Just as everybody finished their lunch and began tidying up their lunch boxes, a knock came at the compartment door. The door slid open to reveal a tall black man and a young woman with hair dyed bright pink. Both nodded politely to the students inside.

The occupants exchanged uncertain glances. None of them seemed to recognise the newcomers. Scarlet, however, frowned slightly as a vague sense of familiarity tugged at her memory. She studied the man carefully, trying to recall where she might have seen him before.

Before she could side from her seat, Harry took the lead. “Hi, I don’t think we’ve met - do you need any help?”

“Hello there. You must be Harry Potter,” the black man said with a calm, steady voice, extending his hand for a handshake.

Harry was momentarily surprised. His experience at the archery club had taught him that adults rarely offered proper handshakes to children under fifteen – they often gave little more than brief nod or casual acknowledgement. The unexpected formality left a positive impression on him.

“I’m Kingsley Shacklebolt, Senior Auror,” the man introduced himself, showing a golden badge that gleamed faintly in the light. He gestured to the woman beside him, who held out her own badge – this one bronze.

“She’s Nymphadora Tonks, Trainee Auror,” he continued.

Harry shook hands with both of them and asked after a brief pause, “I see you’re not in uniform. Are you on an undercover mission?”

Shacklebolt’s eyebrows lifted, clearly impressed. “You’re quite observant, Potter. Yes, we’re on an undercover task - though not entirely unknown to Hogwarts students.”

His words puzzled most of the compartment’s occupants, but Scarlet immediately grasped their meaning as their eyes met.

“To bodyguard me, is it? Still no sign of Peter Pettigrew?” Scarlet’s tone was direct as she rose to her feet and extended her hand toward Shacklebolt.

Shackle bolt nodded in acknowledgement and took her hand with a firm grip.

“Scarlet Hong,” she introduced herself, “a pleasure to meet a professional.”

In her mind, Aurors represented one of the few reliable divisions in the Ministry of Magic. Shacklebolt, in particular, ticked all the boxes: calm demeanour, respectful tone, a sharp eye for details - and most importantly, a Muggle-friendly appearance, free of any overly dramatic or ostentatious wizarding flair. He was a man who knew exactly what he was doing.

“A pleasure meeting you too,” Shacklebolt replied, his smile genuine. “Dumbledore has spoken highly of you.”

He gestured lightly, as if to reassure her. “Rest easy – we won’t interfere in your daily activities. Our orders are to patrol Hogwarts and keep watch for any sign of Pettigrew trying to infiltrate.”

Scarlet gave him a measured nod, her gaze briefly flicking to Tonks, whose wide eyes and slightly fidgety demeanour suggested she was holding herself back from blurting out questions. Scarlet smiled politely as she replying, “I am relieved it’s you rather than the Dementors...Must be a rough environment in the Ministry, huh?”

Shacklebolt froze for a moment, visibly taken aback. A smile soon crept across his face, a mix of admiration and mild astonishment. “Dumbledore wasn’t exaggerating. You’re quite unlike anyone else. We can discuss this further if needed, after we’ve settled in at Hogwarts. For now, I’m afraid we must be off – there are more compartments to check.”

“Of course. See you around,” Scarlet said, waving a casual goodbye as the two Aurors exited, shutting the compartment door behind them.

The others, curious about Scarlet’s unexpected connection to the Aurors opened their mouths to barrage her with questions. But Harry raised a hand, signalling them to hold their tongues.

He turned toward Scarlet with an unusually serious expression. “What did you mean by ‘rough environment in the Ministry’? And what does any of this have to do with you?”

Scarlet blinked, taken slightly off guard. But before she could respond, Harry pressed on, his voice firm. “Don’t change the subject, Scarlet.”

Harry, and so do Alexis, had both noticed something interesting about Scarlet: while she didn’t outright lie, she had a knack of evading the truth. Whether by subtly changing the subject, omitting key details, or presenting her words in a way that felt perfectly acceptable, she could sidestep even the most direct inquiries. These weren’t lies – not technically – but they still kept others in the dark.

Today, though, Harry wanted the unvarnished truth. He needed to know more about the problems Scarlet seemed destined to face.

“Politics,” Scarlet said with a sigh, her expression tinged with resignation. “Some geniuses - or perhaps idiots - in the Ministry thinks it’s a good idea to send Dementors, the ones meant to guard Azkaban, to Hogwarts, and have them search for Peter Pettigrew and keep an eye on things.”

Harry didn’t know what Dementors were, but Scarlet’s grim tone made it clear that they weren’t good. “But instead of sending Dementors, they sent just two Aurors...?” Harry prompted.

“Exactly,” Scarlet replied with a shrug. “That means Professor Dumbledore had to pull a lot of strings to make this happen. But even with his influence, Mr. Shacklebolt – the Auror assigned here – didn’t exactly come out of this unscathed.” She paused, leaning back slightly as if piecing her explanation together. “I’ve read about him in the Daily Prophet – he’s famous for capturing dark wizards. He’s one of the few reliable people in the Ministry.” Her voice sharpened slightly. “But unfortunately, he’s on the losing side of a political tug-of-war.”

“Losing side?” Harry echoed, trying to piece it all together.

“The Ministry is divided into factions, each with their own plans and ambitions,” Scarlet explained, her tone growing serious. “There’s the side I prefer – people like Mr. Shacklebolt, who want to make the Ministry better. Then there’s the side I disliked – the scumbags who dragged the Ministry down. The side I disliked currently has the upper hand. That’s why Mr. Shacklebolt was practically banished to Hogwarts. Isolated. Cut off from politics and power plays in London. He’s too good at what he does, so they shoved him out of the way.”

Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

Harry mulled over this, processing the implications slowly. Finally, he spoke, “So...someone in the Ministry, or someone with political power, wants control over Hogwarts. Professor Dumbledore stopped them—for now.” He hesitated, the puzzle pieces in his mind not quite fitting together. “But why Hogwarts?”

“Hogwarts isn’t just a school,” Scarlet answered, her tone firm. “It’s the cradle of wizardry in Britain, with influence stretches across Europe. Controlling Hogwarts means controlling how the next generation of witches and wizards view the world. They could indoctrinate students with whatever ideology they see fit. For example, the supremacy of purebloods.”

Harry’s eyes widened in shock. He couldn’t speak for a long moment, his thoughts overwhelmed by the ramifications of Scarlet’s words.

Scarlet glanced around the compartment. Most of the others sat there stunned, only vaguely grasping the seriousness of the situation – except for Hermione. Her sharp gaze suggested she was already digging deeper into questions Harry hadn’t yet thought to ask.

This is why I prefer to change the subject, Scarlet thought with a sigh, smiled. Politics are far too heavy for second-years. She clapped her hand lightly, muttering a spell under her breath. A wave of subtle enchantment rippled through the compartment, easing the tension and brightening everyone’s mood.

“All right!” she announced with a smile. “I don’t think I’ve told you guys how I spotted and caught Peter Pettigrew, have I? You’ve probably only heard secondhand stories. Want to know how I did it, why he hated me so much that many believe he would seek revenge on me – and how to spot hidden Animagi yourselves?”

“Yes, please!” Ron blurted out instantly, his face paling at the mere thought of the rat. The memory still haunted him – everyone in his house had hugged and played with the creature! Imagine hugging a bald, disgusting man like that, unknowingly cradling him in their arms. “I really need to know how to spot an Animagus!”

The prospect of learning a useful skill – and of lightening the compartment’s somber mood – seemed to lift everyone’s spirits. Ron, in particular, looked eager for anything to chase away the lingering tension of the day as it became unbearable. Today must really be a dreadful day, Ron thought wearily, filled with one nerve-wracking moment after another, and we haven’t even reached the school yet!

Maya and Amelia, sensing Ron’s eagerness to steer the conversation to lighter topics, eagerly went along with his hint. Finally, they all heard the full, detailed account of how Scarlet had exposed Peter Pettigrew.

Fabricated, Harry mused, recognising Scarlet’s deft touch. She wasn’t outright lying, but the version of events she shared was definitely adjusted to suit the mood. Harry doubted anyone else caught on, but after giving her every word a second thought, he noticed the careful adjustments she’d made.

Still, he couldn’t deny that her approach was the right one for the moment. Her earlier revelations had rattled his friends; he could see it in the tension written across their faces. And tension, Harry reflected, was never good for hitting a precise target. Scarlet's version, adjusted as it was, seemed to have the calming effect they all needed now.

Her considerations were far more complex than Harry could truly grasp. Based on Hermione’s furrowed brow, he suspected she felt the same way. I shouldn’t have asked her in front of everyone, Harry thought with a pang of regret. Looks like I still have a long way to go, but I’ve got time. Thirty years is plenty to improve, right? Still, it would be better to be ready well before the year 2000. He thought grimly, the weight of responsibilities heavy on his mind.

Meanwhile, Ron’s enthusiasm had brought warmth and excitement back to the compartment. Though everyone joined in the light-hearted chatter Harry could tell that each of them planned to take time later to digest everything Scarlet had revealed. Scarlet, for her part, watched the group with knowing eyes. She had seen students struggle with these types of revelations before, back in her Caster Academy days. What impressed her most was how resilient Harry and others seemed to be – their reaction today had been far better than she’d anticipated. For her, that was already a positive sign.

Take it slow, Scarlet mused, a small smile tugging at her lips. Everything will work out just fine.

The train finally screeched to a halt at Hogsmeade Station, prompting the usual frenzy of students scrambling to disembark. Scarlet remained unbothered, deliberately taking her time. It seemed her compartment-mates shared her mindset, as none of them hurried either. By the time they stepped out, most of the chaos had subsided, and they were able to make their way to the tiny platform without any trouble.

“Firs’ years this way!” The booming call came from the same voice that had greeted them last year, and everyone smiled, a wave of nostalgia washing over them as they remembered their first arrival at Hogwarts. The enormous silhouette of the gamekeeper stood at the far end of the platform, beckoning the new students forward for their traditional boat ride across the lake. Scarlet spotted Jessica among the cluster of first-years; the girl waved happily at her before scampering after Hagrid. Scarlet’s eyes caught the improved lighting along the path, and a satisfied smile crossed her face. Glad they listened to my complaint last year, she thought with a smile.

The rest of the students filtered out the station, following a well-worn mud track to the line of stagecoaches waiting beyond. A long procession of carriages stretched before them – at least a hundred in total – all seemingly enchanted to move without horses or so most students believed. A faint magical glow lingered around the traces, adding to their mysterious charm. Groups of students filled the coaches one after the other, and as they departed, the track grew increasingly churned and muddy.

By the time Scarlet and her companions reached the waiting carriages, only about fifty remained. Scarlet wrinkled her nose slightly at the mess left in the wake of the departing wheels. Despite the lingering chaos, the steady clatter of wheels and the gentle hum of magic made the journey forward feel like a calming prelude to the school year ahead.

The stagecoaches were pulled by creatures Scarlet had never seen before. They were completely fleshless, their black skin stretched taut over their skeletons, making every bone disturbingly visible. Their heads were dragon-like, with eerie, pupil-less white eyes that stared unblinking. Leathery black wings sprouted from their withers, vast and bat-like, as though crafted for some gothic nightmare. Standing silently in the fading daylight, the creatures exuded and air of haunting menace.

Noticed her gaze, one of them gave a soft, almost amused huff. It lowered its head to sniff at her hair, making her giggle.

“Scarlet?” Maya asked, looking at her curiously. “What’s so funny?”

Scarlet patted the creature’s head gently, still smiling, but her laughter faded as she turned toward friends. There was something strange about the way they looked back at her. Rather than reacting with astonishment of curiosity about the creatures pulling the stagecoaches, they appeared as though there was nothing unusual at all. Scarlet’s expression shifted into quiet realisation.

“Ah, I see.” She returned her gaze to the creature before her. “Thestrals.”

“Thestrals?” her friends chorused with puzzlement, except Hermione, whose face went pale with recognition.

“You can see them?” Hermione whispered, her voice trembling slightly.

Ron frowned in confusion. “What’s a Thestral?”

“A winged horse, though admittedly a very creepy one,” Scarlet replied with a light-hearted tone. “You’ve lived very fortunate lives if you can’t see them.”

Harry, still on the edge from earlier conversations, narrowed his eyes at her. “And you? You can see them, meaning...?”

Scarlet’s expression didn’t falter. “Meaning, I’ve witnessed things you haven’t,” she answered casually. Then after a short pause, she added softly. “When the time comes, you’ll be able to see them too. Though, if I’m being honest, I’d rather that time come much later in your lives.”

The heavy moment lingered briefly before she broke it with a bright smile. “Now,” she said cheerfully, “shall we get into the coach?”

Her friends hesitated only for a moment before nodding and climbing aboard the nearest stagecoach, their thoughts swirling with silent questions.