THE MASTERMIND OF HOGWARTS

For Penelope Clearwater, today had been surprisingly fortunate. First, she had been completely at a loss about how to get onto Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, only to be helped by a kind family. Then, when she boarded the Hogwarts Express, she ran into the same family again.

The family was large, with flaming red hair marking them as unmistakably the Weasleys. Through their conversation, Penelope learned that one of them, Percy Weasley, was a first-year like herself.

Percy, ever the eager host, had immediately invited her to join him in a compartment at the back of the train. He offered to carry her suitcase, lifting his own with his left hand and taking hers in his right.

"The last compartment is usually empty," Percy said, affecting a mature tone. "First-years like to gather in groups, so the older students prefer to avoid them."

His older brother, Charlie Weasley, had once told him this, and Percy thought it sounded particularly sophisticated.

But what really prompted Percy to invite her, for reasons he didn't fully understand himself, was the moment he first saw Penelope. Something about her brown hair and freckled face reminded him of his little sister Ginny, whom he always felt a strong urge to protect.

Penelope noticed the faint flush creeping up Percy's face and smiled, giving him a slight nod. "The train's leaving soon. Let's hurry."

As she saw Percy beginning to struggle under the weight of the luggage, she hesitated for a moment before speaking hesitantly. "My dad packed a lot for me since I'm going to Hogwarts for the first time. Maybe I should carry my suitcase myself…"

Percy immediately shook his head, his determined expression firm. But Penelope was insistent, politely taking her own suitcase back.

They reached the last compartment, and Percy rushed ahead with a loud thump, placing their luggage on the floor before dramatically swinging open the door. He turned back to her with a triumphant smile. "See? We're here."

Penelope peered inside—only to find a boy with grayish-silver hair sitting alone by the window, gazing outside.

The boy, Moriarty, turned his head slightly, his silver-gray eyes meeting hers. At that exact moment, a golden beam of sunlight filtered through the window, catching his ash-colored hair and giving it an almost ethereal glow.

Penelope, startled, quickly averted her gaze. For some reason, she felt flustered, as if something about the boy's presence made her chest tighten.

Percy, panting slightly from carrying both suitcases, finally noticed the gray-haired student. Sweat beaded on his forehead as he chuckled awkwardly. "Well… at least there's only one other person here, right?"

Penelope gave a small nod and then turned to Moriarty. "Would it be alright if we sit here?" she asked.

Percy, ever the proper gentleman, suddenly realized he had acted quite presumptuously and quickly bowed his head apologetically. "My apologies for barging in like that, sir. I was just in a hurry. You know how it is… The other compartments are full of excitable first-years."

Moriarty quirked an eyebrow but allowed the slightest hint of a smile. Watching a first-year try so hard to appear mature was almost amusing.

"You're quite the gentleman, aren't you?" Moriarty mused. "And it's admirable that you helped the lady with her luggage." He gave Percy a knowing wink.

Percy flushed crimson. "It's just common courtesy… but I do appreciate you saying so. My family never seems to understand me. My younger brothers especially—they always laugh at me for being so formal."

As he spoke, his voice faded slightly, and a nostalgic smile flickered on his lips. "Though, I suppose they mean well…"

Realizing that both Moriarty and Penelope were quietly watching him, Percy gave a nervous chuckle and quickly changed the subject. "Am I talking too much? Oh! I nearly forgot—my name is Percy Weasley! My dream is to become a Gryffindor prefect!"

He stretched out his hand toward Moriarty with practiced confidence, as if this was a diplomatic introduction at the Ministry of Magic itself.

Moriarty extended his own hand, shaking Percy's with a measured grip. "Hello, Weasley. I'm Moriarty Slytherin."

Percy's brows furrowed as he heard the name. He felt a jolt of recognition—Slytherin? Where had he heard that before? A half-formed memory flickered in his mind, just out of reach.

Meanwhile, Moriarty turned his attention toward Penelope, studying her thoughtfully.

It was clear he had expected to meet someone like Percy on the train—the Weasleys were hard to miss, after all. But this brown-haired girl was unfamiliar to him.

"I'm Penelope Clearwater!" she said, smiling despite the faint pink on her cheeks. "My parents are… Muggles. But I'll become a great witch one day, I'm sure of it!"

She spoke with such conviction that her freckles seemed to sparkle in the sunlight.

"I have no doubt," Moriarty replied, nodding. "You absolutely can, Miss Clearwater."

Who would have thought that this freckled, wide-eyed girl would someday become one of Ravenclaw's most capable and intelligent prefects?

Just then, the train gave a loud whistle and jerked forward, setting off toward Hogwarts.

Penelope turned to the window, her blue eyes filled with excitement. "I've been on London trains before, but never a magic one! My parents were so shocked when they found out I got into Hogwarts. I'll never forget their faces!"

Moriarty studied her, noting her slight hesitation. He could tell she was nervous about being a Muggle-born student.

"At Hogwarts, your background doesn't matter," he said casually, flipping through the pages of a thick, old book he was reading. "They judge students by their abilities, not their birth."

"Really?" Penelope turned to look at him, her eyes shining with a mixture of curiosity and hope. "I want to be an excellent student, just like I was back in London."

Lowering her gaze, she noticed the book in his hands. The cover was filled with strange symbols she didn't recognize.

"Hey, this book of yours… Is this a magic book?" Penelope asked, tilting her head slightly. Her curiosity shone through.

"Yes," Moriarty replied, glancing at the text in his lap. "The Theory of Magic." He ran his fingers over the cover before flipping it open to a page covered in intricate runes. "I was just thinking… if we applied a blend of rune enchantments and alchemy to a vehicle imbued with a powerful memory charm, we might be able to create a magical transport system as efficient as the Hogwarts Express—but it seems more complicated than I expected."

After months of study, Moriarty had grown fascinated with the depths of ancient magic. While the path of elemental magic—as emphasized by Hogwarts—was direct and powerful, ancient magic had a subtlety and mystery that was even more intriguing.

Penelope blinked, stunned. Rune application? Alchemy? The vision of simple, whimsical magic she had imagined shattered.

Percy, still trying to shake off his earlier embarrassment, suddenly stiffened. A moment later, his memory clicked into place, and his eyes widened in realization.

"Wait a minute… you're that Moriarty, aren't you?" His voice rose in pitch, almost cracking. "Mr. Slytherin? My brother Charlie mentioned you! He said no other first-years could read such advanced magic. Ancient Runes isn't even an option until third year!"

Although Moriarty Slytherin's name had already spread across the wizarding world, Percy—too occupied with perfecting his image as a future prefect—hadn't paid much attention. Now, sitting beside this silver-haired boy who was apparently his age, he suddenly felt an overwhelming pressure.

Before he could say anything more, there was a loud crash—the door to the compartment was suddenly pulled open.

A tall girl with golden-blond hair, dark eyes, and fair skin stood at the entrance. Her long, silky hair draped over her shoulders, and as the warm air of the train moved through the cabin, a delicate fragrance wafted toward them.

Moriarty, his gray eyes sharp and observant, caught the scent immediately. Bird Snake Egg Yolk Shampoo.