The Hogwarts Express chugged steadily through the Scottish countryside, its scarlet engine belching steam into the crisp September air. Eliot Clarke sat by the window, watching the landscape blur past—rolling green hills, distant villages, and the occasional flash of a river cutting through the valleys.
Beside him, Helena Fawley was flipping through a thick notebook filled with runic diagrams and calculations. Across from them, Stephen Cornfoot and Edgar Bones were engaged in a heated debate about the best defensive spells for first-years.
Eliot exhaled, pressing his fingers against the glass. A year ago, he had been a reincarnated software engineer, baffled by magic. Now, he was returning to Hogwarts as the co-founder of a budding magical innovations company, with a Ministry evaluation looming and a global vision taking shape.
New term, new challenges, he thought.
The Workshop Awaits
Their first stop upon arriving at Hogwarts wasn't the Great Hall—it was the Room of Requirement.
The door materialized just as it had before, solid and unassuming, but when Eliot pushed it open, the space inside had transformed. Gone was the modest workshop of last year. In its place stood a full-fledged laboratory: workbenches lined with precision tools, shelves stocked with rare magical components, a testing chamber with reinforced wards, and even a small library of advanced runic texts.
Helena let out a low whistle. "The room's upgraded."
Eliot stepped inside, running a hand along the smooth surface of a new runic etching station. "It's adapting to our needs. Bigger projects require better tools."
Stephen and Edgar lingered in the doorway, eyes wide. "You two have been holding out on us," Stephen said.
"Not anymore," Helena replied, grinning. "We're expanding. Welcome to the official headquarters of Clarke & Fawley Magical Innovations."
The Young Innovators Club
Word of their workshop spread quickly. By the end of the first week, a crowd of Ravenclaws—and a few ambitious students from other houses—had gathered outside the Room of Requirement, clamoring for a look inside.
Eliot and Helena exchanged glances.
"We can't keep this to ourselves," Helena murmured.
Eliot nodded. "Then we won't."
That evening, they pinned a notice in the common room:
YOUNG INNOVATORS CLUB
For students interested in magical research, invention, and problem-solving.
First meeting: Friday, 7 PM, Room of Requirement.
Thirty students showed up.
Eliot stood at the front of the room, wand raised to scribble notes in midair. "This isn't a study group," he began. "It's a think tank. We're here to push boundaries, not just memorize spells."
Helena took over, explaining their first project: refining the torchlight design for mass production. The students split into teams—some worked on rune optimization, others on material durability, a few even experimented with color variations.
By the end of the night, they had three working prototypes and a dozen new ideas.
The Ministry's Interest
A letter arrived at breakfast, sealed with the official insignia of the Department of Magical Inventions.
Eliot broke the wax and scanned the contents. His stomach tightened.
"They've moved up the evaluation," he said quietly. "Next month."
Helena's eyes widened. "That's not enough time!"
"We don't have a choice." He tapped the parchment. "They want full documentation on all our devices—torchlights, heat controllers, shield badges—plus a live demonstration."
Stephen leaned in. "What happens if they approve them?"
"Licensing. Mass production. Maybe even Ministry contracts."
"And if they don't?"
Eliot's jaw clenched. "Then we're back to square one."
International Connections
The real surprise came via an enchanted mirror propped on Eliot's bedside table. Late one night, the glass shimmered, and the face of a young witch with dark curls and a Beauxbatons uniform appeared.
"Eliot Clarke?" she asked in a French accent.
Eliot nearly dropped his quill. "Who—?"
"Claire Dubois. I lead the Magical Engineering Society at Beauxbatons. We've heard about your torchlights. We want to collaborate."
Eliot's mind raced. "How did you—?"
"Word travels fast in magical academia. Especially when a second-year outsmarts the Ministry."
By the end of the call, they'd agreed to a knowledge exchange—Beauxbatons would test their devices in exchange for sharing their own research on enchantment efficiency.
Helena, who had been listening in, looked stunned. "We're going international."
Eliot grinned. "Just the beginning."
The Road Ahead
As September drew to a close, Eliot stood on the Astronomy Tower, looking out over the darkened grounds. The weight of what they were building settled on his shoulders—not just inventions, but a movement.
Helena joined him, handing over a steaming mug of cocoa. "Thinking too hard again?"
"Always." He took a sip. "We're playing with fire, Helena. The Ministry, international partnerships, a club—this isn't just tinkering in a workshop anymore."
She nudged him. "Scared?"
"Terrified." He paused. "And excited."
Helena smiled. "Good. That means we're doing it right."
Below them, the castle hummed with magic, its ancient stones whispering secrets only Eliot and Helena were beginning to understand.
The year had only just begun.