After farewells to Hagrid, Ethan and Aria set off on the slow walk toward the castle. The familiar stone path climbed gently beneath them, worn smooth by generations of footsteps. Ahead, clusters of students filled the air with laughter and easy chatter, their voices drifting back in bright echoes. Others moved more slowly and silently, laden with trunks and lost in private thoughts of the year that lay just beyond the castle gates.
Ethan adjusted his hold on Nina, cradling the small cat close. She nestled in comfortably, her tail flicking in slow, contented arcs while her bright eyes observed everything with gentle, unhurried interest. A few steps in front, Aria walked with her hands clasped behind her back. There was a quiet assurance in her posture, the kind that belongs only to children who have never known a world without magic. She moved as though the castle were already hers, its great spires rising and ancient stones stretching out like natural extensions of her daily life.
After a moment of quiet walking, Ethan spoke, his tone casual and curious. "So, Aria, how old are you?"
She did not slow her pace, though she tilted her head slightly as if considering whether the question deserved much thought. "I just turned nine years old last month," she replied, her voice light.
Ethan smiled. "Then happy birthday to you, Aria. Nine is an important age, you know."
She glanced back at him briefly, one eyebrow lifting. "Is it?"
"Of course," he said. "You are old enough to remember things clearly and young enough for the world to still feel a little magical, even without a wand."
Aria seemed to think about that, then shrugged and turned forward again. Ethan continued, curiosity nudging him onward. "So do you always come to Hogwarts? I mean, will you be staying here for the whole year?"
"Yes," Aria answered easily. "Mommy came to Hogwarts to teach last year, so I was here then too. This year is the same."
Ethan hummed in understanding. "I see. So that is how it is." He hesitated briefly before asking another question. "What about Muggle school? Did you attend one before?"
This time Aria sighed, the sound exaggerated and dramatic in a way that only children could manage. "Yes, I did. I went until last year. Then I had to leave because Mommy was coming to Hogwarts, and I had to come with her so she would not be alone here."
Ethan smiled at that, warmth settling in his chest. "That is very thoughtful of you. Your mother is lucky to have such a considerate daughter."
Aria sniffed, though there was a hint of pride in her eyes. "Someone has to look after her."
They walked in silence for a few moments, the castle growing larger with each step. Its towers loomed overhead, sunlight catching on the tall windows and casting long shadows across the courtyard below. Ethan watched Aria carefully, noting the way her expression shifted as she took in the familiar sight, a mixture of fondness and mild annoyance.
He cleared his throat gently. "So where is your father? Is he also coming to Hogwarts?"
The moment the words left his mouth, Ethan regretted them. Aria slowed, though she did not stop. The lively bounce in her step faded, replaced by a quiet stillness. For several seconds, she said nothing at all, her gaze fixed ahead on the castle doors.
Ethan swallowed, suddenly aware that he might have crossed an invisible line. He knew a little about Lily Evans from the files Olivia had given him, but those records were sparse and impersonal, filled with dates, achievements, and official notes. They said nothing of marriages, of love, or of the quiet truths that shaped a person's life.
At last, Aria spoke, her voice softer than before. "I do not know my father. I have never seen him. Mommy says he is in a foreign country working and that he will come back someday."
Embarrassment washed over Ethan. He felt foolish for asking, for prying into something so personal. "I am sorry," he said quickly. "I did not mean to ask something that might upset you."
She shrugged again, though this time it lacked its earlier ease. "It is okay. I am used to it."
Ethan nodded, then said gently, "I am sure your father will come back for you one day."
Aria shook her head, a small smile tugging at her lips. "It is fine. I do not need that. I have Mommy, and I have two big brothers. Even though they do not like me very much, I still like them."
That caught Ethan's attention. "Two big brothers?"
"Yes," she continued. "Brother Harris ignores me every time he comes. He never plays with me at all. And Brother Harry bullies me. He plays pranks on me every time he visits our house."
Her voice took on a slightly indignant tone. "He says that because of me, Mommy does not live with him."
Ethan frowned faintly as he listened. He stepped closer and reached out, gently patting her head. "Do not listen to words like that. It is not true. Your mother is with you because she wants to be and because she loves you. That is what matters."
Aria immediately pulled away, shooting him a sharp look. "Of course I know that. He is just jealous because Mommy loves me more than him and lives with me." She paused, then added sternly, "And do not touch my hair. You will ruin my hairstyle."
Ethan laughed, raising his hands in surrender. "My apologies, princess. I will be more careful."
She rolled her eyes at him, but there was a spark of amusement there as well. "Good."
They reached the courtyard, the wide space echoing with footsteps and voices. Aria stopped and looked around, then sighed loudly. "I have returned again to this boring place."
Ethan chuckled. "Well, princess, you will be studying here in at least the next seven years. You should get used to it."
She groaned. "At least when I am older, I will have a wand and can do magic and have friends. Right now all I can do is stay in Mommy's office and read books or go visit Hagrid. Most students ignore me or treat me like a baby."
"You are still a child," Ethan said gently. "They are probably just being careful around you. You are their professor's daughter, after all."
Aria considered this, then looked at Nina in Ethan's arms. "Then can I play with Nina sometimes? I will be very bored if I am alone."
Nina chose that moment to stretch, her paws pressing lightly against Ethan's chest. He smiled and nodded. "Of course. You can play with her as much as you like."
Aria's face brightened.
"And," Ethan continued, "if you are ever very bored, you can visit my office. I am free most of the time. I can teach you things if you want to learn, though you will need permission from your mother first."
Her eyes widened. "Really? I can do that?"
"Yes," he said. "You can."
She laughed, the sound light and genuine. "Then I will visit you. I don't want my neighbor to be alone in this big castle."
Ethan laughed as well, amused by how she had turned the situation around. There was something about her that stirred a distant memory, a reminder of a childhood friend he had known long ago. The thought warmed him unexpectedly.
They were nearly at the entrance when a voice called out behind them. "Are you Ethan Thorne, perhaps?"
Ethan turned at the sound of his name, the easy smile he had been wearing softening into one of polite curiosity as he prepared to answer. He had expected perhaps a student, or one of the staff, maybe even Professor McGonagall returning with a final instruction before his first class for next week. Instead, he found himself facing a small group of unfamiliar adults who stood out sharply against the usual rhythm of Hogwarts grounds.
They were dressed too finely, too deliberately, their robes pressed and immaculate in a way that spoke of public appearances rather than academic duty. There were five of them in total, all men, each watching him with varying degrees of interest. Quills and small notebooks were already in hand, and one man lingered slightly behind the others with what was unmistakably a magical camera resting against his chest.
Ethan straightened instinctively.
"Yes, I am Ethan Thorne," he said evenly, his voice calm but cautious. "What can I do for you, gentlemen?"
As he spoke, his eyes moved from face to face, searching for recognition and finding none. Professor McGonagall had not mentioned anyone coming to see him, let alone a group like this. His unease deepened slightly when one of the men stepped forward.
He stood noticeably short, his nearly bald scalp shining softly under the morning light. His robes were of the finest cut and fabric, expensive garments meant to command attention rather than weather the outdoors, and a heavy, gleaming ring caught the sun on one plump finger as he extended his hand. His smile spread broad and warm across his face, almost too warm, too ready, the careful product of long practice rather than natural feeling.
"Oh, finally," the man said, his voice smooth and enthusiastic. "I have been hoping for this moment. I am absolutely delighted to be acquainted with you, our hero. I am quite certain you already know who I am."
Ethan blinked, momentarily taken aback by the familiarity in the man's tone. The face did seem faintly familiar now that he looked more closely, though he could not immediately place it. Still, refusing a handshake would be rude, so he accepted it, his grip firm but reserved.
"I am afraid I do not," Ethan replied honestly. "But it is a pleasure to meet you."
The man laughed lightly, clearly amused rather than offended, and tightened his grip just a fraction longer than necessary before releasing it.
"Oh, of course, of course," he said. "Then allow me to introduce myself properly. My name is Oswin Selvanos, candidate for the position of Minister for Magic."
Recognition struck Ethan all at once.
Newspapers. Campaign posters. Carefully edited photographs accompanied by flattering headlines and ambitious promises. That was why the man had seemed familiar. Oswin Selvanos looked far more ordinary in person than he did in print, shorter and rounder, his charisma relying more on performance than presence. Still, Ethan smiled politely. Politics demanded courtesy, whether one respected it or not.
"Of course," Ethan said. "I know who you are, Mister Selvanos. I have heard quite a bit about your achievements."
Selvanos laughed again, clearly pleased.
"Well, I am delighted to hear that," he replied. "But today I did not come to speak about myself. No, I came specifically to see you, and to thank you."
Before Ethan could respond, movement at the edge of his vision caught his attention. The man with the magical camera stepped forward, raising the device and adjusting its lens. At the same time, Ethan noticed the scratching of quills as the others began to write more intently in their notebooks.
Journalists.
The realization settled like a weight in his chest.
He opened his mouth to object, to put an end to this before it became something else entirely, but he was interrupted by a sudden tug at his side.
He felt Aria shift behind him, her small hand was holding onto his sleeve, a fact he had not consciously noticed until now. The cameraman frowned slightly as his gaze landed on her. Without warning, the man reached down and grasped her wrist.
"Out of the way, girl," the man said dismissively. "The grownups are talking. Go play somewhere else."
The words were sharp, careless, and entirely inappropriate.
Aria froze. Her fingers tightened around Ethan's sleeve, her eyes widening with discomfort and a hint of fear. The sight was enough.
Ethan reacted without thought.
His hand closed around the cameraman's wrist with controlled but unmistakable strength, forcing the man to release Aria immediately. He stepped between them in one fluid motion, drawing Aria to his other side and placing himself squarely in front of her.
"Do not touch her," Ethan said, his voice low and cold. "Has no one ever taught you not to put your hands on children, or do you simply not understand personal boundaries?"
The cameraman stiffened, forcing an uneasy smile that did not reach his eyes.
"Oh, no offense intended, Mister Thorne," he said quickly. "I was only preparing to take photographs. I did not want unnecessary distractions in the picture with you and Mister Selvanos."
"You could have asked," Ethan replied firmly. "Respectfully. Not by grabbing her and pulling her away."
An uncomfortable silence followed, broken only by the faint click of the camera as it lowered.
Selvanos cleared his throat and stepped in smoothly, his smile never faltering as he turned his gaze on the cameraman. There was something sharp beneath the warmth now, a subtle warning conveyed by the slight tilt of his head.
"Well," Selvanos said lightly, "it seems Mister Thorne is a very devoted professor. Surely that is a quality we should all admire. Come now, let the child stay. It is good for the public to see students beside their future Minister."
He laughed, loud and theatrical, and the cameraman mirrored it awkwardly before stepping back. The camera rose again, flashes of magical light flickering through the air as images were captured.
Ethan remained tense, one hand resting protectively on Aria's shoulder.
Selvanos turned back to him, his expression settling into practiced solemnity.
"I must say, Mister Thorne," he began, raising his voice just enough for the journalists to hear clearly, "I was deeply saddened when I heard about the terrible incident. An attack on a train full of children. Unlawful, barbaric, and utterly unacceptable."
The quills scratched faster.
"If I had been informed sooner, I would have gone there myself at once," Selvanos continued. "But thankfully, we received good news instead. News that you stood against those savages. That you protected not only innocent lives, but the future of this country. The next generation of witches and wizards."
Ethan felt his discomfort grow with every word.
"Today," Selvanos said, spreading his hands grandly, "I came to see you, and the students affected by this tragedy, to offer my deepest sympathy and my full support."
The cameraman circled slightly, capturing different angles, while the journalists nodded and murmured, already imagining tomorrow's headlines.
Selvanos leaned in just slightly.
"And I wish to make you a promise, Mister Thorne," he said. "When I become Minister for Magic, I will personally see to it that you are awarded the Order of Merlin, third class. A recognition you should already have received, if this administration truly valued its heroes."
Ethan forced a smile, though it felt stiff on his face.
"That is not necessary," he said. "I did what I did because it was my duty. Any professor would have done the same."
"Oh, how humble," Selvanos replied warmly. "How very admirable. Truly, you embody the spirit of Hogwarts. If I were Minister already, I would nominate you for Teacher of the Year without hesitation."
That was enough.
Ethan inclined his head politely.
"I appreciate the sentiment," he said, his voice steady and carefully controlled. "But I must excuse myself now. I have classes to prepare for, and I need to pick up some important training materials for my teaching sessions."
Selvanos did not miss the cue. He stepped closer, clasped Ethan's hand once more, and gently pulled him into position beside himself, turning them both toward the camera.
"Of course, of course," Selvanos said. "I would not dream of keeping you. Thank you again, Mister Thorne, for your courage and your service."
The flashes intensified.
Ethan held his expression steady until it was over. The moment the attention shifted elsewhere, he released Selvanos's hand, took Aria's firmly, and walked away without looking back, his stride quick and purposeful as he headed for the castle.
Only once the heavy doors closed behind them did he exhale.
High above, on the fifth floor, two figures watched the scene unfold through tall arched windows.
Minerva McGonagall stood rigid, her lips pressed thin as she lowered her binoculars.
"Why did you allow them into Hogwarts, Albus?" she asked sharply.
Beside her, Albus Dumbledore stood serenely, his hands folded behind his back, his gaze thoughtful rather than troubled.
"It is quite clearly a campaign move," Minerva continued. "He is using Mr. Thorne to gain votes and public favor."
Dumbledore nodded mildly.
"Yes," he said. "That is true."
Minerva turned on him, incredulous.
"And you are comfortable with that?"
Dumbledore smiled faintly.
"An old friend asked me for a favor," he replied. "And there are advantages. The Board of Governors has been… displeased with Mister Thorne's appointment. Particularly with the reopening of the dueling class."
Minerva frowned.
"This spectacle changes that," Dumbledore continued. "Public opinion carries weight. After today, the Board will not oppose him."
McGonagall sighed, rubbing her temple.
"Well," she said, "I suppose the Potter girl will not be far behind."
Dumbledore chuckled softly.
"I rather doubt it," he replied. "Given her temperament, I do not think she would seek Mister Thorne's assistance in her competition."
McGonagall snorted.
"We shall see."
She turned toward the door.
"I will ensure the press does not wander the castle unsupervised," she said firmly. "Children are not campaign props."
As she left, Dumbledore returned his gaze to the courtyard below, where Hagrid was approaching the castle with two small boys trailing behind him. His smile softened, thoughtful and distant.