Thousands of candles hovered overhead, casting a warm golden glow across the four long house tables. The ceiling reflected the night sky — a deep velvet blanket scattered with stars.

Students milled about, reuniting after the summer, their voices a low hum of excitement.

And then the doors swung open.

You walked in, and for a moment, the noise seemed to dip.

Your robes fit better. Your hair fell differently. You held your head higher.

Across the hall, at the Slytherin table, a blonde head lifted.