Chapter 3
As the sun began to dip low in the sky, casting warm golden hues over Diagon Alley, the group prepared to leave. Bags filled with supplies and a sense of anticipation for the coming days hung in the air. Harry gripped his new books, robes, and supplies, his heart lighter than it had been in months.
The twins lingered by the entrance of the Leaky Cauldron, their usual mischievous grins plastered on their faces. Jinx stood with them, her arms crossed and an amused smirk tugging at her lips.
“So, you’ll be there?” Fred asked, raising an eyebrow as he leaned against the wall.
“Of course,” Jinx replied, flipping a lock of hair over her shoulder. “I can’t let you two monopolize all the fun. Someone has to keep you in check.”
“Keep us in check?” George echoed, feigning shock. “That’s rich coming from someone who just told us about her ‘brilliant’ exploding ink experiment.”
Jinx shrugged nonchalantly. “What can I say? I like to leave an impression.”
The twins exchanged a look before Fred leaned closer, lowering his voice conspiratorially. “Alright, Jinx. Next week at the station, we’ll bring the fireworks-”
“And you bring the chaos,” George finished, his grin widening.
“You’ve got yourself a deal,” Jinx replied, shaking their hands with a mock-serious expression. “But don’t blame me when Sevvy starts breathing down your necks.”
“Us? Snape’s favourites?” Fred quipped with an exaggerated gasp. “Never.”
“Right,” Jinx said, rolling her eyes but laughing, nonetheless. “See you next week.”
“Don’t be late,” George added, as they both turned to leave, waving over their shoulders. “And don’t forget the fireworks!”
Jinx watched them go, her smirk softening into something resembling genuine fondness. She turned back toward the group, who were waiting by the door, Severus tapping his foot impatiently.
“Making plans to wreak havoc, are we?” Severus asked, his voice dry as he folded his arms.
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Jinx replied sweetly, brushing past him with an innocent smile.
Severus pinched the bridge of his nose again, muttering something under his breath about “misguided youth” as the group finally headed out. Harry caught the tail end of the exchange, a small smile playing on his lips. It felt good, he realized, to have people who cared, and to see Jinx, even with her sharp edges, finding her own connections.
Severus fell into step beside Arthur Weasley, the two men deep in conversation about magical innovations. Despite their differences, they found common ground in their shared interest in the merging of magical and non-magical techniques.
“I must admit,” Arthur said with a bright smile, “Jayce’s ideas on blending runes with Muggle engineering are fascinating. I’d love to hear more about his work.”
Severus gave a small, approving nod. “Jayce is a prodigy in his field. His expertise is-” He paused as Arthur glanced around, lowering his voice.
“Speaking of... news,” Arthur began cautiously, “I assume you’ve already heard about Sirius Black.”
Severus’s brow furrowed, his gaze sharp. “What about him?”
Arthur blinked, taken aback. “You haven’t heard? I thought everyone knew by now. Black’s escaped from Azkaban.”
The words hit Severus like a curse, his expression darkening instantly. “Escaped?” he repeated, his voice icy. “When?”
“A little over a month ago,” Arthur explained, his tone uneasy as he noted Severus’s reaction. “It’s all over the Daily Prophet. No one’s sure how he managed it. No one’s ever escaped Azkaban before. But they believe he’s after Harry.”
Severus stopped walking, his eyes narrowing dangerously. “Show me.”
Arthur hesitated before pulling a folded copy of the Prophet from his robes. He handed it to Severus, who unfolded it with a sharp snap of his wrist. The headline blared across the page: Sirius Black: Azkaban Escapee and Alleged Murderer on the Loose.
Severus’s jaw tightened as he scanned the article. Every detail, every theory about Black’s movements, every speculation about his intent, only fueled the storm brewing inside him. He despised Sirius Black with every fiber of his being. Black had been one of his worst tormentors, a constant reminder of his humiliation and pain during his school years. Worse, in Severus’s mind, Black had been complicit in Lily’s death. If not for his reckless behavior, Harry’s parents might still be alive.
And now Black was free.
Severus’s hands clenched the paper tightly, crumpling the edges. “That idiot,” he muttered under his breath. “Of course he would escape now, of all times.”
Arthur regarded him carefully. “I take it you have... history with Black?”
“You could say that,” Severus replied curtly. He handed the newspaper back in a sharp motion. “If what the Prophet says is true, then Harry is in far greater danger than we anticipated.”
Arthur nodded gravely. “The Ministry is doing everything it can to track him down, but... you know how these things go.”
“Too well,” Severus said darkly. He turned his attention to the group ahead, where Harry was chatting animatedly with Ron and Hermione, his face bright with happiness.
Severus’s chest tightened. He had vowed to protect the boy, no matter what. Now, with Sirius Black on the loose, that vow took on an even greater urgency. Severus’s fierce determination to keep Harry safe from past mistakes and betrayals rooted his hatred of Black, and it wasn’t merely personal.
As Arthur started to speak again, Severus interrupted, his voice low and firm. “Do not breathe a word of this to Harry. He has enough to worry about without adding Black to the list.”
Arthur hesitated, but eventually nodded. “Of course.”
Severus took a steadying breath, his mind already racing through strategies and precautions. He would protect Harry. No matter the cost.
As the group finally returned to Spinner’s End, the cozy yet slightly foreboding house seemed to welcome them with its familiar stillness. Harry, still riding the high of reconnecting with his friends at Diagon Alley, moved toward the kitchen with determined energy.
“I’ll make dinner tonight,” Harry announced, setting his bag of purchases by the door.
Severus arched an eyebrow, folding his arms. “You? Cooking? Are you sure?”
Harry gave a small shrug, avoiding Severus’s scrutinizing gaze. “I used to cook all the time... for the Dursleys. I don’t mind.”
Severus’s expression darkened momentarily at the mention of Harry’s relatives, but he said nothing. Instead, he gave a stiff nod. “Very well. Just don’t set the kitchen on fire.”
“I won’t,” Harry said, starting to work in the kitchen.
The others dispersed to various parts of the house. Jinx sprawled out on the sofa, flipping through one of the spell books she’d bought, her legs dangling over the armrest. Severus disappeared into his study, muttering about catching up on neglected correspondence. Jayce and Viktor, meanwhile, lingered in the sitting room, speaking in hushed tones as they unpacked a few items.
As Harry worked in the kitchen, the sound of chopping vegetables and the faint scent of spices filled the house. Slowly but surely, a sense of warmth and comfort settled over Spinner’s End, the kind that had been missing for far too long.
A modest but inviting meal had been set on the table by the time dinner was ready. Harry had prepared a simple stew, freshly baked bread from the bakery in Diagon Alley, and a small salad on the side. Everyone gathered around the table, their earlier weariness giving way to contentment as they ate.
“This is really good, Harry,” Jinx said between bites, her tone almost begrudging.
Harry ducked his head, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. “Thanks.”
Viktor, ever the man of few words, nodded in approval while Jayce gave Harry an enthusiastic thumbs-up. Even Severus, though he said nothing, gave a slight inclination of his head as he reached for another slice of bread.
After dinner, the group settled in for the night. Jinx commandeered the sofa, claiming it as her domain, while Harry retreated to his room to sift through his books and think over the day. Viktor and Jayce, however, lingered in the dimly lit sitting room.
Jayce stretched out on one of the armchairs, his legs hanging over the side as he tossed a ball of glowing runes between his hands. Viktor sat nearby, his posture relaxed but his gaze attentive, watching Jayce’s movements with quiet amusement.
“You’re going to break something,” Viktor said, his deep voice carrying a hint of teasing.
Jayce grinned, tossing the glowing ball into the air and catching it effortlessly. “Not a chance. I’ve got perfect control.”
“Is that so?” Viktor leaned forward slightly, a faint smirk playing on his lips. “What about last week, when you, ?”
“Alright, alright,” Jayce interrupted, laughing. “No need to bring up old accidents.”
Viktor chuckled softly, the sound rare but warm. For a moment, the room seemed to shrink, the world outside Spinner’s End fading into insignificance. Their gazes met, and an unspoken connection passed between them, stronger than words could convey.
Jayce broke the silence first, his voice soft but playful. “You know, you could try smiling more often. It looks good on you.”
Viktor raised an eyebrow but didn’t reply. Instead, he leaned back, his smirk deepening as he watched Jayce fumble to hide the growing flush on his face.
The moment lingered, sweet and fleeting, before they eventually retired to their respective rooms. Spinner’s End fell silent once more, the air filled with a sense of tentative peace as the household settled in for the night.
Severus opened a kitchen cupboard early one morning, searching for a jar of powdered asphodel, only to freeze when he found Jinx crouched inside, her legs tucked up and a book balanced on her knees.
“What... are you doing in there?” Severus’s voice was dangerously quiet, though the sheer confusion tempered his usual sharpness.
“Studying,” Jinx replied, as if it were the most obvious answer in the world. “It’s quiet in here. No distractions.”
Severus pinched the bridge of his nose and muttered something about “utter lunatics” before slamming the cupboard shut. “You’re insufferable,” he muttered, though there was a flicker of reluctant amusement in his tone as he walked away.
Harry sat at the small desk in his room, his quill scratching away at the parchment in front of him. His Potions essay was proving more tedious than expected, and his handwriting grew messier with each passing sentence.
Hedwig, perched on the windowsill, hooted softly.
Harry glanced up, smiling. “Don’t suppose you know anything about bezoars, do you?”
Hedwig tilted her head, as if considering it, before ruffling her feathers.
“Didn’t think so,” Harry said with a chuckle. He set the quill down, stretching his fingers. “I’m almost done, anyway.”
Hedwig hopped closer, nudging his arm with her beak.
“Alright, alright,” Harry said, reaching out to scratch her head. “You’re the best, you know that?”
Hedwig hooted again, preening under his touch.
Harry glanced back at his essay with a sigh. “Okay, back to it. Snape’s already scary enough without giving him an excuse to make my life miserable.”
Hedwig settled back onto the windowsill, watching him as he bent over his work again, her presence a comforting constant.
Harry entered the sitting room, yawning, only to yelp and jump back when he saw Jinx hanging upside down from a makeshift harness of enchanted ropes attached to the ceiling. A spell book was floating in front of her, pages flipping lazily as she read.
“Jinx! What are you doing?” Harry exclaimed, clutching his chest.
She glanced down, or rather, up at him, given her position, and smirked. “Better blood flow to the brain. Helps me concentrate.”
Harry shook his head, muttering under his breath as he carefully skirted around her to grab his bag. “You’re going to give someone a heart attack…”
“Not my fault, you scare easy,” Jinx called after him, chuckling as she flipped another page.
In the dim light of the sitting room, Jinx sat cross-legged on the worn rug, her expression uncharacteristically serious as Severus stood before her, holding his wand with practiced ease.
“Focus,” he said, his voice firm but not unkind. “A glamour is not merely an illusion; it must blend seamlessly with your natural features. Any hint of inconsistency, and it will draw more attention than what you are attempting to hide.”
Jinx tilted her head, her golden sclera catching the light in a way that made Severus’s point abundantly clear. “So, what you’re saying is, if I mess this up, I’ll look even freakier than I already do?”
“Precisely,” Severus deadpanned.
Jinx grinned, showing a hint of her sharp fangs. “No pressure then.”
Severus ignored the comment and continued, gesturing for her to take out her wand. “Start by visualizing what you want others to see. Your natural eyes, your normal skin tone, focus on the details.”
Jinx closed her eyes, her brow furrowing in concentration. A faint shimmer surrounded her as she muttered the incantation Severus had demonstrated earlier. When she opened her eyes, her white sclera had replaced the golden, the veins were gone, and her fangs were hidden.
Severus studied her critically. “Your work is acceptable for a first attempt, although your edges are a little blurred. Practice will refine it.”
Jinx touched her face, then grinned. “I look… normal.”
“Let’s not exaggerate,” Severus replied dryly.
Jinx chuckled. “Thanks, Sevvy. I owe you one.”
“You owe me nothing,” he said, turning away. “Except to ensure you don’t use this spell to further terrify the public.”
“Can’t promise anything,” Jinx quipped as she followed him out of the room.
Jayce nearly had a heart attack when he opened the door to Severus’s study, now functioning as an impromptu library. He stepped inside and found Jinx perched atop a bookshelf like some sort of predatory bird, surrounded by a halo of floating notes.
“Do you have to be up there?” Jayce asked, exasperated.
“Yes,” Jinx replied simply, scribbling something on a scrap of parchment. “Better vantage point.”
“For what?” Jayce demanded.
“Everything.”
Jayce sighed, shaking his head as he turned to leave. “You’re impossible.”
Viktor and Jayce had claimed the dining table at Spinner’s End for their planning sessions, which quickly became a battlefield of parchment, blueprints, and hastily scribbled notes. Jayce was sketching a complex diagram of a magical circuit on one corner of a large sheet, while Viktor meticulously wrote out lesson plans in neat, precise handwriting.
“This first lesson should cover the basics of rune theory and simple enchantment techniques,” Viktor said, tapping his quill against the parchment. “Then we can introduce practical applications with controlled experiments.”
Jayce leaned over, pointing at the diagram he’d just completed. “What about incorporating circuitry here? It’ll change to combine magic and engineering smoother later on.”
Viktor tilted his head thoughtfully. “Good idea. But we’ll need to simplify the explanations, especially for third-years.”
Severus entered the room, his robes sweeping behind him as he surveyed the chaos with a raised eyebrow. He folded his arms and cleared his throat. “And when, precisely, do you plan to address safety procedures?”
Jayce and Viktor looked up simultaneously, exchanging puzzled glances. “Safety procedures?” Jayce echoed, genuinely confused.
Severus’s expression darkened. “Yes. You are planning to teach magical engineering to a room full of thirteen to seventeen-year-olds. Children who, I might add, are prone to reckless behavior, poor impulse control, and an alarming tendency to touch things they shouldn’t. Surely you have considered that safety must be a priority.”
“Of course,” Viktor said quickly, though his tone was uncertain.
Jayce scratched the back of his neck. “Well… the equipment isn’t that dangerous. I mean, sure, if someone messes with an active rune matrix, it coul
“Explode,” Severus interjected coldly.
Jayce winced. “Uh, yeah. But that’s unlikely!”
“Unlikely,” Severus repeated flatly. “And what, pray tell, will you do when one of your students inevitably proves Murphy’s Law correct?”
Viktor frowned, looking down at his notes. “We… hadn’t thought about it like that.”
“You hadn’t thought about it at all,” Severus snapped. “If you wish to avoid sending half the student body to the Hospital Wing, or worse, you will draft a comprehensive safety lesson immediately. Including rules, emergency protocols, and a detailed demonstration of what not to do.”
Jayce leaned over to Viktor, muttering under his breath, “Do you think we could get away with making safety an entire week’s lesson?”
Viktor’s lips twitched faintly. “Might not be a bad idea.”
Severus’s glare sharpened. “You will make it the first lesson.”
Jayce held up his hands defensively. “First lesson it is! Got it, boss.”
Satisfied but still clearly irritated, Severus swept out of the room, muttering something about “irresponsible fools” and “fools teaching fools.”
Once he was gone, Jayce leaned back in his chair with a grin. “Well, at least we know he cares.”
Viktor gave him a pointed look. “We should probably take his advice seriously.”
Jayce sighed. “Fine. But if the safety lesson puts the kids to sleep, you’re the one waking them up.”
Viktor smirked. “Deal.”
Late one night, Viktor wandered into the kitchen for a glass of water, only to turn and see a pair of glowing gold and purple eyes staring at him from the darkened corner of the room.
“Jinx,” he said flatly, setting the glass down with exaggerated care. “What are you doing?”
“Testing night-vision enchantments,” she replied, stepping into the faint light from the hallway. “Pretty good, right?”
Viktor gave her a long look, then turned and walked back out. “I’m going back to bed.”
“Coward,” Jinx called after him with a laugh.
Severus strode into the sitting room one evening, only to stop dead as the curtains rustled violently. He frowned, his wand already in hand, when a familiar voice piped up.
“Don’t curse me! It’s just me!”
Jinx stuck her head out from between the folds of the fabric, looking entirely unapologetic. “Good light here. Perfect for reading.”
Severus stared at her for a long moment, his patience visibly fraying. “You are the bane of my existence.”
“Glad to be of service,” Jinx replied cheerfully.
The morning air was crisp as the group gathered at the front door, luggage piled high. Harry adjusted his glasses, a small thrill of excitement coursing through him despite himself.
“Everyone ready?” Severus asked, his voice cutting through the chatter.
Jinx emerged from the kitchen, an apple in one hand and her wand tucked behind her ear. “Ready as I’ll ever be,” she said, throwing her bag over her shoulder.
Viktor and Jayce were double-checking their own luggage. Jayce grinned as he caught Harry’s eye. “Excited for another year?”
Harry nodded, his smile hesitant but genuine. “Yeah. It’ll be nice to see everyone again.”
Severus waved his wand, and the bags floated ahead of them. “Let’s move. The train won’t wait for our delays.”
As they stepped out into the brisk morning, Jinx leaned closer to Harry. “Bet you five galleons the twins have already started planning something ridiculous for the train ride.”
Harry laughed softly. “I’m not betting against that. I bet you’ve already planned something to happen on the train.”
Together, they made their way down the street, the anticipation of the new school year settling over them like a familiar blanket.