It was nearly midnight when Hadrian peeked his head out of the Hufflepuff common room. The enchanted barrels had thankfully not been set to alarm mode — either because the professors trusted Hufflepuffs more or because no one expected mischief from them.
He turned to his two co-conspirators, both cloaked in dark robes and wide grins.
"Ready?" he whispered.
Dora adjusted her hair to match the shadows, a shimmering dark brown. "Born ready."
Iris just nodded, her eyes wide with excitement. This was her first real rule-breaking adventure, and she looked like she was trying not to bounce with glee.
Their journey through the castle was filled with whispered giggles, the occasional near trip over invisible steps, and Hadrian freezing everyone in place at every creak of the floorboards. They made it to the broom closet — a secured room off the Quidditch pitch's supply shed — and Hadrian pulled out his wand.
He whispered, "Alohomora."
The lock clicked softly.
"Not bad," Dora said. "Someone's been practicing."
"Someone may have found a very handy spellbook under his pillow last week," Hadrian replied with a wink.
They slipped inside. There were rows of school brooms, all neatly stacked. The trio each picked one, and quietly crept to the open pitch.
The moment they stepped onto the field, the sky seemed to open above them. The stars twinkled against a sea of midnight blue, the moon casting silver light across the grass. A slight breeze ruffled their robes.
"It's… beautiful," Iris murmured.
"Let's make it better," Hadrian said, mounting his broom.
On three, they kicked off.
It was clumsy at first — the brooms wobbled, tilted, and dipped — but gradually, they steadied. Soon, they were gliding silently over the pitch, weaving through the air with delighted laughter carried off by the wind.
Dora zipped past Hadrian, sticking out her tongue. "Catch me if you can, slowpoke!"
"Oh, it's on," he growled, surging forward.
Iris wasn't as reckless, but her joy was evident. She floated gently, turning in wide arcs, her hair glowing silver under the moonlight.
"Look!" she called, pointing toward the Forbidden Forest.
In the distance, fireflies hovered like living stars. The world felt far away, and none of them wanted to return to it just yet.
They played chase, tried synchronized loops (which ended in synchronized screaming), and even attempted a triangle formation. After nearly an hour of flying, they finally slowed to a hover above the Quidditch rings.
Dora let out a content sigh. "Why don't they just let us do this all the time?"
"Because then it wouldn't feel like this," Hadrian said, grinning.
They touched down, giggling and panting. The thrill, the cold air, the joy of shared rebellion — it was the kind of night they would remember forever.
As they locked the brooms back up and crept through the corridors, Iris whispered, "We should do this again sometime."
Hadrian nodded. "Absolutely."
"Next time," Dora said with a mischievous gleam, "we bring snacks."
They reached the common room, stifling yawns. As the barrels opened and they stepped into the familiar warmth of home, Hadrian couldn't help but think: This is what magic should feel like.
And with that, they quietly slipped into bed, their dreams full of stars, laughter, and the wind beneath their feet.