When Harry went to comfort her, Ginny flashed a shy expression that stuck vividly in Hodge's memory.
Of course, she also discreetly rolled her eyes at him, as if blaming him for stirring up trouble. Later, she subtly maneuvered to keep Hodge and Harry apart, treating him like some kind of meddling friend.
Hodge didn't mind.
From this, he pieced together some insights: Ginny was still Ginny—no dark wizard had possessed her, no thoughts had been tampered with. But one thing was crystal clear—she definitely knew the secret of the Horcrux.
Could Sebastian Sallow know about Horcruxes too?
The scales in Hodge's mind began to tip.
He had two theories about the source of the magical incident: either a dark wizard's interference or a rare natural magical phenomenon. After a year of investigation and gathering information, he'd learned about Sebastian Sallow. At first, he held only mild suspicions, as even Dumbledore couldn't confirm if Sallow was linked to the incident. But just before the holidays, when Hodge woke up in the hospital wing, a new memory surfaced in his mind—a memory with details that matched Sebastian perfectly.
Sebastian pursued ancient magic, and the person in the memory practiced ancient magic too. Sebastian wanted to save his sister, and the figure in the memory was willing to risk their life for something significant...
But even if Ginny had gained some of these memories, it didn't add up. Sebastian Sallow couldn't possibly predict the future—could he? Hodge wasn't entirely sure. He considered Time-Turners and Divination magic. What if Sebastian had used ancient magic to survive into the present? Or perhaps he'd tapped into some prophecy...
Even as he boarded the Hogwarts Express, Hodge still couldn't make up his mind.
The train soon left the platform, chugging through sprawling fields. Hodge sat in a compartment with a few roommates, chatting about their summer holidays.
"I spent the entire break at home. Utterly boring," Terry said quickly, looking eagerly at the others, hoping for some exciting stories.
"I visited relatives," Anthony Goldstein said, practically glowing. "I begged my parents to let me stay with the Scamanders for a bit. Spent two weeks there and saw tons of magical creatures... Aunt Tina even gave me a piece of Occamy eggshell with a painting of an Occamy family on it..."
Everyone listened, captivated. It took a while for Anthony to finish his tale.
Michael Corner started talking about his new broom. "A Cleansweep Six! You know, the team all uses Cleansweep Sevens... it's a tad worse, but good enough for practice. I can upgrade later." He glanced eagerly at the luggage rack overhead, as if itching to pull it down and show it off.
Hodge found it amusing. From Michael's tone, you'd think he'd already made the Quidditch team.
At the same time, Hodge felt a bit dazed. Just a few months ago, on the train ride back to London, he'd played out little scenarios in his head, imagining his friends' summer plans. Maybe because he knew them so well, some of the details they shared matched his guesses perfectly. It gave him an odd sense of brushing against fate.
Who knows, maybe he really had a knack for Divination.
Hodge decided he'd give it a shot in third year. If it was just an illusion, well, he'd have to settle for a career in storytelling.
"What about you, Hodge?" Terry asked.
Hodge snapped out of his thoughts. "Me? Well... you know the Zombie Trail? My uncle works for a travel agency, and one of his jobs is changing the zombies' clothes. Some of them aren't too happy about it—they're weirdly attached to their Easter outfits..."
Mid-conversation, a young girl drifted into the compartment, looking slightly dazed.
"I heard Hodge Blackthorn was in this compartment," she said, scanning the group.
Her tangled, waist-length dirty blonde hair framed a pair of slightly bulging gray eyes. She spoke with a calm expression, as if addressing the air itself.
Everyone in the compartment turned to Hodge.
"That's me," Hodge said.
The girl walked over without hesitation, looking at Terry. "May I sit here?"
"Oh, sure," Terry said, quickly scooting over to make room. Once she sat, he shot Hodge a series of exaggerated winks and eyebrow wiggles.
"You're Luna, right?" Hodge said quickly.
"Luna Lovegood," she replied, pulling a small notebook from somewhere.
"I've corresponded with her father. Mr. Lovegood edits The Quibbler. He helped me a lot last year," Hodge explained. Michael Corner raised a skeptical eyebrow. "I thought you two knew each other."
"We wrote letters."
"She answered her dad's letters for him."
"He even sent a photo."
"Of the castle gates."
Luna stared at Hodge with her wide gray eyes, looking mildly puzzled.
"Of course, we're friends. First time meeting in person," Hodge said solemnly, shaking her hand. Luna set down her notebook with equal seriousness and reintroduced herself.
Terry, Anthony, and Michael looked a bit dazed by the exchange.
Then Luna opened her notebook and lowered her voice. "A few months ago, I begged Dad to let me visit the Waffling family. I gathered some... intelligence." The atmosphere felt odd, maybe because of the faintly mischievous glint in her eyes. She raised a pale eyebrow, as if asking Hodge whether she should share it publicly.
"Er... go ahead and say it," Hodge said.
"The Wafflings live in Devon. Their address is..."
Terry, Anthony, and Michael exchanged glances. While Luna described the layout of the Waffling house, Hodge briefly explained Mr. Waffling's ordeal to his roommates. They were immediately hooked.
"So, what happened in the green cottage? Does Waffling remember anything from before?" Terry asked, hitting on exactly the question Hodge was curious about.
Luna flipped to the next page in her notebook. Hodge leaned over and saw a single word scrawled on it: "Nightmare."
"He doesn't remember what happened, but he's been having nightmares?" Hodge guessed.
"Mr. Waffling said that after he returned, he started having nightmares—well, maybe not nightmares. The scenes are quite peaceful," Luna said. "He dreams he's praying in a church."
The compartment filled with awed gasps.
Terry's eyes widened. "Remember the holiday homework? The history of the church burning witches? Waffling isn't going through some awful torment, is he?"
"The Ministry wouldn't do that," Anthony said, frowning. He had family working at the Ministry.
"Does Mr. Waffling follow a religion?" Hodge asked.
Luna shook her head slightly.
The compartment fell quiet. Terry, Anthony, and Michael dove into an enthusiastic discussion about the story. From their perspective, it was practically a ghost tale—a traditional wizard, caught up in a magical incident, taken from the hospital by the Ministry, subjected to restricted freedom and secret interrogations, only to return home plagued by dreams of churches.
Hodge didn't join in. He'd had church-related dreams too, during the Christmas holidays, the very night he'd learned Sebastian Sallow's name from Umbridge. In that dream, he and Harry had gotten into a fight.
Just then, the compartment door slid open again.
It was Hermione, looking deeply anxious.
————
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