The two of them looked at each other and leaned back against the window, watching the lively scene unfold on the platform.
"Do you think they'll actually start fighting?" Vivian asked, her eyes wide with the sort of excitement that only comes from being a safe distance away from trouble.
"Probably not. Look, the Aurors are already moving in to maintain order."
The crowd up ahead was quickly intercepted by Aurors who arrived the moment the shouting began. The two groups, who had been trading insults and looked ready to draw their wands, were forcefully separated.
"Phew, I thought they might actually go at it. I didn't expect them to just talk trash. How boring," Vivian said, slumping back into her seat with a disappointed huff as the crowd dispersed.
Alan looked at her and felt as if he were observing a neighborhood gossip from his previous life—someone who watched the world teeter on the edge of chaos while calmly snacking on melon seeds.
"Which house do you think we'll be sorted into? My family usually ends up in Slytherin, so I'll likely be there too," Vivian asked idly.
"I don't really care, but Ravenclaw would be my preference. I heard they have their own private library." Alan had researched the houses; he simply wanted a place where he could study in peace.
"Ha, just looking at you, I can tell Ravenclaw suits you. You've been reading since the moment you sat down. I heard they're all incredibly bright there."
"If you do end up in Slytherin, you'll need to be careful," Alan said, offering a quiet warning. "The world is quite dangerous right now, and I've heard many of those who follow the Dark Lord come from that house."
"That's not entirely true," Vivian said nonchalantly. "A lot of the Slytherin families stay neutral, like the Bulstrodes. Many of them don't actually believe the Dark Lord will win in the end."
"Is that because of Dumbledore? I heard he's the greatest wizard of our time." Alan wasn't particularly interested in the politics of pure-bloods, especially since he was Muggle-born and unlikely to be sorted there.
"It's not just that. My patriarch says the Dark Lord's ideology is too extreme. He's determined to eliminate wizards of Muggle descent, but so many pure-blood families have business dealings with Muggles, and..." Vivian leaned in closer, dropping her voice. "And almost every pure-blood family has intermarried with Muggles at some point. If they hadn't, the lines would have died out years ago."
Alan had suspected as much. Constant inbreeding usually led to severe mental or physical defects.
"I wouldn't say that too loudly in the Slytherin common room," Alan remarked, somewhat taken aback by her bluntness. "They'll certainly cause you trouble."
"Don't worry, I'm not stupid."
Their conversation was interrupted by a knock on the compartment door. A boy stood there, scratching his head with a sheepish grin.
"Hey, do you mind if I squeeze in? Everywhere else is packed."
"Not at all, there's plenty of room. I'm Alan Wilson, and this is Vivian Bulstrode." Since the compartment could comfortably seat six, a third person didn't make it feel crowded.
"Charles. My name is Charles McKinnon," the boy said with a shy smile. He was tall—perhaps even taller than Alan—but had a slender, lean build.
The moment Vivian heard his name, she began winking furiously at Alan. Her meaning was clear: this was a member of the McKinnon family they had just seen arguing on the platform.
Alan ignored her and helped Charles with his luggage. Once the boy was settled, Vivian immediately struck up a conversation. Fortunately, she stuck to small talk. Alan had been half-afraid she would blurt out, *Was it your family nearly starting a riot outside?* which would have made for an incredibly long and awkward journey.
"Hey, have you heard? Harold Minchum, the Minister of Magic, is likely stepping down. People are saying he's done nothing but cram more Dementors into Azkaban while the Dark Lord gains power. The Death Eaters are getting bolder. I heard they even attacked Sirius Black in Diagon Alley last month," Vivian said, pulling a copy of The Daily Prophet from her bag.
*That was actually Knockturn Alley,* Alan thought, but he stayed silent. Vivian seemed to be a walking encyclopedia of rumors; she would have made an excellent investigative reporter.
"It's about time for a change," Charles said, his shy demeanor vanishing, replaced by a flash of anger. "Passive defense only leads to more casualties. Those Death Eaters are using every foul trick they can find."
"Don't worry, they won't be around forever." Alan didn't remember the full plot, but he knew Voldemort was destined to fall shortly after Harry Potter's birth.
Charles took the words as mere comfort and offered a tight, awkward smile. "My family has always fought against You-Know-Who. Several of my relatives are Aurors. Death Eaters attacked my uncle recently and broke his leg. He's still recovering at St. Mungo's. He's absolutely certain one of them was a Travers, but the Ministry says there's no evidence. It's infuriating."
Charles spoke bitterly about the Ministry's incompetence. Alan realized then that the Ministry must be fractured internally, with sympathizers hampering the resistance from within.
"That's awful! Your uncle saw it happen and they won't even make an arrest?" Vivian looked genuinely shocked.
"A lot of them wear masks," Alan explained. "Even if you're sure who it is, proving it to a court that doesn't want to see it is a different matter."
Charles nodded in agreement, though he looked at Alan with a hint of curiosity, wondering how a fellow first-year seemed so well-informed. As the children discussed the state of the world, the train finally lurched into motion.
"We're finally moving. I heard it takes hours to get there," Vivian muttered.
Hours? Alan couldn't understand why a society with such advanced transportation magic still relied on a steam train. He turned to his new companions to ask exactly why.