"YOU'RE A COWARD!"

His voice was strained, his body tense. His training clothes were covered in a mixture of sweat and mud, the thick wool practically suffocating him despite the cool breeze of the Vermont evening. Sugar maple trees waved around them, their shaking branches shooting bits of sap into the evening air.

There was a whistling around the pair, offering Ben a momentary distraction. He wasn't sure if it was the movement of the trees or perhaps a roaming band of Doxy, the fairy-like creatures always nesting around his parent's home. It gave him a brief moment of clarity.

It wasn't enough.

The older man stood mere feet away from him, his wand drawn. His eyes were tired, and the way his blonde hair was pushed back, peppered with bits of grey, showed his true exhaustion.

"Enough," his voice broke, his hand shaking, "Must you always test me, Ben? You're a child! Just a child!"

Ben charged forward, the wand between his fingertips shaking. The Blackthorn was smooth, and perhaps another taunt of his true character.

"I am not a child," Ben hissed, the last word spat out with true venom, "And if you think I am so much like him, then treat me the same!"

The man merely shook his head, hesitantly dropping his arm and thus, his wand. "I have tried so hard with you," He whispered, his voice hushed, "And I am ever fearful that I have failed."

"JUST DO IT!" Ben practically sobbed, aware of the hot tears dripping down his cheeks, "FIGHT ME!"

He thought the man stepped forward, but it was truthfully hard to tell with the tears blinding his vision. "Ben—" the man whispered, the voice coming closer, "Please don't—"

"YOU'RE A COWARD!" Ben screamed, throwing a hex at the older man, "You claim to be the savior of the wizarding world, but you are NOTHING!"

His hex was deflected with little more than a flick of the other man's wand. "You are just a child, Ben!"

Ben sent another hex his way. "A child, am I?" He growled, sparks of red shooting from his wand, charging towards the other man, "Yet you accuse a child of the dark arts? Of being kissed by the darkness because of the wand that chose him? Because of the blood running through his veins?"

"Dammit, Ben!" He had finally succeeded in getting the older man to crack, "Why do you want to fight? Why do you want this?"

Despite his youth, his wand movements were elegant, skilled, even poised. But they were no match to the man across from him. Every red spark that flew from the Blackthorn was deflected into the damp grass of the Vermont landscape.

"Because if I am so much like him," Ben spat out, continuing the fierce movements of his wand, "Then fight me like you fought him."

The fuse broke.

A streak of purple flew towards Ben, despite his wand at the ready, knocking him off his feet. His body felt like it was being torn apart—burning from the inside out. His shaking hand managed to catch the tail end of the spark, a dazzling gold that knocked the air out of him.

He heard the man scream.

But he couldn't focus. He couldn't evaluate the damage he had done—the agony he may have inflicted.

Not with the excruciating pain running through every inch of his body. He couldn't see. He couldn't move.

He just felt pain.

"Uncle," Ben cried out, before the world went black.

He woke up with a start, his heart hammering in his chest. He sat up in his bed, staring at the barren walls of the dingy inn he had been placed in. His only company, as with most of his life, was the sleek black cat curled into his side.

Ben was certain it was the only warmth given to him since he was perhaps two years young. He ran a careful hand through the black fur, concerned about waking Starkiller.

He was alone, in an unfamiliar country, his entire life having been ripped from his hands. Unsure of what to do, he allowed his eyes to roam to the cracked window of his room, his gaze catching the few stars in the London sky.

It was nothing compared to what he was used to. Not the dark skies of his childhood home in Vermont, enough stars in the sky that even the No-Maj rarely needed electricity. Not the twinkling stars that shined above Ilvermorny, a soothing presence when he forever felt alone.

Could he truly call either of those places home? No. But they were the closest to belonging he had.

Until they were taken away.

Nothing in Ben's life was permanent.

Except the solitude.

And the darkness.

-x-

Her smile could probably be described as smug.

To be truthful, Rey couldn't help it. Not when every last item she owned was tucked neatly into her second-hand trunk, purchased at age 11 by a Hogwarts grant provided to the school's most in need students. Her faithful grey cat, Dee, was tucked happily into her coat, seemingly relieved to be escaping too.

Getting permission to keep Dee was already hectic enough—Hogwarts had to forge letters about her cat being an emotional support animal or some bollocks like that. Then again, as the cat nuzzled into her cheek, she figured there was some truth to it.

Dee was the only family she had.

Rey was only two blocks away from the disgusting public housing facility that she had called home while in foster care for the past eleven years, her heavy trunk being dragged behind her. Unlike her fellow Hogwarts students, Rey had figured out how to transfigure her trunk to have wheels, effectively allowing the massive piece of luggage to work as a suitcase. It was helpful since she didn't have the money, nor the space, for a cart.

In fact, Rey had approximately 62 pounds to her name. She was lucky enough to earn the money by cat sitting for an elderly woman during her final summer in the muggle world. Hogwarts provided a grant that paid for all of her school goods—even enough, thankfully, for a broom—but there wasn't much left over.

Sure, Rose was always kind enough to offer to buy her a trolley treat or a cone from Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour, but Rey hated taking advantage of someone else's charity.

Then again, she wasn't entirely sure how 62 pounds would cover an entire school year of sweets and prank goods.

But it was her fault, really. Usually, during her summers in the muggle world, Rey would set up shop to make extra money. She'd fix bicycles, cat sit, walk dogs, clean windows—really anything. She didn't make a ton, but it always provided enough for her yearly indulgences in chocolate frogs and goods from Zonko's Joke Shop.

However, this summer, she was far too distracted by reading up on what life after Hogwarts would be—of the wizarding world she had only been a part of since the tender age of eleven. Her summer nights were spent reading anything she could get her hands on—her beloved copy of Magical Hieroglyphs and Logograms, the childhood fairy tales found in The Tales of Beedle the Bard, and her most favorite, Quidditch Through the Ages.

Reading, coupled with her almost constant letter writing to her dearest friends spread across the isles, meant minimal time to make any money.

Rey knew that after a quick trip to Gringotts for muggle money conversion, she'd have not even 13 galleons to her name for the entirety of her seventh year.

As she got to the tube station and checked the balance on her Oyster card, she groaned.

Make that 58 pounds.

She wanted to be annoyed—wanted to hate watching her precious money be spent on the smelly tube instead of on trolley treats and pranks galore—but she was too happy to care. This was the last time she'd have to ride the tube if she was lucky.

Because if Rey got her way, as soon as she disappeared within Platform 9 and ¾, she wouldn't be returning to the muggle world.

She was leaving that life behind.

It wasn't like there was anything left for her there, anyways.

-x-

"How are you?" There was a pause, as spoonfuls of porridge disappeared into the man's mouth, "Truthfully?"

Ben eyed the man across from him with mild disdain. Chewbacca, or Chewie as most friends called him, was a close family friend—one of the rare people Ben had grown to trust over the years. Despite the man's massive stature (and surely half-giant blood), he was kind and nurturing, always willing to offer an ear if someone needed advice.

Given the tension Ben shared with his father growing up, he typically confided in Chewie.

Until, of course, the man moved to be the Groundskeeper at Hogwarts after Ben's thirteenth birthday. He still saw him occasionally, usually during the summer, when Chewie would spend at least a month in their guest cottage in Vermont.

But truthfully, despite the appalling way Chewie ate, Ben was relieved to see his hairy face.

He expected that his Uncle would be sent for him.

No words could possibly describe his relief when Chewie entered the dingy inn, instead.

"How am I?" Ben repeated, glaring at the bowl of porridge in front of him, "You know they sent me on No-Maj transportation? I had to sit on an airplane! For 7 hours!" He shuttered, reliving the memory, "It was practically a fate worse than death."

Chewie snorted and grabbed a handful of bread. He ripped off a hearty piece and swallowed it whole, his eyes never leaving Ben.

"They're trying to protect you, kid." He explained gently, before stuffing another piece of bread into his mouth, "The last thing you need is The Daily Prophet or The New York Ghost catching wind of a trans-Atlantic portkey right as Hogwarts gets back in session."

Ben shifted uncomfortably, staring at his forgotten bowl. "They've lied, you know? They've told the public that I'm taking some sort of educational sabbatical. Finishing my studies independently and then traveling the world." He scoffed and pushed away the bowl, his face hot with anger, "Do they really think the press is that stupid? That they won't realize that the son of Leia Organa and Han Solo is now at Hogwarts?"

Chewie hummed, as if in agreement, before pulling Ben's abandoned bowl towards him. He ate a spoonful, his face thoughtful. "You need to give your parents some credit, kid. Your face hasn't been photographed since you were five years old. No one is going to know."

"Oh, really? I know even the British No-Maj lost their grand revolution years ago, but surely the wizards can't possibly be that stupid too?" Ben inquired smugly, looking around the inn in clear disdain, "I'm sure they'll recognize a last name like Solo."

The snort Chewie let out was almost as humorous as his eye roll. "Well, we've all discussed it and we agree. You'll go by a different name while at Hogwarts."

Ben tensed, his dark eyes narrowing. "Who is 'we'?"

The pair stared at each other, the enchanted piano and the rambunctious guests of the inn not enough to distract them.

"You're 17, kid. Don't be such a handful."

Ben growled and threw up his hands. "No! I deserve to know who exactly is participating in these lengthy discussions about my life!"

Chewie groaned and scratched at his beard. "It was one conversation over Floo. Just your parents, myself, Headmaster Kenobi and…"

The name didn't need to be said. Ben crossed his arms and looked away. "I see. Anything else I should be aware of?"

The burly man grumbled. "They do gotta sort you, kid."

The news clearly took him by surprise. Ben sputtered, nearly knocking over his glass of pumpkin juice. "I have to be sorted? Are you crazy? I'm going in as a seventh year!"

Chewie shrugged and finished the last bit of bread. "Sorry, kid. That's the protocol. Everyone at Hogwarts needs to be in a house."

"But I have a house!" Ben exclaimed, his ears surely burning red, "I'm a Horned Serpent!"

"At Ilvermorny, sure. Hogwarts has its own houses, kid." Chewie finished his tea and hummed, a smile growing on his lips, "Your mom and uncle were both Gryffindors. Your grandmother was a Hufflepuff, I believe."

Ben's lips twisted in anger. He looked away, instead focusing on a pair of quarreling house elves. "Yes, well, I like my grandfather was a Horned Serpent. He should have fought harder for mother to go to Ilvermorny—maybe then she'd have better taste in food! At least dad had the better sense to keep me in America."

Chewie chuckled, watching Ben with amused eyes, "You'll have to cool the Anti-British thing, kid. That won't bode well with your new, very British professors and classmates."

With a huff, Ben glanced back at Chewie. "I'm not anti-British. I just happened to enjoy my life at home. At Ilvermorny."

"Did you?"

Ben glanced down at his hands, still scarred from his most recent accident, "I had no choice, did I?"

Chewie frowned. He nibbled on his lips, clearly struggling to say what he really wanted to say. But one look at the confused young boy—because he was still, just a boy—got him going.

"If you ever need anyone to talk to…"

He tried to hide his sneer, he truly did, but Ben couldn't help it. "I don't need to talk to anyone. Don't let mother brainwash you."

"She's been nothing but honest, kid. Talked about the potions. The accident. How you spent nearly a month at St. Jouge's."

Ben shook his head, his hands shaking. "Did she now? Well she deserves mother of the year now, doesn't she? And what's her solution to all of this?" He choked out, hating that he was near tears, "Taking me away from the only place I found solace and fucking sending me to this dump!"

His last exclamation drew some curious looks from the inn patrons, especially a pair of frazzled house elves. Ben muttered to himself before jumping to his feet.

"Shouldn't we be going?" He asked, his voice dark, "Isn't there some mythical train I need to catch?"

Chewie remained sitting, watching the boy with worried eyes. "We decided it would be best if you didn't arrive with the rest of the students."

Ben blinked, unbelieving of his words. "I see. So first I am forced to endure the Hogwarts experience, and then I don't even get to live it?"

"You'd get a lot of questions you won't want to answer on the train, kid. Best to let the first years get sorted, let all the students get their jitters out, and you'll come around on Wednesday."

His shoulders sunk in defeat. "I see. Will you stay with me until then?"

Chewie offered a soft smile and a nod. "Of course, kid. I'm not going anywhere."

"You'd be the first to," Ben whispered, practically to himself.

The server came around, a rather hideous looking wizard wearing tattered robes, and held out the bill. Used to providing for himself, Ben reached into his robes and pulled out a handful of Dragots, the silver coins glimmering on the dirty table.

With one look at the coins, Chewie laughed.

"You've got a lot to learn, kid. First, let's get you some galleons. Then, let's teach you about tea—it seems even with your mother's British education, she didn't prepare you."

Ben sighed and tucked the money back into his robes.

Even his money didn't belong here.

What else was new?

-x-

Rey rushed along the thin passageways of the Hogwarts Express, Dee in her arms. She was following the sounds of familiar laughs, of high-pitched squeals, of home.

In fact, when she forced the door of the compartment open, she nearly burst into tears.

It was a flurry of movement after that—kisses with Rose, an intense hug with Finn, even an awkwardly timed high five with Poe. By the time she dropped onto the plush seat, she was smiling so hard she thought her cheeks might explode.

Once she adjusted, Dee content in her lap, her gaze landed on Finn and Rose. The pair of them already clad in their Hufflepuff robes wasn't anything new. But the glimmering badges on their chests certainly were.

"OH MERLIN!" Rey squealed, her eyes shifting between the badges, "You lot are sneaky! How could you not write about this?" She leaned forward and swatted playfully at both of them, "My best friends as Head Boy and Girl? This is unreal!"

Finn blushed under her attention, offering a soft shrug. "We thought it would be fun surprising you."

Rose grinned and nodded excitedly, taking a moment to straighten out her badge. "Did you know that it's the first time in three hundred years that Hogwarts has had a Hufflepuff Head Girl and Boy?"

From across them, Poe rolled his eyes. "You've only mentioned it about a dozen times, Rose."

The petite girl scoffed and eyed Poe with mild annoyance, clearly unimpressed by the way his uniform shirt hung loose from his trousers, "You're just bitter you weren't picked, Poe! You practically campaigned."

Rey pursed her lips and glanced at Poe, looking over his open Gryffindor robe. "Are you not a Prefect?" As she asked, she dug into her own pocket, retrieving her Prefect badge. It was her third year in the coveted role.

"Why does everyone keep asking—" As soon as his eyes met her badge, he scoffed. "Are you kidding me? How did you lot all get badges and I didn't?"

Finn couldn't help but snort. "Well, last year you did get caught snogging during your rounds."

Poe narrowed his eyes. "That was once."

"Twice, actually."

"Twice?"

"Once with Zorii and once with Tallie," Rose jumped in, filling in the gaps for Finn.

Poe rubbed at his eyes. "Right, right. Forgot about Tallie."

"You forgot about her? Didn't you two like…date for two weeks?" Rey asked this time, glancing at her house mate with revulsion.

The Gryffindor groaned. "We did not date. We…you know."

The other three occupants of the train carriage shuttered, understanding his meaning. A brief period of silence filled the cabin, before the ever-talkative Rose began again, this time talking about the juicy Hogwarts gossip.

"I was able to confirm that Professor Skywalker is returning to Hogwarts," She explained, looking between her friends with a grin, "This is the first time in fifty years that we've had the same Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor for more than a year!"

Poe snorted and leaned back in his chair, unimpressed by the news. "Don't count your blessings yet. I won't celebrate his return until we're literally back in the classroom and he's teaching us a lesson. A lot can happen between now and the first school bell."

Rey sighed and glanced out the window. "Ever the optimist, Poe."

But she wouldn't let his snark get her down. The Scottish countryside was far too hypnotizing. The green beyond, the misty skies, the rolling hills…

It was what dreams were made of. Just sitting in that lumpy seat, Dee in her arms, with Poe, Rose, and Finn bickering about Quidditch around her was the most at home she had ever felt in her life.

Not to mention what her seventh year would bring her academically. She wasn't entirely sure what she wanted to do after school—being an Auror had always been her dream, and under Professor Skywalker's instruction last year, she felt even closer to it—but she still wasn't completely sure.

She was confident, however, that with her incredible Professors, making decisions about her future would be easy.

And with the friends beside her, she was adamant that most of all, she'd have fun.

-x-

"Where do you reckon Chewbacca is?" Poe whispered, leaning over to Rey about midway through the Sorting Hat ceremony. There were at least another thirty first years excitedly waiting to be sorted into a house of their own. While the ceremony used to bring Rey great joy—not to mention happy memories of her own sorting so many years ago—she was admittedly tired and ready to get out of the Great Hall.

Besides, she had eaten her fill. Four plates full, to be approximate. Enough to even make Poe gag.

After watching the Sorting Hat scream a proud "RAVENCLAW!" to the full room, Rey glanced over to the table of Professors. When she noticed the empty chair, where Chewbacca, their Groundskeeper usually sat, she registered Poe's comment.

"I dunno," She whispered in response, carefully taking note of the rest of the Professors, especially Skywalker's sour face, "Not sure. Why do you think Skywalker looks like he just smelled a Dungbomb?"

Poe snorted at her comment, earning a few nasty glares from a pair of over-achieving fourth years. He glanced back at Rey, thoroughly amused. "I dunno. But I'm sure you'll find out."

Rey raised an eyebrow and glanced at the boy beside her. "And what do you mean by that?"

"I mean you're a brown noser, Rey. Especially for Skywalker. Of course, you'll find out if he has a bloody ingrown toenail or ate a bad batch of stew."

She scoffed and crossed her arms. "I am not a brown noser! Believe me, I have no interest in knowing what's got Skywalker in such bad spirits."

Poe rolled his eyes and ate another forkful of potatoes. "Ahuh. If you say so, Niima."

-x-

As it turned out, Poe was right. Rey would be the one to find out. But she most certainly wasn't a brown noser! She just… cared about Professor Skywalker. She felt a kindred spirit with him. Sure, he wasn't a muggle-born orphan like she was, but the man was raised split between America and Britain. He understood her feelings of not quite belonging in either world.

She was concerned about him, and given the Defense Against the Dark Arts' curse, she couldn't help but want to make sure he was okay.

But, when she approached him as the Great Hall was emptying, the man assured her he was fine, his friendly blue eyes twinkling under the enchanted ceiling.

"I'm fine, Rey. Just a bit tired," He explained, looking put together in his royal blue robes, "You must know how exhausting it is listening to the Sorting Hat ramble on."

Rey giggled and nodded. She surely did. "Of course, sir. I just wanted to say hello then. Did you have a good summer?"

At her question, he appeared solemn, but offered her a curt nod. "I did, thank you. And did you?"

"As good as I can have back in the muggle world! I'm just thrilled to be back here."

Professor Skywalker smiled. "Good, I am glad to hear that. I truly hope you have a wonderful final year here, Rey."

"As do I! I just hope it's not too eventful—I'm sure studying for my N.E.W.T.S will be exhausting enough!"

At her comment, his lips curled. "Eventful? No, no, I surely hope not."

Rey hummed, thinking about what the rest of the year would bring. "It's been a rather relaxed time here, has it not? Minus the troll in the dungeon my third year. I sure hope it stays that way!"

Professor Skywalker looked mildly ill. "As do I, Rey. As do I."

"Anything I should keep my eyes open for?" She joked, an excited smile across her lips.

But before he could answer, Finn's boisterous voice was heard, yelling for prefects to begin taking their houses to their quarters. Rey smiled and offered Professor Skywalker a goodnight, before joining her other Gryffindor prefects.

In the midst of her departure, she could have sworn she heard her Professor mutter something about the "Prodigal Son" but wrangling a bunch of first years drew her attention elsewhere.

-x-

"Is it true what they say?" a nervous first year asked, glancing around the Gryffindor common room, "Is Professor Skywalker really Lord Vader's son? Did he really help defeat Emperor Palpatine?"

Rey froze, her hands still awkwardly waving to the bulletin board that students hung up club notices, artwork, and other random advertisements on. She was in the middle of giving her 'Welcome to Gryffindor' speech when the first year, who's name Rey had already forgotten, got a bit excited by the mention of their Head of House, Luke Skywalker.

She cleared her throat, considering her response. "Erm, yes. Well. But he doesn't like to speak about it, mind you, so don't go blabbering on during lessons, ok?"

The first years nodded eagerly, taking her words to heart. But, the first one to speak, the one that Rey now remembered was called George, wasn't deterred. "Why does he sound American if he went to Hogwarts? Doesn't he have a twin sister? Did she help defeat Palpatine too?"

With a sigh, she leaned against the tattered wallpaper of the common room, wondering why the hard questions always ended up at her feet. She wasn't sure if it was simply bad luck, or if the children just saw her speaking to Professor Skywalker after the Welcome Feast and decided that she was the best bet to get answers to their many questions.

"Well, Professor Skywalker's father was American. He went to Hogwarts but spent his summers in America. So…accents are finnicky things, aren't they?"

One unnamed first year shot his hand up excitedly. "My mum's Irish but my dad's from Yorkshire! My nanny can never understand me!"

Rey couldn't help but giggle. "Er, yeah! Exactly. He may sound American, but don't you worry—he has a penchant for tea!" She cleared her throat and thought back to the other questions. "As for his sister, yes, I believe she works for MACUSA in America. But I dunno exactly. But you're right—she helped lead an army that fought against Emperor Palpatine."

George pursed his lips. "And Lord Vader. It's mad that he defeated his own father!"

"Well, aren't you just a little expert on the war?" Rey couldn't help her snark—it was late, she was tired, and these kids were too inquisitive for their own good. "Tell you what, if you have questions in the morning, why don't you ask Poe Dameron, ok? He loves chatting about Professor Skywalker."

The children let out hums of understanding before disappearing into their bedrooms. Finally by herself, she too slunk into her bedroom of six years, eying her roommates—Jannah, Jessika, and Kaydel—with mild curiosity.

Instead of unpacking, or already fast asleep, the girls were gathered on Jannah's bed, whispering furiously while nibbling on sweets and playing with each other's hair. Rey eyed them again before digging into her trunk, looking for her pajamas.

"Why are you lot still up?" She asked curiously, noticing their red cheeks, "Did one of you sneak fire whiskey in again?"

Kaydel snorted and laid back, humming excitedly. "Nope! But guess what I did?"

"More like who!" Jessika let out with a laugh, earning a shove from Kaydel.

Rey glanced over, now extremely curious. "Well?"

"Beau and I snuck into a broom closet after the Welcome Back Feast and well…" She sighed dramatically, her cheeks matching the red of her nightgown, "Let's just say I used my witch charms on him."

"She gave him a blowjob." Jannah supplied, with a little less finesse, "In case you were wondering."

Rey blinked, carefully buttoning up her pajamas. "Oh," She managed, for some reason finding herself blushing, "And how was…that?"

"Bloody amazing!" Kaydel shrieked, before popping a few sherbet lemons into her mouth, "He also used his fingers on me."

Jessika hummed from beside the blonde, nodding along. "I remember my first fingering in the broom closet. Right after my Potions O.W.L! Poe may be an arse, but he knows what he's doing!"

From beside the other two, Jannah flipped on her stomach and grabbed a handful of the hard candy. "Never in a broom closet, but with my muggle neighbor this summer. He was bloody fit," She hummed and laughed, "We got a bit carried away if I'm being honest."

As Rey buckled up her trunk, it took her a few moments to register the silence, as well as the looks of her three roommates. Once she had the massive case on the ground, she sat on the edge of her bed and raised an eyebrow.

"Yes?" She asked, welcoming Dee into her lap, "Why are you lot looking at me like that?"

Kaydel began to braid her blonde locks. "It's your turn to share."

Rey blinked, unsure what her friend meant. "Share what?"

"Your first time messing around," Jessika explained, glancing at her other roommates, "Like we just did."

With a gulp, Rey realized that was what her roommates had been doing while she unpacked. Kaydel and Beau, Jess and Poe, and Jannah and some unnamed muggle boy. All of them had messed around—they knew what it felt like to be kissed, to be touched, to fall apart under someone else's watchful touch and gaze.

Rey didn't.

"I haven't," She finally explained, before climbing into her bed. She had considered lying, but realized that as a Gryffindor, she couldn't be scared about being herself. Instead, she simply told it like it was. "Messed around, that is."

The girls nodded carefully, albeit clearly surprised. "Really?" Kaydel asked, staring at Rey, "How?"

"What do you mean how?" Rey laughed, pulling the blankets over her, "I just haven't."

"Not with Finn?" Jess asked, chewing on the hard candies, "I thought he fancied you!"

Rey sighed and rubbed at her eyes. "Until fifth year."

"Right. Not Poe?" Jess followed up with, uncaring about her previous relationship with the guy.

To be polite, Rey held her gag in. "No."

"Well, tell us about your first snog at least!" Jannah pushed, leading the other girls to nod excitedly.

As Rey took in their excited, curious faces, she wondered just how…far behind she was. Truthfully, despite six years at Hogwarts, she hadn't really fancied anyone. During her second year, she had a minor crush on a seventh year, but even now, she knew her infatuation was more about his wand abilities than him as a person.

Aside from that, she had zero experience with romance. Finn had fancied her. Rose had fancied Finn. Poe had fancied, well, everyone.

But Rey?

She felt left behind. Especially as she stared at her three roommates. All three of them had at least been touched by a boy, and the closest thing Rey had to a kiss was when Dee licked her face at night.

"I haven't," Rey practically whispered, her answer not nearly as brave as her previous one.

The girls glanced at each other, before carefully beginning to clean up their makeshift get together. "Oh," Jannah began, helping Jess to collect the loose hard candies, "Well, that's alright! We'll help change that this year!"

Rey offered Jannah a quiet thanks before muttering a silencing charm on her bed. As soon as she pulled the curtains shut and held Dee to her chest, she began to cry.

She wasn't quite sure why.

-x-

"You are a disappointment."

The voice was cruel, yet soft. Familiar, yet foreign.

"Yet you are my only option."

A flutter of black robes ruffled through the air.

Then, agony.

Rey bolted up in her bed, gasping for air. Dee shifted beside her, stretching her silver paws, eying Rey with concern. Sometimes, no matter how stupid it sounded, Rey thought Dee understood her on a deeper level than any old house cat. She liked to think that maybe Dee was a half-kneazle, or just particularly smart, but deep down, she knew the real answer.

She was lonely.

This cat was her companion.

With a sniffle, she hugged the fur beast to her chest, trying to shake away the voices of her dreams. "They're back," She whispered, ignoring the way her heart hammered in her chest, "The dreams."

Dee purred and nuzzled into Rey, the noise providing an odd comfort.

As if telling her to go back to sleep and forget all about the words whispered to her in the dark of the night.

So, she did.

She had seven N.E.W.T. level classes in the morning she had to be up and ready for.

-x-

By the time Wednesday afternoon rolled around, Rey was happily settled into her seventh-year schedule. Identical to her sixth-year classes, she was enrolled in N.E.W.T. level Defense Against the Dark Arts, Transfiguration, Charms, Potions, Study of Ancient Ruins, Astronomy, and Care of Magical Creatures.

Part of her did miss taking Herbology, but as a child of the city, she wasn't attuned to caring for plants.

Especially those of the magical variety.

At any rate, her first two and half days of classes had gone swimmingly. Professor Skywalker, despite still being in a sour mood, breezed through a review lesson of the final unit of their sixth year, graciously answering questions from students who lost a bit of their learnings over the summer. Professor Yoda, despite his tendency to talk in riddles, gave a fascinating lecture on the rune for the number seven, the only unidentifiable magical creature within the number runes. Professor Holdo had already assigned a blank star chart for her astronomy homework.

She couldn't begin to describe how excited she was.

Even for homework.

But, while things had gone smoothly to that point, she could tell something was out of the ordinary the moment she skipped into the Great Hall, her schoolbag dancing on her shoulder. For one, the massive room was normally bustling with noise, students screaming and laughing over plates of lunch, catching up with friends before running off to their next class.

Today, however, it was practically silent, sans the sounds of forks and knives scrapping against plates.

And the whispering.

So much whispering.

Rey hurried over to the same table she had eaten lunch at for all six years at Hogwarts and slid along the bench until she sat beside Finn. He was huddled with Rose and Poe. Jannah joined with fellow Gryffindor Snap Wexley, but they seemed more focused on the homework they were frantically finishing than whatever juicy gossip everyone was surely talking about.

"—I'm just telling you what Jessika told me! She heard from a third-year who heard from a fifth-year, who heard from Professor Ackbar!" Rose exclaimed, before taking a moment to eat a spoonful of beef casserole, "So don't get an attitude with me Poe Dameron!"

Rey couldn't help but snort as she began to fill her own plate, making sure to take an extra helping roast potatoes to accompany her own serving of beef casserole. She was practically salivating, especially when her eyes landed on the dessert selection of jam doughnuts and chocolate eclairs.

She'd definitely have one of each.

Through a forkful of potatoes, she finally tuned back into the conversation around her.

"—could mean anything!" Poe shot back before sipping his pumpkin juice, all while holding up a finger to indicate he wasn't done speaking, "It could just be Chewbacca coming back for all we know!"

Rose shook her head aggressively. "No! I told you. It wasn't just the boats!"

Once Rey had finished at least half her plate, she was willing to get involved. "What's this about the boats?" She inquired, following her words with a mouthful of bread roll, "Someone saw them out?"

The boats were a Hogwarts tradition—it was how first year students were taken to and from Hogwarts. The rest of the students traveled by carriage, until their final ride away from Hogwarts as a graduating seventh year, when they'd once again travel by water.

Rey was looking forward to riding the boats again when she finished at Hogwarts. But that experience meant school being done and she wasn't ready for that yet. Not really.

At any rate, it was bizarre if the boats were seen, especially since the first years were already at Hogwarts, settled and sorted.

Rose took in a massive gulp of air, before beginning her barrage of gossip.

"SO!" She practically gasped out, "All anyone can talk about is that one of the boats was spotted crossing the Black Lake at dawn. Which is, weird, right? Well, it gets weirder," Rose paused for dramatic effect, filling the gap with a fluff of her hair, "Kaydel had to deliver a package to Headmaster Kenobi during Herbology and she said the Sorting Hat wasn't sitting on its shelf in his office!"

She paused again, taking a moment to swallow a mouthful of tea, before continuing. "And didn't you notice Professor Yoda pull out fourteen guides for our in-class project tomorrow? We only have thirteen N.E.W.T. level students!"

Rose seemed to be finish with her gossip, waiting patiently for Rey to respond. While Rey had been listening, truthfully, her attention was currently on whether to start with the jelly doughnut or the chocolate éclair.

"Rey!" Rose shrieked, waving her arms, "Well?"

Knowing she'd eat both anyways, Rey grabbed a doughnut and looked at Rose. "What?"

"Don't you have anything to say? The gossip is all so juicy!"

Rey took a bite and chewed thoughtfully. "I don't get the big deal. Why does any of this matter?"

Poe sighed and crossed his arms. "Rose here, like half the student body, seems to think we have a new student."

"I don't think, Poe, I know! Come on! The evidence is right in front of you!" Rose exclaimed, looking to Rey for backup, "Don't you agree, Rey?"

With another bite of doughnut, Rey shrugged. "I dunno, Rose. It all seems kind of circumstantial at best. If it was at dawn, and therefore dark, whoever thought they saw the boats could have seen the giant squid. Or Poe is right and it was Chewbacca returning to school." She took another bite and hummed, "Now that I think about it, I swear I saw smoke coming from the chimney of his hut today!"

Rose grumbled and crossed her arms, clearly not liking her version of events being called into questions. "Fine. What about the sorting hat? The extra Ancient Runes guide?"

Rey shrugged. "Maybe the sorting hat was being cleaned or something. And Professor Yoda is like 900 years old. He probably just grabbed an extra one by accident."

"Wow! Niima and I agree for once!" Poe exclaimed, a cocky grin growing across his face, "This is one for the record books."

Thankfully, with a chocolate éclair in her hands, Rey had already tuned out Poe's babbling. She took a bite of the doughy, chocolatey dessert, humming happily. "I mean, I guess we'll see. But when's the last time Hogwarts has had a student start outside of the first day of term?"

This time, Finn piped in. "Maybe never."

Rey shrugged and licked the last bits of chocolate off her fingers. "Well, there you go! A new student? That would be mad. There's no way."

But Rose hummed, undeterred. "We'll see."

Poe snorted. "Yeah, I guess we will."