Hp: The Outcast

As the days turned into weeks, and those weeks into months, the seasons shifted, carrying with them the inevitable changes that marked the passage of time. Change, the only true constant in life, was a lesson Jon had come to understand early on. It wasn't a lesson that was easily learned, but it was one that was necessary for growth. And Jon, though young, had embraced it wholeheartedly. There was no other way to become who he was meant to be.

Now, sitting alone in a compartment on the Hogwarts Express, waiting for his friends to arrive, Jon reflected on the summer that had passed. Over the course of a few short months, he had traveled across three continents, visited countless cities, and become something of a sensation—famous, adored, and, unexpectedly, cherished by two people he had never anticipated. But such was the way of time; it had a funny way of working itself out.

Jon had been in a complicated relationship with Daphne and Victoria, a bond that had bloomed unexpectedly but was slowly becoming something more permanent. It wasn't the first time such things had happened, but it was one that few people understood. Those who did, however, didn't need any explanations. They made it work, somehow, despite the complexities that life threw their way. Jon liked to describe it later as a "summer love story," the kind people would see in movies—a little too idealized to be truly realistic, but still something people longed for. Of course, not everyone understood it, but Jon didn't mind.

His appearance had changed dramatically since the summer began. Before leaving home, he had altered his look. His raven-black hair had been replaced by long platinum curls that cascaded down his back. His amber eyes now mirrored his mother's, and his nose was slightly longer and sharper, just enough to make him resemble his old self without being recognized by anyone who might cross his path. It had become second nature, this constant changing of his appearance. Jon had grown accustomed to wearing disguises whenever he ventured out in public, but even now, as he stared out the window, watching the scenery of the countryside blur past, he couldn't help but feel a little strange in his new form.

Jon held a small, worn leather book in his hands. The pages were filled with brief, cryptic entries, each one marked with a date and a time. The latest entry was from today. He read the words quietly to himself, his lips curling into a faint smile.

"So, we finally set sail," he murmured under his breath, the words as much for himself as for the world outside.

The compartment door slid open, breaking his reverie. Jon looked up to see Daphne standing in the doorway. She was wearing her usual attire—black skirt, white top, and black stockings—and her hair was tied in a neat ponytail. She was always the first to arrive, and today was no different.

"Astoria's with Luna in the next cabin," Daphne said, stepping inside. She closed the door behind her and took a seat beside Jon, leaning in to kiss him lightly on the lips. "Good morning."

"Morning," Jon replied warmly. He couldn't help but smile, his usual calm demeanor softening around her presence.

Daphne noticed the book in his hands and raised an eyebrow. "Anything new with the 'expedition'?"

Jon shrugged nonchalantly. "They're docked in Karachi."

"Karachi…" Daphne repeated. "How long do you think it'll take them to get there?"

Jon didn't hesitate. "I don't know. Muggle boats are faster, but I doubt this one's typical."

Daphne tilted her head, curiosity flickering in her eyes. "You really think it's worth chasing, though? I mean, it could all be for nothing."

Jon turned his gaze toward her, his expression steady. "Grindelwald was certain about it," he said simply. "And so am I. This could be something big."

Daphne's fingers brushed over Jon's hand, her touch light but warm. She gave him a playful look. "Did you see the documentary about you? 'Father of WPOP.'"

Jon groaned, his expression immediately darkening. "No, and I never will. Those people ruined half my trip."

"Oh, don't be so dramatic," Daphne teased, nudging him lightly with her shoulder. "It was good—well, except for the part with Fleur."

Jon raised an eyebrow. "Fleur?"

Daphne sighed. "She's nice and all, but you never know what's really going through her head. She could be thinking one thing and doing another, and then suddenly—bam!—something completely unexpected happens, and you're left there wondering what just hit you."

Jon chuckled softly, his lips curling into a smile. "Oh, really? Please, continue. I'm listening."

Daphne shot him a knowing look. "Are you?"

Jon nodded, pretending to be more serious than he was. Daphne's voice picked up in pace as she launched into another animated rant, her words tumbling over each other with ease. Jon didn't care what she was talking about. He just enjoyed listening to her—he enjoyed the way her words seemed to come to life, how her once-icy persona had melted away to reveal the passionate, talkative person she'd become.

At some point during the conversation, neither of them noticed the subtle shift in their positions. Jon was now lying back against the window, his body relaxed, while Daphne rested comfortably between his arms. Her head was nestled on his chest, her breath steady and calm.

The silence that settled over them was interrupted by a familiar voice.

"God, you two… this is a public space."

Jon blinked and looked up to see Ted standing in the doorway, a bemused expression on his face. Both he and Daphne looked up, then simultaneously groaned.

"Hey, Ted," they said in unison, grinning sheepishly.

Ted rolled his eyes, his lips curling into a smirk. "Seriously? At least close the blinds if you're going to get cozy like this."

"Stop hating on them," came another voice from behind Ted. Tracey Davis had entered the compartment, rolling her eyes at his comment. "They look adorable."

Both Jon and Daphne shot her a grateful smile. Ted sighed dramatically and sat down, crossing his arms. "I'm not hating, I'm just saying… if someone sees you two like this, there could be consequences."

Tracey waved off his concerns. "Relax, Ted. They're fine."

The group continued chatting as the train rumbled along, the sound of their conversation mingling with the rhythmic clattering of the wheels on the tracks. When the topic of electives came up, Tracey was the first to speak. "I'm taking Divination and Care of Magical Creatures. What about you guys?"

"Ted?" Jon asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Arithmancy and Ancient Runes," Ted replied without hesitation.

Daphne followed, "Arithmancy and Divination."

All eyes turned to Jon.

"Arithmancy, Ancient Runes, Care of Magical Creatures, and maybe some Alchemy," Jon said with a small smirk.

Ted's jaw nearly dropped. "Alchemy? That's a sixth-year elective!"

Jon simply nodded, his expression unreadable. "Yeah, well, Dumbledore's agreed to teach me a little."

"What?!" Ted and Tracey said in unison. "Why?"

Jon shrugged casually. "Part of the deal," he muttered, a playful glint in his eyes.

Ted groaned. "That's not fair."

"I never said it was," Jon replied smugly.

Just then, the door opened again, and a familiar face entered—Victoria, she looked at the two and said, "Sit properly." following behind he a tall figure clad in a sharp black suit. The sight of him made the entire compartment fall silent.

"Room for one more?" Sirius Black asked, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

Jon's heart skipped a beat. He had no idea why Sirius Black was here, but something about the man's presence sent a ripple of unease through him.

Victoria slipped into the compartment and took a seat next to Daphne. Sirius looked at Jon with a smile that was both welcoming and challenging.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Hogwarts Express chugged steadily along the tracks, the sun shining brightly through the windows. Most of the students were excited to return to Hogwarts, but as always, there were a few exceptions. Inside the compartment where Jon and his friends were seated, the air was thick with uncomfortable tension. While Sirius had joined them, Harry and his friends had tagged along, making the space feel a little cramped.

Jon continued to stare at Sirius. At first, it hadn't bothered him, but now the unbroken silence was starting to feel a little strange. Sirius glanced over at Victoria, who gave him a wry smile.

"He's just thinking of something," she said, her eyes sharp as she shot Jon a glare. Daphne, noticing Jon's growing discomfort, nudged him lightly to bring him back to the present.

Jon blinked a few times, shaking his head slightly as if to clear his thoughts. He cleared his throat and tried to find his words. "How… uh… why? Oh… Hello."

Sirius chuckled softly. "Hello," he replied, then took in a deep breath. "So, are you all excited for Hogwarts this year?"

Everyone in the compartment hummed in agreement, but Jon just shrugged, his mood still weighed down by a vague sense of dread. Sirius, ever perceptive, noticed and raised an eyebrow. "What about you?"

"He'd probably have more fun setting fires," Ron said with a smug grin, clearly trying to provoke Jon. Hermione and the others shot him angry glares, which quickly shut him up.

Jon, unfazed, merely shrugged again. Sirius, sensing the tension, turned his attention to Jon, his curiosity piqued. "Why?" he asked.

Jon hesitated before responding, his gaze fixed outside the window. "I don't know… probably because of the history."

Sirius' eyes narrowed slightly in confusion. "History?"

"Ah, yes, Professor Binns' class was never my favorite either," Sirius said with a small laugh, though it didn't quite hit the mark.

"I don't think it'll be like last year," Victoria chimed in, trying to shift the conversation.

"God, I hope not…" Jon muttered under his breath.

Sirius turned his attention to Ted, who was sitting across from him. Ted, knowing exactly what was going on, leaned forward with a knowing look. "Jon's a little paranoid. He thinks every new year something always goes south."

Jon smirked at his friend's blunt honesty. "It happened for two years straight… so statistically speaking, I might be right."

Ted shrugged, unbothered by Jon's smirk. "Then I'd say your data's a little thin. Too little information to draw any real conclusions."

Sirius glanced between Ted and Jon, the two of them bickering like an old married couple. He turned to Victoria for clarification, but she just shrugged, as if to say she'd learned not to try and mediate their arguments.

Hermione, still trying to steer the conversation in a more positive direction, asked, "What classes are you taking this year, Jon?"

Jon gave her a small, knowing smile. He could already guess she'd be taking every class available, but he wasn't about to give her the satisfaction of answering the question directly. "A few… how about you?"

"A few," Hermione replied with a quick nod, clearly satisfied with the exchange.

Jon hummed thoughtfully before his attention shifted to Sirius, an idea forming in his mind. "So, what are you teaching this year, Mr. Black?"

Sirius' face lit up with a smile. "I'll be teaching you Defense Against the Dark Arts."

Jon blinked, his expression shifting from neutral to mildly surprised. "Oh," he said. He paused, thinking for a moment before continuing. "We had some poor excuse for a professor last year, so I'm hoping you'll do better. But then again, the bar was set very low."

Sirius chuckled, clearly amused by Jon's dry humor. "I'll do my best, kid."