They reached the car. Ron threw open the driver's side and Harry clambered in beside him.
Aster paused before getting in, eyes lingering on the sky overhead. He didn't belong in the air. But he didn't belong anywhere else, either.
Nyx fluttered silently down onto his shoulder, her shape tiny and unnoticed.
The car lurched to life. As it rose into the air, the city below shrank, the train tracks a silver thread guiding their path. The boys followed it from the sky, invisible to the Muggles, mostly.
At first, it was exhilarating. The wind in their hair, the gleam of the Hogwarts Express far below, the feeling of freedom.
But then the car began to sputter.
The engine wheezed.
"Ron—!" Harry shouted, gripping the dashboard as the car jolted violently.
"I know!" Ron cried. "I think she's tired! Or she's angry!"
Aster said nothing. His hands clenched the edges of the back seat. His eyes were calm, too calm, as if he'd already accepted something was about to go very wrong.
The car dropped suddenly, dipped, then jolted back up.
"I hate this thing!" Harry groaned.
Then, a flash of green in the distance. The castle. They were nearly there.
But the car had other plans.
The car wasn't moving, like the calm before the storm.
They braced for impact.
It gave one final shudder and dropped, nose-first, right into—
Whack!
The Whomping Willow.
Branches cracked across the windshield. The tree groaned like a beast awakened from a nightmare.
Wooden limbs swung with crushing force.
The Whomping Willow's limbs lashed at the car like furious serpents.
The windows rattled. A crack split the windshield.
"Alohomora," Aster said sharply, his voice cold and exact.
He pointed his wand at the door. Nothing.
No light. No click. No response.
He stared down at the wand in his gloved hand. For a brief moment, something flickered in his eyes, something almost like disbelief. But not fear. Just a growing, silent certainty that he was not who he used to be.
He turned his gaze on Ron. "Try it."
Ron nodded, raising his wand, but before the incantation could leave his mouth, the wand gave a pitiful hiss and snapped, splintering at the core.
"Oh no— my wand!"
Harry didn't wait. "Alohomora!" he shouted.
The door on his side creaked, then clicked open.
But Aster was already moving.
Without a word, he threw his weight against his door. It groaned in protest, hinges straining. He shoved again, calmly, with frightening control. The hinges screamed before they yielded, as if the metal recognized something in him it dared not refuse..
This time, it gave way with a metallic crack.
The door swung open violently.
Aster stepped out, landing with a thud that jarred up his legs, but he didn't stumble. He didn't even blink. His coat flared around him. Nyx, small as ever, darted from the broken seat and landed on the grass beside him, silent.
Ron blinked behind him. "Did he just break it?"
Harry didn't answer. He was already scrambling out, tugging Ron with him as a branch shattered the roof where they'd been seconds before.
The three of them tumbled into the dirt, coughing from the dust, the air still thrumming with the Willow's fury.
Aster stood again, already watching the tree with unreadable eyes. His expression was still. Cold. Not tense, not afraid, just aware, like a statue waiting for the storm to end.
Nyx fluttered back onto his shoulder.
Harry looked at him, uncertain. "Are you okay?"
Aster didn't answer. He adjusted one torn glove slowly, as though that question didn't really apply to him anymore.
The car, groaning with something like disdain, peeled off into the trees and vanished from sight.
They walked through the courtyard, the distant chatter of first years filling the air, but Aster moved apart, his steps measured and quiet, like he belonged to a different world.
Harry and Ron exchanged glances but didn't press him. For once, the unspoken weight between them was too heavy to break.
At the castle entrance, Professor Snape stood waiting, his dark eyes sharp and unreadable.
"Detention for all three of you!" Snape's dark eyes locked onto them, icy and accusing. "Endangering yourselves and others with reckless behavior. Mr. Black," his gaze lingered on Aster, "I expect better control from someone of your… pedigree."
Aster's jaw clenched, but he said nothing.
Harry stepped forward. "We didn't mean any harm, Professor. The car—"
"Silence," Snape snapped, raising his wand as if to summon punishment on the spot.
Before the spell left his wand, a calm yet firm voice echoed through the courtyard.
"Severus," Dumbledore's presence seemed to fill the space, his eyes twinkling but serious. "Perhaps today is not the day to heap more burdens on these young shoulders."
Snape hesitated, lowering his wand but not his glare.
Dumbledore's gaze softened as it landed on Aster. "The path they walk is not an easy one, and it calls for patience, not punishment. Especially when some battles are fought in silence."
Aster's posture eased slightly, a flicker of something unspoken passing between him and the headmaster.
"Now, get inside and eat. Tomorrow will be difficult," Dumbledore said, his voice calm but carrying weight.
Inside the Great Hall, Ron and Harry walked on either side of Aster.
A boy raised a camera and snapped a picture of him. Aster's eyes briefly shifted to a piercing blue before returning to normal, though no one seemed to notice.
"I'm Colin Creevey. You're Aster, right?" the boy asked. Aster nodded and resumed walking.
Colin then took a picture of Harry as well. Harry nodded in acknowledgment but seemed to silently tell Colin he didn't like having his picture taken without permission.
Aster, on the other hand, suddenly realized he'd never had many pictures taken. He found himself wanting a copy of Colin's photo.
Aster spotted Hermione. She looked worried, eyes searching his face for any sign of what he was feeling. He gave her a brief nod before turning toward the Slytherin table.
He slid into the seat beside Pansy Parkinson, who gave a subtle nod toward Hermione, a quiet gesture of reassurance.
Pansy leaned closer and lowered her voice. "Draco's been going on about something... the Chamber of Secrets. He says it's connected to Salazar Slytherin."
Aster's interest flickered, but he kept his expression guarded. "Chamber of Secrets?"
Pansy shrugged, clearly uncertain. "That's all I've heard. He says it's a secret place, but no one really knows what it is or what it does."
She hesitated, as if debating whether to say more, then stopped herself.
After a few days, Aster was making his way to the Great Hall. The corridors were unusually quiet, shadows stretching long in the flickering torchlight. Suddenly, a low, chilling hiss cut through the silence. His steps slowed, curiosity pulling him toward the sound as it echoed softly nearby.
He followed the noise through a darkened corridor, heart quickening, senses sharpening. At the end, he spotted Harry, standing frozen, eyes fixed on something just out of sight.
"Hey, Har—" Aster began, but before he could finish, a sudden rush of students spilled out of the Great Hall, their faces tight with fear and shock.
Whispers rose like a wave, soft but frantic. "They killed Mrs. Norris... She was found like that... Can it be true?"
Eyes darted between Harry, Aster, and the limp form of Mrs. Norris, sprawled lifeless near the corridor.
Then someone in the crowd pointed upward, voice trembling as they read aloud,"
The Chamber of Secrets has been opened. Enemies of the Heir... beware."
A cold silence fell, broken only by the hushed gasps and uneasy whispers." They killed Mrs. Norris!" someone repeated, voice rising with panic.
Before the chaos could swell, Pansy Parkinson's sharp voice cut through, firm and defensive, "Shut up! You don't know that for sure!"
Aster glanced at her and gave a subtle nod, a silent acknowledgment that made Pansy's tense expression soften, relief flickering in her eyes.
The sudden pounding of heavy footsteps approached, Filch, breathless, face pale and drawn."Those filthy little pests," he growled, voice breaking as he shook his head in disbelief, "They... they killed Mrs. Norris."
The crowd's murmurs turned to fearful murmurs and pointed accusations, eyes darting like hawks.
Then Snape appeared, tall and imposing, his dark eyes scanning the gathering crowd. He folded his arms, voice cutting through the tension like a blade."So... do any of you have an excuse for this?"
Aster stepped forward, calm but firm. "Harry and I arrived at the same time. We only just saw Mrs. Norris like that."
Harry nodded in agreement, still pale but steady.
Snape's lips curled into a sarcastic smile. "How fortunate—two students, arriving from opposite ends, and yet… meeting at the exact scene of the crime."
Both boys nodded again, but the weight of Snape's words hung heavy.
They all knew it was far too much coincidence to ignore.