AN: I changed Tristan's name to Alaric. Sorry for the confusion.
Alaric sighed as he pushed through the crowd, his mother close behind. "Remember not to talk back to your professors. They all want the best for you. And don't forget—"
She had been giving him nonstop advice since breakfast. Classes, schedules, proper wand care, common room etiquette… all of it delivered rapid-fire in that anxious, motherly way. He understood, of course. She was sending her only son off to Hogwarts just as her own mother once had, and her nerves were beginning to fray.
Spotting the barrier between platforms nine and ten, Alaric seized the opening like a lifeline. He slung his trunk over his shoulder and jogged forward, leaving her mid-sentence. On the way, he passed a family of unmistakably red-haired children—four of them, two older twin boys, a boy his own age, and a younger girl.
'Red hair… that has to be the Weasley family. Potential friends for later.'
Before he could dwell on it, he hit the barrier and slipped through. For a moment everything went dark—then the world burst into light and noise. Platform Nine and Three-Quarters was already a sea of students, trunks, owls, and fond farewells. The air hummed with excitement.
A soft pop sounded behind him as the twins emerged, sprinting across the platform with identical grins. Alaric smirked as he watched them bound onto the train just as his mother stepped through the wall.
She exhaled in relief. "Oh, there you are."
He gave her a look, half amused, half exasperated. She laughed quietly. "I know, I know."
She pulled him into a tight hug, then placed her hands on his shoulders. For a moment, neither of them spoke.
"No matter what happens from now on, remember who you are," she said softly. "You are Alaric Regulus Black, son of Regulus Articulus Black, and heir to the Houses of Black, Gaunt, and Pendragon."
Alaric nodded, even though the Pendragon part still puzzled him. He let her continue.
"People will flock to you for all sorts of reasons. Your intelligence. Your bloodline. Your name. You must ignore them. Those people don't want you—they want what you represent. The ones who truly care for you won't care about any of that. In fact, they might even dislike you at first."
She laughed, earning a confused look from him. "I despised your father when I first met him. I was Gaunt, but barred from being the heir simply for being a girl, so naturally I disliked the ones with power. And your father… oh, he was entitled in our early years. But we mellowed out. Became friends. Then something more. And when we learned you were on the way, the boy who once shoved me in the corridors cried with joy that I was the mother of his child."
She paused, breath catching. "I'm rambling. What I want you to learn is this: there are people who will use you, and there are people who will love you without condition. My hope is that you'll find the latter."
She studied his pale-golden eyes, finding warmth there—love, affection, and a hint of mischievous amusement.
"Be brave," she said, touching his chest.
"Be kind," she added, pressing her hand over his heart.
"And never forget who you are." She cupped his face and pulled him into one last hug, kissing his forehead. "Now go, before I change my mind."
Alaric grinned, gave her a theatrical bow, and darted onto the train. The corridor inside was buzzing with first-years rushing to claim a cabin. He moved toward the back where it was usually quieter.
After checking several full compartments, he finally found one with only two occupants—girls his age, one blonde with sharp green eyes, the other brunette with soft blue ones.
"Is this cabin taken?" he asked.
The blonde, dressed neatly with a tasteful pin on her robes, looked him over before shaking her head. "No, no one else is seated here yet."
Alaric sighed in relief. "Thank Merlin. I've been searching for nearly ten minutes."
He slipped inside, stowed his trunk beneath the seat, then introduced himself. "I'm Alaric Regulus Black, heir to the Ancient and Most Noble House of Black. It's a pleasure to meet you."
The blonde smiled. "Daphne Greengrass, heir to the Ancient and Most Noble House of Greengrass. And this is my best friend, Tracey Davis."
Tracey waved warmly. "Nice to meet you, Alaric. Is it alright if I call you that?"
He nodded. "I prefer it."
Daphne leaned forward, eyes bright with curiosity. "So, how does it feel to step into the spotlight after being hidden away for so long?"
Alaric smiled. "I'm not used to being overly formal yet, but it's been fine so far. And I've got a few things planned for this year."
"Such as?" she asked.
"That would ruin the surprise," he said with a light shrug.
She accepted the deflection with a small nod, understanding more than she said.
"Have you looked over our spell lists?" she asked next.
"I've practiced Lumos and Wingardium Leviosa on my own," he said. "I'm hoping to find a good spot on the grounds to train."
Tracey leaned in. "Have you thought about what house you want? Daphne wants Slytherin—tradition and all that—but I'm considering Hufflepuff."
Alaric considered. "My father was Slytherin, though I'm not choosing it because of that. I like their values—ambition, cunning, resourcefulness. But I also like Gryffindor. They're brave, stubborn, and determined."
Tracey scrunched her nose. "So you want to hang around with the troublemakers?"
Daphne didn't comment, but there was a thoughtful glint in her eyes.
Alaric laughed. "Not because they're troublemakers. I just want to be as brave as they are. As brave as my uncle."
That caught Daphne's attention. "Your uncle is Sirius Black? The one in Azkaban?"
Alaric nodded. "He's only there because he never had a proper trial. They didn't even use Veritaserum on him. Without one, I have to assume innocence."
Daphne studied him. His tone wasn't dramatic; it was simple, steady. That made it convincing.
A small smirk curled at her lips. "So freeing your uncle… that's one of your plans?"
He smirked back. "Among other things. I imagine the next few months will be… interesting."
Tracey looked between them, one brow raised at the sudden spark of understanding.
Daphne straightened, smoothing her robes. "Then I'll look forward to it."
The compartment door slid open. A bushy-haired girl in round glasses peeked inside, breath a little short. "I'm terribly sorry, but has anyone seen a toad?"
The three exchanged looks. Alaric voiced the mutual thought. "Has anyone tried the Summoning Charm?"
The girl froze, slapped her forehead, muttered something about forgetting, and hurried off.
The compartment fell silent for a beat.
Tracey snorted. "That was… something."
Daphne burst into laughter, her composed exterior cracking. "Her face when you mentioned the spell—"
Alaric chuckled. "Well, at least she'll find the toad now."
The three settled into easy conversation that lasted the entire ride, full of small jokes, shared curiosities, and the bright hope of new beginnings.
Ahead, Hogwarts waited—ready to open the next chapter of their lives.