The first week at Hogwarts moved in a blur of classes, hallways, and names.
Victor quickly found his rhythm: sharp answers in Transfiguration, steady charmwork, a natural knack for magical theory. He wasn't loud about it, but when classmates stumbled, he leaned over to murmur advice, nudging them toward the right wand movement or reminding them of a missed step. His quiet confidence earned nods of gratitude, and more than one professor's approving glance.
"Mr. Sinclair," Professor Weasley said at the end of their second Transfiguration lesson, "if you keep this up, you may put some of my older students to shame."
In Charms, Professor Ronen clapped him on the back. "Excellent work! But don't let me catch you hiding at the back. Knowledge like that should be shared, eh?"
Victor smiled faintly. He didn't mind helping. But the true challenge came, as always, in the dungeon.
In Potions, the Cure for Boils assignment should have been simple. But Victor was distracted.
Madison stood beside him, her brow furrowed in concentration, golden hair catching the dungeon light. Her thoughts brushed against his, unguarded as always.
Il est encore plus mignon quand il se donne au mieux.
(He's even cuter when he gives his all.)
Victor froze, pulse skipping. His grip on the ladle slackened. The flame beneath his cauldron flared too hot, the mixture hissing ominously.
"Victor!" Madison snapped, grabbing his ladle and cooling the brew with a quick flick of her wand. The bubbling steadied just short of eruption.
Professor Sharp raised an eyebrow from across the room but said nothing.
Victor exhaled slowly, realizing what nearly happened. Madison's hand lingered on the ladle for a beat too long, her lips twitching as she fought back a smile.
"Well," she murmured when Sharp's attention turned away, "good thing you had me here. Otherwise we'd both be wearing boils for the rest of the week."
Victor gave her a flat look. She only grinned wider.
From that moment, Madison teased him relentlessly.
At lunch: "Careful, Victor, don't get lost staring or you'll drop your fork."
During Charms: "Best focus, Sinclair, before you levitate me instead of the feather."
Even as they walked back to Ravenclaw Tower: "Don't worry, I'll protect you from the next cauldron that dares to explode."
Victor bore it with patience at first, lips pressed thin, waiting for her to tire herself out. But by evening, with Madison laughing beside him in the common room, he finally turned to her, his eyes glinting with mischief.
"Je me donne à fond donc je suis toujours mignon selon toi ?"
(So if I always give my all, I'm always cute in your eyes?)
Madison's face turned scarlet. For a heartbeat she stood frozen, then spun on her heel. "Espèce d'idiot !" she cried, voice high and flustered. But there was no anger in it — only embarrassment, soft at the edges.
She fled up the stairs to the girls' dormitory, her laughter trailing after her.
Victor leaned back in his chair, satisfied. At last, the teasing had been answered in kind.
And judging by the warmth in Madison's thoughts as she vanished upstairs, this was only the beginning.
The week closed with their first Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson, held in a tall, drafty chamber with stone archways and shelves lined with jars of pickled things that glimmered unpleasantly in the candlelight.
Professor Hecat was a stern witch, her hair tied tightly at the nape of her neck, her eyes sharp as knives.
"Defense," she began, "is not bravado. It is survival. And survival begins with knowledge. Today, you will learn about creatures you may one day face — and how to defend yourselves should they turn on you."
She waved her wand, and a cage at the front of the class shimmered into view. Inside skittered a small, grotesque creature with too many legs and mandibles that clicked sharply against the bars.
"A Red Cap," Hecat explained. "A nasty little goblin-like predator. They lurk in dungeons and battlefields, feeding on blood. Fortunately, they are weak against light and fire. A simple Lumos Solem charm will scatter them. If that fails, even a well-aimed stinging hex will drive them off."
She demonstrated the charm, her wand blazing with sudden sunlight. The Red Cap hissed and scrambled back into the shadows.
The students took turns practicing. Most of the first-years struggled — some managed only faint glimmers, others nothing at all. Victor's wand flared bright on his first attempt, the light sharp and steady.
"Excellent control, Mr. Sinclair. Five points to Ravenclaw."
Madison's wand flared next, her light softer but no less steady.
"Well done, Miss Dupres. Five points."
Albus, grinning fiercely, produced a brilliant flare that filled the room.
"Overconfident," Hecat muttered, "but effective. Five points to Gryffindor."
Maddie leaned close as Victor lowered his wand. "So bright. I'm impressed."
"By my spellcasting?" Victor asked.
Her lips curved. "By how you didn't catch fire showing off like Albus."
Victor chuckled. "Always so supportive, Maddie."
"Always," she teased back.
The weekend brought freedom at last. No timetables, no professors — just hours to roam the castle.
"Where to first?" Albus asked as they gathered in the corridor outside Ravenclaw Tower.
Victor tilted his head thoughtfully, already knowing exactly where he meant to go. "I've stumbled on something before. Come with me."
He led them through twisting staircases and shifting corridors until they reached a blank wall on the seventh floor.
"You're certain this isn't just a broom closet?" Albus asked.
"Watch," Victor said. He paced three times past the wall, focusing on what he wanted: a place for us, private, where we can talk and learn without interruption.
The stones rippled, and a door appeared.
Madison's eyes widened. "You're joking."
Victor only smirked. "By chance, I found it."
Inside, the Room of Requirement had shaped itself into a cozy chamber — warm light, cushioned chairs, shelves of books.
"This is… incredible," Albus breathed, stepping inside.
Madison twirled slowly, her blond hair catching the glow. "A secret room just for us. Victor, are you always this resourceful?"
He shrugged, feigning modesty. "Only when I'm trying to impress you."
Her cheeks flushed as she tried to roll her eyes. "Espèce de charmeur," she muttered under her breath.
Victor caught it and leaned closer, whispering just loud enough for her to hear: "I'll take that as encouragement, Maddie."
She shoved his shoulder, laughing despite herself, while Albus groaned. "If you two start fluttering about, I'll hex you both."
The three of them laughed, the sound echoing off the enchanted walls. It was the first of many weekends they would spend together.
To Be Continued…