The autumn of Rey's second year brought changes to Hogwarts. The castle corridors buzzed with a different kind of energy – the kind that always accompanied N.E.W.T. year for the seventh-years, but this time tinged with something more. Perhaps it was the way the professors watched Poe Dameron with increasing scrutiny, or how Kylo Ren's solitary figure seemed to carry an even heavier weight of purpose than before.
Rey noticed the differences during Quidditch practice. As reserve Seeker, she spent countless hours training with Poe, who seemed more driven than ever in his final year. His natural charm now carried an edge of intensity, especially when Prophet articles appeared speculating about the prophecy and the growing signs of dark magic that had been reported across Britain.
"Perfect form, Rey!" Poe called out as she executed a particularly tight turn. "You'll be ready to take over next year." He flew alongside her, his captain's badge gleaming in the morning sun. "Just remember – constant vigilance. Never know when you might need these skills for more than just Quidditch."
Finn, now a third-year and recently made Chaser, rolled his eyes. "Not everything is about the prophecy, Poe."
But Rey had seen how Poe's hand often strayed to his wand during practice, how his eyes scanned the grounds as if expecting something to emerge from the shadows. The weight of being the supposed chosen one seemed to be pressing harder on him as his final year progressed.
And then there was Kylo. Rey sometimes caught glimpses of him in the library, surrounded by ancient texts, his power practically crackling in the air around him. He'd grown even taller over the summer, if that was possible, and there was something in his eyes that reminded her of gathering storm clouds.
Their Christmas Eve friendship hadn't exactly lasted – how could it, with house rivalries and years between them? But sometimes, when they passed in the corridors, there would be a moment of recognition, a nod that acknowledged their shared night when barriers had briefly fallen.
"He's different this year," Rose observed one day as they watched Kylo stride past their study table. "More... intense. And I didn't think that was possible."
"They both are," Rey replied, thinking of Poe's increasingly militant Quidditch practices. "It's like they're preparing for something."
The seventh-years' coursework was notoriously difficult, but both Poe and Kylo seemed to be pushing themselves beyond even those demanding requirements. Professor Skywalker's Defense Against the Dark Arts classes had become particularly intense when either of them was present – their duels were legendary, neither willing to concede an inch to the other.
"Did you hear?" Finn dropped into a seat beside them, lowering his voice. "They're saying the Auror Office is recruiting early this year. Everyone expects Poe to join straight after graduation. They say they need him, with all these dark magic incidents happening."
"What about Kylo?" Rey found herself asking.
Finn's expression darkened. "No one knows what he's planning. But whatever it is..." he glanced toward the Restricted Section where Kylo's tall form could just be seen among the shelves, "I doubt it's anything good."
Rey wasn't so sure. She remembered the boy who'd given her flying tips over Christmas pudding, who'd dropped his guard for just a moment and shown a different side. But she had to admit – something was building this year, like pressure before a storm. And somehow, both Poe Dameron and Kylo Ren seemed to be at the center of it.
Rey was halfway through her porridge when the morning owls swooped into the Great Hall. The usual cheerful chaos of mail delivery was quickly replaced by an unsettling silence as students unfolded their copies of the Daily Prophet.
MYSTERIOUS DEATHS CONTINUE: THREE MORE HALF-BLOOD FAMILIES FOUND DEAD No Dark Mark, But Ministry Fears Echo of Death Eater Methods
The headline sprawled across the front page, accompanied by a moving photograph of Aurors examining a destroyed home. Rey watched as Poe's face darkened while reading the article, his knuckles whitening around the newspaper's edges.
"Fourth attack this month," he said through clenched teeth. "All half-blood or muggle-born families. Just like the old days." His eyes snapped up to the Slytherin table, where students were huddled over their own copies of the Prophet.
Before Finn could stop him, Poe was on his feet, striding across the Hall with purpose. The usual morning chatter died as students noticed the Head Boy's approach to the Slytherin table.
"Interesting read?" Poe's voice carried in the sudden quiet. "Must be nice, keeping up with your families' handiwork."
Several Slytherins bristled. "Watch your mouth, Dameron," a sixth-year warned.
"Or what?" Poe's hand drifted toward his wand. "You'll add me to the list? My mother was muggle-born, you know. Am I next?"
"We don't know anything about it," a younger Slytherin protested, but Poe's attention had already fixed on Kylo, who sat at the end of the table, apparently absorbed in his own copy of the Prophet.
"What about you, Ren?" Poe's voice dropped dangerously. "All those restricted books you've been studying... all those late nights in the library. Learning some interesting spells, are you?"
Kylo slowly folded his newspaper, his movements deliberate. The air seemed to crackle with tension between them.
"Poe, come on," Finn had caught up, tugging at his friend's sleeve. "This isn't helping."
"Go back to your table, Dameron," Kylo said quietly, but there was steel in his voice. "Your heroic accusations are interrupting breakfast."
"People are dying," Poe snarled. "Families are being murdered. And you're all just sitting here, pretending—"
"Pretending what?" Kylo stood suddenly, his height towering over Poe. "That we don't see how you're loving this? Another chance to play the chosen one? How convenient for you."
Rey watched from the Gryffindor table, her heart pounding. She saw Professor Skywalker rising from the staff table, but he seemed to be letting the confrontation play out.
"At least I'm doing something," Poe shot back. "While you lurk in the shadows with your dark magic—"
"Watch your mouth" Kylo's voice was barely above a whisper, but it carried. "You talk too much."
"Of course you don't care," Poe continued, his voice rising. "Why would you? You're just like the rest of them, aren't you? A pure-blood fanatic, probably raised on stories of Palpatine's glory days."
Kylo's face closed off completely. "Get out of my sight, Dameron. Before I forget we're in the Great Hall."
But Poe was beyond caution now, weeks of fear and frustration pouring out of him. "I've seen the books you read, the spells you practice when you think no one's watching. Dark magic, all of it. Just like the Death Eaters used."
"Poe, please," Rey found herself on her feet, moving towards the confrontation. "This isn't helping anyone."
"Stay out of this, Rey," Poe snapped, not taking his eyes off Kylo. "He needs to hear this. They all do." He gestured broadly at the Slytherin table.
"While innocent families are being slaughtered, you sit here in your privileged bubble, pretending it doesn't concern you. But we all know the truth, don't we? Your parents, your grandparents – they were probably right there alongside Palpatine, torturing muggles and hunting down half-bloods for sport."
A collective gasp went through the Hall. Accusing someone of Death Eater ancestry was no small matter, even now, years after the war. Rey saw Professor Skywalker moving swiftly towards them, his face grim.
Whispers rippled through the Hall. Even some of the Slytherins looked uncomfortable now, glancing between Poe and Kylo with wary expressions.
In one fluid motion, he vaulted over the table, his wand raised. "You know nothing of my family"
"I know enough," Poe pressed on, oblivious to the danger. "I know your kind. Probably have a Dark Mark hidden under those robes, don't you? Following in daddy's footsteps?"
"ENOUGH!" Professor Skywalker's voice boomed through the Hall, magically amplified. "Mr. Dameron, twenty points from Gryffindor for instigating conflict. Mr. Ren, ten points from Slytherin for rising to the bait. Both of you walk away"
"Come on," Finn finally managed to pull Poe away. "He's not worth it."
As they returned to the Gryffindor table, Rey caught Kylo's eye. For just a second, she saw something there – not the cold mask he showed Poe, but something confused and almost pained. Then he noticed her watching and turned away sharply, gathering his books and sweeping out of the Hall.
The Prophet lay abandoned on the Slytherin table, its headlines screaming silently about darkness rising once again in the wizarding world. "MINISTRY FEARS GROWING DARKNESS" and "ARE THE OLD WAYS RETURNING?"
Rey caught fragments of heated debates breaking out at every table.
"...always knew the Slytherins were involved..."
"...Dameron's got a point, doesn't he? Where are these attacks coming from if not..."
"...but Ren's always been a loner, even among Slytherins..."
"Mr. Dameron." Professor Skywalker's voice cut through the tense aftermath. He had finally made his way down from the staff table, his expression unreadable. "A word, if you please."
Poe was still breathing heavily, his hands clenched at his sides, but he nodded stiffly.
"I have someone in my office who'd like to meet you," Luke continued, his voice pitched low enough that only those nearby could hear. "An Auror from the Ministry. They're looking to start early recruitment, given recent events."
Rey watched Poe's posture shift immediately – anger giving way to keen interest. Even Finn looked impressed.
"When?" Poe asked, smoothing his robes.
"Now, if you're finished with breakfast." Luke's eyes flickered briefly toward the doors where Kylo had disappeared. "And Poe? While I understand your... concerns, perhaps antagonizing fellow students isn't the most productive approach."
"With all due respect, Professor," Poe's voice was tight, "someone has to stand up—"
"Someone does," Luke agreed quietly. "But how we stand up matters as much as why. Come along now. Wouldn't want to keep Auror Wexley waiting."
As Poe followed Luke from the Hall, his head held high, whispers erupted among the tables. Everyone knew the Auror Office rarely recruited before graduation – things must be more serious than the Prophet was letting on.
Rey caught fragments of conversation around her:
"Poes's one of the best..."
"Of course they want him, he's the chosen one..."
"Better start early, if what they're saying about the dark magic is true..."
She noticed Finn watching his friend go with a mixture of pride and worry. "They'll take him for sure," he said, half to himself. "Poe's exactly what they need right now."
Professor Skywalker's office was warm with morning sunlight, its walls lined with fascinating artifacts from his years of teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts. A tall, broad-shouldered wizard in Auror robes stood examining a particularly interesting dark detector when they entered.
"Poe Dameron," Luke introduced, "meet Auror Temmin Wexley. I'll leave you two to chat while I fetch our other candidate. Mr. Ren might take some convincing to join us, but I believe both of you deserve this opportunity."
As Luke departed, Auror Wexley turned to Poe with a friendly smile. "Please, call me Snap – everyone does. Have a seat." He gestured to one of the comfortable chairs before Luke's desk.
"You were in Gryffindor too, weren't you?" Poe asked, noticing the small lion pin on Wexley's robes.
"Still wearing my colors proud," Wexley grinned, touching the pin. "Class of '85. Played Beater for the house team. Though I hear you've made quite a name for yourself as Seeker."
Poe relaxed slightly, feeling more at ease. "Two cups in a row, and hoping to make it a third for my final year."
"Going for the hat trick, eh?" Wexley smiled approvingly. "That's the kind of determination we look for. And I know it's not just Quidditch either." He pulled out a scroll of parchment. "Your O.W.L. scores were exceptional – Outstanding in Defense Against the Dark Arts, Charms, and Transfiguration. And your current N.E.W.T. progress..." He whistled appreciatively. "Professor Skywalker tells me you're top of your class in practical defensive magic."
"Joint top," Poe corrected reluctantly, thinking of Kylo.
"Ah yes, Mr. Ren." Wexley's expression grew more serious. "Luke speaks highly of both of you. These are dangerous times, Poe. We need the best – and not just because of some prophecy."
Poe straightened in his chair. "You know about—"
"The Half-Blood Prince prophecy? It's been a topic of discussion at the Ministry, especially with these recent attacks. But prophecy or not, what interests me is your actual abilities. Your dedication. Your instinct for what's right."
Poe leaned forward in his chair, his expression growing serious. "These attacks on half-blood families... I want to help stop them. As soon as I graduate, I'm ready to join the fight."
"That's the kind of dedication we need," Wexley nodded approvingly.
Poe hesitated, then pressed on. "About the other candidate though – Kylo Ren. I have concerns. He's a Slytherin, and with everything that happened in the last war..." He ran a hand through his dark curls, frustrated. "You should see him, always practicing advanced magic alone, obsessing over dark arts texts in the library. It's why I push myself so hard. Someone needs to be ready if..."
Wexley's expression grew grave. "I understand your concerns. During my time at Hogwarts, we saw several Slytherins turn to the dark side, become Death Eaters. History has a way of teaching us hard lessons." He pulled out an official-looking envelope. "I'll keep your observations in mind. For now, though, I'd like to offer you this – application forms for immediate entry into Auror training upon graduation."
They stood, shaking hands firmly. "Thank you, sir. I won't let you down."
"I know you won't, Dameron. We'll be in touch—"
The door opened, and Professor Skywalker returned with Kylo Ren, whose tall frame seemed to fill the doorway. His dark eyes took in the scene – Poe and Wexley's clasped hands, the Ministry envelope, the shared Gryffindor camaraderie – and something flickered across his face too quickly to read.
"Ah, Mr. Ren," Wexley said, his tone noticeably cooler. "Thank you for joining us."
Poe gathered his things, including the precious envelope. As he passed Kylo in the doorway, their shoulders nearly brushing, the tension in the room was almost tangible.
"Auror Wexley," Luke gestured to Kylo with evident pride, "allow me to properly introduce one of our most gifted students. Mr. Ren's magical abilities are extraordinary – some of the most impressive I've seen in my years of teaching."
Kylo stood rigid, his face carefully blank as Wexley examined his academic record.
"Outstanding in every N.E.W.T. subject," Luke continued. "His practical work in Defense Against the Dark Arts is particularly remarkable. The Ministry would greatly benefit from—"
"Interesting," Wexley interrupted, frowning at the parchment. "No parents listed. No birth date. No home address." He looked up sharply. "Rather unusual for a student file, wouldn't you say?"
The temperature in the room seemed to drop several degrees. Kylo's jaw tightened almost imperceptibly.
"His parents prefer to maintain their privacy," Luke said carefully. "I can personally vouch for—"
"Privacy?" Wexley's voice hardened. "Or are they hiding something? Perhaps their roles in the last war?" He turned to Luke, his former friendliness gone. "You know as well as I do, Luke, that many pure-blood families went into hiding after the war. Death Eaters trying to protect their children from prosecution."
"That's enough," Luke's voice carried a dangerous edge. "I called you here specifically about Kylo's candidacy. His abilities—"
"I came because of our Gryffindor connection," Wexley cut in. "And I've found what I'm looking for in Dameron. He's the right fit." He turned to Kylo, his expression cold. "No offense, Mr. Ren, but the Auror Office can't risk working with potential Death Eater spawn. We've learned our lesson about trusting Slytherins with questionable backgrounds."
"How dare you?" Luke's outrage filled the room like thunder. "You haven't even tested his abilities, haven't given him a chance—"
"I don't need to." Wexley gathered his papers. "Times are dangerous enough without inviting snakes into our ranks. I apologize for wasting your time."
Kylo hadn't moved, hadn't changed expression, but there was something in his eyes – a familiar pain, quickly masked by cold indifference. "No apology necessary," he said quietly. "I wouldn't want to make anyone... uncomfortable."
The sarcasm in his voice was subtle but cutting. Without another word, he turned and left the office.
"You're making a mistake," Luke called after Wexley, who was also heading for the door. "And showing the exact kind of prejudice that led to the last war in the first place."
Wexley paused at the threshold. "Better cautious than dead, Professor. You should remember that too." And then he was gone, leaving Luke alone with his anger.
"An Auror! A real Auror wants to recruit you?" A first-year Gryffindor was practically bouncing in his seat as Poe held court at dinner that evening. The Ministry envelope sat prominently beside his plate, drawing admiring glances from everyone nearby.
"Auror Wexley said they need the best," Poe replied, his usual confidence amplified by success. "With everything that's been happening, they're not waiting until after graduation anymore."
"Of course they want you," said a fourth-year girl adoringly. "You're the chosen one. Who else would they pick?"
Rey watched from her spot beside Finn as Poe basked in the attention. She had to admit, he wore it well – that easy charm that made everyone want to believe in him.
"Did you hear about the practical tests?" Finn asked eagerly. "I heard Auror training is brutal."
"Wexley says I'll start with advanced combat training," Poe began, but his voice trailed off as the Great Hall's doors opened.
Kylo Ren entered, his tall frame casting a long shadow in the evening light. The usual whispers followed him to the Slytherin table, but there was something different about his bearing today – a tightly coiled tension that seemed more pronounced than usual.
As Kylo took his seat, Poe's expression shifted into a smirk. He made a show of picking up the Ministry envelope, turning it so the official seal was clearly visible from across the Hall.
"Guess some of us are more suited for fighting dark wizards than others," he said, just loud enough to carry. Several Gryffindors snickered.
Rey noticed how Kylo's shoulders stiffened slightly, though he didn't turn around. His housemates were watching him, clearly aware something had happened.
"I heard Wexley was a Gryffindor too," someone added. "He knows who he can trust."
"Well, with all these attacks happening, they can't exactly risk hiring anyone with... questionable connections," Poe said meaningfully, his eyes fixed on Kylo's back.
Rey felt a twist in her stomach. The Christmas dinner from last year felt like a distant dream now, as she watched the gulf between houses grow wider with every headline, every suspicion, every small cruelty.
Kylo stood abruptly, his untouched plate vanishing as he strode out of the Hall. Just before he reached the doors, Rey saw him pull something from his robes – a book so old its binding was barely holding together. Even from a distance, she could make out part of its title: "Advanced Defensive Magic."
The doors closed behind him with a sound like thunder.