Time waits for no one, and the Hogwarts Express was about to depart.
Although Ted and Hermione had rushed to inform the prefects that there were still students missing, their efforts didn't yield much urgency.
Harley, Neville, and Ron: "We haven't gotten on the train yet! We haven't gotten on the train yet!"
At the time, Penelope Clearwater was chatting with Ron's younger sister, Ginny, in the prefects' carriage.
Upon hearing the concern, she simply waved it off.
"Don't worry. If they missed the train, they can always take the Floo Network straight to Hogsmeade or even Professor McGonagall's office. It happens every year."
Ginny nodded reassuringly.
"Mum and Dad will probably just send them later. Maybe they'll even beat us there! After all, the 'Express' is just a name, not a speed guarantee." She shrugged.
Ted, however, had a bad feeling.
He knew better than to underestimate their ability to get into trouble.
'It seems that some things are meant to happen... Canon event? Fate? One thing is for sure, first day at school and Snape's already on Harley, Neville, and Ron's ass... I might have worded that wrong,'
Ted and Hermione had no choice but to return to their seats, continuing their conversation and nibbling on snacks.
Jerry wasn't too concerned either.
They were wizards now—there was always a way to fix things.
An hour passed, and suddenly, there was a tapping sound on the window. "Tap tap tap!"
Ted looked up to see his raven, Anzu, fluttering outside.
He quickly let him in.
"Back so soon? Bad weather?"
Hermione and Jerry glanced outside. The sky was clear, barely any clouds in sight.
Ansu tilted his head. "Something strange in the sky! CAW!"
"Strange?" Ted frowned and leaned halfway out of the window, letting the wind whip against his face as he scanned the sky.
Hermione grabbed his robes. "Ted! Get back inside, that's dangerous!"
Ted ignored her for a moment, squinting against the wind.
Then, he spotted it—a black speck in the distance.
"Oh, for Merlin's sake—" He quickly pulled out a napkin, transfigured it into a bright red cloth, and waved it vigorously out the window.
Sure enough, the black speck wobbled in the air for a moment.
"What is it? What did you see?" Hermione and Jerry pressed.
Ted pulled himself back inside and exhaled sharply. "It's Mr. Weasley's flying car. And judging by the movement, they're inside."
Hermione's eyes went blank as she process what Ted said.
"No one's in that car, right...? It's not Ron, Harley, and Neville... Right? Ted?"
Jerry suddenly found that his ham sandwich had lost its appeal. "Riding a flying car to get to Hogwarts… If I had known, I'd have stayed behind too."
—
Flashback to an hour earlier.
The Hogwarts Express had pulled away, but Harley, Neville, and Ron were still stuck at the platform.
"We're doomed," Ron groaned. "We're late, we'll get detention for sure. What if we lose points? What if they expel us?!"
Harley just smirked. "I have a plan."
Neville looked like he wanted to bolt. "I'd rather drop out and go home."
"Relax," Harley insisted. "At least let's try something before we panic."
Neville and Ron exchanged glances, shuddering. The last time Harley had a "plan," they barely made it out of the ordeal intact.
But sure enough, minutes later, three second-year students with no driver's license—or common sense—were flying through the sky in a car.
The Hogwarts Express carried on below, blissfully unaware of the reckless wizards above.
—
Meanwhile, the sun began to dip below the horizon as the train neared the Scottish Highlands.
The three airborne wizards had been in the car for hours, and exhaustion was creeping in.
The only silver lining?
No traffic accidents in the sky.
The downside?
No perpetual motion machines existed in the wizarding world.
And Mr. Weasley's enchanted car had its limits.
After hours of flight, the car shuddered and groaned, its engine sputtering like a winded hippogriff.
Inside, Neville clutched his robe, ready to write a will on his sleeve. Ron was patting the dashboard encouragingly.
"Come on, you've got this! Think of all the roads we've traveled! Just a little more! For the Weasleys!"
Harley, gripping the wheel tightly, was sweating bullets. "Hold together, Susan, hold together!"
...She even named the car.
The car's speed was dropping rapidly, unable to keep up with the train anymore.
By the time Ted and the others reached the Hogwarts gates, Harley, Ron, and Neville were still nowhere in sight.
—
The Thestral-drawn carriages pulled up at the castle entrance, the last traces of daylight fading behind the mountains.
Streetlights flickered to life along the winding pathways.
The Great Hall was already buzzing with energy.
A grand feast awaited both new and returning students, the floating candles casting a warm glow over the enchanted ceiling.
The first years had arrived earlier by boat, their eager faces peeking through the entrance as they awaited the Sorting Ceremony.
As tradition dictated, the Sorting Hat launched into its annual song.
Unfortunately, the founders had forgotten to instill musical talent in the enchanted artifact, and its performance was more endurance test than melody.
This year's first-year class was slightly larger than Ted's had been. Among them, notable faces emerged:
Gryffindor welcomed Ginny Weasley, the youngest of the Weasley clan, along with Colin Creevey, an excitable boy who would soon become Harley Potter's most enthusiastic fan.
Over at Ravenclaw, a dreamy-eyed girl with light blonde hair and an ethereal aura joined their ranks—Luna Lovegood.
Her father was the editor-in-chief of The Quibbler, a magazine known for its… unconventional takes on wizarding news.
Even the wizarding world had its niche publications, after all.
After all, people can be strange—sometimes, completely unpredictable.
Just like those odd corners of the wizarding world where the most bizarre things somehow make perfect sense.
And once you accept the absurdity, you might just find yourself enjoying it.
In addition to the familiar faces from the original Gryffindor roster, two rather unusual students had been sorted into the house this year:
Chimaha, a boy with shaggy dog-like ears, and Caitlin, a girl with feline features. It seemed Gryffindor had truly become a house of lions, cats, and dogs!
As Ted watched the newly sorted first-years, he felt an odd sense of seniority.
A strange realization settled over him—this was how the older students must have looked at him last year.
The eager, slightly nervous faces of the newcomers were strangely endearing.
Then came the introduction of the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor: Gilderoy Lockhart.
Over the years, Defense professors had varied in quality, but this year's pick was like a sponge squeezed completely dry of competence.
Lockhart strutted onto the stage, his robes ostentatious and his golden curls practically glowing under the candlelight.
He flashed his dazzling smile, looking around as if expecting applause.
As soon as he opened his mouth, it was clear he wasn't here to teach—he was here to boast.
Every sentence he spoke was an advertisement for one of his own books.
If Ron had been sitting closer, he probably would've muttered something about the man being a fraud who nearly bankrupted his family with his overpriced collection.
After the introductions, it was time for the school song.
As always, students were free to choose their own tune.
But instead of an enthusiastic chorus, silence filled the hall.
Every student turned their gaze toward Ted.
Ted blinked.
"Why are you all looking at me?"
The answer was clear in their expectant expressions: Ted, it's your job now.
"No!" Ted protested.
The unrelenting stares continued.
Dumbledore's wand, raised in preparation to conduct, hovered awkwardly in midair.
Even he seemed unsure how to proceed without Ted leading the way.
Ted sighed in defeat. Fine, he'd do it.
He had originally intended to pick something lighthearted, but now… well, there was no way around it.
And so, he began to sing.
A melody filled the Great Hall, soft and haunting.
There was something about Ted's voice that carried an unshakable weight of sorrow, something that wrapped around the hearts of everyone present.
It wasn't just a song—it was emotion, raw and unfiltered.
Many students, especially those who had lost family, found their eyes welling up with tears.
Even Luna, usually lost in her own world, clutched her chest and let silent tears fall.
The room, once buzzing with excitement, now carried a somber stillness.
Among the teachers, only two remained unaffected.
Snape's sharp gaze flickered toward Dumbledore.
"This is… quite the ability."
Dumbledore nodded slightly, his wise eyes filled with curiosity.
He recognized the magic at play—an enchantment woven into sound, subtle yet incredibly powerful.
Only those trained in Occlumency or resistant to mental influences could resist its effects.
It reminded him of Veela charm, but far more insidious in its quiet reach.
The talent Ted had displayed was rare—dangerous, even, in the wrong hands.
By the time the song ended and the feast began, many students still hadn't fully recovered.
Some of the older girls kept glancing at Ted with a newfound protectiveness, as though he were a tragic hero in need of comfort.
Hermione, seated beside him, squeezed his hand tightly, as if trying to ground him back in the moment.
Ted exhaled, regretting his choice.
Maybe he shouldn't have gone for something so melancholy on what was supposed to be a joyful night.
It was probably better to stick to something cheerful next time.
At least the food was good.