September 1st arrived with the same sense of inevitability as gravity.
Cassius stood before the scarlet engine of the Hogwarts Express, hands in his pockets, the subtle hum of magic from platform nine and three-quarters brushing against his senses like static.
Third year.
A new year.
New chaos.
New opportunities.
And likely new idiots to outmaneuver.
The news of the Azkaban breakout had already spread far and wide, with much of britain now being on a state of alert preparing for a return of the dark days once more.
But for Cassius, this was just a simple deviation of the plot, one he planned to make great use of to expand his own powerbase.
He stepped through the steam, adjusting the strap of his bag.
The agreement forged months ago—negotiated by the girls, and approved by Lady Draconis—dictated that Cassius travel with Ginny Weasley, Luna Lovegood, and Astoria Greengrass for this year's train ride.
A… compromise.
Thanks to their own binding to the Draconis House, the girls saw Cassius in a different light from all their other peers and although subtle they had each developed affections for the young wizard.
This was further compounded thanks to Lady Draconis's meddling as she intruded upon numerous girl talks to further drive the girls in their thinking towards her young heir.
The seniors had gotten Cassius all to themselves on the train ride home, now it was the juniors turn to get their fill of Cassius as they returned to school.
Cassius opened the compartment door to find the trio already waiting.
Ginny sat cross-legged on the seat, polishing her wand with a seriousness that would've made McGonagall proud.
Astoria occupied the opposite corner, posture immaculate, a book titled "Hexes the Ministry Won't Let You Learn" open in her lap as though it were casual reading.
Luna, meanwhile, had pinned a floating paper crown to her hair and was humming at an upside-down Quibbler.
"Cassius!" Ginny lit up immediately. "Finally. We were taking bets on how long you'd make us wait."
Luna blinked dreamily. "I said you'd arrive precisely when the wrackspurts finished circling the third carriage."
Astoria did not look up from her book. "I said you'd be punctual because chaos waits for no one."
Cassius smirked. "If chaos truly waited, it wouldn't be nearly as fun."
He stored his things, took his seat, by the time the train started from the station the arrangement of people inside the compartment had changed.
Two girls clung to either side of him like he was a giant teddy bear, as Luna sat contentedly upon his lap leaning back into his chest as if he were the most comfortable chair in the entire world.
~
The first few hours passed pleasantly enough.
Ginny talked Quidditch tactics with the same intensity Cassius used for spellcraft.
Astoria practiced silent hexes, occasionally cursing the window frame for "looking smug."
Luna read aloud selected passages from the Quibbler that sounded suspiciously like metaphors for international politics.
Everything was… normal.
Until the train lurched.
Not the usual jostle over uneven tracks—but a slow, grinding halt that sent the compartment into an unnatural stillness.
Ginny frowned. "We're not scheduled to stop."
"Maybe someone tossed a gnome on the tracks again?" Astoria suggested.
Cassius didn't respond.
Because he felt it.
Cold.
Like a vacuum, pulling heat, light, emotion, memory.
A suffocating pressure crept through the walls of the train—the kind of cold that wormed beneath the skin and into the bones.
Luna's breath fogged in the air. "Oh… that's not good."
Cassius stood.
The lamps flickered, dimmed, then died entirely.
A scream sounded somewhere down the corridor.
Another.
Then a thud.
Ginny drew her wand.
Astoria followed suit.
Cassius already had his in hand.
The Draconis house members were by far the most competent students attending hogwarts, those with true battle senses and instincts.
The temperature plummeted further, unnatural frost crawling across the glass of the window.
A shadow drifted past the compartment door—tattered, floating, faceless.
A Dementor.
And another behind it.
And another.
Ginny gasped softly, her knuckles whitening over her wand.
"They're searching the train. For the escaped Death Eaters." Cassius explained, patting each girls casually upon the head to break their tension.
"Obviously," Astoria muttered, though the tremor in her voice betrayed her.
If the narrative held true, the dementors should not touch the students, only ever keying into Harry Potter due to the Dark Lords soul fragment resting quietly in his body.
Then a louder, sharper scream cut through the corridor—followed by a terrified cry that echoed with raw panic.
Harry Potter's.
Cassius' eyes narrowed.
Of course.
But the cry that came after was unknown to him.
The cry was like that of a banshee, full of emotion and pain.
And then, light.
Golden, blazing, overwhelming—like a miniature sun bursting into existence.
A doe-shaped Patronus stormed down the narrow corridor, head lowered, radiating warmth so powerful it melted frost instantly and hurled the Dementors backward.
And behind it—
Lily Evans-Potter.
Her hair whipped around her face like a living flame, her arm extended, wand tip shining with radiance, eyes burning with fury.
"STAY AWAY FROM MY SON!"
The doe charged again, scattering the cloaked wraiths, driving them through the rear of the train like leaves caught in a hurricane.
The girls finally untensed and retook their seats as the train lights returned.
Cassius leaned back slightly.
"Well," he murmured, amusement threading through his tone. "That certainly sets the tone for the school year."
The girls stared at him.
"What?" Cassius shrugged. "Tell me I'm wrong."
—
The rest of the ride was filled with corridors of rumors.
Dementors had attacked the train.
Harry Potter had fainted in fear of them.
Lily Evans the valiant teacher had fended them off single handedly.
Then they turned to thoughts on why they were here.
The news still displayed wanted pictures for the five escaped death eaters along with their bounties.
But for Cassius he could just sit there enjoying the comfort of his girls as they fawned over his, endlessly talking about his victory in the dueling tournament, before they moved on to congratulating him for being seeker of the British national quidditch team.