Teaching Draco Malfoy a lesson had been nothing more than a small inconvenience for Vaughn.
But to Hermione Granger, it left a strange, fluttering sensation in her chest—something entirely unfamiliar.
She'd rehearsed countless ways to thank him properly… yet the moment he approached, everything tangled together and what burst out was a flustered scolding:
"Y-you really shouldn't use spells on people! What if they report you to the school—"
She froze, instantly regretting the words.
But Vaughn didn't seem the least bit bothered. He merely smiled.
"Relax. They won't be back for hours. I'm heading to my compartment. See you, Miss Granger."
Merlin's beard—Hermione Granger, what is wrong with your brain?!
Hermione nearly smacked herself. As Vaughn turned to leave, she stumbled to salvage her dignity.
"Th-thank you… for earlier. A-and… y-you can call me Hermione!"
Vaughn nodded lightly.
"All right, Hermione. And you can call me Vaughn."
Then—with a small flick of his wand, just like the very first time she'd seen him—he sent a charm drifting through the air.
But this time, her hair didn't float.
It softened—falling in smooth curls along her cheeks.
He smiled.
"And don't listen to Malfoy. You're actually quite pretty."
"…"
Hermione felt her entire skull turn molten.
Her cheeks burned blisteringly hot.
Vaughn, satisfied after teasing the little witch, felt his mood lift immediately. Whistling a cheerful tune, he walked back toward his compartment.
Before he even slid the door open, he heard Ron boasting loudly:
"…I heard Vaughn dealt with Malfoy! Bet he used some dark curse! Did you SEE those teeth? Like a wild boar's tusks! Maybe they'll never shrink back!"
Harry whispered, amazed,
"What curse was that? It sounded incredible."
"Who knows? Vaughn always knows weird things. And he's got a terrible personality—if he used an Unforgivable Curse on Malfoy, I wouldn't even be surprised!"
Vaughn pushed the door open and aimed his wand at Ron.
"Ah—!"
Ron shrieked, ducking behind Harry so fast that Harry nearly toppled.
Harry, bewildered, wondered why he was the human shield.
Vaughn didn't bother following up.
He sat down, pulled out a Potions book, and began reading.
Harry covered his mouth, trying not to laugh.
Ron glared at him with humiliation—but dared not complain. Soon, the two drifted back into excited conversation, whispering about sweets and spells.
Time passed uneventfully until the twins arrived.
They greeted Harry warmly and, in classic Fred-and-George fashion, announced that they had already borrowed a camera from an older student and were planning to photograph Draco's newly enlarged teeth.
"In honour of our beloved little brother's heroic deeds," Fred declared.
"We'll deliver a copy to every house," George added.
By evening, the Hogwarts Express began to slow.
Darkness had settled outside when the train finally shuddered to a stop.
A voice echoed through the carriages:
"Please leave your luggage on the train. First-years, please put on your robes. They will be taken to your dormitories later…"
Ten minutes earlier, Vaughn had already helped Harry and Ron change.
Both boys now stood behind him nervously—Harry smoothing his robes anxiously, Ron white as a sheet beneath his freckles.
Stories about the Sorting Ceremony had conjured terrifying images in their minds.
When the doors opened, neither boy moved on his own—they simply followed Vaughn like terrified ducklings.
Cold autumn air rushed in as they were pushed onto a tiny, dark platform.
A huge figure swung a lantern overhead.
"Firs'-years! Firs'-years over here! Any firs'-years left? Oh—hiya, Harry, yeh all righ'?"
Hagrid's booming friendliness did little for Harry's nerves.
Ron clung to Vaughn's cloak desperately—and Harry grabbed on as well.
Vaughn looked back at the two quivering boys.
"Not so tight."
They both shook their heads violently and held on harder.
Once Hagrid gathered every first-year, he led them down a steep, narrow path. The night was pitch black; no one spoke. Only Hagrid's lantern bobbed ahead like a wandering star.
Until Vaughn murmured:
"Lumos."
Soft white light blossomed at the tip of his wand.
The oppressive darkness eased—and, like frightened chicks spotting a mother hen, dozens of nervous first-years immediately clustered around him.
They followed the path until it turned sharply—
And the world opened.
A vast, midnight-black lake stretched before them, still as glass.
Across the water, perched high upon a cliff, rose an enormous castle—its stone walls outlined by moonlight, its windows glowing gold.
Vaughn exhaled softly.
Even he had to admit—it was breathtaking.
Hagrid led them to a line of small boats.
"Four ter a boat—no more'n four!"
Vaughn stepped aboard with Harry and Ron. Immediately, several anxious students tried to squeeze in too—
But Vaughn called out:
"Hermione? Hermione! Over here!"
Thank Merlin for the darkness—Hermione Granger's face had turned scarlet.
She rushed over, pretending absolutely nothing was wrong.
Ron glared at her as though she'd stolen his spot.
Harry, meanwhile, beamed—thrilled that everyone he knew was there.
Once everyone had boarded, the boats drifted forward on their own, gliding across the silent lake. As they neared the cliffs, the castle rose above them—its towers stretching into the star-speckled sky.
No one spoke.
Not even Ron.
Hagrid guided them ashore, up a stone path, and finally to a massive oak door.
He knocked.
Moments later, it swung open to reveal a familiar stern silhouette.
"First-years, Professor McGonagall."
"Thank you, Hagrid. I'll take them from here."
The moment Professor McGonagall's sharp gaze swept across them, the entire group straightened at once.
Except Vaughn, who continued to look around with lively curiosity.
They crossed an archway into a stone antechamber lit by torches. Statues and alcoves climbed toward a high ceiling, ancient and solemn.
Beyond that chamber lay a grand hall—vast, gleaming, alive with warm torchlight. Marble staircases spiralled upward, vanishing into the upper floors.
Vaughn paused at the threshold.
Eyes bright.
Heart steady.
This was Hogwarts.
(End of Chapter )