Chapter 26: The First Morning at Hogwarts

The first rays of dawn filtered through the high windows of Gryffindor Tower, casting a warm glow over the sleeping first-years. In the boys' dormitory, most of the students were still tangled in their sheets, lost in deep slumber—except for one.

Atharv had already woken up. Years of disciplined routine made it impossible for him to sleep in. He moved gracefully, his every motion fluid as he dressed in his uniform with practiced ease. His white hair, still slightly tousled from sleep, contrasted against the deep red and gold of Gryffindor robes. A quick glance around the room confirmed what he already knew—Harry, Ron, and the others were still deep asleep.

He let out a soft sigh before walking over to Harry's bed and shaking him gently. "Harry, wake up. It's morning." His voice was calm but firm.

Harry stirred, blinking sleepily up at Atharv. "Already?" he mumbled, rubbing his eyes.

"Yes. You don't want to be late on your first day, do you?" Atharv said with a small smile.

Harry sat up quickly at that, suddenly remembering where he was. "Right—right. First day."

Atharv then turned to Ron, who was snoring loudly, completely unaware of the morning light. Raising an eyebrow, Atharv shook him a little harder.

"Ron, get up," he called, but Ron only grumbled, pulling his blanket over his head.

Atharv smirked and glanced at Harry before grabbing Ron's blanket and yanking it off in one swift motion. "Rise and shine, Weasley."

Ron let out a dramatic groan. "Five more minutes, Mum..."

"Not your mum," Atharv responded dryly. "Get up before I let my phoenix wake you up."

That worked like a charm. Ron's eyes shot open, and he scrambled to sit up, grumbling under his breath. "Alright, alright! No need to bring your bird into this..."

Atharv chuckled before straightening his robes. "Hurry up. I'm going down to the common room."

Meanwhile, in the girls' dormitory, Celeste had also woken up early, already dressed impeccably in her Gryffindor uniform. Her blonde hair cascaded down her back in soft waves, and her sapphire-blue eyes shimmered in the morning light. Unlike the other girls who were still asleep, she was effortlessly graceful, moving through her routine with an elegance that seemed almost otherworldly.

After making sure the girls were waking up on time, she descended the spiraling staircase leading to the common room.

Atharv was already waiting for her, standing near the fireplace, his crimson eyes softening the moment they met hers. Without hesitation, Celeste walked up to him, and he reached for her hand instinctively, intertwining their fingers.

"Good morning, mon amour," Celeste greeted, her voice warm and affectionate.

"Good morning, Celeste," Atharv responded, his tone carrying the same warmth.

She smiled before leaning up slightly, pressing a gentle kiss against his cheek. He returned the gesture, brushing a light kiss against her temple before pulling her close. They sat together on the couch near the fire, Celeste tucking herself comfortably against his side as his arm wrapped around her.

For a while, they simply enjoyed the peace, whispering in soft tones to each other, sharing their thoughts about the coming day. It was a moment of warmth, of quiet intimacy that needed no words.

A few minutes later, hurried footsteps broke the moment as Harry and Hermione entered the common room, looking more put together than Ron, who stumbled in after them, still half-asleep.

Hermione paused, blinking at the sight of Celeste curled up against Atharv, their fingers still intertwined. She quickly averted her gaze, clearing her throat. "Good morning!" she said a little too loudly.

"Morning, Hermione," Celeste greeted, her usual grace in place as she sat up properly but still close to Atharv.

Harry sat down next to them, looking much more awake now. "So... first day at Hogwarts," he said, rubbing his hands together.

"Yeah, and already way too early," Ron grumbled, plopping onto the couch. "How are you two even awake?"

"Discipline, Ron," Atharv replied with a smirk.

Ron groaned. "Of course it is."

Celeste giggled before glancing at the time. "We should head down for breakfast soon."

"Good idea," Hermione said eagerly. "I can't wait to see the Great Hall again!"

And with that, the five of them—now fully awake and ready for their first day—made their way toward the portrait hole, stepping into the start of their Hogwarts journey together.

Breakfast & Interactions

The Great Hall was alive with chatter and the clinking of cutlery as the first morning at Hogwarts began in full swing. The enchanted ceiling reflected the soft golden hues of the rising sun, casting a warm glow over the four long tables, where students were eagerly digging into their breakfasts.

As Atharv, Celeste, Harry, Ron, and Hermione stepped through the doors, the lively buzz of conversation seemed to momentarily quiet. Heads turned, whispers spread like wildfire, and eyes locked onto them—particularly on Atharv and Celeste, whose striking features and poised demeanor naturally drew attention.

Atharv, as always, remained unaffected. His crimson eyes swept over the hall with a composed elegance, completely ignoring the stares. Celeste, walking beside him, carried herself with the same grace, her delicate hand resting lightly on his arm as they moved toward the Gryffindor table.

Just as they were about to sit down, an all-too-familiar drawling voice cut through the air.

"Well, well, if it isn't the prodigy and his little princess."

Draco Malfoy approached, flanked by Crabbe and Goyle. His usual smug expression was in place, though there was an unmistakable flicker of caution in his pale gray eyes as he looked at Atharv. He had learned the hard way that this particular 'mudblood' wasn't someone he could easily intimidate.

Celeste didn't even grace him with a glance, reaching for her goblet of juice as though he were nothing but background noise. Atharv, on the other hand, turned his gaze toward Draco, his expression unreadable.

Draco sneered but hesitated slightly before continuing, "Still playing king and queen, I see." His tone held a forced bravado. "Not surprising, really. A shame you ended up in Gryffindor instead of Slytherin where true ambition lies."

Atharv, calm as ever, tilted his head slightly. "Ambition without wisdom is just arrogance, Malfoy," he replied smoothly. His voice was quiet but carried an unmistakable weight, effortlessly silencing the space around them. "I assume you would know something about that."

Draco's jaw tightened, but before he could come up with a retort, Celeste finally spared him a glance. Her sapphire-blue eyes shimmered with an icy sharpness. "If you're quite done wasting our time, we'd like to have our breakfast in peace," she said, her voice polite yet carrying a quiet authority that made even Crabbe and Goyle hesitate.

Draco faltered under their combined presence, clearing his throat before muttering something under his breath and stepping back. "Whatever," he scoffed before retreating to the Slytherin table.

Ron let out a low whistle. "You two really know how to put him in his place."

Celeste gave a small, graceful shrug. "He's predictable."

Harry chuckled as they finally took their seats, the tension fading as the enticing aroma of breakfast filled the air.

Moments later, the morning owl post swooped in, dozens of owls flying gracefully above the tables, dropping letters and newspapers into waiting hands. Among the deliveries, Professor McGonagall walked through the hall, handing out the first-years' schedules.

"Here you are, Mr. Potter," she said briskly, placing a parchment in front of Harry. "Miss Granger, Mr. Weasley, Mr. Mishra, and Miss de Montclair." She gave a slight approving nod at Atharv and Celeste before moving on.

Hermione immediately snatched up her schedule, her brown eyes scanning it with barely contained excitement. "Oh, we have Transfiguration first! That's with Professor McGonagall. And then Charms, History of Magic, and—oh, Potions with the Slytherins."

Harry glanced at his schedule and groaned. "Potions with Slytherins? Great."

Ron, stuffing a piece of toast into his mouth, mumbled, "Bet Snape's gonna be horrible."

As if on cue, Harry felt an intense gaze on him. Looking up, he met the cold, piercing stare of Professor Snape from the staff table. The man's dark eyes flickered to his scar before narrowing slightly, his expression unreadable yet unmistakably disapproving.

Harry quickly looked away.

"I don't think he likes me," he muttered.

"You don't say," Ron said sarcastically.

Meanwhile, at the staff table, McGonagall observed Atharv and Celeste with quiet approval. Their composure and intellect had already set them apart. Dumbledore, seated at the center, stroked his beard thoughtfully as he watched the first-years—his blue eyes twinkling as they lingered on Atharv and Celeste for a moment longer than the others.

Breakfast continued, with the five of them falling into easy conversation about their upcoming classes. Hermione, of course, was most excited, while Ron was already dreading the coursework.

Celeste leaned slightly against Atharv as they ate, her fingers occasionally brushing against his under the table—a subtle yet natural closeness they shared. Atharv, as always, responded with an effortless familiarity, handing her a neatly sliced fruit without a word.

Their first day at Hogwarts had only just begun, and yet, an undeniable shift had already started—one that would shape the years to come.

Transfiguration

The first day of lessons at Hogwarts had arrived, and excitement buzzed in the air as the Gryffindor and Slytherin first-years made their way to their first class—Transfiguration with Professor McGonagall.

As they settled in, whispers filled the room. Many students stole glances at Atharv and Celeste, their presence commanding attention as usual. Draco Malfoy sat nearby with his Slytherin companions, sending smug looks at the Gryffindors.

McGonagall wasted no time in demonstrating why Transfiguration was one of the most challenging subjects. Without a word, she transformed into a sleek tabby cat before leaping gracefully onto her desk.

Gasps rippled through the classroom.

"Bloody hell!" Ron yelped, nearly falling out of his seat.

McGonagall shifted back into her human form and surveyed them with a sharp gaze. "Transfiguration is extremely difficult. Anyone caught not taking it seriously will leave this class knowing nothing."

Atharv observed her transformation intently, his crimson eyes narrowing slightly in analysis. Seamless execution. No unnecessary movement.

Their first task was to transform a matchstick into a needle.

Atharv picked up his matchstick, rolling it between his fingers thoughtfully before waving his wand with smooth precision. A soft shimmer ran through the wood before it solidified into a perfect silver needle.

McGonagall inspected it and nodded approvingly. "Excellent, Mr. Mishra."

Celeste, sitting beside him, moved with effortless grace. With a flick of her wand, her matchstick melted into a delicate, gleaming needle.

"Superb, Miss Montclair," McGonagall said, her lips curling slightly in approval. It's rare to see such control in first-years.

Meanwhile, Ron groaned in frustration as his matchstick remained stubbornly unchanged.

"Ugh, this is impossible!" he muttered.

Atharv glanced over and smiled. "Try focusing your intent a little more," he advised. "Don't force it—feel the shift in the material."

Ron sighed but followed Atharv's advice, adjusting his grip and focusing harder. With another attempt, his matchstick shivered and slowly morphed into something vaguely metallic.

Ron's eyes widened. "I—I did it?"

Atharv clapped him on the back. "You're getting there. Keep at it."

McGonagall, passing by, observed Ron's partial success and nodded approvingly. "Much better, Mr. Weasley."

Draco Malfoy, watching from a few seats away, scowled. "A Weasley needing help from a—"

But before he could finish, Atharv shot him a cool, regal glance that made Draco swallow his words.

Charms Class

Their next class, Charms, was held in a warm, cozy classroom, where Professor Flitwick stood on a stack of books to see over his desk. Despite his small stature, his presence was lively and commanding.

"Welcome, welcome!" he chirped. "Today, we shall be learning a most essential spell—Wingardium Leviosa! The Levitation Charm! Now remember—it's *Wingardium Levi-*o-sa, not Leviosar!"

Excitement filled the air as the students paired up and received their feathers.

Hermione was, unsurprisingly, the first to master the spell. Her feather lifted gracefully into the air, floating steadily as she beamed with pride.

"See?" she said, looking around. "It's all in the pronunciation and wrist movement!"

Ron, however, was struggling. His wand movements were erratic, and no matter how hard he tried, his feather remained stubbornly on the desk.

"Wingardium Levi-OOO-sar—" he grumbled, flicking his wand in frustration.

Hermione sighed dramatically. "*It's Levio-*saaah, not Leviosar."

Atharv, sitting nearby, chuckled. "Here, let me show you."

He leaned over to Ron's side, his movements controlled and refined. "The key is precision. Watch my wrist—it's a smooth swish, not a jab. Feel the intent behind the spell."

Ron sighed but followed Atharv's guidance. "Wingardium Leviosa."

This time, his feather trembled slightly before wobbling into the air by an inch.

"I—I DID IT!" Ron shouted.

Flitwick beamed. "Wonderful progress, Mr. Weasley! And excellent guidance, Mr. Mishra."

Harry, who had been silently observing, turned to Atharv. "Could you show me as well?"

Atharv nodded. "Of course."

He repeated the movements, demonstrating the subtle elegance of the spell. Harry mimicked him, carefully following the fluid motion.

"Wingardium Leviosa."

To his delight, his feather smoothly rose off the table, hovering steadily in the air.

"I did it!" Harry said, grinning.

Flitwick clapped his hands in excitement. "Marvelous, Mr. Potter! Well done, indeed!"

Celeste, meanwhile, performed the spell effortlessly, her feather not only lifting but twirling delicately in the air, as if enchanted by her mere presence.

Flitwick nearly swooned. "Exquisite, Miss Montclair! Such grace! Such precision!"

Draco Malfoy, who had been watching with growing irritation, scowled at their success.

"Bet they practiced before coming here," he muttered to Crabbe and Goyle.

As class ended, Ron clapped Atharv on the back. "You know, for someone ridiculously good at everything, you're actually a decent bloke."

Atharv smirked. "I'll take that as a compliment."

Celeste laughed, tucking a golden strand of hair behind her ear. "You'd better. That's as high a praise as you'll get from Ron."

Harry, smiling at the group, felt something warm settle in his chest. For the first time, I think I truly have friends.

With that comforting thought, they left the Charms classroom, walking together toward their next adventure.

Potions with Snape

The first-years made their way down to the dungeons for their first-ever Potions class. The air was damp and cool, and the flickering torchlight cast eerie shadows on the stone walls. The atmosphere was vastly different from the lively Charms or Transfiguration classrooms—this place felt more ominous, more serious.

Atharv and Celeste walked side by side, their presence radiating elegance even in the gloom of the dungeon. Ron shivered slightly. "Why does this place feel like a haunted crypt?" he muttered.

Before anyone could respond, the heavy wooden door creaked open, and in strode Professor Severus Snape—his black robes billowing behind him like a shadow come to life. His piercing dark eyes scanned the students with an unreadable expression before he spoke in a soft, almost whisper-like tone.

"There will be no foolish wand-waving in this class," Snape began, his voice silky yet sharp. "As such, I do not expect many of you to truly understand the subtle science and exact art that is potion-making."

The room was deathly silent. Snape's gaze finally stopped on Harry Potter.

"Ah, our…celebrity," he sneered.

Harry stiffened at the clear hostility in Snape's tone, but before he could say anything, Snape continued.

"Tell me, Potter, what would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Harry blinked. "I—I don't know, sir."

Snape's lip curled. "Pity. Let's try another. Where would you look if I asked you to find a bezoar?"

Hermione's hand shot into the air instantly, but Snape ignored her. His eyes flickered to Atharv, who sat calmly, observing everything with his crimson red eyes.

"And you, Mr. Mishra?" Snape asked, his tone challenging.

Atharv remained perfectly composed. "A bezoar is found in the stomach of a goat, sir," he answered smoothly. "It is an antidote to most poisons."

There was a flicker of something unreadable in Snape's expression before he asked, "And what is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

Atharv tilted his head slightly. "They're the same plant, sir. Also known as aconite."

A murmur spread through the classroom. Even Hermione, who had been eagerly raising her hand, turned to look at Atharv in admiration. Snape's eyes lingered on him for a second longer before he turned away with a dramatic sweep of his robes.

"Clearly, some of you have bothered to read ahead," he muttered.

Ron leaned toward Atharv. "Mate, are you secretly trying to impress Snape?"

Atharv smirked. "Just answering questions, Ron."

Snape continued his lesson, explaining the importance of precision in potion-making, before assigning them their first practical task: brewing a Boil-Curing Potion.

The students quickly paired up. Celeste worked with Hermione, while Atharv paired up with Harry.

Celeste, with her sapphire blue eyes gleaming in concentration, moved with effortless grace. Every movement—measuring ingredients, stirring the cauldron—was done with delicate precision. The soft shimmer of her golden blonde hair under the dungeon lights only added to her ethereal presence.

Even Snape had to pause near her cauldron, watching her flawless potion bubble to perfection. Though he said nothing, the flicker of approval in his usually cold eyes was noticeable.

Atharv, working alongside Harry, was equally precise. "Here, add the porcupine quills after taking it off the heat," he instructed Harry calmly. "If you add them too soon, the potion will curdle."

Harry nodded, following his directions, and soon enough, their potion turned the exact shade of green described in their textbooks.

On the other hand, Ron's cauldron was producing thick black smoke.

Snape approached his table and sneered. "Weasley, did you even read the instructions, or are you attempting to poison your classmates?"

Ron scowled but said nothing as Snape waved his wand, vanishing the ruined potion.

Despite the obvious talent displayed by Atharv and Celeste, Snape refused to acknowledge it. Instead, as if by sheer habit, he turned to Harry.

"Potter, five points from Gryffindor for your...ineptitude."

Harry's mouth fell open. "But—but I did everything right!"

Ron groaned. "And thus begins the Snape hates Gryffindor era," he muttered under his breath.

Atharv, however, remained calm, though his crimson eyes darkened slightly as he spoke smoothly, "Professor, if I may ask, what exactly was incorrect about Harry's potion?"

Snape turned slowly to face him, eyes narrowing. For a moment, the class held its breath, waiting for an explosion. But instead, Snape merely sneered.

"Five more points from Gryffindor for questioning the professor."

Ron let out an exaggerated groan. Celeste's lips pressed into a thin line, irritation flashing in her normally graceful features. Hermione looked scandalized but knew better than to argue.

As class ended, they packed up their things.

Ron turned to Atharv as they exited the dungeon. "I don't get it, mate. You're brilliant, and Celeste made a perfect potion, yet Snape just ignores all that and still takes points?"

Atharv smirked slightly. "That, my friend, is called favoritism. And Snape excels at it."

Harry sighed. "I just don't understand why he hates me so much."

Celeste slipped her hand into Atharv's as they walked, her touch gentle but firm. "Whatever the reason, Harry, you have friends. We won't let unfairness break you."

Harry smiled at her words, warmth spreading in his chest. For the first time, I think I truly have people who have my back.

With that thought, they made their way to their next class, determined not to let Snape ruin their first day.

Friendship Growth & Challenges

Over the next few days, Hogwarts began to feel more familiar. The once-intimidating stone walls, the ever-moving staircases, and even the enchanted ceiling of the Great Hall now felt like a second home to the first-years.

For Harry, it was a completely new experience—having friends who genuinely cared about him. Ron, with his easygoing nature, always made things lively. Hermione, despite her constant obsession with books and lessons, was quickly becoming someone he admired. But Atharv and Celeste—they were something different altogether.

The two had a natural grace about them, always moving in sync, always knowing what the other was thinking. Their closeness hadn't gone unnoticed either.

Whispers followed them in the hallways.

"Did you see how Celeste smiles only at Atharv?"

"I heard they kissed before heading to their dorms!"

"She's the most beautiful girl at Hogwarts, and he's like some noble prince—are they even real?"

"Do you think they're betrothed?"

Some students admired them. Others envied them. A few even seemed resentful, though neither Atharv nor Celeste paid much attention.

A Quiet Moment in the Courtyard

One afternoon, the group sat together in the courtyard after their classes. Celeste leaned against Atharv, resting her head on his shoulder while they enjoyed the gentle breeze. Hermione sat with a book, occasionally glancing at them as though trying to understand how two people could look so effortlessly perfect together.

Ron was lying on the grass, hands behind his head. "I still don't get why everyone's so obsessed with you two," he said, looking up at the sky.

Celeste smirked. "Because we are exceptional, Ron," she teased lightly.

Ron rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, the golden couple of Hogwarts or whatever."

Harry chuckled. "I think they're just not used to seeing people like you two."

Atharv gave a small, knowing smile. "It's human nature to admire what seems unreachable. But admiration fades if you don't let it control you."

Hermione put her book down. "That's actually a very philosophical way to put it," she said, looking at him with newfound curiosity. "Do you always think like that?"

Atharv glanced at Celeste, who smiled at him before he replied, "I prefer to think clearly about everything, Hermione. There's always something deeper beneath the surface."

Celeste intertwined her fingers with his. "Which is why I like him so much," she added playfully, making Ron groan.

"Alright, alright, enough with the couple stuff," Ron grumbled. "Seriously, it's like you two stepped right out of a fairy tale."

Celeste gave him an amused look. "Would that make you our comic relief side character?"

Harry and Hermione burst into laughter as Ron gaped at her. "Oi!"

Draco's Bitterness & Plans

Not everyone was enjoying the group's friendship. Draco Malfoy had been watching from a distance, his frustration growing with each passing day.

He had tried to humiliate them. He had tried to make fun of Ron's family. He had tried to assert his superiority.

But Atharv always outclassed him effortlessly—not by crude insults, but by sheer intelligence, confidence, and an undeniable presence that Draco hated to admit he envied.

Celeste, too, carried herself with such unshakable grace that even Draco found himself momentarily speechless around her.

And then there was Harry Potter. The Boy Who Lived.

Draco clenched his fists. He had been raised to believe he was better than most people. But here? Atharv, Celeste, and Harry were making him seem less than what he thought he was.

That had to change.

As he watched them from across the courtyard, his mind was already forming a plan.

I'll prove I'm better than them. I'll make sure everyone knows it.

And with that thought, he smirked to himself. It was only a matter of time.

Celeste & Atharv's Private Moment

The Gryffindor common room was warm and quiet, the flickering fire casting a golden glow across the space. Most students had already retired for the night, leaving only a few scattered figures lost in their own thoughts.

Near the fireplace, on a plush red couch, Celeste and Atharv sat together, wrapped in the comfort of each other's presence. Celeste leaned against him, her golden-blonde hair cascading like silk over his shoulder, the sapphire-blue of her eyes reflecting the fire's glow.

Atharv had his arm draped around her, his crimson-red eyes staring thoughtfully at the flames. The warmth of the fire was nothing compared to the warmth of her beside him.

For a while, neither of them spoke. They didn't need to. Silence between them was never empty—it was filled with understanding, with the unspoken certainty that they belonged by each other's side.

Celeste sighed softly, tilting her head up to look at him. "It's only been a few days, and yet it feels like everything is changing."

Atharv glanced down at her, his lips curving into a faint smile. "Change is inevitable, mon amour," he said, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face. "But that doesn't mean we have to fear it."

She hummed in agreement but still frowned slightly. "We've already caught so much attention—some admiring, some envious. What if… what if things become difficult?"

Atharv's expression softened. He took her hand in his, intertwining their fingers. "Then we face it together, just as we always have."

Celeste smiled at that. Of course, he would say something like that. There was never any doubt in his voice, no hesitation in his belief that they would always stand strong.

She squeezed his hand. "Promise me?"

He turned to face her fully now, his crimson eyes meeting her sapphire ones. "I promise," he said with absolute certainty. "No matter what happens—no matter who stands against us—we will always be together."

A gentle, contented silence followed.

Then, as if drawn by an invisible force, Celeste lifted herself slightly, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. It was brief, yet filled with the depth of all the love they shared.

Atharv smiled against her lips before kissing her back, just as tenderly.

When they pulled away, Celeste rested her head against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

The world could change. Hogwarts could be unpredictable. Challenges could arise.

But none of it mattered.

Because as long as they had each other, nothing could shake them.