The Gryffindor common room was a lively chaos of students packing, laughing, and exchanging last-minute sweets. Sky, however, sat in the corner armchair by the fireplace, a half-filled trunk by his feet, a quill dangling lazily between his fingers. His wand spun slowly in the air above his palm, twirling as if entertaining itself.
Across from him, Hermione lay sprawled out on the rug, legs kicking gently in the air behind her, already several chapters deep into the Occlumency book Sky had gifted her. A pile of parchment lay beside her, filled with notes in neat, meticulous handwriting.
"You've been quiet," she said softly without looking up. Her quill moved with elegant precision, underlining something with a faint swoop.
Sky smirked. "I could say the same."
She glanced up at him. "Do you regret anything?"
The fire crackled. Sky looked into the flames for a long moment, then let out a small laugh.
"Just my handwriting and letting Ron near anything remotely flammable."
Hermione rolled her eyes but smiled.
She turned her gaze back to the book, then paused. "I'm glad you're not like everyone else."
Sky looked at her, his head tilted slightly, the spinning wand catching the light.
"So am I," he replied. "Can you imagine how boring life would be if I took the predictable route?"
Hermione chuckled, and the room fell into a comfortable silence once more.
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Steam poured out from the scarlet engine of the Hogwarts Express as students swarmed the platform, dragging trunks, hugging friends, and yelling last-minute goodbyes. Owls hooted indignantly in their cages, and a first-year tripped over his own suitcase while chasing a magical frog.
Sky maneuvered through the crowd with his usual lazy grace, his warehouse trunk gliding behind him as if it weighed nothing. Hermione walked beside him, clutching a stack of newly transcribed study guides.
Up ahead, Harry was quickly being surrounded. Older students, first years, even a few parents craned to get a look at him.
"Is that him?" "Did he really fight off a troll?" "I heard he outsmarted a whole room of traps!"
Draco Malfoy emerged from the crowd like a bad idea, smirking as he called out, "Potter! Don't forget to write about your dramatic near-death experience!"
Sky stepped between them casually, turning to Draco with a smile that didn't reach his eyes.
"Draco, your father called. He said next time you try to be relevant, try using an original insult."
Draco scowled. "Don't think this year changes anything, Kingston."
Before Sky could respond, Blaise Zabini appeared at Draco's side, arms crossed and expression unreadable. He said nothing, merely offering Draco a glare that communicated volumes. Draco visibly shrank under the weight of it, his scowl faltering, his posture stiffening.
Sky arched an eyebrow. "Draco, you forget. Blaise here is your keeper now, isn't he?" he said coolly.
Draco didn't answer. He just gave a small, reluctant nod, refusing to meet either of their eyes.
Blaise gave a slow, measured nod, his eyes never leaving Draco. The implication was clear: he hadn't just heard what Draco said—he was noting it down.
Draco, clearly wilted under the attention, gave a mumbled excuse and quickly retreated back into the crowd, casting a final nervous glance at Blaise before disappearing.
Once he was gone, Blaise's expression lightened. He turned to Sky and offered a relaxed nod. "Kingston."
Sky smirked, stepping forward to clasp Blaise's offered hand. "Zabini. Hope your summer's off to a decent start."
"Better," Blaise replied. "I imagine summer will be less eventful than the school year—hopefully. Try not to dismantle the Muggle economy before September."
"No promises," Sky said with a wink.
They both burst into unexpected laughter, drawing a few confused glances from nearby students. It wasn't loud or mocking—just the shared kind that came from two people who knew too much and said too little. A quiet understanding passed between them—not quite alliance, but something close, cemented with that short moment of levity.
With that, he turned back to his group, ignoring the weird looks behind him.
The train's whistle blew, and they boarded quickly, finding a compartment just large enough for the four of them.
Harry slumped into a seat, clearly exhausted by the attention. Ron tore into a chocolate frog. Hermione sat beside Sky, her legs curled beneath her.
As the train pulled out of the station, Sky reached beneath his seat, patting the enchanted trunk.
He pulled out two small scrolls of parchment, sliding them across the table to Harry and Ron.
"Sign this contract. You won't regret it."
Both boys blinked.
"What is it?" Harry asked.
Sky smiled, the kind that suggested too much and explained nothing. "Future planning."
Ron leaned over to Hermione. "Is this one of his weird things again?"
She nodded solemnly. "Probably. But it usually works out."
Sky leaned back against the window, hands behind his head, and smiled.
Outside, the countryside sped by.
Far away from the train, in the headmaster's office, Albus Dumbledore stood by the window, his fingers gently steepled beneath his chin. His gaze lingered on the horizon where the smoke from the Hogwarts Express slowly disappeared into the sky. Fawkes gave a soft trill behind him, but the headmaster remained silent.
"So many threads, all wound tighter than I ever anticipated," he murmured. The old man looked not tired, but deeply contemplative. Sky Kingston had entered this year like a rogue breeze, and what was left in his wake resembled less a disruption and more a redirection. Secrets had shifted. Fates had been jostled. Even the Mirror of Erised had been relocated more times this term than in the last fifty years.
He turned toward his desk and plucked a lemon drop from the ever-present bowl. "This boy," he said to no one, "is either the very best thing to happen to this generation... or the most unpredictable kind of storm." A twinkle appeared in his eye, but behind it, something far more calculating shimmered.
"And somehow," he said, popping the sweet into his mouth, "I suspect he knows that better than I do. Is this what they mean when they say not to tempt fate?"