The Aurors stationed around King's Cross were most likely there for Lockhart and Bellatrix.
A few days earlier, Cornelius Fudge had personally invited Tom for a private conversation, asking whether he required Auror protection.
Lockhart alone was manageable. As long as one guarded against a sudden Memory Charm, he posed little threat. The real trouble was Bellatrix.
According to the Ministry's recent surveillance, Lockhart and Bellatrix had been wandering around London for days, clearly planning something. Revenge was the most probable motive.
Bellatrix Lestrange was the Dark Lord's most fanatical servant. Her target was obvious.
Harry.
And Lockhart?
Tom had stripped him of everything he once possessed. There was little ambiguity there.
Tom declined Fudge's offer politely. School was about to begin, and Hogwarts was the safest place in Britain. Fudge had not looked pleased, but he did not press the matter further.
Everyone trusted Dumbledore.
No one trusted the Ministry.
The more often Fudge heard that comparison, the sharper it felt.
...
With a hiss of steam and a long whistle, the Hogwarts Express slowly pulled away from Platform Nine and Three Quarters.
Tom chose an empty compartment. Penelope had gone to attend the prefect meeting. Cho was keeping Marietta company. Ginny, meanwhile, had brought Luna along.
"How was your summer?" Tom asked, studying Luna.
She had added a new butterfly hair clip to her pale hair. It was undeniably beautiful, but faintly unsettling. The wings were real butterfly specimens, preserved and mounted.
Luna nodded gently. "Very pleasant. Though we did not find the Crumple Horned Snorkack. Father thinks we arrived too late. They may have migrated to the North Pole."
Hermione, who looked half dead with exhaustion, sighed weakly. "There is no such thing as a Crumple Horned Snorkack, Luna."
The previous night, the girls had held a pillow fight that escalated into whispered conversations that lasted until dawn. They had only fallen asleep when the sky began to lighten. Hermione was now running purely on stubbornness.
Luna did not seem offended.
"The Snorkack must exist," she replied earnestly. "Just like Wrackspurts exist around people all the time, though few notice them. One must search patiently."
Under normal circumstances, Hermione would have launched into a detailed rebuttal backed by research and citations. Now she simply opened her mouth, closed it again, and leaned against Tom's shoulder, drifting toward sleep.
Tom took over the conversation.
"Are there any Wrackspurts around me?"
Luna studied him for a long moment before shaking her head.
"No."
Tom chuckled. "Strange. I feel like I have plenty of troubles. Shouldn't there be Wrackspurts buzzing around my head?"
An artificial body project. The expansion of his enchanted paper. The Trial of the Phoenix. A dozen other complications. His mind ran at full speed every single day. He suspected Dumbledore worried about far less. The old man's attention was focused almost entirely on Voldemort.
"That is because you already have solutions and confidence," Luna said softly. "You only require time to complete them. They do not trouble you deeply."
Her tone was airy, almost mystical, yet Tom found the logic unexpectedly persuasive.
He turned slightly, expanding his magical perception to its fullest. He could clearly sense the faint magic unconsciously radiating from the girls around him.
But he found nothing resembling a Wrackspurt.
Was Luna's gift greater than Merlin's?
The thought flickered through his mind before he dismissed it. Luna's magical aura was not particularly strong. Slightly better than Astoria's, perhaps.
He suppressed the curiosity.
There would be time later. Luna was not going anywhere.
...
Several compartments away, Harry had a piece of bread clamped between his teeth while copying Ron's homework line by line.
"How much left?" Ron asked lazily.
"History of Magic almost done. Then Transfiguration. Potions..." Harry groaned. "Damn it. Potions I have to write myself. Snape will definitely notice."
In the corner, wrapped tightly in his shabby robes, Remus Lupin offered a helpless smile.
"Harry... copying homework in front of one professor while insulting another is not ideal."
Harry grinned sheepishly. "Term has not started yet. Once we get to school, I promise not to speak ill of Snape in front of you."
Half a month ago, Lupin had returned to Britain and reconciled with Sirius. He had naturally met Harry, and they had begun dining together frequently. Their relationship grew warmer with each meeting.
When Harry learned that Lupin would teach at Hogwarts, he had been thrilled. For once, he would not face Snape alone.
...
Hours passed.
The train left England behind, but outside the rain only grew heavier. Inside the carriages, the temperature steadily dropped.
The screech of metal wheels against track grew louder, then slower.
Finally, the sound faded entirely.
The rain battered the windows with renewed force.
"Why are we stopping?" Harry shivered. He slid the compartment door open and leaned into the corridor. Other students were doing the same, craning their necks to peer outside.
With a heavy jolt, the train came to a complete halt.
The temperature plummeted.
Raindrops on the windows crystallized into frost that spread like living veins. The dim lights flickered, then went out.
Darkness swallowed the train.
"What is happening?" Ron asked from behind him.
Harry returned to his seat, bewildered.
"Is it the engine?"
"No," Lupin said quietly. "Stay alert."
He had awakened fully now. In the darkness, Harry and Ron could not see his grave expression, but they heard the faint sound of a wand being drawn.
Before Lupin could act, an eerie, piercing shriek echoed from outside.
The frost on the windows melted abruptly. One by one, the carriage lights flickered back to life.
Harry pressed his face to the glass.
He saw shadows, dark shapes streaking away into the storm at incredible speed.
And in the place he could not see, high above the train, a pair of enormous eyes formed from swirling silver mist stared down coldly at the fleeing creatures.