If it hadn't been Snape in charge of their journey, Ron and Harry might have actually enjoyed the view.
The carriage hurtled forward at a breathtaking pace—so fast, in fact, that Harry was certain it outstripped even the speediest broomstick. Clouds whipped by in a blur, and once or twice a bird flashed past, wings beating furiously to keep up.
Neither boy knew much about birds. Harry found himself thinking, If only Wyzett or Hermione were here, they'd probably know exactly what sort of birds those were.
But mostly, their attention was fixed on Snape, trying to figure out what he was doing. What they saw was nothing short of bizarre: just ahead, where Snape sat, bloody chunks of meat would suddenly appear out of nowhere.
Snape tossed each piece forward, one by one. The meat would hang in midair, then something invisible would tear it apart and—just like that—it vanished.
It was clear now: whatever was pulling the carriage was some kind of magical beast. It was fast—unbelievably fast—and it apparently had a taste for fresh, bloody meat.
"We'd better not see it…" Ron's voice quivered. "Mum always says there are things in the wizarding world… if you see them, you'll bring all sorts of terrible luck!"
Even wizards, it seemed, had their superstitions.
The wild ride continued until the sun began to set, casting golden light over the landscape as they descended onto a winding, rocky path.
Snape's voice rang out: "Finite Incantatem!"
Suddenly, Harry and Ron could see each other again. Both looked exhilarated—though it was hard to tell if it was from excitement or relief.
What really made their hearts leap was the sight through the carriage window: distant, majestic Hogwarts Castle.
The road was still bumpy, but somehow, it didn't seem so bad anymore.
Finally, the carriage rolled through an ornate wrought-iron gate—flanked by stone pillars topped with winged boars—and officially entered the grounds of Hogwarts.
"This has to be the main entrance! Hermione will probably come through here, too!" Ron twisted around to look at the stone columns, eyes shining.
The carriage came to a halt. Before they could even reach for their luggage, Snape cut in, "Leave your trunks. They'll be sent to your dormitory. You—follow me."
Harry and Ron exchanged a look of utter resignation. There was nothing for it but to trail after Snape through the castle's echoing halls.
Nearly Headless Nick floated by, his eyes wide. His head slipped sideways, dangling by a thread of sinew. "You're here already?"
"Yeah…" Harry and Ron replied, too drained to muster enthusiasm.
They caught a glimpse of the Great Hall, ablaze with light and the promise of the start-of-term feast. But Snape gave them no chance to enter, leading them instead down stone stairs toward the dungeons.
"We're here." Snape's face was as cold as a block of ice. "Inside."
This was Snape's office, and the chill in the air matched his expression. Dim light flickered across shelves lined with glass jars, each containing something pale and pickled, floating in murky liquid.
The only thing in the room that looked remotely alive was a squat, pink mushroom on a wooden table. As they drew closer, Harry and Ron realized it was covered in bristly black hair and sprouted wriggling tentacles, which were busily devouring a worm.
"Don't touch that!" Snape's voice cracked like a whip, his glare even frostier. "Stay here until Professor McGonagall comes for you."
He paused, eyes glinting. "And if you do touch it, I'd be more than happy to remove a part of your anatomy… and pickle it for my collection."
Harry and Ron scrambled to the farthest corner, away from the mushrooms and—most importantly—Snape. They muttered prayers for Professor McGonagall to arrive soon.
Night had fallen by the time a familiar voice echoed through the train carriages.
"In five minutes, the Hogwarts Express will arrive at the station. Please leave your luggage on board; it will be delivered to your dormitory."
Luna woke with a start, hugging her little pillow. "Are you sore?"
Wyzett flexed his arms and grinned. "Are you?"
Luna giggled. "No, I feel great."
"Good!" Wyzett nodded. "Me too. Let's get ready to get off."
Their roommates were stirring as well.
Nearby, Michael groaned, "Ah—my neck… I think it's snapped!"
The rest of the compartment woke up with similar moans and grumbles.
After a few quick healing charms to ease the aches, Wyzett let his roommates leave first and led Luna over to Hagrid.
Towering above the crowd, lantern in hand, Hagrid was calling out, "First years, this way!"
"Wyzett! Your little sister—I remember her!" He waved his free hand. "Leave her to me, lad. See you at the feast!"
Wyzett waved back. "See you at the feast!"
Luna waggled her mistletoe bracelet and crystal ball charm. "I'll be fine on my own. Go on!"
"Alright. See you soon."
"See you soon!"
…
Retracing his steps, Wyzett made his way back toward the station, taking a familiar side path. He'd walked this way last Christmas, so it felt almost routine.
There weren't many carriages left. He opened the door of one that hadn't yet departed—only to find it already occupied.
"Why haven't we left yet? What are we waiting for?"
"Goyle and Crabbe were napping. I woke them up," replied a thin-lipped girl and Draco Malfoy.
If he remembered correctly, the girl was Pansy Parkinson.
"Wyzett Lovegood?" Draco spoke first.
"That's me." Wyzett nodded, already planning to find another carriage.
To his surprise, Draco offered, "Since you're here… why not ride with us? The carriage won't move unless it's full, you know…"
Draco's eyes flickered, as if he was hoping for something.
"Alright." Wyzett didn't hesitate, taking a seat across from them.
Draco looked relieved, even pumping his fist in a tiny, triumphant gesture. Pansy crossed her arms and pursed her lips, closing her eyes in a huff.
After a moment, the carriage door swung shut and they began to move.
Draco cleared his throat, gaze darting between Wyzett and the window. "I wonder what magic makes these carriages move on their own?"
Pansy remained silent.
Sensing Draco's awkwardness, Wyzett hummed thoughtfully. "Maybe it's some kind of magical creature. Like a Thestral?"
"Could be!" Draco jumped in, eager. "You really know a lot!"
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