CHAPTER 4

Thaddeus stepped off the train, his boots striking the stone platform as the cool evening air filled his lungs. The station at Hogsmeade was alive with activity, students scattering in every direction beneath the warm glow of lanterns lining the platform. Hagrid's booming voice cut through the noise, calling first-years to gather. His massive figure loomed over the crowd, making him impossible to miss.

Thaddeus gripped his trunk tightly, scanning the scene. He was used to order and precision, shaped by years spent with his father, and the disorganized swirl of students felt almost alien. He sighed quietly, stepping aside to let a group of chattering second-years rush past him.

As the general noise shifted, a ripple of attention passed through the crowd. Conversations quieted, the air thickening with murmurs. Curiosity piqued, Thaddeus moved closer, navigating through clusters of students with ease. He positioned himself just behind a group of sixth-years, giving him a clear view.

And then he saw them.

Four boys trailing behind the flow of the crowd, clearly the source of the growing whispers. They weren't trying to blend in—far from it. Sirius Black led the group with his characteristic swagger, wild hair and cocky grin making him impossible to ignore. James Potter walked beside him, equally self-assured, his messy hair and glasses giving him the air of someone always up to mischief. Behind them, Peter Pettigrew and Remus Lupin followed. Peter's nervous glances contrasted sharply with Remus's calm, almost resigned expression.

Their lack of subtlety only added to their appeal. It was obvious from the amused glances and stifled laughter of the students around them that they had already stirred up trouble.

Thaddeus chuckled under his breath, shaking his head. The train ride had been eventful, to say the least.

Before he could turn away, a familiar voice appeared beside him.

"You won't believe what happened," Elysia said, her silver-green scarf draped carelessly over her shoulders, excitement barely contained in her eyes.

Thaddeus raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Oh? You'll have to do better than that. It's hard to believe things I didn't see myself."

"Ugh, you're impossible. At least try to guess!" Elysia huffed, rolling her eyes dramatically.

Thaddeus let his smile widen, casting a quick glance toward the scene she'd clearly been part of. "Let me guess… something happened in the next compartment over, probably involving paint?"

Elysia's jaw dropped, and she sighed theatrically. "You're no fun. You already knew!"

Thaddeus's laughter slipped out, light and genuine. "Sometimes, you're too predictable."

"That's for sure," Andromeda chimed in as she joined them. Her usual composure softened by the playful glint in her eye, she gave them a knowing look.

Elysia pouted, crossing her arms in mock offense, but it only made Thaddeus laugh harder. Andromeda's lips twitched upward into one of her rare smiles as the three of them stood together, laughing amidst the chaotic crowd.

For a moment, Thaddeus felt an unexpected warmth, the camaraderie settling over him in a way he hadn't realized he missed. They were together, laughing in the midst of the tumult, and for the first time in a while, the weight of his past seemed just a little bit lighter.

Thaddeus followed Elysia into the castle, the towering stone structure looming ahead. Its oak doors, worn with centuries of history, stood like a silent sentinel to the past. He paused, eyes tracing the intricate carvings before him, a sudden wave of nostalgia crashing over him.

For a fleeting moment, a tear slipped down his cheek.

The sight reminded him of his family's ancestral home—the d'Aubigny château, a monolithic presence since the 9th century. To outsiders, it was cold and imposing, but to him, it had been a place of warmth and familiarity. The memories of those walls, of the lives lived there, now felt as distant as a dream. Hogwarts, though, had a similar weight, a formidable structure that promised to be more than just a school.

He fought to push the emotions down, but they lingered—until the familiar shield of Occlumency took hold. It rose like an invisible barrier, blocking the rush of memories and bringing him back to the present.

A gentle tug on his sleeve snapped him from his reverie. He turned to find Elysia, her steps purposeful as she led the way toward the Slytherin table. She didn't need to say a word; he understood the unspoken message. He gave a brief nod but remained near the entrance, choosing to observe for a moment longer.

Leaning casually against the stone wall, Thaddeus watched as the Sorting Hat ceremony unfolded. The first-years were lined up, each student awaiting their turn. His patience wore thin. He hated standing in plain sight. It wasn't his style. He preferred the shadows—the quiet corners where he could strategize, observe, and remain unseen. He was not his father, whose commanding presence demanded attention; Thaddeus, like his grandmother, preferred to work behind the scenes, subtle and calculating.

His gaze drifted around the Great Hall, pausing on the four house tables. The air was thick with tension, rivalries simmering beneath the excitement. He spotted the Gryffindor table—the infamous quartet. Sirius Black, James Potter, Remus Lupin, and Peter Pettigrew sat with their heads bent low, flanked by the Head Boy and a prefect.

Thaddeus smirked, his mind calculating. "A little backlash," he thought. "But they've been shielded from the worst of it." Their audacity amused him, even if it was reckless.

Abruptly, a prickle ran down his spine. He turned sharply, eyes narrowing. Across the hall, a woman was watching him intently. The silvery-green scarf draped around her neck was unmistakable.

Bellatrix Black.

The name flickered through his mind like a whisper. Unbidden, yet undeniable. She had been listed among the dossiers handed to him by the new matriarch, Elysia's mother. A person of interest, certainly. And the tension in her gaze was a challenge. He wasn't sure what it meant yet, but he knew it was there.

Straightening his posture, a flicker of amusement crossed his face before Occlumency buried it once more. The game had already begun.