The Hogwarts Express rolled down the tracks, its rhythmic chugging the soundtrack to the start of another year. Inside a cozy compartment, Harry, Hermione, Jean, Ron, and Susan were settled in, their bags strewn across the overhead racks like they were claiming territory on an ancient battlefield. The plush seats felt like thrones—well, except for the fact that none of them were remotely regal, but they certainly made plopping into them feel important.
Hermione, as usual, was practically vibrating with excitement. She had a look on her face that could only mean one thing: she was about to interrogate her friends like they were all criminals being questioned about their summer activities. "Okay," she said, practically bouncing in her seat, "spill the beans! What wild, magical adventures did you all get up to this summer?"
Harry leaned back, glancing at Ron, who was already grinning like someone who'd just had a load of marshmallows launched at him. Jean—who was just as much of a summer mischief-maker as the rest—looked at Harry with an eyebrow arched in that I'm-not-giving-anything-away-yet way. But it was Susan who stole the spotlight.
Susan's face suddenly lit up like a Christmas tree, the kind of look you get when you remember where you hid your favorite snack. "Oh wait!" she said, bouncing to her feet. "I just remembered—Hannah's on this train too!" She practically leapt out of her seat like someone had announced free Butterbeer on board. "I'll go fetch her. She'll love hanging out with us."
The rest of the group exchanged amused glances. They all knew Susan's enthusiasm was contagious, and when she got going, there was no stopping her. Jean gave Harry a look that said Here we go again before they all got comfortable and waited for Susan's whirlwind return.
True to form, Susan reappeared in a flash, dragging a reluctant Hannah Abbott with her, who was looking rather surprised but equally cheerful. "Look who I found!" Susan exclaimed, her grin practically glowing. "It's Hannah! She's joining our party!"
Hannah, looking like she'd just wandered into the world's friendliest mob, smiled widely. She was the kind of person who just made you feel at ease the moment she spoke, all warmth and easy-going charm, like a Hufflepuff walking sunshine. "Hey, everyone! Thanks for letting me join the fun, Susan," she said, her voice as bright as her smile.
"Of course, Hannah!" Hermione said, scooting over to make room, her tone warm and inviting. "We're thrilled to have you."
"Yeah, welcome to the madness," Ron added, his voice so sarcastic you almost had to wonder if he was joking—or if he was secretly worried that this year would be the really crazy one. You know, the kind where you might end up turning into a giant or stuck in a time loop. But that was just Ron.
With Hannah settled in, the group's conversation kicked into high gear.
Everyone had their own way of jumping into the action. Ron, of course, started telling his usual tall tales about how he'd narrowly avoided being eaten by a herd of wild something-or-other in the woods, which was completely unsubstantiated and highly questionable, but it was Ron, so nobody doubted it for long. Jean, who wasn't one to sit quietly, tossed in her two Knuts, flashing a sly grin. "You know, I found the perfect perfect spell to annoy the hell out of Filch last summer. Not that I'm planning on using it anytime soon," she added with mock innocence. Harry could practically hear the unspoken wink-wink.
Hermione, of course, was halfway through lecturing them on the importance of not spending the summer concocting elaborate pranks when she noticed Harry's smile. She narrowed her eyes, hands on hips. "You're not planning something already, are you?"
Harry just shrugged, looking like the cat who got the cream. "What? Me? Nah. Just enjoying the ride." Which was mostly true, except for the part where he was already thinking about what kind of prank could work with the Hogwarts Express itself. (He'd been brainstorming all summer.)
Susan, in the meantime, was organizing a rather spirited debate on which magical creatures had the best personalities. (Spoiler: it was a draw between centaurs and nifflers, but she had a definite bias toward nifflers because they were "just so darn cute.") She leaned in and said to Ron, "I still don't get how you can not love niffler babies. They're adorable!"
Ron made a face, looking like someone had asked him to pet a very large, very angry broomstick. "I don't not like them," he said, with a small, grudging smile. "I just think they look like trouble. Little furry troublemakers, if you ask me."
Susan rolled her eyes, as though Ron's skepticism were an old, familiar joke. "Oh please, Ron. You're just jealous because they're cuter than you."
Ron shot her a mock glare, then leaned back in his seat, arms crossed. "Yeah, well, at least I'm not the one who gets dragged into every new plan without asking questions."
Hannah, still adjusting to the whirlwind dynamics of her new friends, chimed in with a laugh. "Hey, we need all the help we can get to keep up with Susan's energy. I'm just here for the ride, honestly."
The train sped on, and the chatter continued like an unstoppable tide. Stories of summer adventures, ideas for the upcoming year, and plans for pranks filled the air, each person adding their own spark to the conversation. It was like the Hogwarts Express wasn't just a train—it was a mobile incubator for chaos and joy. And as the miles ticked by, Harry couldn't help but think that, no matter how much trouble lay ahead, this group of friends would be right there beside him, ready to face it all.
The Hogwarts Express was more than just a way to get to school—it was the beginning of another adventure, and Harry was all in.
—
Harry was feeling a sudden need to be dramatic. You know, just because it was a perfectly normal train ride to Hogwarts. He jumped to his feet, struck a pose that would've made any knight-in-shining-armor jealous, and announced with full-on melodrama, "Ladies and gentlemen, I hereby call to order the inaugural meeting of... MageX!"
The compartment went suspiciously quiet. Hermione, of course, was already holding back a laugh with the kind of concentration that could've rivaled Dumbledore's. Jean raised an eyebrow, the look on her face a mix of amusement and slight concern—as though she was trying to predict what Harry was about to do next. Ron was looking at Harry like he'd just declared himself the King of the Giant Squids.
Hannah, who'd just joined them after a hasty introduction by Susan, blinked in confusion. "MageX? What's that?"
Harry leaned in with the gravity of someone who had just cracked the code of the universe. "Ah, welcome, Hannah," he said, wagging a finger like he was about to drop some serious knowledge. "MageX is the ultimate society of magical mutants. We've got powers, we've got style, and we've got so many dangerous adventures to look forward to. Think X-Men, but with more wands and less spandex."
Ron and Hermione exchanged a look like they'd seen this before. Jean just sighed dramatically, though there was a small smirk playing on her lips.
Susan, ever the helpful one, leaned forward and explained, "It's true. We got a bit, well, 'enhanced' this summer. Jean's the one who introduced us to the idea—remember how we were talking about magic and mutant powers?"
Hannah's eyes practically bugged out as the realization hit her. She turned to Jean as if she were standing in the presence of a superhero. "Wait, you... you're one of them?"
Jean, flashing that trademark smirk, shrugged casually. "Yep. Part of the club now, Hannah. Welcome to MageX."
The whole compartment filled with excited murmurs and giggles, which Harry took as his cue to bring out the big guns. He threw his arms wide and added, "And because you're now officially part of the coolest group in Hogwarts history, I'm going to make you all honorary members. I'm talking about real membership, complete with epic missions and magical shenanigans."
Ron, whose brain had already shifted from "slightly worried" to "actually interested," piped up, "And maybe a secret handshake?" His grin was infectious.
"Of course," Harry said, rolling with it. "There'll definitely be a handshake. Something involving a little bit of flair, maybe a dramatic flourish. We'll work on it."
Hannah beamed. "I'm in."
"Alright!" Harry said, now fully leader-mode, practically glowing with the power of someone who watches way too many spy movies. "Let's get down to the most important business: picking codenames!"
Hermione, who looked like she was about to burst into applause, practically bounced in her seat. "Codenames! I love it!"
Jean raised an eyebrow, looking around the group with amusement. "This sounds like it could get ridiculous."
"Of course it will," Harry grinned. "And that's the point!"
Susan was first to chime in, already knowing the drill. "Well, I've got mine. I'm Veritas—you know, 'truth'—because I always make sure you guys don't get too carried away with your brilliant plans."
Ron leaned forward, rubbing his hands together as though he was about to launch into a truly epic brainstorming session. "Alright, then, how about 'Redbolt' for me? Like... red lightning, fast and a little bit dangerous, right?" He looked around for approval.
Jean nodded. "I can see it. Redbolt has a certain... zap to it."
Hermione, already deep in thought, leaned back and considered her options. "How about... Sage? You know, wisdom, intelligence—stuff like that."
"I like it," Ron agreed. "It's got the right vibe. Makes you sound like you're about to drop some ancient wisdom on us at any moment."
"Perfect," Hermione said, clearly pleased with herself.
Hannah, now seriously considering her codename, turned it over in her mind. "How about... Ember? Like, warm and bright but with the potential to... you know, burn things down if needed?"
"That's brilliant!" Susan exclaimed. "You're definitely the spark in this group."
"Ember it is," Hannah said with a smile, clearly pleased.
"Alright, now that we're all official," Harry said, standing up and doing an imaginary salute. "Redbolt, Sage, Ember, welcome to MageX. Together, we'll make Hogwarts safer, and have fun while we're at it. And by 'fun,' I mean some seriously cool pranks."
The group exchanged excited glances. This was, apparently, going to be the year they went full-throttle on magical chaos.
Ron rubbed his hands together. "Pranks? What kind of pranks are we talking about?"
Harry leaned in with a gleam in his eye. "Alright, imagine this: The suits of armor in the Great Hall—we make them dance."
"Dance?" Hermione repeated, her eyes narrowing with the suspicion that Harry's idea might be a bit too much.
"Yes! But wait—here's the kicker," Harry continued. "We make them sing in drag while they do it."
The group went silent for a moment, processing the idea. Then, Ron broke the silence by cackling. "Filch's face will be priceless!"
Hermione put her hand to her forehead. "We'll probably get detention for that."
"You're missing the point, Hermione," Harry grinned. "This is about making Hogwarts fun again."
Hannah laughed. "It sounds harmless enough. And I've always wanted to see a suit of armor in a dress."
"I'm sold," Susan added. "This is going to be legendary."
"Okay, okay," Hermione relented with a resigned smile. "But only because it'll be hilarious."
"Perfect," Harry said, sitting back with a satisfied grin. "Now that we've got a plan, let's enjoy the rest of the train ride. MageX is officially open for business."
As the train barreled toward Hogwarts, the group settled in, their minds already whirring with plans for mischief and magical mayhem. It was clear that this year was going to be anything but ordinary.
—
The sun was just beginning to set, casting a warm orange glow through the windows, but in the compartment, the usual chaos was in full swing. Harry and his crew—Hermione, Ron, Jean, Susan, and Hannah—were deep into their very serious discussions about what their next prank would be. Naturally, this was when Draco Malfoy decided to ruin the vibe.
With a dramatic flair, the door slid open with a creak so exaggerated that even Filch would've winced. Draco, flanked by his loyal oafs Crabbe and Goyle, strutted in like he was auditioning for a part in a bad Shakespearean play. His signature sneer was on full display, the kind that could make a lesser person feel like they were wearing their pajamas in public.
"Well, well," Draco said, his voice dripping with that arrogance he thought was so charming. "Potter and his merry band of misfits. What a surprise."
Harry, who had just been explaining the finer points of wizarding pranks to the group, didn't even flinch. "Malfoy. To what do we owe this... um... pleasure?"
Draco's eyes flicked over the group, lingering just a moment longer on Harry. "Huh, Potter. Looks like you've been working out. Trying to bulk up so you don't look so... well, pathetic?"
"Just growing up, Malfoy," Harry replied with a shrug. "You should try it sometime."
Ron, ever the opportunist, snorted loudly, making no attempt to hold back his laughter. "Some things never change, eh, Draco? Still relying on the same old insults."
Draco's sneer faltered for a second, but he quickly recovered, like the seasoned villain he thought he was. "Well, at least I'm not compensating for anything, Potter. Some of us don't have to try so hard."
Hermione rolled her eyes so dramatically it was almost like a mini performance. "Honestly, Draco, do you ever shut up?"
Draco's gaze shifted to her, clearly deciding that she was just as deserving of his charming attention. "And what about you, Granger? Don't think just because Potter's been hitting the gym it makes him any less pathetic."
Jean, who'd been watching all this with an air of mild amusement, decided she'd had enough. Leaning forward slightly, her voice sweet as honey but with a definite edge, she said, "Why don't you run along? We're busy plotting things that'll make you wish you were never born."
Draco's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "And who are you supposed to be?"
Jean's lips curled into a small smile. "Jean Grey," she said, as if dropping a bombshell. Which, in a way, she kind of had.
Draco blinked, clearly trying to figure out if she was just some mudblood or if this was some new kind of drama he hadn't heard of yet. "Another Mudblood, I presume?"
Harry's voice, low and warning, cut through the air like a blade. "You might want to watch your mouth, Malfoy. Jean here is more powerful than you can even begin to imagine."
Draco just snorted, but there was a flicker of doubt in his eyes. "Right. Sure she is."
Before anyone could respond, Jean's eyes flared for just a moment—just enough to make Draco's eyes widen in alarm. And then, before anyone could even blink, he was off the ground, floating several inches above the seat like a ragdoll. His legs kicked helplessly beneath him, and his usual bravado instantly evaporated.
"What—what the hell is happening?!" Draco's voice cracked, which—let's be honest—was about as satisfying as seeing a troll try to solve a riddle.
Crabbe and Goyle, in their usual style of utterly useless muscle, lumbered forward, clearly about to make things worse. But Harry, without even looking, casually stepped in their way. It was like watching a lion effortlessly dodge a stampede of confused sheep.
"Sorry, lads," Harry said coolly, his arms crossed. "This is between Jean and Malfoy."
They hesitated, looking at Draco, then back at Harry, clearly unsure whether they should try to help or just stand there looking even dumber than usual. In the end, they backed off with the sort of reluctance you'd expect from someone who's just realized they've been put in charge of babysitting a time bomb.
Draco's face was now a fascinating shade of pale, his usual sneer replaced by something much less threatening—pure terror. "Put me down!" he demanded, his voice rising to a near-squeak.
Jean kept her gaze steady, and though her tone was calm, there was an almost predatory edge to her words. "Not until you learn some respect."
With a flick of her wrist, Draco dropped like a stone, crashing back onto the ground. His legs wobbled beneath him as if they were made of spaghetti, and he looked around, desperate for something to hold on to—anything to anchor him to his rapidly disintegrating sense of dignity.
He gasped, scrambling to stand, but his face was drained of color. "I'll... remember this," he muttered, stumbling back toward the door.
Crabbe and Goyle, still unsure of what just happened, gave Harry one last confused look before they all vacated the compartment, the door slamming behind them with a satisfying thud.
There was a moment of stunned silence before it was shattered by Hermione, who, always the voice of reason (and sarcasm), piped up, "Well, that was a new twist."
Ron couldn't hold it in anymore. "Remind me never to get on Jean's bad side," he muttered, trying (and failing) to hide his grin.
Harry chuckled, clearly enjoying the aftermath. "I think we've established that point, Ron. Anyway, now that we've settled the whole Malfoy problem, where were we?"
Jean, a faint blush coloring her cheeks, gave him a shy smile. "You were about to tell us about your big prank."
Right. The prank. The reason Harry's crew was here in the first place. Harry cleared his throat, trying to ignore the butterflies fluttering uncomfortably in his chest. "Right, right. How about we enchant the suits of armor in the Great Hall to do a little dance and sing every time someone walks by?"
Hermione raised an eyebrow, the ghost of a smirk playing on her lips. "A bit less invasive, but still mischievous. I like it."
Ember (formerly Hannah) giggled, her eyes alight with amusement. "That sounds perfect! And way more fun than any prank we could think of before."
Redbolt (aka Ron) leaned in, practically vibrating with excitement. "I can't wait to see Filch's face when he sees dancing armor!"
Susan, aka Veritas, nodded with approval. "It's harmless, fun, and it'll get the whole school talking. A great way to start the year."
Jean turned to Harry, giving him an approving look. "And it's the perfect way to introduce MageX to Hogwarts."
With their plan set, their excitement practically buzzing in the air, the group settled back into their seats. As the train steamed toward Hogwarts, they couldn't help but feel that this year was going to be one for the books. Because when you've got a secret society, magical powers, and an army of enchanted suits of armor on your side? Well, let's just say it was going to be one wild ride.
—
The Hogwarts Express screeched to a halt so abruptly that it felt like the entire train had run into a mountain made of solid ice. The temperature plummeted faster than Ron could finish a whole joke about dragons, and suddenly, it felt like they were all on an expedition to the North Pole.
Ron, always the first to notice anything out of the ordinary (especially when it had to do with food or weather), rubbed his hands together and blew into them. "So... either someone put a huge, invisible ice block in the middle of the train, or we've just crossed into the Land of Eternal Winter. What's next? Yeti invasion?"
"I'd prefer a Yeti," Hermione said with a frown, pulling her robes tighter around her. "At least they're warm."
The windows, which had been clear and sunny moments before, were now completely frosted over, like they were trapped inside a snow globe that someone had shaken just a little too enthusiastically. Harry shivered, but he wasn't about to let the cold mess with his head. He didn't have time for that.
"Okay, focus," Harry said, trying to sound all calm and collected, which was really just him faking it to keep the group from panicking. "We need to figure out what's going on. Hermione, any ideas?"
Hermione, who was busy scanning the compartment for anything that could explain the temperature drop, furrowed her brow. "It's... it's like something magical has gone horribly wrong. I've never felt a temperature shift like this, not even in the Forbidden Forest."
"Yeah, I'm getting vibes of 'it's so cold you could freeze your broomstick to the ceiling' mixed with 'someone's about to ruin our whole train ride,'" Ron added, teeth chattering. "We should probably start brainstorming ideas, yeah?"
"You're really selling it, Ron," Jean said, crossing her arms and glancing around with a slight smile. If anyone could handle a frozen train ride without breaking a sweat, it was Jean. "I mean, 'angry Yetis' is a solid theory, but I'm open to suggestions."
"Right, right," Harry said, trying to reel in the panic that was quietly trying to creep up on him. "But we need to keep our heads cool—no pun intended." He turned to Hermione. "Any chance this is some sort of curse?"
"I don't think so," Hermione answered, shaking her head. "Curses usually have a source, like a person or a thing. But this feels different. It's like the cold is... alive, if that makes sense?"
Susan Bones, who had been watching the frost creep along the ceiling, chimed in with her usual calm, even though she looked just as worried as the rest of them. "Alive? What, like it has a mind of its own?"
"I was thinking more along the lines of sentient ice, but yeah," Hermione said, biting her lip. "It's possible."
The train lurched again, and this time, the temperature dropped even further. The frost on the windows now looked like thick, swirling patterns—almost like... shapes?
"That's new," Hannah Abbott said, her voice coming out in a whisper. "Look, over there—on the glass."
Everyone turned to see what she meant. For a brief second, the frost on the window shifted, forming a pattern that looked suspiciously like a set of glowing eyes.
"Okay, that's a lot creepier than the Yeti idea," Ron said, taking a few steps back. "I'm starting to think this isn't just a cold front."
"Doesn't look like it," Harry said, his brow furrowed. "So, what do we do now?"
"Well," Jean said, pushing herself off the wall with a small, knowing smirk. "First thing's first. We figure out who—or what—is behind this little arctic attack."
Ron raised his hand, as if he were in a classroom. "What if it's just a big magic prank gone wrong? You know, like, some student from Ravenclaw decided to cast a big, messy charm and now it's turned into a full-blown frozen disaster."
Hermione shook her head, looking unimpressed. "You really think someone would accidentally make it snow inside the train, Ron?"
"I dunno," he said, scratching his head. "It's Hogwarts. Weird things happen."
"True," Jean admitted, "but I have a feeling this is something bigger than some first-year's mistake. I don't think it's a prank. The cold's... deliberate." Her eyes narrowed as she gave a quick scan of the cabin. "It feels... like it's trying to communicate, but with ice."
"Great," Ron said dryly. "It's not enough that we've got this ominous chill; now it wants to talk to us."
"I don't like the idea of that," Hermione muttered, crossing her arms tightly. "It's just too unnatural. Something's causing this, and we need to find out before it gets worse."
Harry, for once, felt the weight of responsibility settle heavily on his shoulders. It wasn't that he was scared—it was more like a weird mixture of urgency and unease that made his pulse quicken. This wasn't just another strange event at Hogwarts; this felt like the beginning of something much darker.
"Alright," Harry said, standing up straighter. "We need a plan. First, let's check the rest of the train. We'll figure out if this is just isolated to our compartment, or if the entire train's been affected. Hermione, you take the map and see if you can figure out where the cold's coming from. Jean, stay close in case we need backup."
Jean raised an eyebrow but didn't argue. "Got it. And if it does turn out to be Yetis, I'll handle them."
"Thanks for the offer, but I'll pass on the Yetis," Harry said, rolling his eyes. "But seriously, we'll need everyone at their best for this."
"Yeah," Ron added, trying to warm his hands by blowing on them again. "And if we do run into Yetis, can we make sure they're not in the mood for lunch?"
"Let's just focus on the problem at hand, yeah?" Hermione said, the edge of her usual bossiness creeping into her tone.
Everyone nodded, and with a final look at the still-frosting windows, they started toward the door.
Outside, the train seemed to be eerily silent, the usual chugging of the engine replaced by a deep, ominous hum. The cold had followed them like a persistent shadow, and they were about to find out who—or what—was behind it.
And just as Harry was about to open the compartment door, he heard it. A low, echoing whisper, too soft for anyone else to hear, but just loud enough to send a shiver down his spine.
—
Before anyone could even open their mouths to ask what in the name of Merlin was going on, the compartment door exploded open like someone had just kicked it down in an action movie. Standing there, dark cloaks billowing in the draft, were three hooded figures so tall and thin they looked like they'd just escaped from the latest season of The Haunting of Hogwarts. The temperature dropped so suddenly that Harry's breath turned to mist, like he'd accidentally walked into a freezer aisle at Diagon Alley.
A chorus of gasps filled the compartment. Ron's face was as pale as a sheet of parchment, and his wand hand shook so violently, Harry half-expected the thing to fly out of his grip.
"Dementors," Hermione whispered, her voice almost lost in the whistling wind that seemed to come from nowhere.
"Great," Ron muttered under his breath. "Just when I thought a surprise pop quiz was the worst of my problems."
For a second, time seemed to slow down. Harry's heart rate picked up, a cold sweat clinging to his back as memories of the last time he faced these wretched creatures flooded his mind. But then, just as quickly, he was snapped back to reality.
"Alright, listen up," Harry said, trying to channel his inner leader, even though he felt about as brave as a squib at a magic duel. "We've faced worse, right? Jean, you ready?"
Jean, whose eyes were locked on the Dementors, cracked her knuckles and gave a smile that would've made any enemy rethink their life choices. "You bet. Let's do this."
There was something electric in the air between them as Jean's power began to hum, her psionic energy wrapping around her like a storm waiting to unleash. Harry could feel it too—his senses sharpened, the Phoenix Force whispering in his mind, practically demanding to be unleashed. And boy, was it ready.
Hermione's fingers were visibly twitching, her wand aimed at the Dementors as she mumbled to herself, "Okay, no big deal. Just a couple of the most terrifying creatures in the magical world. I'm sure this is fine."
Ron's face had that look on it—the one that screamed "I'd rather be anywhere but here." He clutched his wand with a grimace. "I swear, if I don't make it out of this alive, I'll haunt you lot."
"Ron," Hermione snapped. "Don't joke about that. We need to focus."
Hannah Abbott, who was clutching her own wand with the white knuckles of a person who didn't want to be the next ghost, looked nervously at the door. "I—I don't think we're going to just scare them off this time, are we?"
"Nope," Jean said, voice as calm as a professor handing out homework. "But if we work together, we've got this."
With a sharp gesture from Harry, a wave of golden light burst out from him like a solar flare. Jean responded with a psychic pulse that seemed to shake the walls, a telekinetic energy that hummed like a freight train ready to crush anything in its path. The Dementors, who usually could freeze someone in their tracks with their cold, soul-sucking presence, seemed to stagger back. The air around them rippled like heat rising from the pavement on a hot day.
"Wow," Ron whispered, eyes wide. "That's... that's really something. I've never seen anything like that."
"Yeah," Hermione said, half to herself, half to everyone else. "And I've read everything on Dementors. This isn't in the textbooks."
Jean and Harry locked eyes again. She nodded. They were ready.
"Okay, time to turn up the heat," Harry muttered. He let his powers flow like a burst of fire through his veins, and before anyone could blink, he'd absorbed all the negative energy the Dementors were throwing at him. It was like gulping down a cup of darkness—cold, suffocating, and bitter. But then, the Phoenix Force kicked in, roaring to life, pushing back with warmth that could melt icebergs.
"I think I'm done with the whole 'miserable, soul-sucking chill' vibe," Harry said, grinning as his body flared with gold. He thrust his hand forward, and the stored energy blasted out like a wave of sunshine in the middle of a blizzard.
The Dementors shrieked as if they were suddenly allergic to light, their ethereal bodies flickering like a poorly cast Patronus. They tried to retreat, but it was too late. In one final, blinding flash of gold and psychic force, the Dementors evaporated into nothingness, leaving only the lingering taste of victory in the air.
The compartment, which had once felt like the inside of a refrigerator, now felt like the warm comfort of a fireplace. Everyone let out a collective sigh of relief.
"Is it over?" Hannah asked, glancing around like someone expecting a second wave.
"Yeah," Harry said, his voice still carrying a slight rasp from the intensity of the fight. "It's over. For now."
Ron wiped his brow dramatically. "Blimey. That was—well, that was something. This is like the weirdest trip to school I've ever had."
Hermione gave him a half-smile, though she was still looking at Harry with a mixture of awe and concern. "Are you alright?"
Harry nodded, glancing over at Jean. "Yeah, I'm fine. Thanks to Jean. You were amazing back there."
Jean shrugged, her usual smirk playing on her lips. "Teamwork. You did all the hard work. I just, y'know, made it a bit easier."
Hannah, still wide-eyed, leaned closer to Hermione and whispered, "Are we sure they're just students?"
"Absolutely," Hermione replied, though she looked uncertain herself. "Definitely just students."
As the train began to move again, the atmosphere lightened. The students relaxed, realizing they'd narrowly escaped what could have been a disaster. With Harry's newfound powers and Jean's unwavering calm, they felt like they could face anything—well, almost anything.
Ron let out a small chuckle. "Honestly, if this is the start of the year, I'm terrified of what the rest of it's going to look like."
"Yeah, me too," Harry muttered, glancing at his friends with a wry grin. "But if it's anything like this, we'll be fine."
---
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