The faint whistle of steam rolled past the window, curling into thin tendrils that shimred against the morning sun.
Cassius Snape watched it lazily, one elbow propped on the edge of the window fra, his fingers absently tapping a steady rhythm against the seat.
The platform outside was beginning to hum with life—voices, laughter, and the clatter of trunks on cobblestone.
The board was assembling.
He could see them now—children with polished shoes and proud parents, pureblood families flaunting old crests stitched into their robes, half-bloods looking uncertainly between the platforms, and wide-eyed Muggle-borns clinging to letters as if they might vanish.
Each one a potential variable.
Each one a thread in the tapestry he was about to unravel.
Cassius's gaze swept the crowd again.
His target list remained clear in his mind—Hermione Granger, Neville Longbottom, and Daphne Greengrass.
Three pieces, three anchors for the foundation he intended to build at Hogwarts as his core group, beyond the synthetic muggle-borns he'd seeded into the school.
Together, they represented intelligence, potential, and influence—each raw, unshaped, but full of promise.
He would bring them under his banner before Dumbledore, before destiny itself, could decide who they should beco.
His fingers brushed the edge of his other holster, and his wand stirred faintly within it.
The spell he was about to cast was simple, but elegant—a Confundus Charm, fine-tuned not to confuse but to nudge.
A whisper of thought, a montary flicker of direction.
They would believe it their own choice to seek him out.
A ntal push.
Nothing more, like a dumbed down basic form of the Imperius curse, one of the unforgiveables.
He waited until the platform grew dense, the perfect camouflage of noise and motion surrounding him.
Then, as the minute hand on the platform clock ticked past 9:45, he found the first of them.
Hermione Granger appeared like the dawn itself—hair wild, eyes alight with excitent and nervous energy, a book clutched protectively to her chest as she tugged her parents toward the scarlet train.
Cassius's lips curved faintly.
"Target one."
His right hand lifted slightly, palm turned upward, the faint pulse of power gathering invisibly.
"Confundus."
No light.
No spark.
Just intent—streamlined, silent, executed through the conduit of his off-hand wand.
The charm slipped through the air unseen, brushing across Hermione's mind like a feather.
Her steps slowed.
A tiny crease ford between her brows.
Then she blinked, looked toward the train's midsection—and smiled faintly, as if deciding sothing entirely on her own.
Cassius's reflection in the glass smirked back at him.
"One."
He turned his gaze next toward the far end of the platform.
There, a round-faced boy struggled to keep hold of a runaway toad, while his parents trailing behind him were alight with smiles and tears having lived to see this day in person.
Neville Longbottom.
Cassius's expression softened slightly.
The boy was nervous, awkward, and terrified of disappointing everyone around him—a boy destined to grow into bravery, but painfully uncertain of himself now.
A perfect candidate for early guidance.
Cassius lifted his left hand this ti, letting the air hum faintly around him.
"Confundus."
The charm whispered outward, threading through the noise and motion.
Neville, mid-sprint after his toad, paused just before reaching the far compartnt, blinked, and then turned toward the middle of the train instead.
He frowned thoughtfully—as if struck by the sudden notion that he'd be more comfortable that way.
Cassius watched the movent unfold with clinical precision.
"Two."
The third ca minutes later, walking with the effortless poise that only the old families ever managed.
Daphne Greengrass—pale hair in soft curls, flanked by her younger sister and a mother who moved like a queen surveying lesser beings.
They were surrounded by other pureblood children—Nott, Vaisey, and a young Parkinson—already laughing amongst themselves.
Cassius observed the girl quietly.
She was reserved, thoughtful.
The eyes of soone who already watched and asured, not unlike himself.
A Slytherin through and through.
He raised his hand again, but slower this ti.
This charm required precision—any heavier touch, and her mother might notice, or worse magical defenses worn on her person could preven the spell from activating and informing them of the 'attack'.
The spell slipped from his fingers, invisible and perfect.
"Confundus."
Daphne's steps hesitated for a fraction of a second, a tiny flicker of curiosity lighting her expression.
She turned her head slightly toward the train's center, her mother too distracted by social niceties to see the shift.
A gentle nudge, just enough to make her consider boarding elsewhere.
Cassius exhaled softly.
"Three."
Daphne split off from her entourage claiming she needed to do sothing, before entering the chaotic crowd and disappeared from sight all the while moving towards Cassius compartnt.
Cassius sat back, folding his arms, a faint glint of satisfaction in his eyes.
The pieces were moving exactly as he'd planned.
It didn't take long.
First to arrive was Hermione, stepping tentatively down the corridor, scanning compartnts until her eyes caught sight of him through the glass.
She hesitated—only for a second—then smiled and slid the door open.
"Excuse ," she said, voice polite but eager. "Is this seat taken?"
Cassius offered a small, courteous smile. "Not at all. Please."
Hermione entered, setting her books neatly on the seat across from him.
"Thank you! I was hoping to find sowhere quiet. The front carriages are already so loud."
Cassius inclined his head. "Then you've chosen well."
He said nothing more, allowing the comfortable silence to build.
He wanted her to speak first—to establish the pattern that would define their future dynamic.
Before long, the door slid open again.
Neville stumbled in, his trunk in hand with his toad finally captured.
"Oh—um—sorry! I didn't an to interrupt," he stamred, eyes darting nervously between them. "Everywhere else seems full…"
"Then you're welco here," Cassius said smoothly, gesturing to the seat beside himself allowing Hermione her own side.
"Th-thank you." Neville's shoulders relaxed slightly as he entered, looking to place his toad down before lugging up his trunk to the racks overhead.
Monts later, the last piece of his puzzle appeared.
Daphne Greengrass, cool and composed even at eleven, paused at the compartnt door.
Her eyes swept across the trio inside—her brow arching faintly when they landed on Cassius.
"This one's not full?" she asked.
"Not yet," Cassius replied with a faint grin. "But it's filling fast."
Her lips twitched, almost a smile, and she slid inside, setting her small trunk down.
"Allow ," Cassius said lightly, raising his hand.
The three trunks lifted smoothly into the rack, guided by invisible force.
No incantation.
No visible wand.
Just effortless control.
All three of his companions stared in quiet awe, not just at seeing his spellcraft but at just how he had perford it.
"You—didn't even—" Hermione began, voice breathless.
Cassius rely offered a modest shrug.
"Practice."
He didn't elaborate.
Let them draw their own conclusions.
Let the image of casual genius take root.
The train would be setting off within another couple dozen minutes at exactly 11 O'clock.
Opposite him, Hermione was already digging into her book no doubt looking for entries about wandless spellcasting, Neville nervously feeding his toad a fly, and Daphne quietly observing all three of them with an expression Cassius recognized—calculated curiosity.
Perfect.
The compartnt was balanced: intellect, potential, and cunning.
Just as he intended.
With a silent gesture he cast a pair of spells the first to lock the compartnt door, and the second to mask the very door itself so that other students would not be bothered to even try opening the door at all.
His compartnt was full and the train had yet to set off, Cassius now could only grin in his head wondering about how his half-twin was doing, and whether he would get to keep his date with destiny aboard this locomotive?
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