Chapter 16

As the intense battle unfolded within the mind palace, Sirius stood guard over his godson and Remus, watching with a furrowed brow that could rival the Grand Canyon. He had positioned himself in a cozy corner of the Leaky Cauldron, far enough away to avoid suspicion but close enough to jump in if things went sideways. After all, Sirius was nothing if not a loyal guardian—or maybe a particularly protective dog, given his Animagus form.

"I know I should stay put," he muttered to himself, his gaze fixed on Harry and Remus as they grappled with the curse. "But it's hard to stay 'Sirius' about this," he added with a smirk, appreciating his own pun.

Sirius was the sort of guy who saw a problem and charged in like a knight in slightly dented armor, usually without stopping to think whether that was the best idea. Azkaban hadn't exactly been a spa retreat for him, but Sirius preferred to joke about his situation rather than dwell on the past. Still, he had moments when the shadows of his regrets loomed large.

Watching Harry, Sirius felt a swell of pride. The kid was a spitting image of his parents, James and Lily. It was like seeing ghosts—friendly ghosts, not the creepy kind that gave you nightmares.

"James, Lily, you'd be proud of him," Sirius whispered, his voice tinged with a mix of sadness and admiration. Harry was brave and kind, with a knack for getting into trouble—just like James. But there was also a bit of Lily's quiet strength in him, a resilience that Sirius knew would carry Harry through the darkest of times.

Sirius's heart raced with each twist and turn of the battle playing out in Harry's mindscape. He knew he should trust Harry's abilities, but the protective godfather in him was itching to jump in and help. "You're doing great, Harry," Sirius murmured, clenching his fists as he watched the struggle unfold. "Just keep fighting. You're not alone."

His mind raced with memories of the past, of the laughter and camaraderie he shared with James, Remus, and even Peter before he went rogue. Sirius's guilt bubbled up like a bad potion, but he pushed it aside. This was about Harry and Remus now. They needed him to be strong, to keep a level head and make sure no one in the pub noticed the extraordinary battle happening under their noses.

Sirius felt his frustration simmering. He hated being on the sidelines, watching as Harry faced dangers that no teenager should ever have to face. But he also knew that Harry needed to fight his own battles. Sirius was there to support and guide him, to be the rock that Harry could lean on when things got tough.

With a keen eye and a steadfast resolve, Sirius maintained his silent vigil. His heart ached with the knowledge that he couldn't always protect Harry from the challenges ahead, but his loyalty and determination never wavered.

"Come on, Harry," Sirius whispered, his voice filled with hope. "You've got this. We're all counting on you."

In the midst of chaos, Sirius remained a steadfast guardian, watching over Harry and Remus with unwavering loyalty and love. He might not always get it right, but he was determined to be the godfather Harry deserved—the one who would stand by him through thick and thin, ready to rush in and save the day if needed. 

And if he had to make a few jokes along the way, well, that was just the Sirius way of doing things.

—

As the mindscape dissolved around them, Harry and Remus reappeared in their familiar corner of the Leaky Cauldron. The pub buzzed with its usual blend of lively chatter, clinking glasses, and bursts of laughter, like nothing extraordinary had happened. Just another day in the wizarding world—except for the whole battling-a-curse-in-a-mindscape thing. Casual Tuesday, really.

Sirius, who had been pretending to read a newspaper while casting sidelong glances at the duo, let out a dramatic sigh of relief. It was the kind of sigh you'd expect from someone who just found out their favorite Quidditch team wasn't being disqualified. "Welcome back, you two!" he said, trying to sound casual. "For a moment there, I thought I'd have to go full-on Portkey and rescue you."

Harry smirked, still feeling the aftershocks of their mental roller coaster. "Thanks for not crashing our epic duel, Sirius. Remus and I were about to summon some fireworks."

Remus massaged his temples as if trying to banish the last remnants of the curse. "It's a bit like discovering you've been wearing an invisibility cloak backwards. You've been walking around with a curse that's been obscuring your view, and suddenly, you're back to seeing clearly."

Sirius, ever quick with the quips, grinned widely. "Invisibility cloak backwards, huh? I'd say it's more like finally getting a solid signal from the Hogwarts' owl post. Welcome back to the land of the living!"

With a wave of his wand, Sirius conjured up three butterbeers, because nothing says 'victory over ancient curses' like a frothy drink. "We should definitely toast to this success," he said, reclining with a satisfied grin. "You know, Harry, not everyone gets to say they've tackled a curse from a legendary creature inside someone else's mind. That's some serious Gryffindor bravery right there."

Harry lifted his butterbeer and raised it in a mock toast. "To more adventures and fewer mind-wolves in the future. I think I've had my fill of supernatural weirdness for one day."

Remus laughed—a deep, genuine laugh that hadn't been heard in years. "Here's to that. And maybe next time, we can just enjoy a peaceful stroll in the Forbidden Forest without any curses."

As they clinked their glasses, Sirius couldn't resist one more jab. "Remember, you can't be serious without a bit of Sirius. I'm the magical ingredient in all your escapades."

Harry rolled his eyes but couldn't suppress a grin. "You're incorrigible, you know that?"

Remus nodded, his eyes reflecting deep gratitude and affection. "And we wouldn't have it any other way."

Surrounded by the comforting hum of the pub, they sat together, knowing that whatever challenges lay ahead, they would face them as a team. After all, that's what friends—and family—are for.

—

In the freezing, damp prison cell of Azkaban, Peter Pettigrew was shivering—not just from the chill, but from the ghosts of his past that seemed to have their own personal vendetta against him. The days had melded into a never-ending blur of torment, each one a reminder of the betrayal that had landed him in this chilly pit of despair. It had been less than a month since his capture, and Peter had already achieved record levels of self-loathing.

Peter's mind meandered back to 1981, a year that felt like it was both ancient history and a fresh wound. Hogwarts had been his happy place, a sanctuary where he'd found a spot among the Marauders: James Potter, Sirius Black, and Remus Lupin. They'd been inseparable, the four of them weaving a tapestry of friendship and mischief. James had been the brave leader, Sirius the charming troublemaker, and Remus the smart and kind one. Peter? Well, Peter had been the guy who made up the numbers.

His feeling of inadequacy had been a ripe target for Voldemort's dark influence. When the Dark Lord came knocking, promising safety and power, Peter had crumbled. The fear of being hunted or worse had driven him straight into Voldemort's arms, and just like that, his moral compass was on vacation.

Peter remembered the fateful night when he had chosen survival over friendship. Meeting with Voldemort's followers, his heart had been pounding like it was auditioning for a role in a horror film. The promises of safety had been too tempting to ignore. He had sold out James and Lily, people who had trusted him completely, people who had thought of him as a friend. 

And then there was the memory of that night—the image of Voldemort's red eyes gleaming like evil Christmas ornaments. Peter had handed over the Potters' location without a second thought, driven by sheer, unadulterated fear. He had convinced himself it was the only option, but deep down, he knew the truth. He had chosen the easy path of cowardice, sacrificing his friends for his own skin.

James's face often appeared in Peter's mind, with his familiar grin that had once been a constant presence. The memory of their last moments together was like a never-ending loop of guilt. James and Lily had placed their lives in Peter's hands, and he'd repaid their trust with betrayal.

In the eerie silence of his cell, Peter could almost hear James's laughter and Lily's warm, caring voice. He had betrayed more than just friends; he had shattered lives. The guilt gnawed at him like a rat at cheese, and the Dementors didn't do much to ease that burden.

Peter's guilt didn't stop with James and Lily. The aftermath of his treachery had involved another act of calculated cruelty. He had framed Sirius Black. He remembered the day vividly—confronting Sirius in a crowded street, causing an explosion that killed twelve Muggles. In the chaos, Peter had severed his own finger and turned into his Animagus form, a rat, leaving behind the finger to frame Sirius for the crime.

The image of Sirius's shocked, betrayed face as he was dragged away by Aurors was a haunting reminder of Peter's cruelty. Sirius had been imprisoned in Azkaban while Peter had scurried off into hiding. It had worked perfectly—Sirius was convicted, and Peter got to live in relative safety, hiding in plain sight as the Weasleys' pet rat. Irony was clearly a fan of dark humor.

As days dragged on, Peter's guilt only deepened. He had betrayed friends, destroyed lives, and hidden from the truth. The faces of James, Lily, and Sirius haunted him relentlessly. The cold stone walls and the relentless chill of Azkaban were fitting for someone who had sacrificed everything for survival.

And then, just as Peter was wallowing in his misery, something shifted. A figure appeared in the dim light of his cell, materializing out of nowhere. This guy was tall, with a pale complexion and red eyes that could make Voldemort's look like they were on vacation. His impeccable dress was a stark contrast to the grime of Azkaban.

Peter's heart raced. This guy looked like Voldemort's doppelgänger but wasn't. His presence was sinister, though not the same kind of malevolent charm Voldemort had. 

The stranger smiled, a cold, calculating expression that could freeze the warmest heart. "Peter Pettigrew," he said, his voice smooth and oddly comforting, "I have an offer you might find... intriguing."

Peter swallowed hard. "Who are you?" he croaked.

The stranger's smile widened. "You can call me Mr. Sinister," he said with a flourish. "And I believe I have something you might be interested in." He paused dramatically. "How does freedom sound?"

The idea of freedom was like a tantalizing mirage. Peter stared into Mr. Sinister's eyes, sensing both an opportunity and a danger that he couldn't quite place.

As the darkness of Azkaban closed in, Peter Pettigrew faced a new choice—one that could shift his fate yet again. The offer of freedom hung in the air, almost within reach. But Peter had learned the hard way that not all offers come without a steep price.

—

Sirius Black stormed into the Ministry of Magic like a hurricane in a tailor-made suit. If you had a dictionary entry for "disgruntled," it would feature a photo of him. His face was set in a permanent scowl, and his hair—messier than a Whomping Willow on a bad hair day—flared out in every direction.

He marched through the atrium, his footsteps echoing with the kind of determination that would make a Gryffindor proud. Sirius wasn't exactly known for his patience or his tact, especially when dealing with incompetence. He had a knack for taking issues and throwing them into the spotlight, usually by shouting loudly and waving his arms around. Today, his target was Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic, and Dolores Umbridge, who was even more unpleasant than a five-day-old potion gone wrong.

Just as Sirius was about to give Fudge a piece of his mind that would likely involve a lot of yelling and a few creative insults, he was intercepted by two familiar faces. Alastor Moody, with his magical eye swiveling in all directions, and Amelia Bones, who looked like she had just stepped out of a board meeting where someone had suggested she was a pushover.

"Sirius!" Amelia called out, her voice firm but not unkind. "Before you go bursting into Fudge's office like a firecracker, let's have a word."

Sirius stopped mid-stride, his scowl softening into a look of genuine surprise. "Amelia, Moody. Fancy meeting you two here. I was just about to—"

"Go blow a gasket at Fudge and Umbridge?" Moody finished for him. He looked as if he had just chewed through a particularly tough piece of leather. "Not a bad idea, but maybe we can get you back in the game without the theatrics."

Amelia gave Sirius a look that was both exasperated and amused. "We've all seen what happens when you charge into situations without a plan. Remember the last time you tried to single-handedly take on a horde of Cornish pixies?"

Sirius winced. "Hey, those pixies were asking for it. Besides, what's life without a bit of chaos?"

Amelia's eyes narrowed slightly. "How about a little less chaos and a little more strategy? I'm offering you a chance to get back to work as a Hit-Wizard. We could use someone with your—let's call it 'enthusiasm'—to track down Pettigrew."

Sirius's eyes lit up, his previous frustration morphing into a spark of hope. "You're reinstating me? After all this time?"

"Only if you can manage to keep your head attached to your shoulders while doing it," Amelia said dryly. "You might have a tendency to jump in headfirst, but you're still one of the best."

Moody, always the pragmatist, nodded in agreement. "We need someone who knows Pettigrew's tricks. You've been through hell and back. If anyone can track him down, it's you."

Sirius grinned, the edges of his scowl turning into something closer to a satisfied smirk. "Well, if you insist. Besides, I'd rather be out there making a difference than yelling at clueless bureaucrats."

Amelia handed him a parchment, which Sirius accepted with a flourish. "Let's hope you can find Pettigrew before he makes another mess of things. And Sirius?"

"Yes?"

"Try not to blow up any more enchanted objects this time."

Sirius laughed, a sound that was equal parts genuine mirth and pent-up frustration. "No promises, but I'll do my best."

With that, Sirius, Amelia, and Moody set off to tackle the problem at hand. Sirius was about to dive back into the fray, determined to find Pettigrew and prove that, even after everything, he was still very much a force to be reckoned with. And maybe—just maybe—he'd do it with a little less chaos this time.

—

The Daily Prophet

Exclusive: The Mysterious Escape of Peter Pettigrew from Azkaban

By Rita Skeeter

Darlings, prepare yourselves for the juiciest gossip of the year! In an unbelievable twist, Peter Pettigrew, the infamous rat who betrayed the Potters, has managed to escape from Azkaban! Yes, that's right – the very same Azkaban that supposedly nobody can break out of. And what's even more shocking? This is the second escape in as many months! First Sirius Black, and now Pettigrew. Is Azkaban turning into a leaky cauldron?

Peter Pettigrew, recently captured during Sirius Black's sensational trial that cleared Sirius's name, has slipped through the fingers of our so-called "most secure" prison less than a month after being locked up. How does something like this happen? The wizarding world demands answers, and I, Rita Skeeter, am here to provide them.

Albus Dumbledore, the venerable Headmaster of Hogwarts, usually the epitome of calm, seemed rather ruffled for once. "This is a serious breach of security. Azkaban is meant to be impenetrable, especially under the watchful eyes of the Dementors. Peter Pettigrew's escape suggests that we must reevaluate our methods of containment and ensure that such a lapse does not occur again."

Oh, Dumbledore, losing your cool? It's about time! The world's greatest wizard, finally admitting that things aren't as under control as he'd like us to believe?

Cornelius Fudge, our beleaguered Minister for Magic, tried to downplay the disaster with his usual empty promises. "We are conducting a full investigation into how Pettigrew managed to flee. This incident is isolated, and we are taking all necessary measures to prevent any further breaches. The safety of our citizens is our utmost priority."

Isolated incident, Fudge? First Sirius, now Pettigrew – two escapes in two months sounds more like a pattern of incompetence! Perhaps it's time for the Minister to stop making excuses and start making real changes.

Amelia Bones, the ever-determined Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, provided a more realistic take. "The circumstances surrounding Pettigrew's escape are highly unusual. We are working tirelessly to uncover any external assistance he may have received. Rest assured, those responsible will be held accountable, and Pettigrew will be recaptured."

Thank goodness for Madam Bones, who at least appears to be taking this seriously. But can even she restore the shattered confidence in our prison system?

Theories are flying faster than a Firebolt. Some say Pettigrew, with his Animagus rat form, simply slipped through the bars. If true, Azkaban's security is even more of a joke than we thought! Others whisper about dark forces at work, maybe old allies of You-Know-Who aiding their treacherous comrade from the shadows. 

And let's not forget Sirius Black, freshly exonerated and undoubtedly furious. "It's infuriating to think that after all we've been through, he could slip away so easily. The Ministry needs to take a hard look at how they handle such dangerous prisoners."

Indeed, Sirius, we couldn't agree more. The Ministry must address these glaring flaws before another catastrophe unfolds.

In a desperate attempt to save face, the Ministry of Magic has announced heightened security measures at Azkaban and throughout the wizarding world. Aurors have been dispatched to hunt for Pettigrew, and the public is urged to remain vigilant.

This latest fiasco is not just a stain on Azkaban's reputation but a glaring indictment of our Ministry's ability to protect us. As the wizarding world gasps in collective shock and horror, the hunt for Pettigrew is on. Will justice be served, or will this slippery rat evade capture once again? 

Stay tuned to The Daily Prophet, dear readers, as I, Rita Skeeter, will bring you every tantalizing detail and scandalous revelation as this story unfolds. You won't want to miss a single juicy moment!

—

The streets of London were a chaotic whirlwind of people and noise as Harry, Sirius, and their motley crew navigated their way from the Leaky Cauldron to King's Cross Station. It was like trying to herd cats in a tornado. The group included the perpetually chaotic Weasley twins, Hermione, Remus Lupin, the ever-bouncing Tonks, and the trio of Ororo Munroe, Jean Grey, and Susan Bones.

Harry was walking beside Sirius, who had taken up the role of a human hurricane, making conversation difficult. "So, Sirius, when did you find the time to give an interview to Rita Skeeter?" Harry asked, unable to contain his curiosity.

Sirius shot him a grin that could only be described as a mix of mischief and disbelief. "Oh, Harry, you know me. I wouldn't give that vulture the time of day. I'm not about to sit down for a cuppa with her."

Ron, who had been eavesdropping as usual, chimed in from behind. "But she quoted you in her article about Pettigrew's escape. Made it sound like you were shouting from the rooftops!"

Sirius rolled his eyes dramatically. "Rita Skeeter twisting my words? Shocking. She probably just made up some headline-worthy nonsense. I'd bet a sack of Galleons she heard me ranting at a Ministry meeting and decided to go with that."

Hermione nodded, always the voice of reason in a sea of chaos. "Skeeter's specialty is exaggeration. She probably took something you said ages ago and blew it way out of proportion."

Remus Lupin, ever the calm presence in the storm, added with a thoughtful expression, "Skeeter does have a knack for showing up where she's least wanted. Given how vocal you've been about Pettigrew's escape, it's entirely possible she overheard something and ran with it."

Sirius sighed, the sound carrying the weight of too many years of frustration. "I've been a bit loud about the Ministry's handling of Azkaban. Rita must have pieced together my various rants."

Tonks, her hair a shifting kaleidoscope of colors, laughed. "You do have a talent for being a bit... enthusiastic, Sirius. That's probably why Rita can't resist you."

Ororo Munroe, ever the embodiment of calm, added with a hint of regal authority, "Regardless of Skeeter's antics, we need to stay focused. Pettigrew's escape is a serious matter. We don't need misinformation adding to the chaos."

Jean Grey nodded, her gaze shifting between Harry and the rest of the group. "And from what I've read, Skeeter has a knack for turning even the smallest comment into a full-blown headline. We need to be careful."

Fred and George Weasley, who were a few steps ahead, exchanged grins that were practically a telepathic communication of mischief. Fred turned back, his eyes gleaming. "We could always give Skeeter something really juicy to write about."

George, never one to miss a beat, added, "Like a wild story about Pettigrew hiding out in Knockturn Alley. That would really stir things up."

Mrs. Weasley shot them a look that could have melted steel. "Enough of that, you two. We've got more important things to focus on."

Susan Bones, who had been quietly observing, finally spoke up. "Let's just get to King's Cross and make sure we get to Hogwarts safely. We can handle Skeeter's stories later."

Harry noticed Susan glancing at him with a shy smile and couldn't help but feel a bit awkward. It was clear she had developed a crush, and he also saw the unmistakable chemistry between him and Jean. It was like trying to dance on a tightrope while juggling flaming torches—awkward and intense.

As they continued their walk, the conversation meandered through lighter topics, but the undercurrent of concern for Pettigrew's escape was always there. Ron was talking about the latest Quidditch match with more enthusiasm than accuracy, while Hermione kept the twins in check. The group's camaraderie was a comforting reminder of the support they had for each other, even as the threat of Pettigrew loomed over them.

Harry couldn't help but feel a sense of warmth from his friends and family. The day was filled with a blend of humor and seriousness, much like the magical world they navigated together. As they approached King's Cross, the echoes of their laughter mingled with their shared resolve, making it clear that, no matter the danger, they would face it together.

—

As the group navigated the bustling streets of London, anticipation crackled in the air like static electricity before a storm. The Weasleys, Hermione, Harry, Sirius, Remus, Tonks, Ororo, Jean, and Susan moved as one, their camaraderie more solid than a spellbook's binding.

Excitement buzzed around them as they approached the station, the iconic red bricks of Platform 9¾ just ahead. The sunlight glinted off the polished surfaces, casting a warm, golden glow over the crowd of Muggles and magical folk alike.

Sirius led the charge with his usual swagger, like a captain about to steer his ship through stormy seas. He flashed a roguish grin at the group. "Alright, folks, let's show these Muggles what it means to be magical. Follow me!"

With a dramatic flourish, he headed straight for the solid barrier between platforms 9 and 10. The group followed, with Harry feeling a familiar rush of magic as he approached. It was like stepping into a refreshing shower after a long, hot day. With a burst of movement, they passed through the barrier, disappearing into the ethereal veil of magic.

Harry felt the tingle of enchantment envelop him, and with a whoosh, he emerged onto Platform 9¾. It was like stepping into a postcard from another world—the platform was alive with the buzz of students, the clatter of trolley wheels, and the unmistakable sight of the Hogwarts Express billowing steam into the air.

Behind him, the rest of the group emerged, each wearing a grin that could rival a winning lottery ticket.

The Hogwarts Express loomed in front of them, its scarlet paint gleaming and steam swirling like a giant, magical dragon. Students and parents alike were scattered across the platform, each caught up in their own blend of excitement and nerves. It was a sensory overload of magic, anticipation, and the occasional squabble over luggage.

Harry took a deep breath, letting the enchantment of the scene sink in. The start of a new school year was always a mix of thrilling and nerve-wracking, but with this incredible group by his side, he felt ready for whatever came next.

—

As the group neared Platform 9¾, Jean's eyes went wide, as if she'd just spotted a unicorn in a field of daisies. The Hogwarts Express stood before her like a magical dream come to life, its scarlet paint gleaming like it had just been polished by a team of tiny, enchanted elves. The train was not just any train—it was a dazzling spectacle of gold detailing and steam clouds that made it look like it was about to burst into song.

Jean couldn't help but feel a jolt of excitement, like the kind you get when you're about to meet your favorite superhero. The platform buzzed with the kind of activity that could only mean one thing: Hogwarts was about to get even more crowded with kids, families, and floating luggage. It was like someone had taken the most chaotic parts of a fairground and mixed it with the thrill of a magical adventure.

Jean glanced around, taking in the scene with a grin. There were students chatting animatedly, their faces lit up with the kind of joy you only see when a new school year is on the horizon. Parents waved goodbye, trying not to look too misty-eyed, while trunks and owls floated by, looking like they were trying to get in on the action.

If Jean had to describe the scene in one word, it would be "electric." The whole platform felt charged with anticipation, and she couldn't help but be swept up in it. Hogwarts wasn't just a school—it was a place where magic and wonder came together in a way that made you forget about everything else. And as she stood there, taking in the grand spectacle of the Hogwarts Express, Jean knew she was about to be part of something truly extraordinary.

—

As the Hogwarts Express began to fill with the buzz of excited students, Sirius snagged Harry's attention with a wave. "Harry!" he called out, his voice full of a mix of mischief and seriousness. "Over here!"

Harry, curious and always eager for one of Sirius's cryptic chats, headed over to his godfather, weaving through a sea of chattering students and floating luggage.

"Harry, let's have a quick word before you dive into the chaos of the train," Sirius began, his expression a blend of warmth and concern.

Harry nodded, all ears. "What's up, Sirius?"

Sirius took a quick glance around to ensure they weren't eavesdropped on by any overly curious first-years. "We've had a lot of craziness recently, with Pettigrew's escape and everything else. As you start this new school year, I want you to remember something."

Harry leaned in, knowing Sirius was about to drop some pearls of wisdom. "What's that?"

Sirius's gaze softened, though it remained intense. "You're never alone in this, Harry. You've got friends who care about you, who are ready to back you up. Whether it's figuring out your next big potion assignment or dealing with whatever trouble comes your way, remember they've got your back."

Harry felt a wave of gratitude. "Thanks, Sirius. I know I'm lucky to have such great friends."

Sirius clapped him on the shoulder with a grin that suggested he had something more up his sleeve. "That's the spirit. Now, go enjoy the ride. This year's going to be full of surprises, but I've got a hunch you'll handle them like a champ."

Harry smiled back. "I'll do my best."

Just as Harry was about to head off, Sirius leaned in with a glint in his eye that suggested trouble was brewing. "Oh, and one more thing, Harry. I think it's time to bring a bit of the Marauder's mischief back to Hogwarts. You're the new generation now."

Harry's grin widened. "You're talking about pranks, aren't you?"

Sirius chuckled. "You catch on quick. I've got a few tricks in mind, but I could use your help. Up for it?"

Harry's eyes sparkled with excitement. "Count me in. It's not a proper Hogwarts year without a bit of fun."

With a shared laugh and a mischievous sparkle in their eyes, Harry rejoined his friends on the train, ready to kick off the school year with a blend of excitement, magic, and, of course, a touch of Marauder-style trouble.

—

As the Hogwarts Express chugged along, Hermione, Jean, Susan, Ron, and Harry snagged an empty compartment and settled in, ready to kick off the school year. They flung their bags onto the racks and plopped into the plush seats like they were claiming their personal thrones for the journey.

The compartment quickly filled with the sounds of animated chatter. Hermione was practically vibrating with curiosity. "Okay, spill the beans! What wild adventures did you all get up to this summer?"

Just then, Susan's face lit up as if she'd had a sudden epiphany involving a particularly tasty dessert. "Oh, wait! I just remembered—Hannah's on this train too!" She leaped to her feet with the kind of determination that could only mean she was on a mission. "I'll go fetch her. She'll love hanging out with us."

With that, Susan darted down the narrow corridor, weaving through the crowd like a determined game show contestant on a scavenger hunt. Her friends exchanged knowing glances and smiles, fully expecting Susan's enthusiasm to result in something memorable.

A few minutes later, Susan reappeared, her grin so wide it could've rivaled a Cheshire cat's, with another girl in tow. "Look who I found!" Susan announced with a flourish. "It's Hannah! She's joining our party!"

Hannah, the embodiment of Hufflepuff warmth and friendliness, slipped into the compartment with a cheerful wave. "Hey, everyone! Thanks for letting me join the fun, Susan."

"Of course, Hannah!" Hermione said, patting the seat next to her. "We're thrilled to have you."

With Hannah now part of their crew, the conversation picked up even more steam, filled with laughter, stories, and the excitement of what the new school year would bring. As the train sped along, the friends settled in, their anticipation for Hogwarts growing with every mile. The Hogwarts Express was more than just a train ride—it was the start of a new chapter, and they were ready to dive into whatever magical madness awaited them.

---

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