Chapter 5
The trio sat in the compartment, the silence heavy as they processed the events that had just unfolded. The warmth from the chocolate was beginning to return some color to Harry’s face, but the memory of the cold, oppressive presence lingered in the back of his mind.
Suddenly, the door to the compartment slid open again, and a girl stood in the doorway. She looked to be about their age, maybe a little younger, with waist-length, dirty-blonde hair that was slightly tangled, as though she had just walked through a windstorm. Her large, silvery-grey eyes were dreamy and unfocused, as if she were looking at something just beyond the visible. She wore her Hogwarts robes, though they seemed slightly dishevelled, and around her neck hung a curious necklace made of what looked like butterbeer caps. In one hand, she held a copy of The Quibbler, the cover upside down.
The girl tilted her head as she stared at Harry, her expression one of mild curiosity. “You’ve got an awful lot of Wrackspurts around you,” she said in a sing-song voice, stepping into the compartment without invitation. “They’re swarming all over your head. Must be terribly distracting.”
Harry blinked, surprised. “Wrack, what?”
“Wrackspurts,” she repeated, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. She plopped herself into the seat across from Harry, tucking her legs up underneath her as she regarded him with wide, unblinking eyes. “They’re invisible, of course, but they tend to congregate around people who’ve had strong, muddled thoughts. They make your brain go all fuzzy.” She waved a hand vaguely around Harry’s head, as though shooing away a swarm of insects.
Ron looked at her as though she’d sprouted an extra head. “Uh... right. Wrackspurts. Of course.”
The girl turned her gaze to Ron, her expression completely unbothered by his tone. “They’re very real, you know. But you don’t need to worry, they usually clear up on their own. Unless they decide to nest, of course.”
Hermione, ever the pragmatist, frowned. “Nest?”
“Oh, yes,” the girl replied airily. “They burrow into your ears and make your thoughts all scrambled. But it doesn’t happen very often. You’re probably safe.”
Harry exchanged a bewildered look with Ron and Hermione. “Er... thanks, I guess?”
Luna tilted her head to the side, her silvery eyes focused on Harry with an intensity that felt both strange and oddly comforting. “Do you mind if I join you?” she asked, her voice soft and melodic. “The other compartments are far too noisy.”
The trio exchanged a glance, silently agreeing that refusing her felt impossible, even if they didn’t entirely understand her. “Sure,” Harry said, scooting over a bit. “Go ahead.”
Luna’s dreamy smile widened, and she slid into the seat next to Harry, her movements fluid and unhurried. As she settled in, her gaze lingered on him, and she spoke again in that same sing-song tone. “Thank you, Phoenix.”
“Phoenix?” Harry repeated, blinking in confusion. “What?”
“Oh, yes,” Luna said matter-of-factly, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. “You have a phoenix’s aura. Fierce and warm, but... a little sad, too. Like you’ve burned and risen again. Don’t you feel it?”
Harry stared at her, his brow furrowed. “I’m... not sure I know what you mean.”
“That’s all right,” Luna said, patting his arm gently. “You don’t have to understand it now. You will when the time is right.”
Ron gave Hermione a look that clearly said, What on earth is she talking about? Hermione, for her part, appeared to be studying Luna with cautious curiosity. Her brow creased in thought.
Harry, unsure how to respond, decided to change the subject. “So, uh, you’re in Ravenclaw?” he asked.
Luna nodded, twirling a strand of her long hair around her finger. “Yes. It’s a lovely house. Lots of books and interesting people. Though some of them think I’m strange. But I don’t mind. Strange is good, don’t you think?”
“Yeah,” Harry said, offering her a small smile. “I think strange is good.”
Ron muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like, That’s one word for it, but Harry ignored him. Luna leaned back in her seat, her wide eyes drifting to the window as the countryside blurred past.
“You have interesting friends,” she blurted, her gaze flicking to Ron and Hermione. “They’re loyal. That’s important.”
Hermione blinked, looking both flattered and surprised. “Uh, thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” Luna replied serenely. Then, as if the conversation were over, she pulled out her copy of The Quibbler, still upside dow, and began reading, leaving the trio to exchange bewildered looks once again.
Harry leaned back in his seat, his mind swirling with questions. He didn’t know what to make of Luna or her strange comments about phoenixes and auras, but something about her presence felt... reassuring. Almost as if she belonged there, even if it didn’t quite make sense yet.
On the other end of the train, in a quiet compartment, Fred and George Weasley were setting up a few of their latest joke items. Neville sat near the window, looking disheveled, his wand in hand as he searched for his lost frog again. Across from them, Jinx sat curled up in the corner, her hands clenched into tight fists in her lap.
Neville had just found his frog again, uncharitably returned by Jinx, who held it out to him with a small, strange smile.
“I, uh, thanks,” Neville mumbled, blinking up at her in surprise. “You... didn’t have to.”
Jinx didn’t respond right away. Her gaze was distant, eyes unfocused, as she stared at the small creature in Neville’s hands. The corner of her mouth twitched, but it wasn’t a smile.
“Jinx?” Fred asked cautiously, noticing how her fingers trembled where they gripped her knees. George exchanged a worried glance with his twin.
Jinx didn’t answer right away. Her eyes darted around the compartment, as if searching for something that wasn’t there. Her chest rose and fell in shallow, rapid breaths, hands still clenched. The remnants of the mental breakdown that had taken hold after the encounter with the dementors, the shadows creeping in, were beginning to surface.
Fred leaned forward. “Hey... you okay?”
Jinx blinked at him, her usual sharp edge replaced by something more fragile. Her voice was thin, trembling beneath the layers of tension. “I feel... hollow.” Her eyes glazed over, as if she wasn’t truly present in the room with them.
George sat down beside her, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Jinx... look at us. Breathe.”
She didn’t respond, just stared through him, the room shifting around her. Fred shot a glance at Neville, who looked worried but unsure what to do.
“You don’t have to pretend you’re okay,” George said gently, his voice soft. “Whatever’s in your head right now... it’s okay to let it out.”
Jinx shook her head slightly, a bitter laugh escaping her lips. “I don’t know what’s real anymore.” Her voice quivered. “I see things, hear things. The shadows... they talk.”
Fred exchanged another glance with George, their usual playful demeanor replaced with quiet concern.
Neville shifted uneasily in his seat, looking torn between sympathy and fear. “You, uh, ever talked to anyone about that? Like a teacher or... someone?”
“I can’t trust anyone,” Jinx whispered, tears gathering in the corners of her eyes. “Every time I try, they leave... or they hurt me. I can’t-”
George squeezed her shoulder, his voice firm but compassionate. “You don’t have to deal with this alone.”
Jinx’s fingers dug into her thighs, her nails biting into her skin. “It’s not just the noise, the visions, it’s feeling... too much. Too much all the time. Like I’m split, fractured.” Her eyes burned with unshed tears. “Like I’m walking a line, and one step in either direction, and I’ll fall apart.”
Fred leaned closer, his eyes filled with empathy. “Jinx, listen to me. We’re here. We’re not going anywhere.”
She shook her head again, almost violently. “It’s not that easy. It’s inside me, in my head.” Her voice broke. “Sometimes I feel like I don’t even know who I am.”
Fred and George exchanged confused glances as the door to their compartment suddenly opened. Standing in the doorway was none other than Draco Malfoy, his pale blond hair catching the light as his icy gray eyes flicked over the group. When they landed on Jinx, his expression shifted, uncertain, almost cautious, but still carrying that unmistakable Malfoy sneer.
Jinx, still curled in on herself, didn’t seem to notice him immediately. The sound of the door creaking open had her flinch, but she didn’t lift her gaze.
Malfoy stood there for a moment, eyeing her with a mix of curiosity and something else. Sympathy, maybe? It was hard to tell with Malfoy. His gaze flickered to Fred and George, who were staring at him in surprise.
“Er, here,” Draco said, his tone clipped, though there was an odd hesitation in his voice. He held out a bar of chocolate toward Jinx, a rare gesture of kindness, or perhaps just an attempt to placate her. Fred couldn’t tell.
Jinx’s eyes lifted slightly, still distant, but her fingers reflexively reached out and took the chocolate. She didn’t say anything, merely stared at it in her hand. Her lips parted to speak, but the words stuck in her throat. Instead, she just nodded faintly, too exhausted to respond in any other way.
Draco took a breath, his eyes darting around the compartment again as if he was searching for an escape. “Uh, well... you know, I just... thought you might need this.” He cleared his throat and looked away, as if it was nothing. “Don’t get any ideas, though. I’m not your friend.”
Fred and George stood, both blinking in disbelief. Fred narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “Since when do you care about anything but yourself, Malfoy?”
Malfoy’s lips twisted into an almost imperceptible grimace. “I don’t,” he muttered quickly, stepping back. “It’s just... chocolate. Anyway, I, uh, gotta go.” He turned and left just as quickly as he had appeared, leaving the door swinging behind him.
The three Gryffindors sat in stunned silence. Jinx, for a fleeting moment, seemed to gather herself, as if the strange, unexpected gesture from Malfoy had momentarily grounded her. She broke off a small piece of the chocolate, her hands trembling only slightly as she ate it in silence.
Fred finally spoke, breaking the silence. “Well, that was odd. What do you think that was about?”
George ran a hand through his hair, equally perplexed. “It’s not like Malfoy to do something... decent. Either he’s up to something, or something’s seriously wrong with him.”
“I don’t know,” Neville spoke up from where he was fiddling with his frog, glancing nervously at the door. “But I guess we can’t expect the worst from everyone.”
The room was quiet again for a moment, the strange, unspoken tension lingering after Malfoy’s brief appearance.
Jinx looked up at them, the chocolate working its magic to settle her nerves. “I’m... sorry,” she whispered, voice cracking just a little. “I didn’t mean to make things... awkward.”
Fred, without hesitation, shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. We’ve all got our battles.”
George agreed, nodding firmly. “And you’ve got us, Jinx. Whatever’s going on inside, you don’t have to deal with it alone.”
Jinx swallowed hard, the weight of their words pressing gently against her. It wasn’t much, but it was enough for now.
Just as they all settled into the uneasy comfort of each other’s presence, the train’s engine let out a soft whistle, signaling the journey’s continuation. They had time to think, time to breathe, and time to figure out the next chapter of their lives.
Back with the others. After a few minutes of silence, punctuated only by the faint rustling of The Quibbler in Luna’s hands, the train gave a lurch and began to move again. The rhythmic clatter of wheels on the track filled the compartment, bringing a sense of normalcy back into the air.
Harry let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “Well, that was... something,” he muttered, glancing out the window as the rain-slicked countryside rolled by.
“Something terrifying,” Ron corrected, shivering slightly. He pulled his jacket tighter around himself. “What were those things? And why did it go straight for you, Harry?”
“I don’t know,” Harry admitted, his hand brushing against the bar of chocolate the man had left behind. “The man said they were Dementors. Whatever they are, they’re... awful.”
“They feed on fear and despair,” Hermione said quietly, her expression unusually grave. “I’ve read about them. They guard Azkaban.”
“Azkaban?” Ron repeated, his eyes widening. “Why would something like that be on a train full of kids?”
“I don’t know,” Hermione said, shaking her head. “But it must have something to do with Sirius Black.”
At the mention of Sirius Black, Harry felt a chill run down his spine. He glanced at Hermione, then at Ron, but before he could say anything, Luna spoke up.
“They were searching for something,” she said dreamily, her gaze still fixed on the window. “Or someone.”
Harry frowned. “What do you mean?”
Luna turned her head to look at him, her silver eyes unnervingly calm. “They don’t just wander, you know. They have a purpose. Whatever it is, I don’t think it’s over yet.”
The compartment fell silent again as her words hung in the air. The faint hum of the train’s engine and the soft patter of rain against the windows were the only sounds.
“Well, that’s comforting,” Ron muttered, breaking the tension. “Good to know the nightmare creatures might make a comeback.”
Harry couldn’t help but chuckle despite himself. “Let’s just hope they don’t.”
The train chugged steadily onward, carrying them closer to Hogwarts, and whatever awaited them there.
After a while, the train slowed to a stop at Hogsmeade Station, and Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Luna joined the throng of students spilling out onto the platform. The air was cool and crisp, the remnants of rain from earlier leaving a damp, earthy scent in the air. Lanterns lit the path to the waiting carriages that would carry them to the castle.
As they approached the carriages, Harry froze, his eyes fixed on the creatures pulling them. Black, skeletal horses with leathery bat-like wings stood eerily still, their blank white eyes staring into nothingness. Their presence sent a shiver down his spine.
“What... what are those?” Harry asked, his voice low and uncertain as he pointed at the creatures.
Ron and Hermione exchanged a puzzled look before turning their attention back to Harry. “What are what?” Ron asked, squinting at the space in front of the carriages. “There’s nothing there, mate. The carriages move on their own.”
Harry blinked, confused. “No, they’re not. They’re being pulled by... those... things.” He gestured again, but neither Ron nor Hermione reacted.
“I can see them too,” Luna said serenely, stepping up beside Harry. She gazed at the skeletal horses with a dreamy smile, as though their unsettling appearance didn’t bother her in the slightest. “They’re Thestrals. Beautiful, aren’t they?”
“Thestrals?” Harry repeated, his brow furrowing. He took a step closer to the nearest one, its bony head turning slightly as if acknowledging his presence. “Why can we see them and they can’t?”
Luna tilted her head, her silver eyes shining with an odd mixture of sadness and understanding. “You can only see Thestrals if you’ve seen someone die.”
Harry felt a cold weight settle in his chest at her words.
“Oh,” Harry said softly, unable to say more.
“Wait,” Ron interjected, his voice tinged with alarm. “Seen someone die? Harry, you’ve...?”
Harry cut him off with a shake of his head, not ready to discuss it. Instead, he looked back at the Thestrals, the creatures somehow less frightening now. There was quiet intelligence in their empty eyes, a calmness that seemed to reassure him.
“They’re not dangerous,” Luna said gently, as if sensing his unease. “They’re very clever and loyal.”
Hermione glanced between Harry and Luna, her expression full of questions she clearly wanted to ask but didn’t. Instead, she simply placed a hand on Harry’s arm and squeezed gently.
“Come on,” she breathed. “Let’s get to the castle.”
The group was just settling into the carriage, Luna humming softly to herself, when a familiar drawl interrupted their moment of quiet.
“Great. Just my luck,” Draco Malfoy muttered as he appeared at the door of their carriage, his pale face twisted into a scowl. “All the others are full, and I’m not waiting for another trip.”
Harry exchanged a glance with Ron, whose jaw tightened, and Hermione, who sighed heavily.
“Brilliant,” Ron muttered under his breath, crossing his arms.
“You’re welcome to find another solution, Malfoy,” Hermione said sharply, though there was a resigned tone to her voice.
Malfoy rolled his eyes and climbed in without waiting for further invitation, dropping onto the seat opposite Harry and next to Luna. “Don’t flatter yourselves. I’m not thrilled about it either.”
Luna greeted him with a bright smile, completely unfazed by his sour demeanor. “Hello, Draco. Have you seen the Thestrals? They’re really quite remarkable.”
Malfoy blinked at her, surprised. “What? Thestrals?” His gaze darted to Harry and then out of the carriage, his expression becoming skeptical. “What are you on about, Lovegood? There’s nothing there.”
Harry and Luna exchanged a look, and Luna tilted her head, studying Malfoy curiously. “You can’t see them?” she asked, her tone genuinely inquisitive rather than mocking.
Malfoy’s brow furrowed, and he shifted uncomfortably. “Why would I want to see something that doesn’t exist?”
Luna didn’t press further, her attention returning to the view outside the window as the carriage began to move.
The ride to the castle was unusually tense, the air thick with unspoken words. Ron kept shooting glares at Malfoy, who pretended not to notice, while Hermione seemed determined to focus on the scenery, her lips pressed into a thin line.
Malfoy, for his part, looked restless, occasionally stealing glances at Harry as if trying to read his thoughts.
Harry leaned back, his mind still lingering on the Thestrals and Luna’s matter-of-fact explanation. He didn’t miss the way Malfoy seemed slightly out of his element, his usual bravado muted. For once, Harry couldn’t find it in himself to care.
As the castle loomed closer, its lights glowing warmly against the evening sky, the tension in the carriage eased ever so slightly. They were almost home.
It’s not long before the carriages came to a halt in front of the grand castle, its warm glow cutting through the cool evening air. As Harry climbed out, the familiar sight of Hogwarts brought a wave of comfort, until he saw two tall figures waiting just outside the main doors.
Jayce and Viktor.
The moment Jayce spotted Harry, he hurried over with Viktor close behind, his face etched with worry.
“Harry! Are you alright? We heard you fainted!” Jayce said, placing a steadying hand on Harry’s shoulder and giving him a quick once-over. Viktor crouched slightly, scanning Harry with a furrowed brow.
“I am fine,” Harry assured them, feeling a little embarrassed under their scrutiny. “Really, it wasn’t that bad.”
“Fainting isn’t nothing, Harry,” Viktor said, his tone stern but laced with concern. “What happened?”
Before Harry could answer, Hermione stepped forward, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “It was a Dementor. One boarded the train and... well, Harry fainted. The rest of us felt it too, but it was worse for him.”
“A Dementor?” Viktor’s eyes narrowed sharply. He exchanged a troubled look with Jayce. “They shouldn’t be anywhere near students.”
“Agreed,” Jayce muttered, his jaw tight. He crouched slightly to meet Harry’s eyes. “Are you sure you’re alright now? You’re not dizzy? Cold?”
“I’m fine,” Harry repeated, feeling a twinge of guilt at how worried they looked.
Malfoy, who had been lingering near the group, stepped aside, his expression caught somewhere between confusion and disdain. “Who are they?” he finally asked, looking at Jayce and Viktor like they were some bizarre new species.
“They’re new professors,” Hermione answered without turning to him, still focused on Harry.
“New professors,” Malfoy repeated skeptically, crossing his arms. “Since when do professors fuss over Potter like mother hens?”
Ron snorted, muttering, “Jealous much?” under his breath, though Malfoy ignored him.
Jayce straightened, finally taking notice of Malfoy. His expression turned cool and unreadable. “And you are?”
“Draco Malfoy,” he replied with a practiced arrogance, his chin lifting slightly.
“Well, Draco,” Jayce said with a faint, sarcastic smile, “if you’re done loitering, perhaps you can go inside and mind your own business.”
Malfoy’s face darkened, but he said nothing, brushing past the group and heading toward the entrance.
“Charming,” Jayce muttered, watching him go.
Viktor shook his head, turning his attention back to Harry. “Let’s get you inside. You need to rest after that.”
Harry didn’t bother protesting again. Instead, he let the ushers guide him toward the castle, Hermione and Ron following with equally concerned looks. For all the embarrassment of being fussed over, Harry couldn’t deny that it felt... nice to have someone care.
As they made their way inside, Jayce and Viktor continued to hover around Harry, though they finally relented when they reached the grand doors to the Great Hall. The chatter of students, along with the soft hum of anticipation, filled the air. As Harry entered, he couldn’t help but feel a surge of familiarity, the same warm glow from the enchanted ceiling, the same long tables stretching toward the staff dais.
Looking around, he saw Jinx walking with the twins and Harry could tell by the way she moved that she wasn’t exactly comfortable being the center of attention. Her gaze flicked around, scanning the room, before she finally settled beside him. He hurried over to her.
“Don’t worry,” Harry whispered, offering a small smile. “It’ll be over before you know it.”
Jinx nodded tightly, though her eyes were more focused on the students already seated at the tables.
They took their places at the table, and the Sorting Hat ceremony began as usual. The first years filed up, one by one, to be sorted into their respective houses. The hat announced names, and it assigned the students to houses, to cheers or murmurs of surprise. Harry’s attention was mostly on the ceremony, though he occasionally glanced at Jinx, who seemed to be quietly observing everything. Her posture tense.
Finally, as the last of the first years sat down, Dumbledore stood and cleared his throat, raising his hands to silence the room.
“Before we begin the feast,” he announced, his voice carrying across the hall, “we have one more student to sort. A new transfer to Hogwarts, in fact. I would like to introduce Jinx Snape, a fifth-year student who will be joining us this year.”
A ripple of surprise passed through the students. A transfer? And a fifth-year? Harry’s curiosity piqued, and he saw Jinx stiffen, clearly not expecting this public display. Her golden eyes met his briefly, and she offered a faint, almost resigned smile before stepping forward.
Dumbledore gestured to the hat, and the room quieted further. “Jinx, if you would, please.”
Jinx stepped forward, her movements graceful, but there was a slight hesitation in the way she approached the Sorting Hat. She looked at it curiously, though there was no sign of fear or excitement on her face, only a quiet resolve.
They placed the Sorting Hat atop her head, and for a moment, everything went silent. Harry could almost feel the weight of the moment as the hall held its breath, waiting for the decision.
Finally, the Sorting Hat gave a grunt of acknowledgment before whispering, “Hmm... difficult, but you have your own fire, don’t you? This will be interesting...”
Jinx, however, didn’t seem to show any visible signs of discomfort, even though the entire hall was watching her with great interest. Harry could feel the tension in the room, but he wasn’t sure if it was because of Jinx’s unusual nature or the fact that she was an older student coming in unexpectedly.
With a small, almost imperceptible smile, Jinx waited for the Sorting Hat to make its decision, her posture calm but poised for whatever came next.