Susan came to pick Aster from the platform, her presence slightly stiff, formal, clearly nervous. Hermione was also leaving for the holidays to visit her parents, and by sheer coincidence, their travel schedules matched.
Only Harry and Ron remained behind at Hogwarts, eager to spend their time investigating further.
The train ride was awkward.
Hermione had hoped, perhaps even expected, to spend the holidays with Aster. She didn't say it, of course, but her silence spoke volumes. She sat by the window, eyes fixed on the passing countryside, arms crossed tighter than usual.
The compartment was heavy with unspoken tension.
Aster didn't notice. Or if he did, he didn't care to name it. He simply sat across from them, flipping through a thin book on wandless magic, mostly quiet except to remind Hermione to wear gloves, it was getting colder, after all.
Eventually, the train reached the parting station. Hermione stepped onto the platform, reluctant.
Aster followed behind her and said quietly, "I'll bring you a gift when we meet again."
Hermione blinked, startled by the softness in his voice. She nodded once. "It better not be a cursed object."
He almost smiled. "No promises."
Susan waited beside them, watching with mild curiosity. As soon as Hermione left with her parents, she turned toward Aster, her tone teasing but uncertain.
"You two are really close…" she said, then glanced sideways at him. "Or maybe… more than friends?"
Aster didn't blink. "Friends," he replied simply. "We've lived together since I was eight."
Susan fell quiet, unsure whether she was disappointed by the answer, or that he didn't hesitate to give it.
Aster followed Susan out onto the quiet, snow-dusted street. She pulled out her wand with a casual flick, and within seconds, there was a loud bang and a bright flash as a tall, violently purple bus screeched to a halt in front of them.
It was a bus, but not like any he'd seen before. The letters painted across the front read: The Knight Bus.
Susan stepped aboard confidently and paid for both their fares without a word. Aster noticed a few passengers already slumped in the mismatched beds and armchairs bolted to the floor, dozing in awkward positions. The bus jolted suddenly as it lurched into motion, making him grab a nearby pole to keep from falling.
The journey was long, but not boring.
Outside the wide windows, the world blurred past in impossible patterns, trees vanishing, buildings folding out of the way, lampposts bending rather than being hit. Aster leaned against the glass, trying to understand it. He'd read about invisibility charms and magical concealment, but this… this was something else.
The bus didn't just avoid things. It seemed to phase through tight alleys, squeeze between telephone poles, and even jump through open gaps in fences without slowing down. No trace of magic showed at the seams, it was seamless, erratic, and strangely elegant in its own chaotic way.
"A mechanical body with a magical mind," Aster murmured to himself. "Like a beast given a leash."
He glanced at Susan. She was reading a folded copy of The Daily Prophet, her brow furrowed at some headline he couldn't see. Her presence was quiet, almost nervous, like she wasn't sure if bringing him home had been the right idea.
Aster didn't speak. He simply stared out the window, calculating, wondering what kind of woman Amelia Bones would be, and whether this trip would change anything at all.
After a few minutes, the earth trembled beneath the wheels of the Knight Bus. The air around them thickened, shadows deepening unnaturally outside the windows. A sudden shift in temperature made Susan glance around, uneasy. The chill of night had given way to something far worse, a dry, rising heat, as if the world itself were holding its breath.
Aster's gaze snapped to the glass. What should have been clouds now looked like a shifting mass of darkness, too fast, too unnatural to be weather. The windows fogged from the inside, not with condensation, but magic itself curling like breath on glass.
One of the shrunken heads above the driver's seat groaned, then let out a rasping shriek, and fell silent.
Without hesitation, Aster moved in front of Susan, his stance protective. He didn't realize his eyes had changed; gone was the usual calm violet glow. Now they burned with slitted pupils, surrounded by a fiery red, sharp, and unearthly.
"The Knight Bus won't hold for long!" the driver shouted, his voice breaking as the other passengers stirred in panic, gripping seat rails or each other, the vehicle careening as if the road had warped.
Suddenly, the magical barriers of the speeding vehicle began to crack and buckle. Runes along the walls glowed erratically. Jagged holes tore through the side, and from the darkness outside, something monstrous was pressing in, a creeping, thrumming shadow that seemed to devour the light itself.
But then, time stuttered. Not fully stopping, but slowing to a syrupy crawl. The Obscurial, massive and howling with raw grief and fury, froze mid-lunge. The heat surged. Air shimmered. Magic sparked across the walls like tiny stars going nova.
And it began to shrink, not dissolve, not explode, implode, like something being pulled into a vortex. The cloud contorted, writhing, then collapsed into itself, vanishing in a single, unnatural blink.
Susan stared at Aster, her breath stolen. His body radiated something terrible and divine, an energy not born of wands or training.
He was doing something.
Something forbidden. Something ancient.
And even he wasn't fully aware of it.
The bus lurched, steadied, and all fell quiet. except for the lingering crackle of spent magic, as if the very air was exhaling after holding too much power.
Aster's body suddenly went limp, his strength draining away like water slipping through fingers. His skin looked faintly pale, glowing softly, his veins briefly lit with golden light beneath the surface, fading just as quickly.
Susan caught him effortlessly, steadying him in her arms.
"You're burning up," she whispered, not metaphorically. His skin was hot, like someone fevered or sun-scorched — but not sick.
In the distance, unseen, a magical containment alarm began to ring inside the Ministry.
Almost immediately, the Knight Bus was surrounded by a group of wizards, stern-faced and alert.
A woman stepped inside, her presence commanding. She scanned the interior with sharp eyes until they landed on Susan. Her expression softened briefly, and she let out a heavy sigh.
"Aunt," Susan said quietly.
Amelia, Susan's aunt and a high-ranking Ministry enforcer, was known for her unyielding dedication and a reputation that kept even dark wizards wary.
She raised her voice, cutting through the tense silence like steel. "I want to know who let it break loose!"
The others outside stiffened at her words.
Turning to Aster, Amelia knelt beside him and let her fingers brush lightly over the faint traces of residual magic shimmering beneath his skin. Her touch was both gentle and probing, as if reading a silent story woven into his very being.
Her voice dropped to a low, almost reverent whisper. "The obscurial isn't dead. It's only been consumed… contained for now."
Aster woke on a cold cot inside the Ministry of Magic. His limbs ached, muscles sore as if he'd run miles in his sleep. He blinked up at a plain, enchanted ceiling, one that pulsed softly with faint light.
He wasn't alone.
Susan sat in a chair nearby, hugging her knees, watching him. A quiet kind of relief flickered behind her eyes when she saw him stir.
Across the room, Amelia Bones sat at a heavy desk, quill scratching briskly across parchment. Her coat was folded over the back of her chair, revealing a wand holster at her side and the faint shimmer of protective wards set around the office.
"Good afternoon," she said without looking up. Her voice was brisk but not unkind. "Sorry for what happened. We're investigating it now."
Aster sat up slowly, rubbing his head. "What was that thing?"
She paused mid-stroke, then resumed writing.
"That's what we're trying to determine," Amelia said. "But the fact that it targeted your bus, on that route, at that time, doesn't seem like a coincidence."
He opened his mouth to ask more, but something… off lingered in the air. A pull. Not magical exactly, but something older. It scratched at the back of his thoughts, a whisper just out of reach.
He wanted to follow it. Needed to.
But Susan was here. And somehow, he knew, if he stood up now, he might not come back the same.
Amelia looked up at him fully then, eyes assessing, calm, unreadable.
Amelia's quill came to a stop. The scratching ceased. She didn't lift her gaze right away, just tapped the feathered tip against the parchment once, twice.
"I heard you want to take control over Slytherin."
Aster tensed slightly, but said nothing. His expression remained unreadable.
Amelia finally looked up, sharp and focused.
"That's not really my business," she continued, voice calm, "but I can help you. After all… You protected my niece."
Aster didn't reply. He didn't need to. He could feel something beneath his foot, not a tremor, not a vibration, but a deep, slow pulse. Like a heartbeat. Faint, but powerful. Not magic he recognized. Not normal magic.
Amelia watched him sense it but didn't comment. She had seen enough in her life to know when something unusual stirred. And that thing, whatever it was, would have to wait.
She leaned back in her chair. "Be closer to my niece."
The words were measured, but not entirely neutral.
She didn't say why. Didn't need to.
Susan, standing a little behind Aster, immediately flushed. "Auntie—"
"She needs more people," Amelia said, cutting gently but firmly across her. "She's… a bit clumsy, isn't she?"
It was true. Susan was sweet, brave, loyal, but awkward in crowds, too hesitant with spells, and not quick with words like others her age.
And Amelia cared. That much was clear.
Aster glanced back at Susan, then to Amelia again. He understood.
This wasn't a request. It was something deeper. A pact.
He gave a faint nod. Not cold, but solemn.
"I will," he said.
The heartbeat under his foot throbbed again.