As the train hummed steadily toward London, Y/n Potter flipped through a photo album she had received from her Durmstrang friends as a farewell gift. Each moving image—a snapshot of snowball fights and shared laughter—pulled her back to moments that felt both distant and vivid. Her lips curved into a soft smile, though her eyes shimmered with the sting of bittersweet memory.
She promised herself she’d send an owl to them the instant she arrived at Hogwarts, a tether to a world she was leaving behind.
Transferring schools was never simple. Saying goodbye to the friends who had become family was never easy. But as a Potter—especially one who remained a secret to most—the challenges added layers of complexity. She was the sister everyone whispered about but never truly knew, the sister absent when tragedy first struck their family, and thus overlooked by the public eye.
Y/n had preferred it that way. The spotlight had always felt too bright, too exposing. That was one reason she’d chosen Durmstrang over Hogwarts initially, taking her place far from the British wizarding world's center. When Hagrid had explained their shared magic blood, she’d quietly slipped away to study elsewhere, carving out her own path.
Nearly two years had passed since Y/n last saw Harry. She had sent him an owl announcing her transfer to Hogwarts, but no reply ever arrived. Considering the distance between their schools, she reasoned her letter might have been lost—twice—by her faithful owl, Tucker. Hope was a fragile thing, but it was all she had.
Harry wasn’t the only reason she had made this leap. Honestly, it just felt right—an inexplicable pull that her closest friends had called madness but respected nonetheless. They knew how important it was to follow one's instincts, even when the path ahead was uncertain.
Her thoughts drifted back to them, and she let out a quiet sigh.
✧·ﾟ: *✧·ﾟ:*✧
Stepping onto the platform at King’s Cross for the first time, Y/n found herself staring between Platforms 9 and 10, unsure where to begin. The magical instructions to access Platform 9¾ sounded simple, but the reality was another matter entirely. Fifteen minutes passed as she waited, eyes fixed on the brick wall to see if anyone would appear. Muggle travelers brushed past, oblivious, their presence only heightening her impatience.
Accepting she was early, Y/n glanced at Tucker perched atop her trolley, took a steadying breath, and sprinted at the barrier with everything she had. She felt the familiar rush as the wall gave way beneath her, and relief washed over her as she emerged on the other side.
The Hogwarts Express loomed dark and gleaming, its engine purring softly as it came to a slow stop. Around her, scattered groups of families clustered in warm embraces, their laughter and tears mingling in the crisp autumn air. The sight stirred a tender ache in Y/n’s chest—a reflection of the excitement and nerves she remembered so well from her first days at Durmstrang.
She had arrived early on purpose, determined to avoid the crush of students and the possibility of an awkward encounter with Harry before she was ready. Especially since she wasn’t sure if he even knew she was coming.
Being the first to board the train, Y/n found the quiet compartment at the very end and settled beside the window. The countryside beyond was said to be breathtaking, and despite the overcast sky, she was eager to witness it for herself.
Not long after her arrival, the platform began to swell with students, parents, and siblings. The air buzzed with excited chatter and last-minute farewells. Y/n watched the bustling scene unfold like a film she was seeing for the first time, her heart straining to catch a glimpse of familiar tousled brown hair or those unmistakable round glasses.
She knew she needed to find Harry before the sorting ceremony—being sorted in front of the entire school without connecting first would be unbearable. But without a plan, she resolved to wait until the train started moving and the initial chaos subsided before searching for him, praying he wasn’t among the students in the open carriages.
The scenery outside the window captivated her attention. Verdant fields stretched out, dotted with trees swaying gently in the rain-soaked breeze, the landscape a shifting tapestry of green and gray. It was impossible to look away, even as the storm clouds thickened.
Just as the train began to pull away from the station, two girls slipped quietly into the compartment. Their presence shattered the solitude Y/n had briefly enjoyed, but neither spoke a word, and she didn’t mind. Silence suited her just fine. If they knew she was a Potter, things might have been very different.
A sudden pang tightened her chest at the thought of Harry. The fact that they shared the same train yet still hadn’t crossed paths gnawed at her. Their letters had dwindled over the years—months of silence stretching between them—and seeing him again might only complicate things. She hadn’t even mentioned him to anyone at Durmstrang; the weight of his name felt too heavy.
Determined to find him, she rose, glancing once more through the window. But the idyllic landscape had given way to a bleak, stormy scene. The rain fell harder, and the sky darkened ominously, casting shadows along the tracks. Suddenly, the train jerked to an unexpected halt in the middle of the line.
“We can’t be here yet,” whispered one of the girls, her voice edged with worry.
Y/n’s eyes caught a flicker of movement outside. “Did you see that?” she murmured, pointing toward the window. A thin veil of frost began creeping across the glass, and an icy chill swept through the compartment.
Then, as suddenly as it had come, the cold receded. The lights flickered back on, warmth returned, and the train resumed its journey. “Merlin’s Beard,” Y/n muttered under her breath, shaken but resolute.
The girls introduced themselves—River Talpin, blonde and composed, and Emilie Feast, with fiery red hair and a hesitant smile. When Y/n mentioned her name, their expressions shifted, surprise flickering in their eyes. “Potter?” River echoed, exchanging a glance with Emilie. Y/n offered a brief smile, deciding it was best not to delve deeper just yet.
“I’ll explain later,” she said softly. “But I need to find the other Potter first.”
The train slowed and soon came to a gentle stop. The moment had arrived. Steeling herself, Y/n gathered her belongings and stepped onto the platform, nerves tightening her limbs.
The station was a maelstrom of movement—students shuffling off the train, parents embracing children, siblings weaving through the crowd. Identifying Harry among the sea of emerald and silver robes was like searching for a single star in the night sky. She spun in place, her gaze darting desperately, but found no sign of him.
Her heart raced as the platform began to empty. She trailed the last of the group toward the castle’s entrance, unwilling to let the chance slip away. Her only hope was to ask around.
Summoning courage, she approached a trio of students gathered nearby. “Have any of you seen Harry Potter?” she asked, her voice steady despite the flutter in her chest.
The group froze, turning to face her. The boy at their center sneered. “Potter? Lucky for me, I haven’t. Heard he fainted—probably off to Madam Pomfrey’s right now.” His laugh was sharp, meant to sting.
A wave of unease replaced Y/n’s moment of confidence. Was Harry truly unwell? But then the sneer twisted into derision. It wasn’t concern; it was contempt.
“Watch it,” Y/n warned, stepping forward. Her eyes locked with the boy’s, and she tilted her chin up defiantly. He took a moment to appraise her, a slow smirk curling his lips.
“What is he? Your boyfriend?” one of the others jeered, their laughter echoing around her.
Her hand twitched toward her wand, the urge to retaliate fierce. But she paused, realizing she had already spent nearly twenty minutes in this standoff—longer than she usually tolerated.
Swallowing her frustration, she let her wand stay holstered and stepped past them, brushing the blonde boy’s shoulder with hers deliberately. A silent message that she wouldn’t be pushed around, not today.
It was a small comfort to know Harry had made enemies, just as she had. Maybe, in some ways, they were more alike than she had thought.
With the castle looming ahead, Y/n took a deep breath and pushed open the heavy doors, ready to face whatever awaited her inside.