Hogwarts starts at the age of 13 in my fic so be warned.
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Their last stop was Magical Menagerie, where they peered through cages of puffskeins, sleek black rats, and a very ill-tempered orange Kneazle that tried to claw Rigel through the bars.
Dora spent fifteen minutes deciding between a tawny owl and a spotted one with intelligent yellow eyes. Rigel didn't get a pet—not yet.
He lingered by the thestral books in the corner, running a hand absently over his wand pocket, deep in thought.
They left the shop with Dora carrying a gently hooting owl she'd named Ember.
By the time they reached the edge of the alley, the sky was starting to shade toward evening. Diagon Alley was still alive with magic and motion, but their time here—for now—was done.
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The morning of September 1st arrived too quickly.
The ancestral home of the Blacks was unusually still at dawn. Rigel stood before an old mirror, dressed in his freshly pressed Hogwarts robes—dark, sharply cut, and embroidered subtly with the Black family crest near the collarbone.
His wand rested snugly in a hidden sleeve holster, the cool weight grounding him.
Down the corridor, Dora was already waiting, her trunk half-levitating behind her as she fiddled with Ember's cage. The owl blinked sleepily, unbothered by her pacing.
"You're going to wear a hole in the floor," Rigel remarked as he approached.
"I'm pacing with purpose," Dora said. "We're going to Hogwarts, Rigel. You could try to look a little excited."
Rigel only gave her a mild look. "I'm awake, aren't I?"
She snorted and looped her arm through his. "Come on, Mr. Enthusiasm. The train won't wait."
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King's Cross Station was already crowded when they arrived. Trolleys rattled across cracked tiles, and Muggles bustled past in every direction.
Dora gripped her trolley with one hand, the other curled loosely around Rigel's wrist.
"There it is," she said, eyes narrowing toward the barrier between platforms nine and ten.
Rigel gave a silent nod.
They pushed off at a brisk pace, passing through the solid brick wall and emerging into a burst of steam and color.
Platform Nine and Three-Quarters stretched out before them like something from a dream. The scarlet steam engine loomed ahead, whistling sharply.
Students in a riot of black robes and wizard hats scurried around, waving to families, chasing after pets, hauling trunks, and shouting hellos.
Rigel's sharp blue eyes flicked across the platform, analyzing everything with quiet intent. Dora's face, meanwhile, was lit up with wonder.
"It's even better than I imagined," she said, awestruck.
They handed over their trunks, watched them loaded into the luggage car, and boarded the train together.
Corridors were already growing crowded. Older students barged past, laughing, and some compartments were filled with families saying long goodbyes or first-years nervously introducing themselves.
After several tries, they found one near the middle of the train—empty, the sun filtering gently through the window, casting golden light across the seats.
Rigel slid the door shut behind them, casting a simple privacy charm he had learned a long time ago from one of the older grimoires in the Black library. A faint shimmer passed over the frame.
Dora collapsed into the seat opposite him and let out a long breath. "Merlin's pants, it's real now. We're going. We're actually going."
Rigel nodded, settling into his seat and resting his wand-hand lightly on the edge of the windowsill. The countryside began to roll past, slow at first, then faster—green fields blurring under a wide, endless sky.
Neither spoke for a few minutes. The hush between them was comfortable, the silence of two people who understood one another without needing to fill every gap with words.
Finally, Dora broke it.
"What house do you think you'll be in?"
Rigel's gaze stayed on the window. "Don't know."
"You do know," she teased. "You've read everything. You already know which traits go where. So?"
He glanced at her, the corners of his mouth tilting faintly. "Does it matter what I think? It's not like I get to choose."
Dora frowned. "Well, I think I do get to choose. And I want one that lets me stay myself and make mother and grandpa proud."
Rigel looked at her more seriously now."You just need to trust yourself,I am sure everything will be fine".
She blinked, surprised. Then smiled slowly. "Wow. You're getting all deep and emotional."
"I'll stop."
"Too late. It's on record now."
They both fell quiet again as the golden light of the sun lit the floor of the compartment. Dora leaned her forehead against the window, watching the hills roll by. Rigel sat straight, fingers resting lightly over his wand.
The train raced north.
Each turn of the wheel brought them closer to Hogwarts.
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Author's notes.
Please give me power stones.