Harry relaxed back against his chest.
After finishing giving the chocolate, his father gave the remaining of the slab to Nicolás, nodding at him. Nicolás nodded back.
“Eat,” he repeated. “It’ll help. I need to speak to the driver, excuse me...”
He strolled past Harry and disappeared into the corridor.
“Are you sure you’re okay, Harry?” said Hermione, watching Harry anxiously.
“I don’t get it... What happened?” said Harry, wiping more sweat off his face.
“Well — that thing — the Dementor — stood there and looked around — I mean, I think it did, I couldn’t see its face — and you — you —” said Hermione.
“I thought you were having a fit or something,” said Ron, who still looked scared. “You went sort of rigid and fell out of your seat and started twitching —”
“And Professor Lupin stepped over you, and walked toward the Dementor, and pulled out his wand,” said Hermione, “and a silvery thing shot out of his wand at it, it pushed him out of the threshold, but then Nicolás said something — an incantation — and a silver wolf appeared, and it took the Dementor out...”
“It was horrible,” said Neville, in a higher voice than usual. “Did you feel how cold it got when it came in?”
“I felt weird,” said Ron, shifting his shoulders uncomfortably. “Like I’d never be cheerful again...”
Ginny, who was huddled in her corner looking nearly as bad as Harry probably felt, gave a small sob; Hermione went over and put a comforting arm around her.
“That’s exactly what they do,” Nicolás said, squeezing his arms around Harry. “It has nothing to do with you, Little One,” he said firmly.
“But didn’t any of you — fall off your seats?” said Harry awkwardly.
“No,” said Ron, looking anxiously at Harry again. “Ginny was shaking like mad, though...”
Nicolás understood Harry was probably feeling ashamed. He probably felt weak, and he was still shivery, as though he were recovering from a bad bout of flu; but Nicolás wasn't about to let that feeling eat the boy up.
“Again, it has nothing to do with you,” Nicolás sternly whispered in Harry’s ear. The boy merely nodded weakly at him. “We’ll talk about this at another time, but there’s nothing for you to feel ashamed.”
Nicolás knew Harry felt better the moment he bit the chocolate. His body sort of relaxed against Nicolás’ chest. And as he and the other did so, Remus entered the compartment.
“We’ll be at Hogwarts in ten minutes,” said Remus. “Are you all right, Harry?”
“I'm fine, Uncle Remus,” he muttered, nodding embarrassed.
They didn’t talk much during the remainder of the journey. At long last, the train stopped at Hogsmeade Station, and there was a great scramble to get outside; owls hooted, cats meowed, and Neville’s pet toad croaked loudly from under his hat. It was freezing on the tiny platform; rain was driving down in icy sheets.
“Firs’ years this way!” called a familiar voice. Harry, Ron, and Hermione turned and saw the gigantic outline of Hagrid at the other end of the platform, beckoning the terrified-looking new students forward for their traditional journey across the lake. After a nod, and a quick hug, Harry and his friends went towards Hagrid to greet him.
Nicolás, on the other hand, went to find Cedric and the others so they could take a Thestral carriage.
•─────⋅☾☽⋅─────•
The four of them were very silent. Abnormally silent, especially for Caelum, who loved to hear the sound of his own voice.
“So,” Nicolás said, dragging a little bit the vowel. “Did you guys see us?”
Cedric and Dorian gave him an incredulous look.
“If we saw you?” Dorian asked, his voice clearly calling him ‘idiot’. “Half the school saw the two of you parading those bloody Patronuses against the Dementors.”
“It was bloody brilliant,” Cedric said, looking at Nicolás with a smile and intensity that clearly nobody missed, given by the knowing smirks Caelum and Dorian gave him.
“Oh, I know it was bloody brilliant,” Dorian said, rolling his eyes, “I just don’t need either of you getting your heads any bigger.”
“Maybe you should tell Caelum that, I don’t have a big head,” Nicolás said.
“No? Oh, fearsome Basilisk slayer?” Dorian retorted with a wicked smirk.
“Well, technically, Harry is the Basilisk slayer, a not fearsome, let me tell you that. I only dueled Riddle to give him time,” Nicolás shrugged.
“Right,” Dorian groaned. The others laughed at how nonchalant Nicolás was about dueling a young Voldemort himself.
“I think we should use the fifteen minutes left of the ride to talk about Riddle,” Nicolás insisted.
“What did you guys find out?” Cedric asked, leaning forward.
“We went to Grimmauld Place, and found some very interesting journals,” Caelum started.
“Books too,” Nicolás chimed in. “I was right, you know.”
“About what?” asked Dorian.
“Voldemort’s family is a dead bloodline. The Gaunts.”
After a moment, Dorian let out an exasperated sigh and slapped his forehead. “Of course! How could I have forgotten? They were the last bloodline known to be related to Salazar Slytherin. Still clinging to that reputation as their family fell to oblivion.”
Nicolás nodded so Caelum could speak. “The journals and our investigation took us to the conclusion that Voldemort made Horcruxes,” said Caelum.
“And what’s that?” Cedric asked.
“Basically, you fragment your soul and deposit a fragment into an object,” Caelum responded.
“So, he’s basically immortal,” Dorian concluded with a heavy sigh.
“Yeah, but that’s something to worry about at another time, and something we should leave to the adults. We have our own worries more matching for our age, you know, like our O.W.L.s,” Nicolás insisted in a more serious voice.
“Yeah,” Cedirc agreed, before looking at Caelum a little awkwardly. “How are you doing?”
“Doing with what?” Caelum asked, caught off guard.
“Your father escaped bloody Azkaban, Cae,” Dorian said in a gentler voice and a worried expression. “The school’s already whispering.”
“I don’t give two shits what they whisper, they know nothing,” Caelum hissed. Rapidly apologizing at Dorian’s flinch. “Sorry, I don’t – fuck – they don’t know shit, and it isn’t their business.”
“You won’t – you won’t go searching for him, will you?” Dorian asked, looking at Caelum with the closest thing Nicolás has ever seen similar to vulnerability from the Slytherin.
Instead of answering, Caelum decided to just look out the window, where the storm was raging, and the drops of rain ricocheted in every direction. The condensation of his breath was making the window foggy white, but he refused to be seen so angry.
Silently, Nicolás took his cousin’s hand, giving him a soft squeeze, and received one back.
As the carriage came to a halt, and the raging storm finally found peace, stopping the rain, the four boys got out of the carriage.
While they were surrounded by all the other students, Nicolás saw one platinum-blonde head making its way – elbowing his way would be more accurate– towards them.
Finally free of the others, Draco Malfoy grabbed the arm of Dorian’s robes, and after giving the others a distasteful, yet contained look, he hissed.
“Is it true about Potter?” And even if he wanted to sound amused or mean, it came in a very silent voice, and his face betrayed how worried he really felt. “Is it truth that he – that he… fainted?”
“Yes,” was all Dorian said.
“I trust you won’t be using that as a source of pestering?” Nicolás said out loud, raising a brow at Draco.
Draco gave him a dirty eye, before looking back at Dorian’s hard face. He only huffed before turning around and walking away.
“He’s getting better, isn’t he?” Dorian said in a fond voice and a small smile, looking at where the younger boy left.
The other three boys shared an unsure look, before Nicolás squeezed Dorian’s shoulder.
“Mate, you know him best. I’ll trust your judgment on that one.”
And the three of them entered the Great Hall for the Sorting Ceremony and the Welcoming Feast. Nicolás took the chance to run to all his other friends and congratulate them for becoming Prefects.
The Sorting went rather fast; Hufflepuff received its own share of insecure children full of potential. And it was after the Sorting, that Dumbledore decided to give his welcoming speech.
“Welcome!” said Dumbledore, the candlelight shimmering on his beard. “Welcome to another year at Hogwarts! I have a few things to say to you all, and as one of them is very serious, I think it best to get it out of the way before you become befuddled by our excellent feast...”
Dumbledore cleared his throat and continued, “As you will all be aware after their search of the Hogwarts Express, our school is presently playing host to some of the Dementors of Azkaban, who are here on Ministry of Magic business.”
“If they attack anyone else, my mom and my aunt are probably going to tear down Fudge's office,” Nicolás whispered in Cedric's ear. Flushing, the boy laughed quietly.
“They are stationed at every entrance to the grounds,” Dumbledore continued, “and while they are with us, I must make it plain that nobody is to leave school without permission. Dementors are not to be fooled by tricks or disguises — or even Invisibility Cloaks,” he added blandly. “It is not in the nature of a Dementor to understand pleading or excuses. I therefore warn each and every one of you to give them no reason to harm you. I look to the prefects, and our new Head Boy and Girl, to make sure that no student runs afoul of the Dementors,” he said.
Dumbledore paused again; he looked very seriously around the hall, and nobody moved or made a sound.
“On a happier note,” he continued, “I am pleased to welcome two new teachers to our ranks this year. First, Professor Lupin, who has kindly consented to fill the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.”
There was some scattered, rather unenthusiastic applause. A few classmates and acquaintances shoot Nicolás glances at the mention of his father.
Only those who had been in the compartment on the train with him, and Nicolás' friends, clapped hard, Nicolás and Caelum the loudest, as expected, clapping like crazy and wolf-whistling. Soon enough, the rest of the Hall seemed to take notice, and the clapping got much louder.
His father sent Nicolás a wink as he stood up and greeted the hall.
“Snape doesn't look very much happy about your father,” Cedric whispered in Nicolás’ ear, and the boy choked on air at the hot breath’s contact with his skin.
“The more bitter he is, the sweeter it'll be for me,” he whispered back with a shit-eating grin. Cedric’s deep laugh danced on Nicolás ear as it moved something in his stomach – surprisingly similar to a Graphorn stampede – and the boy gulped; Dumbledore continued with his speech.
“As to our second new appointment,” Dumbledore continued as the heartfelt applause for the newly appointed Professor Lupin died away. “Well, I am sorry to tell you that Professor Kettleburn, our Care of Magical Creatures teacher, retired at the end of last year in order to enjoy more time with his remaining limbs. However, I am delighted to say that his place will be filled by none other than Rubeus Hagrid, who has agreed to take on this teaching job in addition to his gamekeeping duties.”
The applause that roared was thunderous, especially from the Gryffindor table and Hufflepuff — the house with the most third years and up, taking Care of Magical Creatures.
“Well, I think that’s everything of importance,” said Dumbledore. “Let the feast begin!”
The golden plates and goblets before them filled suddenly with food and drink. They all felt ravenous after facing a Dementor, helping themselves to everything they could reach and began to eat. It was a delicious feast; the hall echoed with talk, laughter, and the clatter of knives and forks.
After the feast, Cedric, Amara, Aurora, and Nicolás approached Hagrid to congratulate him on his new post. After that, they retreated to their dorms to get a good night’s sleep before the start of classes.
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Author's note
Sooo, Harry getting adopted? Made me tear up 💜
The whole Dementor attack and the usage of Patronuses was so beautiful, like, each animal shape has a meaning and it makes me so happy how much they love each other.
How or what do you think the boys are going to do with the information about the Horcruxes? 👀👀
side note, Professor R. J. Lupin, you will always be an icon 🫠
Anyways, please feel free to leave as many comments as you want, they are always appreciated, as well as your votes and follows!
- 𝐣.𝐟. 𝐜. 🐼💜