Christmas break soon ended, and we all had to return to school. Draco, Pansy, and I met up at the train, our mothers seeing us off while our fathers were busy at work.
"You're still reading that?" Draco asked, glancing at the worn and torn book I borrowed from his house.
I nodded while flipping a page. I had to see if there were any others like Merlin and me. So far, there weren't. I had to assume the author of this book deliberately kept any Slytherins with similar beliefs out, only including Merlin because they had to.
Eventually, I sighed and slammed the book shut.
"If you'll excuse me, I need some fresh air," I said, standing and making my way toward the back of the train.
Already near the rear, it wasn't long before I reached the final door leading outside. The train sped along a bridge over the empty fields of England. I opened the door and stepped out, watching the horizon blur past beneath us.
"Are you sad?" Val asked worriedly, his voice childlike, as if seeing a parent disheveled after a long day.
I sighed and took in the cold, refreshing air, the wind tugging at my hair.
"I'm not sad… I don't know what I am right now," I mumbled, unsure if someone as young as Val should know of my struggles.
"I'm Val, you're Lucas!" Val cheered, his innocent response making me laugh.
Once my laughter faded, I felt I could share at least a little with him.
"It's not like that. I just… I don't hate Mudbloods or Muggles. The only one in a thousand years to feel that way in Slytherin." I exhaled heavily. "I'm the strange one. The odd one out. Almost wishing I could just believe in what I know is wrong."
Val slithered beneath my robes, the wind billowing them around us. He crawled up to my neck, tickling me slightly with his tongue to coax a smile from me.
"What's wrong with strange?" he asked sweetly.
I chuckled at his innocence.
"I guess… nothing."
I stroked Valdemar's head, grateful for his comfort.
"Thank you."
"Mmhmm!" Val hummed happily before slithering back down my sleeve.
Arriving at the station near Hogwarts, we were directed not toward the boats but to carriages instead. I was astonished to see Thestrals pulling them. I had only ever read about them in books, but now, before me, stood at least twenty of the skeletal creatures.
The Slytherins and I walked toward the front of the carriages. I noticed that each Thestral bowed slightly as we passed, only to rise again for the other students. When we reached the first carriage, Draco, Pansy, and I placed our luggage onto it. But I didn't climb aboard.
Instead, I wandered to the front, watching as one of the Thestrals lowered its head in a graceful bow.
"Lucas, what's wrong?" Pansy asked, confused.
I realized she couldn't see them.
That's right… Only those who've seen death can see Thestrals…
My head ached faintly as the vague memory of yellow eyes piercing into me flickered in my mind. Yet, I pushed the thought aside, focusing on the majestic creature bowing before me.
I slowly raised my hand and stroked the Thestral's beak. Its white, cloudy eyes stared back at me before it nudged my hand toward its back.
I blinked in surprise.
"Really?" I asked softly, a trace of excitement in my voice.
The Thestral lowered its head in invitation, and without hesitation, I swung onto its back.
Gasps echoed from the students. I glanced at Draco and Pansy, their mouths hanging open, before whispering into the Thestral's ear.
"Can you take us to school?"
The creature cawed softly, then began trotting down the dirt path, pulling the carriage with Draco and Pansy behind me.
Dumbledore sat in his office, preparing for the students' return, when McGonagall burst in without knocking.
"Dumbledore, I must inform you that Mr. Peterson is riding one of the Thestrals!"
Dumbledore walked to the window and peered down at the courtyard. Sure enough, the brown-haired boy casually rode atop the skeletal creature, leading a carriage with two stunned Slytherin students trailing behind him.
McGonagall huffed, her lips pressed thin.
"I have already voiced my concerns regarding that boy's constant pet, but this is beyond the pale!"
Dumbledore smiled faintly as he observed the scene. He watched as Lucas stroked the horrifying yet beautiful creature with the same care one would show a small cat.
Ever since Fawkes had accepted the boy's approach, Dumbledore knew he was different. The phoenix had always preferred Hufflepuffs for their kind nature but had never once allowed a student to touch her. Yet, with Lucas, she had brushed her beak against his hand—a gesture of rare trust.
He knew Lucas was special. He had grown up quickly, hiding his love for magical creatures—and his Parselmouth abilities—from his parents. Ironically, his passion for magical beasts was almost poetic, considering his parents' hatred of them.
Dumbledore's expression softened. He wondered if the boy would still cherish creatures once he learned the truth about his parents. Would he grow bitter? Hardened?
He didn't know. But he wouldn't dare ruin the boy's happiness. Not here. Not in the one place where he was free.
"Our Thestrals are well-trained," Dumbledore said lightly. "He is already inside. Let us allow this water to flow under the bridge."
After unpacking my luggage, I made my way to the library. My parents' collection had barely mentioned Merlin, almost as though they wanted to erase him. The school's library was my only hope of uncovering more about him.
I headed toward the alumni section, specifically Slytherin alumni. It was tucked deep in the back of the library, close to the Restricted Section. I pulled a dusty book from the shelf and sat by the window, opening it carefully.
Flipping through the pages, I scanned photos of students—smiling, laughing. But when I turned a page, I froze.
The next spread was filled with sneering faces, every student glaring toward the same point. My eyes followed their hateful gazes to a scribbled, torn-out section of the book. The name and face erased from history.
My stomach sank. I could imagine my own future here if I ever let my ideals slip. Draco's mocking pranks. Pansy's disgusted stares. Complete ostracization from my house.
"Hi…"
I jolted in surprise, slamming the book shut. Gasping, I whirled toward the voice.
The Hufflepuff girl I had helped earlier stood there, her hands trembling slightly. I still didn't know her name, yet she somehow felt more familiar than most Slytherins.
I exhaled heavily, scowling.
"Don't sneak up on me like that," I snapped. "Now, what do you want?"
She bit her lip nervously before finally speaking, her voice soft and hopeful.
"Umm… c-can we be friends?"