Chapter Text
Melarion Fujiwara stood before the brick pillar marked 9¾, clutching her luggage and the instructions she'd memorized. "Run straight through the wall," her brother Felix had said with an encouraging grin over the Floo call. "And don't stop halfway."
Her parents weren’t with her—they were busy, as always. They'd apologized profusely for not accompanying her, but Mel wasn’t too bothered. She was actually excited to finally do something on her own. Back home, her parents never let her go anywhere alone. She always had a driver to take her to school, and at least one bodyguard whenever she went out. Still, her first solo trip being through a Portkey—a smelly old fish tin—dampened her excitement. Portkeys were her least favorite way to travel, and the lingering headache from the journey wasn’t helping.
“Just do it,” she muttered, tightening her grip on her trolley. She dashed forward, nerves prickling at the thought of what might happen if she veered slightly off course. What if I crash? Or end up in the middle of nowhere? Her mind raced, and she squeezed her eyes shut as she charged forward.
Then, her ears were filled with the sound of chatter and a train engine. Slowly, she opened her eyes, relieved to see the bustling platform and the scarlet Hogwarts Express waiting to depart. She let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. Imagine crashing into the wall. How embarrassing.
The platform teemed with families hugging, chatting, and saying tearful goodbyes. With no one to wave her off, Mel decided to board early, dragging her luggage through the narrow corridors. At least her brother had promised to visit her soon. She doubted Hogwarts allowed family visits, but Felix never broke a promise, so it must be tied to some event.
The compartments were mostly empty since it was still early. Mel kept walking, half-hoping someone might invite her to sit with them and half wanting to settle into an empty compartment to enjoy her new adventure alone.
Passing one compartment, her gaze caught on a boy with bright blonde, almost silver hair. His sharp features and icy expression gave him an air of loneliness that intrigued her. Their eyes met for a moment before he shot her a glare. Mel’s heart skipped a beat. Embarrassed, she quickly moved on, sensing he might say something about her staring.
She settled into the next empty compartment and pulled out a book to read. A quiet student joined her later, offering only a polite “Hello” and asking, “Are you nervous?” before lapsing into silence. Mel dove into the cringey romance novel she had picked up at a gift shop just before arriving at 9¾. It wasn’t great, but it held her attention until the train started moving.
From her window, she watched parents waving from the platform shrink into dots, while students who had been poking their heads out to shout goodbyes slowly settled down. The air filled with the rhythmic chugging of the train, the occasional blast of wind, and the fresh scent of fields rolling by.
This is the first time Mel has been away from her family. She had spent the last two years begging her parents to let her attend Hogwarts, doing everything she could to prove how much better it would be for her. She argued that it would make her happier, and she listed reason after reason, often repeating herself. It wasn’t until she completed her second year at the prestigious Mahoutokoro school—and showed signs of being genuinely unhappy due to the harsh ranking system—that her parents finally relented and agreed to let her transfer.
Ironically, despite their overprotective nature back home, where they rarely let her do anything alone, they allowed her to embark on this long journey to a foreign country by herself.
When boredom crept in, Mel treated herself to a chocolate frog from the trolley. The kind witch patiently explained the candies, letting Mel take her time choosing.
The chocolate, however, was far too sugary for her taste, and the card inside featured Garrick Ollivander, a famous wandmaker. Back in Japan, wandmakers would visit your home to draw inspiration and craft a wand they believed suited you best. Since the Fujiwara family was loosely related to the royal family, their wandmaker had been the royal craftsman himself.
He chose wood from the pink dappled willow tree outside Fel’s room, a symbol of luck, rebirth, and transformation. For the core, he let her pick between mermaid hair (wet and seaweed-scented), dragon whisker (boring-looking), and pegasus feather. Mel had chosen the feather for its soft, cloud-like texture and faint pink tip. The design and measurements were up to the wandmaker, and the result was stunning: a smooth wooden handle capped with an amethyst gem and a lingering sweet, fruity scent.
As she studied the chocolate frog card, she wondered if Ollivander’s wands, with their different cores, had distinctly different characteristics compared to the wands back home.
The excitement of the journey began to fade, and Mel found herself growing drowsy. Leaning her head against the window, lulled by the gentle rhythm of the train, she drifted off to sleep.
---
When the train finally screeched to a halt, Mel quickly changed into her robes and followed the crowd of first-years gathering near a towering man she soon learned was Hagrid. His booming voice was warm and friendly as he directed the students toward the boats. Spotting Mel among the younger students, Hagrid gave her a kind smile and greeted her personally. He explained that since it was her first year at Hogwarts, she’d need to join the first-years until she was sorted into her house.
The ride across the lake was breathtaking. The reflection of the grand castle shimmered in the dark waters, and Mel felt a flutter of excitement. As they approached, the warm glow of the castle filled her with an unexpected wave of happiness. This place seems nice, she thought. And the people I’ve met so far aren’t as uptight as those back home.
They followed Professor McGonagall, a firm, sturdy woman in a green robe, through the hallways to the Great Hall. The hall was overwhelming: floating candles lit the room, the ceiling was enchanted to look like the night sky, and rows of long tables were filled with students who turned to watch the newcomers.
Mel stood tall among the much younger first-years, her black hair and elegant posture making her stand out. She felt every pair of eyes on her, or at least, it felt that way. Her nerves tightened, but she forced herself to maintain her composure, keeping her back straight and her expression calm.
She had read all about the Hogwarts houses beforehand to prepare. Slytherin seemed like the best fit, but doubts still crept in. What if the hat thinks I don’t belong anywhere? Her mind flashed back to Mahoutokoro, where students were ranked by magical ability—a system she despised. Hogwarts seemed better, but the sorting process still unsettled her.
When her name was called, Mel’s heart pounded. She took a step forward and promptly tripped. A few students chuckled, and her cheeks burned with embarrassment. Quickly, she sat on the stool and shoved the Sorting Hat onto her head, hoping to block out the laughter.
The Sorting Hat smelled old, like an ancient, familiar attic, but not unpleasant. It drooped over her head, covering her eyes and muffling the sounds around her.
“Ah, I see,” the Hat said warmly in her mind. “Quite a mix of qualities in you. Strong-willed but thoughtful, ambitious yet free-spirited. And oh—your grandfather was quite the wizard! A pleasure to meet his granddaughter.”
Mel blinked in surprise. “You knew my grandfather?” she whispered internally.
“Indeed. But we’re here to sort you, aren’t we?” the Hat chuckled. “Slytherin suits you perfectly, my dear. You’ll do well there.”
Mel’s heart steadied. “Really?”
“You have all the makings of a great Slytherin,” the Hat assured her. Then, with a loud voice, it declared, “SLYTHERIN!”
The Slytherin table erupted in applause. Mel removed the hat, took a deep breath, and rose, determined to appear confident. The warmth of the applause was comforting. Slytherins might have a reputation for being mean, but they seem protective and welcoming of their own.
As she approached the table, her nerves spiked when she couldn’t immediately find an open seat. Near the end of the table, her eyes landed on the silver-haired boy from the train. Sitting beside him was a beautiful girl with a fierce expression, while across from them sat a tall, dark-skinned one with a poised demeanor. He caught her gaze, smiled, and nudged the person next to him to scoot over.
“Here,” he said warmly, standing to make room.
Mel returned his smile and murmured, “Thank you,” as she slid into the seat between him and the quieter person beside her.
The boy introduced himself as Blaise Zabini, exuding effortless charm. On her other side, Theodore Nott gave a polite nod but seemed more reserved. The silver-haired one, Draco Malfoy, remained distant but was polite enough to introduce himself. Meanwhile, Pansy Parkinson offered a guarded greeting, her possessive gaze toward Draco making her intentions clear.
When Mel introduced herself, she kept her words brief, intentionally avoiding mention of her family’s status to avoid sounding pompous. Blaise, however, smirked and teased, “Pure-blood royalty and already humble. You’re going to confuse everyone here.”
Pansy didn’t laugh.
---
The feast was magnificent. The variety of food was almost overwhelming, though not all of it was new to Mel. Her parents had taken her traveling enough that exotic dishes rarely surprised her anymore, but the sheer abundance and skillful preparation made her inner foodie swoon. She sampled as much as she could while maintaining an air of elegance and dignity, though her greedier instincts begged her to pile her plate high.
The conversation at the Slytherin table was lively, and to her surprise, Blaise ensured she never felt left out. The group, all fourth-years and pure bloods , had a reputation for being the year’s most notorious clique, though Mel noticed they’d toned it down considerably. How did I end up here? she mused. Still, the atmosphere was unexpectedly enjoyable, and she wondered if perhaps she had a bit of a mischievous streak herself.
By the time dessert appeared, Mel was already stuffed, but the sight of the four ice cream flavors was too tempting. She carefully tried a tiny scoop of each, savoring the creamy sweetness, before finally conceding defeat to her full stomach.
As the feast ended, Professor Dumbledore rose to make an announcement. His voice carried effortlessly across the Great Hall as he revealed that this year, Hogwarts would host the Triwizard Tournament.
Mel’s mind immediately wandered to her older brother, Felix. He worked freelance, taking on all sorts of random jobs that fit his varied skill set, so it wasn’t uncommon for her to be unsure about what he was doing or where he was working at any given moment. Over the summer, he had mentioned being tied up with a “big event,” but true to form, he hadn’t shared any details.
Could this be it? she wondered, excitement tempered by uncertainty. How else could someone visit Hogwarts during the school year, if not for something like this? She hadn’t seen Felix in almost a year, and while she couldn’t be sure, the possibility of reuniting with him, especially while so far from home, filled her with hope.
Their relationship was close despite the 12-year age gap. Felix’s overprotective nature had always made her feel safe, and he often kept his promise to check in on her via Floo calls when she was at home. He did promise to keep contacting her here too.
After the announcements, Mel said goodbye to her new companions and followed the Slytherin prefect toward the dormitories. As they walked through the dimly lit halls, Blaise caught up with her, leaned closer, as if to say something, but she didn’t notice, too dazed from the feast and lost in her own thoughts.
Once inside the Slytherin common room, she barely registered its beauty. The green-and-silver décor, the flickering light from the underwater windows, and the cozy atmosphere all blurred as she made her way to her dormitory.
Mel practically collapsed onto her bed, her full stomach and exhaustion pulling her into a deep sleep. She didn’t spare a glance at her roommates or even think about introducing herself. The night would have to wait until tomorrow—tonight, the warmth of her new home and the satisfaction of a good meal lulled her into peaceful dreams.