CHAPTER 2

Andromeda stepped into the narrow corridor, still grappling with the revelation that her best friend, Elysia, had a cousin—one she had never mentioned before. It unsettled her. She prided herself on knowing everything about Elysia. Or so she thought.

As she moved forward, her thoughts tangled in curiosity, Elysia stopped abruptly outside the compartment where the commotion had originated.

"Look at this," Elysia said, gesturing toward the open doorway.

Andromeda leaned in to peer inside, and her breath caught for a moment. The walls and ceiling were drenched in an explosion of color, every surface covered in a vibrant, chaotic rainbow. Students inside were frantically casting spells to clean it, but their magic seemed utterly ineffective.

"What a carnage," Elysia muttered, her voice tinged with admiration. "Your cousin doesn't do things by halves, does he?"

"That's for sure," Andromeda replied, her tone dry but tinged with reluctant awe. "I don't understand how they pull this off. It's not just creative—it's advanced. For all their pranks, you'd think they'd be top of the class. But no, they're mediocre at best when it comes to actual schoolwork." She gestured to the scene. "This paint—it's resisting Aguamenti and Scourgify. Even the Head Boy can't remove it."

Elysia smirked, folding her arms as she leaned against the wall. "Clearly, McGonagall must kick herself watching all that talent go to waste."

Andromeda shook her head, suppressing a smile. "You're just happy to watch the chaos unfold from a safe distance."

"True," Elysia admitted with a grin. "But come on, you have to admit it's impressive. Your cousin and his friends… They've got guts. And imagination."

Andromeda couldn't deny it. Despite her frustrations with Sirius and his crowd, their boldness—and the intricate magic behind their mischief—was almost admirable. "It's less about talent and more about their love for trouble," she said, her voice even. "And you'd admire a fire as long as it burned someone else's house down."

Elysia's smile widened at the comment. "That's not fair. I've been a victim too, remember?"

Andromeda snorted. "Once. And you made sure Sirius paid for it. Or did you forget suspending him upside down for hours and forcing him to chant, 'I don't prank Elysia D'Aubigny'?"

"That was different," Elysia replied, flipping her hair nonchalantly. "He thought he was clever. I thought he needed a lesson."

Andromeda chuckled softly, shaking her head. She let her gaze drift back to the disaster in the compartment. She couldn't help but admire Sirius and his group, even if she'd never say it aloud. There was something inherently daring about them, especially Sirius and Potter.

She thought back to the other two boys who always lingered in the shadows of their escapades. One, a mousy, nervous sort who never seemed quite comfortable, and the other, a quiet boy with a reserved demeanor that almost masked the sharpness in his eyes. They were an odd quartet, but undeniably effective when it came to their antics.

Elysia leaned closer, whispering conspiratorially. "Do you think they've figured out what this paint is yet?"

"No chance," Andromeda replied with certainty. "If they're lucky, it'll fade on its own in a day or two. If not… Well, let's just say my cousin might have to get creative with his excuses."

Elysia laughed, the sound light and carefree. "Maybe it's for the best. Hogwarts needs a little color now and then, don't you think?"

Andromeda sighed, a faint smile tugging at the corner of her lips. "Sometimes, I think you're as bad as Sirius."

"I don't know how they manage to disappear so quickly after their pranks," Andromeda mused aloud as she and Elysia walked toward the front of the train. Her tone was thoughtful, but the corners of her lips twitched, betraying her reluctant admiration.

Elysia shrugged lightly. "A spell, maybe?" she offered, though her tone lacked conviction. "No, probably too advanced for them. Then again, for a prank, I wouldn't put it past them to push boundaries."

Andromeda shook her head. "Not a spell. Too many variables. Any seventh-year—or even some of the professors—could reveal them with the right charm. It would have to be… an artifact." She paused, her mind already turning over the possibilities. "Something old, maybe from a family vault. Or even the Potters' collection. They're reckless enough to use something like that."

Elysia hummed thoughtfully, her pragmatic side kicking in. "That would make sense. But if it were from the Black vaults, I doubt Sirius would have access. His parents don't exactly trust him with their heirlooms. His mother probably thinks he'd use them to redecorate in Gryffindor colors."

A dry laugh escaped Andromeda. "True. Uncle Orion is more interested in his Wizengamot politics than handing Sirius anything of value, and Aunt Walburga would sooner hex him than gift him an artifact. Regulus might have mentioned something if Sirius had smuggled anything out. No, it doesn't add up."

The more Andromeda thought about it, the more unlikely it seemed. Artifacts like that didn't just fall into the hands of troublemakers like Sirius and James Potter. And even on the rare chance that such an object existed, surely someone else would have noticed its use by now.