Chapter 1: The last train home
The train rumbled to a stop at Hogsmeade Station, the shrill whistle slicing through the quiet evening air. A woman stepped off the last carriage, her long black cloak billowing slightly in the crisp wind, her long, dark brown hair danced gently in the breeze, catching wisps of smoke that curled lazily from the train's engine. The platform was deserted now, the excited chatter of students already faded into the distance as the last thestral-drawn carriages creaked away toward the castle. She had arrived later than planned, as the journey from abroad had taken longer than anticipated.
Her fingers tightened on the handle of her trunk, its worn leather a reminder of years spent traveling across the globe. A sharp cry broke the silence, and she turned to see an enormous figure lumbering toward her through the mist.
"Professor Blackthorn, is it?" came the booming voice.
The figure emerged fully into the lamplight, revealing a large man with a wild, bushy beard streaked with grey. He wore thick robes patched with mismatched fabrics and had an enormous lantern in one hand.
"I'm Maxwell Grubb, the castle keeper," he said, extending a massive hand. "Pleasure to meet you. The headmaster asked me to escort you up to the castle. Figured you'd be needing a bit of light in this weather."
"Thank you, Mr. Grubb," she replied, shaking his hand. His grip was firm but warm, and his easy demeanor contrasted starkly with the tension she felt coiled in her chest.
"This way, Professor," Grubb said, motioning toward a waiting carriage. The thestral pulling it pawed at the ground, its leathery wings twitching in the cold.
The woman climbed inside, her trunk settled at her feet, and Grubb climbed in after her. The ride up to the castle was quiet, save for the rhythmic clatter of hooves on the gravel path. She stared out the window as the great silhouette of Hogwarts rose before them, its towers piercing the twilight sky. Her memories of this place were sharp but distant, like an old photograph viewed through a fogged lens. She had never imagined she would return, let alone as a professor.
Grubb's voice broke the silence. "The headmaster's been talking about you for weeks now. Says you've got quite the reputation. Taught in Paris, didn't you?"
"Among other places," she replied softly. She had no interest in recounting her years abroad, not tonight, after the long journey to get here.
"Well, we're glad to have you," Grubb said. "Alchemy and Ancient Magic—not something Hogwarts has seen in years. About time they brought it back, if you ask me."
She offered a faint smile but said nothing. The carriage rounded a bend, and the castle came into full view. Golden light spilled from the windows and the faint sound of voices carried on the wind. Students and staff alike would already be gathered in the Great Hall for the welcome feast.
The carriage came to a halt before the grand oak doors, and Grubb hopped out first, extending a hand to help the woman down. "I'll take your trunk to your quarters," he said. "You'd best head straight to the Great Hall. The headmaster will be wanting to introduce you to the students and the other professors."
She nodded her thanks and pulled her cloak tighter around her shoulders as she ascended the steps. The castle's massive doors creaked open, revealing the entrance hall bathed in warm torchlight. The air was thick with the scent of polished wood, ancient stone, and the faint tang of magical wards.
She paused briefly, taking in the familiar sight of the marble staircase, the towering arches, and the massive hourglasses tracking house points. The Gryffindor rubies gleamed brightly—a promising start for the year, she thought absently. Then, with a deep breath, she made her way toward the Great Hall.
The doors swung open just as the Sorting Hat sang its final note. Hundreds of heads turned toward her as she stepped inside, her entrance marked by the loud creak of the heavy doors. Whispers rippled through the room, students craning their necks to get a better look at the new professor.
"Ah, Professor Blackthorn!" Headmaster Elias Stonemire's voice rang out from the staff table, cutting through the murmurs. He rose from his seat, his robes flowing elegantly as he motioned for her to join him. "Perfect timing. Please, come and take your place."
She felt the weight of hundreds of eyes as she crossed the hall. Her boots echoed on the flagstone floor, the enchanted ceiling above reflecting the starry night sky. She reached the staff table, where Stonemire gestured to an empty seat near the center.
"Allow me to introduce Professor Ava Blackthorn," Stonemire announced, his voice calm but commanding. "She will be teaching Alchemy and Ancient Magic Studies, and, due to the retirement of our dear Professor Elwick, who previously held the position, Professor Blackthorn will also be stepping into the role of Head of Slytherin House. Let us welcome her warmly to Hogwarts."
A polite round of applause filled the hall, and Ava inclined her head in acknowledgment. As she took her seat, she quickly scanned the faces of her fellow professors.
Beside her sat Callum Hawthorne, the Charms professor, a wiry man with a sharp, birdlike demeanor. His glasses, slightly smudged, teetered precariously on the bridge of his nose, giving the impression that they might slide off at any moment. His thin, silver-streaked hair was combed back carefully, though a few rebellious strands always refused to cooperate. His robes were perpetually a bit wrinkled, as if he spent far more time in dusty archives than bothering with appearances.
Next to him was Selene Greystone, the Transfiguration professor, whose presence seemed to demand silence without her needing to utter a word. She was tall and poised, her posture rigid as though carved from marble. Her silver hair was pulled into a severe bun at the nape of her neck, not a strand out of place, and her pale blue eyes held a sharp, penetrating quality. Her dark green robes were crisp and tailored, accentuating her composed and formidable air.
On Ava's other side sat Juniper Merriweather, the Herbology professor, whose energy was an immediate contrast to Selene's. Juniper's bright auburn curls tumbled freely around her shoulders, glowing like fire in the candlelight. Her eyes were a striking shade of green—warm, lively, and always seeming to catch onto the smallest details. There was a softness to her that balanced her natural charisma, from the smudge of soil Ava spotted on the cuff of her robes to the faint dimple that appeared whenever she smiled. Her hands, strong and steady, bore faint marks of her work with plants—proof of her dedication and skill.
Ava noted the quiet hum of the staff table's activity as introductions ended. From the lively glint in Juniper's eyes to the calm stillness of Selene, each professor seemed to carry a unique rhythm that added to the life of Hogwarts itself.
"Welcome," Juniper said warmly, offering a hand. "I'm Juniper Merriweather, Herbology professor and Head of Hufflepuff House."
"Ava Blackthorn," Ava replied, shaking her hand briefly. "Pleasure to meet you."
"It's so exciting to have a new professor," Juniper continued, her hazel eyes sparkling. "Alchemy—what a fascinating subject. You must have so many stories from abroad."
Ava offered a faint smile but didn't elaborate. "It's good to be here," she said simply.
Juniper's smile faltered slightly, but she recovered quickly, turning her attention back to the Sorting Ceremony. Ava sighed inwardly, feeling the familiar tug of discomfort that came with social pleasantries. She had never been one for idle chatter.
The rest of the feast passed in a blur of introductions, speeches, and the clinking of goblets. The food was as extravagant as she remembered, and the students' energy was infectious, though Ava kept mostly to herself. When the last desserts had vanished from the golden plates, the students began filing out toward their dormitories, their laughter echoing in the halls.
As the staff began to disperse, Stonemire approached her. "I trust your first evening went well?"
"It did, Headmaster. Thank you," Ava replied.
"Good. Your quarters are prepared in the dungeons, near the Slytherin common room. I trust you'll find them comfortable. If you need anything, don't hesitate to ask."
"Of course. Goodnight, Headmaster."
Ava's quarters were modest but elegant, with dark green drapes, silver accents, and a roaring fire in the hearth. The room felt both welcoming and steeped in tradition, a fitting reflection of her new role. As she set down her bag, her gaze fell on a small basket sitting on the desk.
Inside were bundles of herbs tied with twine—lavender, chamomile, and something that glowed faintly under the firelight. A small note lay atop the arrangement, written in neat, looping script:
Welcome to Hogwarts, Professor Blackthorn. I hope these herbs bring some calm to your first days. If you ever need anything, please don't hesitate to ask. – J.M.
Ava's brow furrowed as she pieced it together, the initials sparking recognition. J.M. – Juniper Merriweather. The ever-cheerful Herbology professor she had met at dinner.
She stared at the note for a long moment before setting it down carefully. The gesture was thoughtful, almost disarmingly so. Ava couldn't remember the last time someone had gone out of their way to make her feel welcome.
Her lips pressed into a thin line as she turned back to unpacking her trunk. Tomorrow would be her first full day as a professor at Hogwarts, and she had much to prepare for. But as she lay down later that night, the faint scent of lavender lingering in the air, she couldn't quite shake the image of Juniper's warm smile.