Eight hours later.
It was close to seven o'clock in the evening when the train finally began to approach the railway station in Hogsmeade, a small village located near Hogwarts.
"Thank you for the very useful information," Alan said with a smile, throwing a small notebook into his wallet and looking, oddly enough, at Regulus, who was smiling back at him and no longer looked as frightened as he had at the beginning of the trip.
Still, Alan found it easy to find common ground with him, almost without even using Legilimency. Although overcoming the psychological barrier posed by the Black family's obsession with blood purity would take much longer than he expected.
"It's me who should thank you and..." the young man answered him sheepishly, without his former arrogance and disdain, "...apologize for that day..."
"Don't worry about it, I'm not a touchy person, but I still ask you not to say anything to anyone about our conversation, and also not to pass on the spell."
"I understand, and of course I'll keep quiet!" Regulus said, then added, "After this conversation, I learned a lot about magic, but I also have a lot of questions."
Glancing out the window at the barely visible outline of Hogwarts, Alan turned his gaze back to Black.
"I'll answer one of your questions."
"Regarding the magic core you spoke of earlier, if you were able to detect it, then why couldn't others do the same?"
"It's very simple. Up to a certain level, it's formless, and without sufficient power, you'll never be able to see or feel it. I don't think even Dumbledore could do that, and as for Voldemort, it is worth considering, since he is much closer to concepts like 'death' and 'soul.' He might be able to notice something, but not see it," Alan replied, stroking his chin thoughtfully.
"Then how were you able to detect it, if even such powerful mages couldn't see it?" Regulus looked at Alan doubtfully.
"I told you: one question."
"How about if I tell you Sirius's dark secret?"
"You know how to bargain, young man, but let's do it another time..."
After his words, a loud whistle sounded and the train shook slightly.
"We've arrived, gather all your things and get ready to go," the prefect's loud voice echoed throughout the entire carriage...
After sitting for several hours, Alan wanted to stretch his legs a little, but as soon as he saw the carriages, he only sighed sadly.
"Apparently it wasn't meant to be..."
"S-sit down...?" came a hesitant female voice, making him sigh even more tragically.
"You're mistaken, miss," Alan replied without even turning around, calmly heading towards the carriage. "Just leave me alone, you damn red-haired leech."
"Where did you disappear to?" Regulus approached him at that moment. "We still haven't discussed when we can talk!"
"Let's do it tomorrow, maybe you'll remember something else about Bella."
"Okay, but still... you have strange taste..."
"You don't understand anything about women," Alan looked at the young man with a fatherly smile, who frowned in displeasure in response.
"You and I are almost the same age, you were just lucky to be born a year or so earlier, and yet you're already acting like a wise old man."
"You still won't understand..."
Looking at Alan's back, Lily felt an unpleasant bitterness in her mouth, because she understood that he deliberately pretended not to know her, as if he wanted to distance himself as far as possible.
"Maybe... he is right about me being selfish?" the girl muttered with a forced smile, looking away and clutching the sleeves of her robe. She turned and headed toward the Gryffindor carriages.
Alan himself had already forgotten about Lily, his attention drawn to the creature pulling the carriage. It was a vaguely horse-like creature, more like an emissary of hell: a skeleton covered in smooth, silky, raven-colored skin with a pair of wings on its back. Its muzzle resembled a dragon's, and its pupil-less white eyes evoked a feeling of discomfort, and in some, fear.
"Thestrals... are some of the most contradictory creatures in the world," he said, approaching it under Regulus's puzzled gaze. He touched the creature's head and began to stroke it. "Despite their terrifying appearance, they were kind and gentle creatures inside..." The "horse" snorted contentedly, rubbing its head against Alan's face. "Calm down, little one," he said, smiling as he stroked it. He touched the pocket of his shirt where his wallet was, and pulled out a dark herb resembling a lettuce leaf. The Thestral neighed joyfully at the sight of it and devoured it in one go, smacking his lips contentedly. "I'm surprised these creatures haven't been taken apart yet in this world, like those poor dragons..." But remembering the two hearts in the wallet, he felt slightly embarrassed.
Finally leaving the "horses" alone, he turned to the bewildered Slytherin students, who were looking at him strangely, with the exception of Regulus and a few others. After all, Thestrals could only be seen by those who had known death; to everyone else, they were invisible. Therefore, many students, even after graduating from Hogwarts, believed they were simply enchanted carriages that moved on their own.
"Maybe I should get myself a Thestral sometime?" Alan muttered thoughtfully, and Black himself started looking at him strangely...
After some time, having finally reached the castle, having slightly hurt their asses because of the smartasses who had not installed the shock-absorbing charms on the carriage, now accompanied by McGonagall, who met all four groups of students from the second to the seventh years, they reached the great hall.
Just like on the day of the end of the school year, the hall was decorated for the holiday, with only a slight difference: there was no food and the service itself was changed to gilded.
"Take your seats, the feast begins in half an hour," McGonagall exclaimed, looking at the students with a stern gaze and leaving the hall again, leaving everyone in the care of Professor Slughorn to greet the new students entering this year.
"I ask everyone not to crowd and to go calmly to their tables..."
And so, exactly thirty minutes later, second by second, the doors to the hall slowly swung open, the enormous number of candles floating in the air began to shine even brighter, and the ghosts, who had previously looked rather passive, suddenly became active, and, accompanied by the Head of Gryffindor, about sixty excited children entered the hall, constantly looking around and watching in amazement as the ghosts pirouetted and joyfully greeting them.
Having led them to the teacher's desk, she stopped and turned to face the children.
"Before we begin, Headmaster Dumbledore has something he wants to tell you."
"Thank you, Professor McGonagall," he stood up from his seat and looked at them with a warm smile, "First of all, I am pleased to welcome you to the walls of our educational institution, the School of Witchcraft and Wizardry – Hogwarts."
"Remember that for the next seven years, this place will be your second home, and the professors and staff will be your second family. They will be ready to listen to you, offer advice, or help you with anything, day or night. This also applies to the other students," the old man looked sternly at the students, who were slightly embarrassed by such speech, and most of the teachers had followed suit. "I also strictly forbid you from visiting the Forbidden Forest. That's all for me, thank you. Please, Professor, continue."
"Thank you," the woman said, a little surprised by the Headmaster's speech, but she didn't dwell on it too much. She pulled out a rather long list and continued, "I'm going to call out names now, and the person whose name I call will have to come forward. I'll place the sorting hat on their head," she said, lifting the rather battered, pointed hat. "Phyllis Harmony."
A girl with long blonde hair emerged from the crowd of children.
"Sit down, Miss Harmony."
"Y-yes!" Under the professor's stern gaze, the girl became embarrassed and finally sat down on a chair, and a hat was placed on her head.
And then, after a few seconds, hollow eyes and a mouth appeared on the headdress, and a rough voice sounded.
"I see... I see... well... Hufflepuff!"
At that very moment, the table of the aforementioned house filled with joyful applause. And when she removed the hat, McGonagall sent the girl to the Hufflepuff table, where she was greeted with open arms.
"Next, William McKinney!" a skinny-looking boy walked hesitantly toward the hat...
And so it went on for about half an hour, until finally the last child was sorted into Gryffindor, and Minerva, having put away her hat and chair, sat down to the right of Dumbledore and tapped her glass with a spoon in order to attract the attention of the noisy students.
"One moment of your attention!"
And again the Headmaster stood up.
"Well then... let the feast begin!" And with these words and a clap of hands, the food finally appeared, and the tables were literally bursting with the amount of it.
And, as if they hadn't eaten for decades, the students pounced on the food like wolves, and only Slytherin ate more or less calmly in this situation, of course, not counting a few first-years, but, compared to the other houses, they were like real aristocrats among the peasants...
Dumbledore himself watched this with a good-natured smile and, as every year, remembered his happy days studying at Hogwarts... But the moment his gaze fell on a certain Slytherin student, the smile on the old man's face wavered, and he choked on his pumpkin juice...
"Headmaster…!"
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