The following morning, when Arya finally reached the Slytherin table for breakfast, most students were already standing up to leave. She had woken up far too late—an unfortunate combination of unfamiliar halls and oversleeping. Sliding into the nearest seat, she hastily made herself a sandwich and tucked it into her bag.
Albus, who had been watching her, smirked.
"Cutting it a bit close, Calderon."
Arya, never one to admit defeat, replied coolly, "Well, perhaps your castle wouldn't be so confusing if it weren't designed like a riddle."
She shot him a withering glare.
"I didn't mean anything by it," Albus said, raising his hands in mock surrender.
Scorpius, who had overheard the exchange, leaned forward.
"If you'd like, we could give you a proper tour. Right, Albus?"
Albus gave a half-hearted grin that didn't reach his eyes.
"Sure."
They made their way to Potions class together. Arya and Scorpius took their seats, pulled out their books, and waited. Their Potions Master was Professor Elyon Salavar, a highly skilled wizard known for crafting exceptional draughts. Arya had read about him in A Guide to Notable British Witches and Wizards and knew he had taken the position after the famed Severus Snape, whose heroics were still spoken of in the States.
Professor Salavar entered the room. He was a man in his fifties, with salt-and-pepper curls and steady brown eyes. He spoke with a calm but commanding tone.
"This year is pivotal for many of you. Your future careers may well hinge upon your exam scores. What I expect from each of you is greater precision, consistent effort, and above all—focus."
He smiled slightly, then turned to the board and began writing the ingredients for a Sleeping Draught.
Arya felt uneasy. Potions had never been her strength, and the last thing she wanted was to make a poor impression on her first day. Thankfully, the potion wasn't too difficult, and with a bit of discreet glancing at Scorpius's work, she managed to complete it. When she submitted her first brew, Professor Salavar examined it carefully, then nodded.
"Not bad for a first attempt, Miss Calderon-Boot. I'm glad to have you in my class this year. Let's see if I can live up to the high standards set by your American professors."
He grinned so broadly that Arya couldn't help but think he seemed almost too pleased with himself.
"Oh—and your former Potions professor, Steinfield, is a good friend of mine. If you ever see him again, do pass along my regards."
"I certainly will, Professor."
By the time she left the classroom, most of the other students had already dispersed. Arya once again found herself trying to navigate the castle alone. Fortunately, she ran into a petite girl with short blonde hair at the bottom of the stairs.
"Oh, I'm so glad to see you!" the girl said cheerfully. "I'm Rosata Smith."
"Nice to meet you, Rosata."
Rosata was lively and charming, and to Arya's relief, she didn't ask a single intrusive question. Arya would later learn that she was a half-blood.
Albus and Scorpius were sitting in the Great Hall. Scorpius was stealing glances at Rose Weasley, who sat at the Gryffindor table chatting with friends. When she smiled at him, Scorpius beamed, then turned to Albus, who was piling food onto his plate.
"Still not a fan of her?" he asked casually.
"Who?"
"Arya."
Albus smirked. "She's full of herself. Always going on about Ilvermorny this, Ilvermorny that. As if she doesn't know Hogwarts is the oldest wizarding school in Britain."
"But she's talented. Over the summer she used an Expansion Charm on my suitcase. Finding my socks is a nightmare now, but I managed to pack everything."
"Talented, maybe. But I'm fairly certain her cauldron looked an awful lot like yours in Potions."
Scorpius noticed Arya and Rosata approaching and whispered, "Just act normal, please."
Arya looked around for a seat away from the boys but found none. She reluctantly sat next to Scorpius, and Rosata joined them.
Arya pulled an old tome titled Ancient Spellwork from her bag and began reading.
"This subject is really tough," she muttered. "Why are all the terms in Anglo-Saxon?"
"Because it's ancient magic," Albus answered without looking up.
Arya glared at him. "Still, they could've made it more accessible. I can't understand a word. Our own ancient spells are far more straightforward."
"It's not that important a subject. Don't stress about it," Albus said lazily.
Arya straightened. "Do you know why your father survived the first Death Curse? Because of an ancient spell. Anyone who wants to be a great witch or wizard must master this subject."
Albus looked surprised. He hadn't expected her to know so much about his father. But he quickly recovered and quipped, "I'm also fairly certain great witches don't copy their Potions homework."
Scorpius, trying to change the subject, asked, "What electives did you choose?"
"Muggle Studies and Ancient Spellwork. I've got to sit your exams this year, so I didn't take anything else. Not that I had much of a choice—I'm dreadful at Arithmancy and absolutely loathe Divination."
"There's Care of Magical Creatures too," Scorpius offered.
"Yes, but my dad's a magizoologist. I already know most of the content."
Scorpius frowned thoughtfully. "I thought your dad was an Auror for MACUSA."
"He's not," Arya said curtly. "Well… it's not important." She turned back to her conversation with Rosata.
Albus noted the evasiveness in her voice. Scorpius didn't know much either. Even when Albus had asked him why he never mentioned Arya's summer stay in his letters, Scorpius had merely said that Mr. Malfoy had insisted it be kept secret due to Arya's father's assignment.
***
On the third morning, Albus and Scorpius entered the Great Hall and found Arya already there, looking cheerful for once. She beamed at Scorpius.
Albus said, "Huh, you've finally learnt."
"I woke up extra early today—just in case I got lost again," Arya said cheerfully.
"Well, you're right on time," Albus replied, raising an eyebrow. "I daresay you even beat the house-elves this morning."
Scorpius, noticing Arya's surprised expression, leaned in to explain.
"They clean the castle and prepare the meals. House-elves, I mean."
Arya dabbed her lips with a napkin and said matter-of-factly,
"Yes, I read about them in Hogwarts: A History. Doesn't sound like the most pleasant job."
Scorpius, now seated opposite her, added,
"Things have improved a lot—thanks to Hermione Granger. They get weekends off now, and they're paid. Though, not all of them have quite adjusted to the change."
"I once gave one of them a Christmas present," Albus added with a grin. "It cried so hard I thought it was going to faint."
Arya, clearly disinterested in continuing the topic, said flatly,
"How… fascinating."
Though she hadn't warmed up to them yet, she could no longer deny that their company made Hogwarts feel slightly less alien.
Then, perking up, she added, "At least today we've got two proper lessons—Defence Against the Dark Arts and Transfiguration."
Albus, spooning porridge into his bowl, muttered with a smirk,
"Neither of which, of course, hold a candle to Ilvermorny."
***
After Transfiguration—where Arya impressed everyone by vanishing her rabbit perfectly on the first attempt—she strutted up to Scorpius.
"What you're learning now, we covered back in third year."
"You were brilliant," Scorpius admitted.
Albus grumbled something under his breath.
They headed to Defence Against the Dark Arts, held in a large and airy room. It seemed they shared the lesson with Gryffindor. Albus and Scorpius took the second row, Arya and Rosata the third.
Soon, a tall, red-haired man entered. Though he bore an old scar on his cheek, Arya thought he still looked quite handsome. She knew who he was: Bill Weasley, the man bitten by a werewolf in the war.
Rosata whispered, "He's only been teaching for two years. McGonagall gave him the job when his finances got tight."
Professor Weasley cleared his throat.
"Welcome to Defence Against the Dark Arts. I won't waste your time by saying how important this year is. I'm sure other teachers have done that plenty. Those of you who were in my class last year already know how things run. The rest of you will catch on soon enough"
He gave Arya a brief glance.
"Let's begin. Turn to the section on counter-curses to the Unforgivable Curses."
He asked the class to list counters to the Cruciatus Curse.
Rose Weasley immediately raised her hand. Arya glanced at her—she had seen her on the train. Rose was the Chaser for the Gryffindor Quidditch team and widely regarded as one of the school's top students. Many said she had inherited her intelligence from her mother.
She was, of course, Albus's cousin as well.
Arya's thoughts were interrupted by Professor Bill Weasley's voice.
"Yes, Rose?"
"Aliciomora , Plielheb, and Avinomata ," she recited confidently.
"Excellent. Five points to Gryffindor."
Then he began reading out the spells. Arya raised her hand.
"Yes, Miss Calderon-Boot?"
"Sir, if we don't actually practise these counter-curses, how are we supposed to use them when it really matters?"
The class fell silent. Professor Weasley thought for a moment.
"You're right, but we can't practise on living beings. The curses leave lasting harm."
Arya raised her voice clearly and said,
"but you can use sea slug shells. They're highly resistant to the Cruciatus Curse. The curse leaves visible effects on their bodies, but in truth, they don't feel much—only a sensation like itching or tickling."
Once again, the classroom fell silent. Professor Weasley looked thoughtful.
"Oh—what a shame that there's so little collaboration between magical schools. We rarely hear of each other's discoveries. Thank you, Miss Calderon. I'll definitely take note of that."
"Twenty points to Slytherin!"
The Slytherins grinned while the Gryffindors groaned in frustration.
As they were leaving the classroom, Albus turned to Scorpius and muttered,
"Alright… some of what she said might have actually been true."
Later, when Arya was revising her Muggle Studies notes, the two boys approached. Albus was surprised by her interest in the subject—he had heard she came from a pure-blood family. Apparently, the Calderon-Boots were among the oldest wizarding families in the United States.
They sat at the table. There were already whispers about Arya's performance in Defence Against the Dark Arts. Albus and Scorpius noticed a few students leaning toward one another, clearly gossiping about her. There didn't seem to be a more interesting topic at the moment.
The boys pulled out their homework and began writing.
Scorpius asked,
"Did you really learn counter-curses for Cruciatus?"
Arya, lost in thought, replied absently,
"Of course. We studied the Imperius Curse back in third year."
She began sketching something in her notebook.
"Can you cast a Patronus?" Albus asked impulsively. He had learned a bit himself and knew how difficult it was.
Of course. My father taught me. It was one of the harder ones." She returned to her Muggle Studies work.
"Muggles are fascinating, aren't they?" she said, while scribbling something.
Scorpius said, "I've heard there are strict rules in America about marrying or interacting with Muggles."
Arya replied firmly, "Naturally, we don't marry Muggles."
Albus raised an eyebrow. "So… are you also against teaching magic to Muggle-borns?"
Arya, frustrated that they were misunderstanding her, snapped,"Look—I've got nothing against Muggle-borns who can do magic. I'm talking about Muggles with no magic at all. They don't know anything about our world, haven't studied in our schools, and can't take part in our society. If you marry one, you're both stuck living in two separate worlds."
Albus asked, "Then why are you so interested in studying them?"
Arya replied simply,"They give me ideas."
"What kind of ideas?"
At that moment, Albus caught sight of someone across the hall—James, his older brother. He was laughing at something, surrounded by a group of students as always, completely at ease. A year older, James was far more mischievous, confident, and, in Albus's eyes, far more adored by the family.
Albus's gaze lingered for a moment longer than it should have. Though the sharp sting of resentment had dulled since last year, a quiet ache remained. He still couldn't shake the feeling that he was always the second act in someone else's spotlight.