ou reckon if we patrol in half an hour, we can get Crabbe and Goyle for something?" Ron said. It had been an hour before they had finally turned up in the carriage, and the food trolley had already passed. Ron was left scoffing down leftovers that Neville pressed into his hands, while Hermione furiously scrubbed away at her uniform sweater, which had been contaminated by Crookshank's fur.

"You shouldn't abuse your position on day one," she replied, frowning but not paying full attention. Ginny picked the crumbs off her brother's shirt as he gave a snort.

"Like Malfoy isn't already? I'm just going to make sure I get his mates before he gets mine."

"For heaven's sake, Ron—" Hermione threw up her hands— "I'm sure that'll be a good enough reason for Professor McGonagall!"

"Wait—" Harry turned to them, aghast. Until this point, he had been reading a copy of Luna's magazine, The Quibbler—though it was probably more accurate to say that he had been skimming for the most blasphemous headlines, after realizing that "SIRIUS- Black As He's Painted? Notorious Mass Murderer OR Innocent Singing Sensation?" was one of the more serious articles in it's pages.

"Malfoy's a prefect?" he groaned.

"Yes! And that complete cow Pansy Parkinson," said Hermione viciously. "How she got to be a prefect when she's thicker than a concussed troll…"

"What about Hufflepuffs?" piped up Cedric.

"Ernie Macmillan and Hannah Abbott," said Ron thickly.

"And Anthony Goldstein and Padma Patil for Ravenclaw," said Hermione.

"You went to the Yule Ball with Padma Patil," said a vague voice. Everyone turned to look at Luna, who was gazing unblinkingly at Ron over the top of her copy of The Quibbler. He swallowed his mouthful of Frog.

"Yeah, I know I did," he said, looking mildly surprised.

"She didn't enjoy it very much," Luna informed him. "She doesn't think you treated her very well, because you wouldn't dance with her. I don't think I'd have minded," she added thoughtfully, "I don't like dancing very much."

She retreated behind The Quibbler again. Ron stared at the cover with his mouth hanging open for a few seconds, then looked around at Ginny for some kind of explanation, but Ginny had stuffed her knuckles in her mouth to stop herself giggling.

Hurriedly, Hermione changed the topic, "By the way Cedric, so many people were asking for you!"

"Huh?" said Cedric, lifting his head from his book.

"You should've heard them all clamouring," Ron paused before he spoke in a high-pitched whine, "Oh, where's Cedric? Did he quit? Can we quit too?"

"It wasn't just the girls," said Hermione raising an eyebrow at Ron.

"Oh yeah, sorry," said Ron, he then spoke low and thick, similar to Crabbe's, "Aw! My mate Cedric should be here too! Where's he at? He's the Headboy right!"

Despite herself Hermione grinned at Cedric, "Well, whoever the Headboy is now, he was quite flustered to hear everyone going on like that!"

"Oh dear!" said Cedric, but Harry could tell he was secretly, quite pleased.

"Still as popular as ever?" he wondered aloud.

"Just you wait," Cedric smiled, shaking his head. At that moment, their compartment door opened for a third time. Harry had expected this, but that did not make the sight of Draco Malfoy smirking at him from between his cronies Crabbe and Goyle any more enjoyable.

"What?" he said aggressively, before Malfoy could open his mouth.

"Manners, Potter, or I'll have to give you a detention," drawled Malfoy, whose sleek blond hair and pointed chin were just like his father's. "You see, I, unlike you, have been made a prefect, which means that I, unlike you, have the power to hand out punishments."

"Yeah," said Harry, "but you, unlike me, are a git, so get out and leave us alone."

Hermione, Ginny, and Neville laughed. Ron began to murmur quietly, "We're literally right here!" but it seemed loud enough for Malfoy to catch, as his lip curled and his eyes immediately flickered between him and Harry.

"Tell me, how does it feel being second-best to Weasley, Potter?" he asked.

"Shut up, Malfoy!" said Ron immediately, but he seemed nervous, flinching at the sound of his own voice.

"I seem to have touched a nerve," Malfoy said, smirking. Gleefully lifting up his hands, he shrugged. "Well, just watch yourself, Potter, because I'll be dogging your footsteps in case you step out of line."

"Seriously Malfoy, could you shut that mouth of yours, I-" Ron glanced over at Harry and stuttered, stumbling over his words as Harry's eyes fell wildly unfocused; looking as if his face had been splashed by water.

No…

As Ron regained composure, Hermione stood up with a snarl, but not before also quickly turning to look at Harry, who knew at once that she—like him—had registered what Malfoy had said and been just as unnerved by it.

'Dogging'.

He'd be 'dogging' his footsteps.

Did he know? It felt like his stomach hardened into lead.

Harry could barely get a thought through the feeling of impending doom that squirmed under his gut. His mind whirled, reworking over and over again in a span of three seconds; blacking out logic, faith, trust, and situations of niceness in favour of awful ones; unspeakable ones. Originally, he had thought Sirius coming with him to the station was a bit of a laugh, some fun to ease his nerves… but suddenly it seemed reckless, if not downright dangerous.

Mrs Weasley had been right… Sirius should not have come.

So many people had seen him around the streets of London, so many people have seen him jump and walk on his hind legs, and so many menacing people would know about his Animagus form; Peter Pettigrew made sure of that. Perhaps it was a bad idea to bring him out, did Malfoy see? And if he saw, wouldn't his father? Wouldn't his father's friends?

In a chance where Ron wasn't so quick with his tongue or Hermione so momentarily angry, the both of them distracting Malfoy from looking to his right; it wouldn't be hard for him to notice that Harry wrestled with certain fear in his eyes, that there something between shock and worry lining his brow—he was stunted silent. So honestly did he feel in that moment, sweating over notions, like whether Sirius was safe. Or if people could figure out where he was hiding from the few times he let himself leave?

Was Lupin safe? The house? Ron's parents?

Harry regretted not asking more about Grimmauld was secured, or how Dumbledore's protective spells work. He began to regret being so pleased that Sirius had properly seen him off on his first day. Trying to remember and associate cold gazes to the vague memories of blurry faces in his head. And the same old thread of thought winding around his head, tighter, cutting off circulation—If Malfoy knew, would his father?

If Malfoy knew, wouldn't his father?

In the midst of this, Harry heard Hermione step forward,

"Get out!" she said, forcefully. Sniggering, Malfoy leisurely glossed over each aggravated face in front of him but before he reached Harry's, Cedric leaned forward and called out, "Careful! That badge won't protect you from everyone, you know!"

It was a voice that Harry had only ever heard in the Quidditch pitch, and while quieter in this instance—Malfoy froze and turned to him at once, his sneer abruptly snapped into a stony face.

"I don't think I need to hear that kind of hypocrisy..." he said, "Where were you today, Mr Perfect? Did they kick you off the team?"

"All the more for some unsolicited advice," he said, smiling as serenely as Luna would, "'Cause it seems like you need it—"

"Are you threatening me?" Malfoy demanded, and on both his sides, Crabbe and Goyle stood straighter; almost growing in width. Cedric leant back, broadening his shoulders in a similar fashion.

"'Course not—as you said, I don't have any power to."

Malfoy's eyes narrowed and looked around the carriage, "I think you need to watch for the company you keep, Diggory. For your own safety,"

Cedric smiled at him, expression unmoved from before.

"Excellent point!" he said, "It's so good that perhaps, your father should take your own advice, too!"

One would have thought that Draco Malfoy had been slapped by Cedric Diggory by the way his nostrils flared in that moment, like wide-mouthed caverns while his cheeks stained two sanguine blots on his pale face. With eyes that slanted dangerously, Malfoy stared and stared—one dagger, two dagger, three!—at Cedric, scrambling for something to say.

And unable to settle, he instead turned swiftly around.

"Crabbe, shut the door!" he looked feverish.

"Eh?"

"NOW!"

As Crabbe trudged forward, Malfoy hissed from behind his shoulder, "Watch yourself, you filthy liar!"

"And you have a nice day, as well!" Cedric replied. The door slammed shut and Malfoy stalked away, the heavy footsteps of Crabbe and Goyle growing faint as they followed, lumbering after his wake.

The carriage was once again left in dumbfounded silence.

"That.. was…" Ron turned to Cedric breathlessly, "Brilliant! "

It looked like he would start clapping at any moment. Similarly, Hermione released a breath and plopped down into her chair.

"He's as awful as ever," she muttered roughly.

"Are you kidding me? He's grown worse!" said Ginny, unclenching her fists. "I can't believe Dumbledore made that toad a prefect!"

Quietly, Neville pulled his legs into his seat and scrunched his nose.

"I can," he mumbled, an eyebrow raised. Luna giggled from behind her up-side down magazine while Harry felt the pounding sound of his heart slowly fade away. Hermione stared at him, uneasy.

"It's alright Harry," she said.

"Yeah we're okay," chimed Ron. They both looked at him reassuringly, with eyes full of meaning but; Harry could only nod dully before he looked away into the window, knowing that he couldn't say too much in Neville and Luna presence. Slowly, as the carriage's silence filled with the build up of chatter—another wall that would comfortably blanket around him—Harry felt the tips of Cedric's fingers press against his forearm; careful. Gentle. He had crossed his arms in order to touch him discreetly, and he faced forward, as if pretending that he wasn't doing anything at all.

Stilled, Harry sighed.

Something alleviated in his stomach. A quiet fold.

Sirius was fine. He could temporarily believe that until, at the very least, he could send Hedwig to check.

As the others re-delved into the 'who's and 'what's of the prefect carriage, Luna perked up and watched Harry and Cedric slip from the conversation, oblivious to the group's machinations. As the train droned on, turning a long bend, Cedric smiled when he felt a weight—ever so slightly—lean against him. He said nothing and kept his fingers light on Harry's skin.

The carriage rocked as they closed the distance to Hogwarts, and eventually, Harry's mind slowed to it's normal pace.

Stepping out of the train, Harry reeled from the insane conjectures that he read in the last hour, regretting that he'd given Luna's magazine and its Sirius article a shot.

"Of all the things they could've said to prove his innocence-" muttered Harry stumbling onto the platform- "Saying he had the 'gospel soul of angel's got to be some sort of slander!"

From beside him, Cedric chuckled.

"Well from what I read over your shoulder, it seemed a rather refreshing change of pace," he said.

"'Refreshing's not the most interesting word for it," Ron snickered. Hermione looked around her to make sure Luna wasn't nearby.

"I told you The Quibbler was rubbish!" she whispered, leaning in, "Who in their right mind would run that sort of waffle?"

"Luna's father runs the magazine, I'm pretty sure," Ginny said from behind.

"Yes, yes he does," said a light voice. Hermione nearly tripped after realizing that Luna was right beside her.

"It's alright if you don't believe in it," Luna softly said, but it contrasted to the way she stared, her eyes pouring heavy. With meek nod, Hermione seemed to notice a lost first-year among the throngs of students making their way out of the train, and quickly grabbed Ron to come with as she walked away.

"She means well," Cedric said, as Harry gave his copy of The Quibbler back to Luna.

"Yes, I think so too," she replied. Harry exchanged a glance with Ginny, who still looked bizarrely amused while Luna gestured to the Pigwidgeon's cage, the little creature zooming around it's tiny bars in his usual overexcitedness.

"I'll carry that owl, if you like."

"Oh—er—thanks," said Harry, handing her the cage and hoisting Hedwig's more securely into his arms.

As they walked closer to the gate, Neville carefully made sure that Trevor was comfortable in his trouser pocket while Harry slotted his fingers through the bars of Hedwig's cage and scritched her beak. Luna and Ginny had their hands full making sure that Pigwidgeon stayed put, while beside them, Cedric carried Crookshanks in one arm and held the carrier Hermione brought for him, in the other.

It was a rather odd group to witness, and besides Ginny and Luna, it was not lost on any of them when people ducked their heads to whisper to their friends and moved at rather consistent distances away.

They shuffled out to the side to avoid attention, and felt the first sting of the night air on their faces as the wind picked up. Harry could smell the pine trees that lined the path down to the lake. He walked closer to the edge of the forest and looked around, listening for the familiar call of "Firs' years over here… firs' years…", but it did not come.

Instead a quite different voice, a brisk female one, was calling, "First years line up over here, please! All first years to me!"

A lantern came swinging toward Harry and by its light he saw the prominent chin and severe haircut of Professor Grubbly-Plank, the witch who had taken over Hagrid's Care of Magical Creatures lessons for a while the previous year.

"Where's Hagrid?" he said out loud.

"I don't know," said Ginny, "But we'd better move on and save a coach. We'll be separated from those two otherwise," she pointed to a group of first years Hermione and Ron were leading to the edge of the lake.

Jostled through, Harry squinted through the darkness for a glimpse of Hagrid; he had to be here, Harry had been relying on it—seeing Hagrid again had been one of the things to which he had been looking forward to most. But there was no sign of him at all.

He can't have left, Harry told himself as he shuffled slowly through a narrow doorway onto the road outside with the rest of the crowd. He's just got a cold or something…

But before he knew it, they had been shunted into a forest clearing, the dirt road to Hogwarts laid in front of them. Students poured through, getting in the hundreds of the horseless stagecoaches that took everyone above the first-years to the castle. Ginny and Neville had seemingly chosen a coach but Harry stood in place and glanced quickly around, Hagrid still nowhere in sight. As he made his way to Ginny and Neville, Cedric caught Harry's arm.

"What are those things, d'you reckon?" he asked, suddenly. He nodded toward the carriages, Neville and Ginny stood by.

"What things?" Harry asked.

"Those horses, what d'you reckon they are?"

"What?"

"What?" Harry looked at Cedric strangely.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't kid, Harry," Cedric said, but his smile dropped as soon as Harry kept his gaze, confused.

"At the—there, between the shafts! Harnessed to the coach! It's right there in front of—" he stopped when Harry stood, tiptoe, to see. Following the line of Cedric's pointed finger, he scanned the forest around from its ground to the surrounding curtain of fir trees, the clouds muddling along the dark sky—but there was nothing of interest to note.

"Can't… can't you see them?" Cedric said.

"Again, see what?"

"The animals pulling the carriages, can't you see them?"

"Animals? No I-" Harry glanced again, and did a double take. "Wait, hold on."

It was fuzzy. Almost as if something had been drawn there and then crudely erased, or if Harry looked at the world without his glasses, even though he was acutely aware that he had not taken them off. All he could make out was an outline, something that could only be described as the ghost of a creature that he'll never be sure of or, a spot that only lurks within the peripheraries of your vision. As he turned his head, left to right; Harry almost swore that he caught a shadow cast on the earth. He pulled Cedric's arm and they moved closer to the coach. There was more nothing there but Harry felt awash with the sense of something, blocking the front of the coach.

"Can you see? They're right there," pointed Cedric, again.

"I don't know..." Harry murmured, "What are you seeing?"

"H-Horses. They look starved! And they have... wings—"

The moon shone bright from above, unrestricted for the moment as it fell through the gaps of trees, lighting up curled roots and clumps of leaves that had gathered on the forest floor.

Harry's heart stopped briefly.

From where they stood, he heard the sound of leaves being freshly crushed, as though something stepped slowly toward them. The wind rose as he looked forward, the sound louder and louder until abruptly, it halted.

"It walked closer," said Cedric, quietly. "I think it's looking at us."

I know. Harry wanted to say. But he stood silent and motionless, not daring to look away, as a hoof entered the moonlight followed by a dark leg, along with another hoof, another leg, a dark body, and then a head.

They watched as a creature walked into the light, starved like Cedric had said and looking every bit like a grey-skinned horse, but only from afar; it had a thin hide that looked like it was glued to its own skeleton. Protruding from it's spine, a set of unfurled wings, translucent in the light as slowly the creature made its way forward, clip clop, muffled into the dirt floor. It's leather strappings strained as it moved toward then, and from its rear, the attached coach inched forward though Ginny and Neville didn't seem to hear the wheels creak.

"Are you seeing this right now?" said Cedric, breathing heavily.

"Y-yes it-!"

Both of them froze as it towered above, eyes pupiless and white. Nothing happened for a few seconds, until out of the corner of Harry's eye, he watched Cedric gradually push his hand forward; eventually holding it out at full length, toward the beast.

Harry forces himself to stay still as Cedric's hand trembled in the air. Slowly—just as slowly as it had walked—the creature seemed to register Cedric's presence and bowed down it's head low; it's snout, which looked more like a beak, coming to rest against Cedric's palm.

"What are you doing?" whispered Harry, urgently.

"Er- ah... petting?"

"What the—"

"Everything alright?" said a voice. Cedric and Harry whipped around to see Ron standing behind, looking about them with uncertainty.

Harry glanced back at the horse. It didn't seem to heed the appearance of a new person, eyes closed, snout pressed against Cedric's palm who just looked like he was stretching.

"Erm... shall we get in the coach?" Ron asked slowly, realizing that neither of them would answer back. Awkwardly, he gestured to Hermione who waited for them by the coach door. She held a lantern that glowed brighter as moonlight dimmed, the sky now overcome by clouds again.

"What?" Harry said, distractedly.

"Shall we get in the coach?" Ron repeated. Harry blinked.

"Aren't you seeing it?" he asked, mystified at how calm Ron was. His friend was the most queasy when it came to odd beasts, usually he would be yelling by now.

"Seeing what?" Ron said, tilting his head.

"The thing pulling the coaches? Look—!" Harry turned around, but the corpse-like horse no longer stood in its place behind him.

"What's pulling the coaches?" Ron looked from behind Harry's shoulder.

"There's… nothing," said Harry, breathless. He looked back at Ron with furrowed brows, "There's nothing!"

Ron stared at him, alarmed, "A-are you alright, mate?"

"...Yeah," said Harry. He turned around once more, squinting to catch any movement, before he turned back. "Yeah, I'm fine just… go ahead without us—"

Reluctantly, Ron made his way toward the coach while Harry stared at Cedric, who still had his arm stretched out.

"Is it still—"

"Still here," Cedric nodded, looking to his right. Harry watched as his hand moved, trailing up and down mid-air, as if actually stroking something.

"I can't see it anymore," Harry said, taking his glasses on and off. They both looked at each-other, bewildered.

What in Merlin's name is happening?

"It's all right," said a dreamy voice from beside Harry, "You're not going mad or anything. I can see them too."

Harry watched as Luna walked toward Cedric with a skip, her blonde hair flowing behind her as she held her hands behind her back.

"You can?" Cedric asked, startled. But as she made her way beside him, bottle-cap necklace jingling, he could see the bat-like wings reflected in her large, silvery eyes.

"Oh yes," said Luna, "I've been able to see them ever since my first day here. They've always pulled the carriages, you know."

She reached out to touch the creature, but it snorted from under Cedric's palm and moved away, walking back to the carriage at a quick pace. Catching a dark shape blur in and out of the thin streams of moonlight escaping the trees, Harry perked towards it's direction.

"What are they?" he asked, squinting hard.

"Thestrals," Luna said. As if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"I-I see…" Cedric stared forward. He watched as the one he pet, stepped in place. "So I'm not crazy—"

"You're just as sane as I am," Luna confirmed. Though Harry didn't know if he would be comforted by that.

"But you-" She suddenly turned to him, head tilted and slightly curious- "You, I'm not so sure."

Harry stopped trying to look for the horse and snapped toward Luna, gaping with wide eyes, "What?"

She shrugged. Smiling faintly, Luna skipped away and climbed into the musty interior of the carriage, leaving Cedric and Harry alone. They looked to each other, unable to translate what they had just seen or heard.

"I er-.. Told you it'd be fun…" said Cedric, calling back to when they first stepped in Luna's carriage. Though in the air, it sounded more like a question. Harry felt the itch of his uniform on his skin, his expression blank despite the confines of his head, a strewn mess. Not altogether reassured, he and Cedric became quiet as they mulled over what they had just witnessed before finally, they followed Luna into the coach.