The morning of September first was special for every young witch and wizard of eleven. For Noah, it was no different. He woke up early, and the moment his eyes opened, a smile spread across his face. The day had finally arrived.
He had already packed everything he would need into his trunk—clothes, books, and other school supplies.
By the time it was time to leave, he was dressed and waiting patiently for his parents.
"Look at my baby, you look so handsome," his mother said with a warm smile.
He wore a gray shirt and black trousers, his light brown hair neatly combed. Taller than most children his age, Noah still had a boyish face, though his eyes carried an unusual sharpness.
"Let's go. We don't want to be late," Adam said.
Noah nodded, took his mother's hand, and with a sharp crack, the three of them vanished.
They Apparated directly onto Platform Nine and Three-Quarters. Noah didn't feel the slightest bit dizzy and immediately took in his surroundings.
He was in awe.
The bright red locomotive, the excited chatter of students, the laughter echoing across the platform—it was a moment he would never forget.
Above them hung the sign: Hogwarts Express, eleven o'clock.
Noah turned to his parents. "This is it."
His mother, already on the verge of tears, pulled him into a tight hug. "Don't forget to write."
"I won't," he promised.
His father embraced him as well. "Try not to humiliate the other students."
Noah smirked. "Can't make promises."
"Remember, Hogwarts is a public school. If you ever need anything, our family has plenty of influence at the Ministry," Adam said with a laugh and a wink.
"Got it," Noah replied with a smile. "I'd better go now, or Mom's going to cry for real."
"Come here," she said, pulling him into another hug.
When he finally managed to pull away, Noah straightened his wrinkled clothes and said his goodbyes.
"Need help with your trunk?" his father asked, then laughed at his own question.
Noah tapped his trunk, shrinking it down to the size of a matchbox.
"See you at Christmas," he said with a wave before heading off.
He weaved through the crowd with ease—without a trunk or cage slowing him down, moving was effortless. Soon, he climbed aboard the train and found an empty compartment to settle into.
With nothing else to do, Noah pulled a book from his pocket and began reading. At some point, a commotion started outside, making him raise an eyebrow.
"Some celebrity wizard or something?" he muttered with a chuckle, returning to his book.
The train began to move. Noah checked his pocket watch. "Eleven sharp." Whoever caused all the fuss hadn't managed to delay the train.
No one came to join his compartment. Most students had already found seats—either with friends, family, or by themselves, like Noah.
Just as he thought he'd be traveling alone, a knock came at the door. He looked up to see two boys around his age: one with glasses and messy dark hair, the other tall with a shock of red hair.
The boy with glasses slid the door open. "Mind if we sit here?"
"The rest are full," the redhead added. "This celebrity here thought it was a brilliant idea to be late."
The boy with glasses gave him a subtle elbow, which made Noah laugh.
He gestured to the seats. "Go ahead. Traveling alone's pretty boring anyway."
"Thanks, mate."
They sat down, eyeing Noah as if trying to guess whether he was a second-year or a new student like them.
"So, excited for Hogwarts?" Noah asked, closing his book. "You two are first years as well, right?" He decided to take the initiative—if he wanted good years at Hogwarts, he'd need to wear his best mask.
"Definitely. I just wanted some freedom," the boy with glasses said. Then, as if remembering something, he added, "Though it's a joke that first-years can't try out for Quidditch."
"Oh, Harry, come on," the redhead said, exasperated. "Imagine me—I've got six brothers."
"Ron, shut up. You live in a house with loads of space, and it's awesome. I've got a sister, too, you know," Harry shot back.
"I'll take that as a yes—you're excited," Noah said with a grin. "So, best friends already?"
"Every hero needs a sidekick, right?" the redhead said. "He's the Boy Who Lived, and I'm the poor sod who puts up with him." He laughed at his own joke—alone. Noah didn't get it, and Harry didn't laugh either.
"Not funny?" Ron asked.
"No, Ron. I think Fred and George hogged all the humor in your family," Harry muttered.
"Hero?" Noah asked, confused.
The boy with glasses looked at him, surprised. "You don't know who I am?"
Noah gave him a strange look. "Am I supposed to?"
Hearing that, the boy actually smiled. "Well, everyone usually does."
"Mate, you seriously don't know him?" Ron asked, incredulous. "I thought you were just being polite, you know—avoiding staring at the scar or asking all the usual questions."
Then he put on a performance, imitating others:
"You're Harry Potter—Merlin's beard, look! Harry Potter!" He pretended to be an old man.
"Sign my book, Harry! I'm your biggest fan!" he squealed like a little girl.
"Harry, how did you defeat You-Know-Who? What spell did you use?" he said in a fake reporter's voice.
Noah watched the little act unfold with a wide grin. It was so ridiculous it became funny.
"So you're the celebrity who caused all that fuss?" Noah asked.
The boy with glasses chuckled awkwardly and offered his hand. "Harry Potter."
Noah shook it. "Noah Gray. And yeah, I'd like to know too—how did you beat him? Weren't you just a baby?"
Harry replied without thinking. "I don't remember, just a green light and—wait, you don't—" He stopped when he noticed Noah's playful smile.
"Mate, you're a good actor," the redhead said, extending his hand. "Ron Weasley. Fred and George are going to love you."
Noah shook it. "Fred and George, I assume, are your brothers?"
Ron nodded. "Yeah. Careful with them—they love pranks." His expression soured, as if recalling a bad memory.
"What's up with him?" Noah asked Harry.
"Before we came here, we were sitting with Fred and George a few cars back," Harry explained, chuckling as he remembered. "Let's just say… when you throw a spider on someone afraid of spiders, you get quite the scene."
"Shut up, Harry," Ron grumbled. "It wasn't funny."
Harry clutched his stomach, laughing harder. "Of course it was. What did you say again? 'Get it off me! Get it off!'"
Noah laughed, picturing the scene. But one thing caught his attention. "A spider? Not a normal one, right?"
"It was massive," Ron said quickly, as if exaggerating its size would make him seem braver. "Huge, hairy legs—hundreds of them."
"Eight, actually. And they weren't that big," Harry corrected, earning a murderous glare.
Then Harry turned to Noah. "Do you like Quidditch? Don't you think it's unfair first-years can't join the team?"
"I like flying," Noah said with a small smile. "But I've never played Quidditch."
"Never?"
"Never?"
He nodded, making both boys sigh.
"Mate, I feel sorry for you. Having Muggle parents must be—wait," Ron froze mid-sentence.
'What surname did he say again?'
"G–Gray!!!"
Ron jumped to his feet, staring at Noah. "You're a Gray?! Bloody hell."
Noah glanced at Harry. "Is it always like this with you?"
Harry looked just as surprised but relaxed when he saw Noah's casual tone. "Pretty much. Though usually they're staring at the scar by now."
"So, Quidditch really is fun then?" Noah asked.
"Definitely," Harry said eagerly. "I can teach you if you want. Not to brag, but I'm great at it. I want to be a Chaser, just like my dad."
Noah chuckled at his enthusiasm. "That might be fun. I guess I could get into Quidditch."
"You will," Harry said, perched at the edge of his seat. "Didn't you say you love flying? Then Quidditch is perfect for you."
Ron looked between them. "Are we just going to ignore the fact that he's a Gray?"
Harry, who hated being treated differently because of who he was, didn't like Ron's reaction.
"Drop it, Ron. They're just another wizarding family."
"Just another family? My dad told me to be careful not to offend a Gray. He said it over and over after the news they'd moved back to the UK."
Harry smirked. "And you're doing the exact opposite right now."
Ron realized Harry was right and gulped. "Sorry."
Noah burst out laughing. "Forget it. Doesn't bother me."
Ron sighed, but then Noah asked, "Does your dad work at the Ministry, Ron?"
Ron nearly jumped out of his skin, then relaxed when he saw Noah's mischievous grin. "You nearly gave me a heart attack. And yeah, but—wait, is it true your family's kids can Apparate from birth? And that you ride dragons as children?"
Noah would've spat out water if he had been drinking.
"I don't know where you heard that story, but you forgot the part where our butlers are Dementors," Noah said with a straight face.
Harry burst out laughing. "Where did you hear that, Ron?"
"Fred and George," Ron admitted, realizing out loud that he'd been duped.
"So, do you guys know any spells?" Noah asked.
"Not really," Ron said. "Mum doesn't let us study magic before Hogwarts. But I've picked up a few things on my own."
Harry looked downcast. "I barely got to touch anything magical besides my broom. Mum doesn't let me do anything before school. Dad and Sirius tried to teach me in secret, but when she found out, they stopped."
Noah raised a brow. "No offense, but… isn't that kind of stupid? Not knowing any magic?"
Harry actually agreed. "Maybe. But Mum thinks even if I learned a few tricks, it wouldn't matter if… well, if he came back." He paused, then added, "But I know she just wants to protect me. That's why I've wanted to go to Hogwarts so badly. I want to learn to defend myself."
Noah thought about it. He had to admit—Harry knowing no magic was rather foolish. Especially since his future enemy was one of the most powerful wizards of the century, with vast knowledge of obscure spells and rituals.
Voldemort would be a tough opponent. If I meet him, should I run or fight? Noah didn't know the answer yet. He'd choose when the time came.
"Voldemort," he said aloud.
Ron nearly jumped out of his seat, clutching his chest. "Why would you do that? Trying to kill me from shock?"
Noah laughed and shrugged. "Just testing if it's true that people are afraid of the name."
"You could've just asked—I'd have told you yes. We're terrified of that name," Ron complained. "Please don't say it. One of him in my life is enough." He shot a look at Harry, who muttered the name far too often for his liking.
"So, Noah," Harry asked quickly, changing the subject. "Do you know any spells?"
"I know a few. Simple tricks," Noah said with a shrug. "If I had to fight a dragon, I think I'd manage."
Ron and Harry stared at him for a second before all three burst out laughing.
"A dragon would eat you alive, no matter how many tricks you had," Ron said. "My brother Charlie works with dragons—he told me even a full-grown wizard might not stand a chance against an adult one."
"I'm a Gray," Noah joked.
Ron honestly couldn't tell if he was serious or not…
The conversation carried on, with Ron talking more about dragons—something he clearly enjoyed, since it was knowledge only he could share.
Noah didn't mind listening. Everything about the magical world fascinated him, and dragons were near the top of the list.
Around midday, the door slid open again. This time it was a short, plump woman pushing a trolley full of sweets, smiling warmly.
"Anything off the trolley, dears?"
Harry jumped up immediately, and Noah was just as eager. Only Ron stayed quiet, clearly having brought something strange from home.
Noah circled the trolley with a grin, Harry doing the same.
Soon enough, both boys pulled gold coins from their pockets.
When the woman left, their seats were piled high with sweets, leaving barely any space.
Ron, embarrassed, unwrapped his sandwiches—only to be stopped by Harry.
"You know the rules, Ron. No weird food when you're with me," Harry said with a grin. "Go on, take whatever you want."
"Yeah, grab a pie—or whatever that thing is," Noah added, pointing at a treat he didn't even recognize. He hadn't eaten many wizarding sweets over the past years, so they still surprised him.
Ron didn't hesitate any longer. He tossed the strange food out the window and joined Noah and Harry in feasting on the mountain of sweets.