In third-year halls, their paths first crossed,
A Raven boy, a Blonde girl lost.
"Stay out of my way," she warned with a glare,
But something lingered in the frosty air.
Crimson with his scar and fame,
Emerald with her secrets untamed.
Two worlds ap...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
The morning at Number 12, Grimmauld Place was chaotic from the moment the first light crept through the cracks in the heavy curtains. Sirius' ancestral home, with its dark wood paneling and gloomy atmosphere, was not designed to host the flurry of activity that accompanied the start of a new Hogwarts term.
Aria Hilton awoke to the sound of hurried footsteps in the hall, a sharp contrast to the usual quiet that shrouded the house. She sat up, her hair a mess from tossing and turning, blinking groggily at the soft light filtering into the room. The muted noise of breakfast preparations in the kitchen below reached her ears—clattering pans, low murmurs, and the occasional shout from Mrs. Weasley, whose voice rang louder than usual.
"Ron! Hermione! Get down here, or you'll miss breakfast!"
Aria sighed, knowing it was going to be one of those mornings. As she stretched and pulled herself out of bed, she glanced over at her Hogwarts trunk, still unfastened from packing the night before. The realization that this was the last morning before they boarded the Hogwarts Express hit her with a bittersweet pang. This would be her fifth year at Hogwarts, and yet the prospect of leaving 12 Grimmauld Place, with its Order of the Phoenix meetings and the constant hum of adult conversations, seemed both a relief and a reminder of what lay ahead.
She was one of the last to shuffle downstairs, the scent of Mrs. Weasley's cooked breakfast drawing her like a magnet. The kitchen was a mess of bodies, bags, and anxious chatter. Harry, Hermione, Ron, and the twins were already seated, hurriedly eating between conversations. Plates of toast, eggs, sausages, and bacon were spread across the table, yet the air of excitement and nerves dampened anyone's ability to really enjoy it.
"Aria!" Hermione called out, spotting her as she entered. "You're up! We've got to be quick this morning. We leave in half an hour."
"I'm aware, Hermione," Aria said, grabbing a piece of toast and taking a seat beside Harry. He looked exhausted, dark circles under his eyes, and his gaze distant as he absently poked at his scrambled eggs. She caught his eye for a brief moment and gave him a small, encouraging smile. His return smile was faint, but there, before he dropped his focus back to his plate.
Ron, who was trying to wolf down a mountain of bacon, groaned. "Mum's going to make us miss the train if she keeps fussing over everything. Where's my other sock?"
"Ronald Weasley, you won't be going anywhere unless you eat that properly," Mrs. Weasley scolded, bustling between the stove and the table, her eyes darting between the half-packed trunks and the clock on the wall.
The twins, Fred and George, were bantering as usual, unaffected by the tension in the room. "Come on, Mum, the train won't leave without your favorite sons," George said with a wink.
