Ravenclaw!
Earlier that day:
The morning had started with a strange calmness. Jessa had reluctantly settled into the carriage with Professor Fig, who’d been tasked with escorting her to Hogwarts. The day felt like any other, until the moment they crossed the border into the mountains.
It had been an hour since they left her family’s estate behind, and the scenery around them had shifted from soft, rolling hills to more jagged, daunting rocks. The silence in the air seemed strange, as if the land was holding its breath, waiting for something to happen.
"Is something wrong, Professor?" Jessa had asked, her voice cutting through the silence. She had been uneasy ever since they’d left, though she couldn’t pinpoint exactly why.
Professor Fig had seemed distracted, his usual calm demeanor slipping for just a moment. "Stay close, Jessa. We’re almost there."
But as the carriage rounded a sharp bend in the road, a deafening roar shattered the tranquility.
Jessa’s blood turned to ice. She turned to see a massive shape soaring through the sky—its wings beating the air with a force that rattled the very earth beneath them. A dragon. A real dragon. It was a sight from her dreams—not the comforting kind of dreams, but something else, something darker.
Before she could even react, the dragon swooped down, its massive claws tearing through the carriage. The world erupted into chaos as the creature's shriek filled the air, sending the horses into a wild frenzy. The carriage was tossed into the air like a toy.
In an instant, Professor Fig shouted an incantation, his wand raised, and the air hummed with magic. There was a flash of light, a brief, dizzying moment of weightlessness, and then—
A sudden jolt.
Jessa had braced herself for the worst. But when she opened her eyes, they were no longer hurtling through the air. She blinked rapidly, disoriented, trying to gather her bearings.
They were no longer in the carriage. Instead, they were in a narrow, dark space.
"Where... are we?" Jessa gasped, pushing herself up from the ground.
Professor Fig was already on his feet, scanning the area with a quick, practiced eye. "We’re safe, for now," he muttered. "It’s a Portkey."
"A Portkey?" Jessa echoed, confused. Her heart was still racing from the dragon attack, but she tried to steady herself, focusing on Professor Fig’s calm presence.
"Yes. A very old one," he explained, his voice tight. "We’re at Gringotts now. It’s the safest place to go in an emergency."
Jessa looked around. The dim, stone walls of the hidden tunnel flickered with the occasional torchlight. They weren’t in the open anymore—they had somehow been transported, magically, to a place deep underground. Gringotts.
But why here? Why had they used a Portkey in the first place? Wasn’t the dragon attack the reason they had to leave so suddenly?
Her mind raced with questions.
Before she could voice another one, Fig spoke again, his expression more serious than before.
"There’s something else you need to see. Something... important." His voice dropped to a near whisper. "It’s connected to that strange light you saw."
The mention of the light made Jessa’s pulse quicken. She had seen it, even before she’d touched the statue in her dream. That same flicker of light that had danced before her eyes in the quiet of the night. But here? In Gringotts?
The connection between the two places felt heavy. What was happening?
Fig led her deeper into the vault-like structure, his strides purposeful. They descended a set of winding stairs, past rows of towering marble columns and into an inner sanctum Jessa could never have imagined.
There, hidden among the golden treasures of the vault, was an ancient relic—a mirror, standing in the center of the room, framed with intricate symbols Jessa didn’t recognize. It shimmered faintly, reflecting light that Jessa couldn’t quite comprehend.
“That’s the source of the light,” Fig said quietly, his voice filled with both awe and apprehension. “I’m afraid it’s tied to you, Jessa.”
She felt a strange tug in her chest as she approached the mirror. Her reflection was distorted, almost as though the glass itself were alive—writhing and shifting in ways that made her heart race with fear.
"Why am I connected to this?" Jessa asked, her voice shaky.
“The magic in your blood is unique,” Fig replied, his voice heavy. “Your family has always been linked to powerful, ancient magics—magic that has been dormant for many years. But with your awakening... things are changing.”
The moment Jessa reached out to touch the mirror, the strange light flared up again. This time, it wasn’t a flicker—it was a beacon, bright and pulsing, calling to something inside her. Something she couldn’t explain.
Before she could react, a bright flash filled the room. And then, just as quickly as it had appeared, the light vanished.
Professor Fig looked at her, his eyes filled with a mix of concern and understanding. “We need to leave now. The Sorting Ceremony is already underway, and we can’t afford to delay.”
The Portkey had been activated again, sending them back to the grounds of Hogwarts.
________________________
Jessa is now standing in the great hall.
Jessa’s steps were tentative as she moved through the Great Hall. Her heart raced, her thoughts scattered in every direction as she made her way toward the Sorting Hat. She was supposed to be filled with excitement—after all, this was the start of a new chapter in her life—but instead, she felt lost, disconnected.
Her eyes flitted over the Gryffindor table. There, she spotted Valor, her older twin brother, sitting among his friends. He was smiling, laughing at something one of his classmates had said. But when he saw her walking toward the Sorting Hat, his expression shifted, and his gaze softened with concern. His smile faded, replaced by a look of apprehension, as if he could sense her unease. She hadn’t seen him in years, not truly. The brother she had known seemed so distant now, transformed by time and the life he’d led at Hogwarts. But seeing him there—alive, unchanged in some ways, yet so different in others—made her feel both comforted and unsettled at the same time.
She quickly turned her gaze away, focusing on the task ahead. The Sorting Hat. The future. There was no room for this confusion now.
Her eyes then swept over the Slytherin table, and she caught sight of Jace. He looked just like their mother—his striking green eyes were as bright and intense as ever, though now they seemed colder, guarded. He didn’t look particularly surprised to see her, but his gaze lingered just a moment longer than necessary. There was something almost unreadable in his expression. He hadn’t seen her awake in years, and while there was a flicker of recognition, he didn’t seem sure how to react. Jessa couldn’t bring herself to meet his eyes for long. The gap between them felt too vast now, like a line she wasn’t sure she could cross.
Beside Jace sat Vix, their older twin brother. She only ever seen them in photos but she recognized them. His eyes met hers briefly. A small, almost imperceptible smile tugged at the corner of his lips, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. There was a weariness in his gaze, a quiet sadness that spoke of unspoken things between them. It made Jessa’s chest tighten, the distance between her and her brothers suddenly feeling insurmountable.
Then her attention was drawn back to Valor, still sitting at the Gryffindor table. He had been watching her the whole time, and the concern in his gaze hadn’t faded. His brow was furrowed now, his face shadowed with an emotion she couldn’t name. She wasn’t sure if it was sympathy or something more protective, but his eyes lingered on her as if he was silently willing her to be okay.
Her heart hammered, the weight of all their gazes pressing down on her. They were here. They were all here. But somehow, it felt as if they were so far away. The twins she had once known—her closest allies, her equals—felt like strangers now, their faces more like shadows from a distant memory.
But it wasn’t just her brothers’ eyes that she could feel burning into her.
A sudden, piercing stare.
It wasn’t just a passing glance. It was intense, unwavering, as though it was drilling into her very soul. She couldn’t ignore it, no matter how hard she tried.
Her eyes scanned the Slytherin table again, and there he was—the boy with dark brown hair, a freckled face, and brown eyes that seemed to burn with curiosity. His gaze locked with hers, sharp and unyielding. He wasn’t smiling, not like the other students around him.
Who is he?
But it wasn’t just the way he looked at her. As soon as their eyes met, she felt it—a sudden, familiar sensation. The same sensation she had felt earlier, in her dream, and even when she had touched that statue after the dragon attack. It was like a pulse of light, something magical, ancient, running through her. A strange warmth that didn’t come from within but from outside her, as if something or someone was reaching for her, calling out to her in a way she couldn’t fully comprehend.
It was the same light.
She quickly turned her eyes forward, trying to ignore the strange feeling that twisted in her stomach. The boy’s stare lingered, though, even as she walked closer to the Sorting Hat.
The Sorting Hat settled upon her head, its voice immediately filling her thoughts.
*Ah... a mind as sharp as a blade, searching for truth and answers. You’ve seen much already, though not all of it. So much knowledge crammed into that head of yours, but what drives you is not just intellect. No… it’s a thirst for something deeper, something more elusive. A quest for understanding the very mysteries of the world.*
Jessa felt the Hat’s thoughts swirl around her, touching places in her mind she hadn’t even realized were there. A sense of confusion, a sense of something new, something lost, and yet, something found.
*Ravenclaw… yes, yes, that’s where you belong. Your mind, your thirst for knowledge—it’s not about the answers, it’s about the journey. You seek to unravel the secrets of this world, even if you don’t know all the questions yet.*
The voice in her mind quieted, and the Hat seemed to settle in place, its final decision made.
*Ravenclaw it is, then.*
The Great Hall erupted into loud applause, the sound like a roaring wave crashing against the walls. Jessa’s heart hammered in her chest, her ears ringing with the cheer of her new housemates and the rest of the students. It was overwhelming. For a moment, she couldn’t hear anything but the thundering applause surrounding her, a mix of joy, curiosity, and approval.
But then—she felt it again.
The burning stare.
Her gaze flicked back to the Slytherin table, and there he was again—the boy with dark brown hair, freckled face, and eyes that were fixed on her with that same intensity. As their eyes locked again, the sensation of that strange light flared inside her, almost making her dizzy. She didn’t know what to make of it, and she certainly didn’t understand why it seemed to draw her to him.
From the table next to hers, she overheard a whisper, soft but insistent, from a group of students.
“Did you see that? The **Valancaire**—with the blue eyes?” one of them murmured, voice full of intrigue.
“The blue eyes? That’s curious. I heard only the patriarch of the **Valancaire** line has those,” another voice said. “You don’t see them often at Hogwarts, do you?”
“Not often... but if she’s that one…” Another voice trailed off, leaving the words unfinished, but the tone was unmistakable: something about Jessa was unusual, exceptional. And Jessa, despite herself, felt a twinge of recognition, an eerie sensation that maybe—just maybe—this conversation was somehow tied to her.
Jessa couldn’t help but glance around, her heart picking up its pace. She could hear the whispers of her housemates, but these voices were different. These students weren’t just whispering about any ordinary student. No, they were talking about her—about the **Valancaire**. She was a **Valancaire**, but that one detail, her striking blue eyes, seemed to be the thing everyone was focusing on. Why were her eyes different from the others?
She’d never really questioned it before. The blue eyes. Everyone else in her family had green eyes—her brothers, her mother. But her father—she could still picture him in her mind. His strong face, his kind smile. And most importantly, his eyes. Those blue eyes, so much like her own, had always seemed so natural to her. They were hers. And they were his.
Her father had blue eyes—just like hers.
The legacy of the **Valancaire** patriarch. She had inherited that striking feature from him, a connection that seemed to run deep within their bloodline. She had never thought too much about it before—hadn’t even noticed it in the way others did. But now, in the midst of the murmurs and curious stares, she couldn’t ignore the fact that her eyes were what set her apart from the others. Her brothers had green eyes, like their mother’s. But Jessa’s blue eyes seemed to mark her as something different—something new, something exceptional.
The strange attention she was receiving only deepened the questions in her mind.
Was it her eyes that made her different? Or was there something else?
Her blue eyes. Her father’s legacy.
---
**As Jessa made her way to the Ravenclaw table, the applause still ringing in her ears, a sense of anticipation crept over her.** Her new housemates, many of them leaning forward with eager smiles, greeted her warmly as she approached.
“Welcome to Ravenclaw!” one of them called, a friendly voice among a sea of welcoming faces.
A tall girl with black hair and brown eyes waved her over. “We’ve been waiting for you. I’m **Samantha Dale**, by the way—don’t worry, we’ll help you get settled.” Her warm smile was genuine, and the energy around her felt calming.
Jessa smiled faintly, feeling a strange but comforting sense of belonging wash over her. It was a small relief in the midst of everything else. The rest of the table cheered, calling her
 name in encouragement as she took a seat, feeling for the first time like she might have found a place to belong. But in the back of her mind, the burning question about the dragon attack still lingered—what had it all meant? Was it connected to the strange light she felt today?