At the far end of the Gryffindor table, where the older and more tightly knit groups of the house gathered, four girls shared the same bench with the ease of those who had grown up together since first year.
Marlene McKinnon, chin resting on her palm, absentmindedly fiddled with a napkin as she talked about unimportant things… until her gaze drifted, just for a few seconds, to the opposite end of the table.
"Pandora Lovegood, isn't it?" she said suddenly, without looking at anyone in particular.
Alicia blinked.
Dorcas stopped stirring her pumpkin juice.
Emmeline didn't answer. She waited.
"I saw her getting off the carriage with Ryan," Marlene continued, still in the same casual tone. "He was holding a cage for her, must have been hers. And when they got down… they were chatting. Laughing, even."
She said it without emotion, almost as if talking about the weather. But none of the other three fully believed her detachment.
Alicia raised an eyebrow, just slightly.
Dorcas tilted her head, intrigued.
And Emmeline, without lifting her eyes from her plate, replied calmly, "Yes. We shared a compartment on the train. Him, Pandora, and me. And the carriage ride too, with Alicia."
Marlene shifted in her seat and took a sip of water.
"I didn't know he talked to Ravenclaws," she murmured, more to herself than to the group. Then she looked up, fixing her eyes on Emmeline with a slightly arched brow. "And least of all with Pandora. She's never exactly been… sociable, from what I've heard."
"Neither has Ryan," Alicia said dryly, as if that detail solved the equation.
Dorcas smiled. "Maybe that's why they get along."
Marlene didn't reply right away. She played with the rim of her glass, thoughtful. "And do they get along?"
"They seem to," said Emmeline, neither approving nor rejecting the idea.
Marlene let out a short exhale, heavy with something undefinable. Then she lowered her gaze for a moment.
"Well… if she keeps spending time with him, she'll soon realize nothing matters to him. No matter how much you try to get him to put in effort or change."
"This year he's different," Emmeline replied.
Marlene frowned slightly. Her eyes lingered on Emmeline for a few seconds.
"Why do you sound like you're defending him?" she asked, her voice soft but direct. "You even spent an eight-hour trip with him instead of with us."
Now all eyes were on Emmeline.
She looked at them calmly and replied, "Because this year, something is different about him. He invented an object that's being sold in three shops in Diagon Alley. You must have seen them at Flourish & Blotts. Quills in the display window that write in the air."
"Oh, yes. I saw them," Dorcas remembered immediately. "I saw Perks showing one to a fourth-year girl and she bought it. I was going to get one myself, but when I saw they cost eleven galleons… well, it seemed like a luxury."
"Eleven galleons?" Alicia repeated, surprised. "For a quill?"
"It's not just any quill," said Emmeline, already reaching into her robe. She pulled out a quill with an ordinary appearance and held it up calmly. "At first glance it looks like nothing, but watch this."
She lifted the quill into the air and traced a line as if writing on an invisible surface. Floating letters began to form on their own, a sharp, elegant dark blue, suspended as if the air had turned to glass.
The girls fell silent, following the writing as if it were light itself.
"The text lasts about four hours," Emmeline explained. "It can be erased with the tip of the quill on the words written. Like this."
Ryan, after Emmeline's explanation and demonstration, would probably be thinking about hiring her to do his marketing.
She moved her hand as if sweeping aside a curtain, and the letters disintegrated into tiny particles, vanishing completely.
"Impressive," admitted Alicia, folding her arms but unable to hide the genuine surprise on her face.
"And he created that?" Marlene asked, not bothering to hide her skepticism.
"Yes," Emmeline nodded. "I figured it out on the train and he confirmed it. And he also sold a quill to Pandora. And showed me his other invention, magical glasses that help you read twice as fast. Pandora and I are already on the waiting list."
"That sounds… very unlike Ryan," murmured Alicia.
Marlene said nothing. She just stayed silent, processing the information. Her gaze drifted for a moment to the far end of the table, where Ryan was sitting, slightly apart. He looked distracted, chin resting on his hand and eyes fixed on the enchanted ceiling, as if he were far away from everything happening there.
"It could just be another one of his phases," Alicia finally said, regaining her elegant posture. "You never know with Ollivander."
"Maybe," said Emmeline, noncommittal. "Or maybe… not."
There was a brief silence, until Alicia narrowed her eyes, connecting the dots.
"You said he sold the quill to Pandora on the train, didn't you?"
"Yes," Emmeline nodded.
"Then it wasn't through a shop," Alicia deduced. "Which means, most likely, the price was different. If he first offered the invention to school-supply shopkeepers, I doubt he gave them the same price as a direct sale. How much did he charge her?"
Emmeline shrugged lightly. "Five galleons."
"Five?" Marlene and Dorcas repeated at the same time, surprised.
"Yes. But he wasn't the one who set the price. He told Pandora to name an amount, and he accepted the first she suggested without arguing."
Alicia frowned, analyzing. "So she paid six galleons less than you."
"That's right," Emmeline confirmed, with no trace of annoyance in her voice.
"And at Flourish & Blotts they were eleven. But I saw them at a quill-specialty shop and I think they were even more expensive," Dorcas added, recalling.
"That fits," Alicia murmured, piecing it together out loud. "If he sold them to merchants for seven or eight galleons, and they adjusted the price depending on the prestige of the shop, that would explain the difference. But to Pandora… five. A special offer, it seems."
Dorcas tilted her head slightly toward Marlene and, in a carefully neutral tone, commented, "Maybe… special for other reasons."
Marlene met her gaze with an imperturbable expression.
"I doubt that's why," Emmeline cut in before either of them could respond. "I saw Ryan interested in Pandora, yes. But not in that way. It wasn't romantic. More like… curiosity."
"And do you think he'd sell it to us for five galleons too?" Alicia asked, with a mix of interest and skepticism.
"Probably, though I can't be sure. It's hard to know how he thinks," Emmeline replied.
"I'm not paying even five galleons for a quill," Marlene said flatly. "For that, I use a normal one. Costs less than one."
"Depends," Emmeline countered. "It's not just a luxury. It's useful. For studying, for making mind maps, for brainstorming ideas without filling up parchment. Of course, if you're going to hand in homework, eventually you have to transfer it to paper… but for analyzing, understanding, or practicing something, it's great. And you can save money on ink and parchment."
"Hmm," Dorcas hummed, narrowing her eyes with a mocking smile. "Are you sure Ryan didn't pay you to do his advertising?"
Emmeline looked at her without changing her tone. "I'm just giving a review of the product I bought."
Dorcas smirked and said nothing more. Alicia also kept quiet, though it was obvious she was still mentally calculating margins, prices, and strategy.
Marlene simply took another sip of her drink without adding a single comment.
But the seed of curiosity had already been planted.
At the other end of the table, Ryan stretched a little, arms crossed behind his head, while staring up at the enchanted ceiling. He had seen it in movies. Imagined it a thousand times.
And yet, it never failed to impress him.
The Great Hall doors opened with a solemn sound, and the general murmur fell into expectant silence.
Ryan turned his head, one eyebrow slightly raised.
Professor McGonagall entered with the first-years, a long line of new faces—nervous and wide-eyed with wonder. Some walked with straight backs, pretending confidence. Others turned their heads in every direction, as if they were standing in the middle of an enchanted castle (which, technically, they were).
More than one stared up at the ceiling as if questioning whether it was real.
Ryan allowed himself a small smile.
He remembered that feeling.
Though not firsthand. It was strange, like a film reel of memories, yet still his.
He had missed the ceremony. The Sorting Hat's voice in his head.
And he wondered, not for the first time: which house would it have sent him to?
He could have ended up in any of them.
He was brave. Not the reckless kind that jumped without thinking, but the steady, quiet courage forged by survival. In his first life, as an orphan, he had always defended his own without hesitation, no matter if the bullies were bigger and stronger.
He was intelligent. Not from uncontrollable genius, but from discipline. From taking books seriously, paying attention, not allowing his circumstances to define his limits.
He was ambitious. He wanted more than survival. More than an ordinary degree or an average life. He dreamed of breaking barriers, of creating, of leaving a mark, of being something no one ever expected from someone like him.
And he was loyal. Brutally so. To his own. To those who earned his trust.
And yet, he didn't complain about not having experienced the Sorting ceremony.
Even if he starts in his fifth year, he's at Hogwarts, and that's what matters.
He experienced firsthand what had once been only books and movies.
The procession of children stopped in front of a worn stool, where an old, patched, and wrinkled hat rested like a living relic.
And then the hat came to life.
'Here comes the famous Hat song,' Ryan thought with a faint smile.
...
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