Hogwarts: Rise of the Dark Legacy

"Where have you been? Why didn't we see you just now?"

Harry and Ron approached Toby, their faces bright with curiosity.

Toby, a cool smile playing on his lips, gestured casually toward the bustling street behind them. "We were exploring some of the smaller shops, checking out things off the beaten path. And you? Judging by all those bags, it looks like you've been on a shopping spree yourselves."

Harry shifted the weight of his parcels, his face flushing slightly. "I… might've gone a little overboard," he admitted. "I couldn't help it. When you've gone your whole life unable to afford anything, it's hard not to splurge a bit now that you finally can."

Ron's eyes flicked to the bulging bags in Harry's arms. A glimmer of envy passed over his features, but he quickly masked it. "Lucky you," he muttered, his tone good-natured but wistful. "Mum barely gave me enough for a couple of chocolate frogs. Still, at least you're generous with sharing."

Harry grinned. "Of course! What's the fun in having sweets if you can't enjoy them with friends?"

Their conversation was cut short as the trio joined the stream of students congregating near the Three Broomsticks. The usually cheerful inn seemed almost somber under the slate-gray sky, its warm lights failing to dispel the uneasy atmosphere.

At the front of the gathering, Professors McGonagall, Snape, and Sprout stood side by side, their expressions unusually grave. Whispers rippled through the crowd of students.

"What do you think's going on?" Ron murmured, craning his neck to get a better look at the professors.

"No idea," Harry replied, his brow furrowed. "But McGonagall looks like she's about to lecture us into next year."

Before they could speculate further, McGonagall's sharp voice rang out. "Prefects! Count the students from your respective houses. First-years, step forward."

The prefects snapped into action, herding their younger charges and taking headcounts. Meanwhile, Toby, Harry, and Ron joined the throng of first-years inching toward McGonagall.

The professor, clutching a scroll, began calling out names. "Hannah Abbott!"

"Here!"

"Ernie Macmillan!"

"Present!"

"Hermione Granger!"

There was no response. McGonagall's sharp eyes scanned the crowd, her voice taking on an edge. "Miss Granger? Is Miss Granger present?"

Toby hesitated, glancing at Harry and Ron before raising his hand. "Professor McGonagall!"

Her gaze snapped to him. "Yes, Mr. Regbo?"

"Miss Granger and Mr. Longbottom didn't come to Hogsmeade. They thought it best to wait back at the station."

McGonagall's stern expression softened slightly. "Well, it's good to know we have some students who still follow the rules. Thank you for informing me, Mr. Regbo."

Around them, the other first-years shifted awkwardly, heads bowing in shame. The professor's remark stung, a subtle reminder of their own rule-breaking.

"Are the counts complete?" McGonagall called to the other professors.

Snape and Sprout approached her, their expressions grim. "All accounted for," Snape confirmed tersely.

McGonagall exhaled, her shoulders relaxing slightly. She surveyed the sea of young faces before her but refrained from delivering the scolding they clearly expected. Instead, she issued a brisk command: "Everyone, make your way to Hogsmeade Station. No dawdling."

The students exchanged puzzled glances but obeyed, their chatter subdued as they began the walk to the station.

Harry leaned closer to Toby as they walked. "Do you think the professors know something's up?"

Toby shook his head, keeping his voice low. "As long as no one talks, they won't have any proof. Just act normal."

Ron snorted. "What about Hermione? She looked ready to report us earlier."

"Don't worry about her," Toby said with a small smile. "Hermione might be sharp-tongued, but she knows when to keep quiet."

The trek to the station was unnervingly quiet. Even the most boisterous students seemed subdued, their unease growing as the sky darkened. By the time they reached Hogsmeade Station, a heavy silence had settled over the group.

Dumbledore stood waiting on the platform, his serene yet commanding presence a stark contrast to the anxious professors flanking him.

McGonagall stepped forward. "Albus, the students are all accounted for. Is there something we should know?"

Dumbledore's expression was calm, but there was a flicker of something more—concern, perhaps? "Filius and I examined the Hogwarts Express. The train itself is intact, but…" He paused, his voice dropping slightly. "It appears someone used an extraordinary amount of magical energy to interfere with its speed."

"Who would do such a thing?" McGonagall demanded, her tone sharp.

"Unclear," Dumbledore replied. "It's not the work of any student. Such power is exceedingly rare, beyond what most adult wizards could manage. This was deliberate."

Snape's eyes narrowed. "Then it's an attack."

"Possibly," Dumbledore said. "But for now, we must prioritize the safety of the students. Everyone is to board the train immediately. The professors and I will ensure there are no further incidents."

The students filed onto the train in tense silence, their earlier excitement long forgotten. Inside the compartment, Harry turned to Toby.

"Do you think Dumbledore suspects us?"

Toby met his gaze evenly. "Dumbledore always knows more than he lets on. But we're safe for now. Just keep your head down and your mouth shut."

As the train lurched forward, a low rumble of thunder rolled across the sky. Rain began to fall, streaking the windows and muting the outside world. The Hogwarts Express carried them back toward the castle, but unease lingered in the air.

For some, it was simply the weather. For others, it was the weight of a question they dared not ask aloud: Who could wield such power—and why?