King's Cross Station, September 1st, 1993.
Julien, Harry, and Hermione waded through a sea of red hair and stepped through the familiar solid-looking wall onto Platform 9¾, where the usual chaotic roar hit them like a wave.
The scarlet Hogwarts Express still hissed out thick white steam, unchanged as ever. Students and parents in colorful robes clustered everywhere, cats of every breed darted between suitcases, and owl hoots mixed with the general noise.
But today the center of attention was clearly Harry.
"Harry! Over here!" Seamus's voice rang out from the crowd.
Julien looked over and saw Harry immediately surrounded by a group of young witches and wizards, wearing that familiar awkward-but-polite smile.
There was still a smudge of dust on his glasses from being jostled. Hermione stood nearby, shaking her head.
"Hear you blew up your aunt?" Ernie Macmillan from Hufflepuff shouted loudly, triggering a burst of laughter.
"Did she float up to the ceiling? Or shoot out the window like a balloon?" Parvati Patil from Gryffindor and her Ravenclaw sister Padma chimed in.
"According to the Daily Prophet, Marge Dursley is still stuck in the chimney!"
Lee Jordan's voice boomed from somewhere nearby—he had already slipped into full commentator mode. "Authorities are working hard on the rescue!"
Harry forced a smile and tried to push through the crowd. "It was just an accident, really…"
"An accident?" A drawling voice cut through the noise.
Malfoy strode over from the Slytherin side with Crabbe and Goyle in tow, his platinum hair gleaming in the steam.
"I think it was on purpose, Potter. After all, the 'Boy Who Lived' always needs some… special tricks to keep his legend alive."
"Shut up, Malfoy," Ron stepped in front of Harry, face turning bright red.
"Oh, Weasley," Malfoy sneered, giving him a contemptuous glance. "I forgot—you lot love latching onto special people."
"What's that supposed to mean, Malfoy?" Hermione pushed forward from Harry's other side, arms full of books. "We're all going to the same school. What's wrong with sharing a carriage?"
"No problem at all, Granger," Pansy Parkinson cut in shrilly, her curly hair piled especially high today like some aggressive bird.
"Just wondering why some people always get away with things. Blowing up a relative? If it were me, I'd be grounded for three months at least."
"That's because you don't have an aunt worth blowing up, Parkinson," Julien said calmly, stepping up beside Harry with a smile. "Trust me, that's lucky for you."
A ripple of light laughter spread through the crowd. Even some Slytherin students couldn't help grinning. Pansy gave Julien a complicated look, opened her mouth, then closed it again without saying anything.
"All right, all right, children!" Mrs. Weasley's voice cut through the noise. "Time to board! Ginny, dear, stay with Percy—"
"I want to sit with my friends," Ginny said quietly, cheeks turning slightly pink.
"Well, you're in second year now, so do as you like," Mrs. Weasley said with a shrug.
"Ginny! Want to join us? There's still room for one more," a window slid open nearby and Michael Corner from Ravenclaw poked his head out.
Ginny waved at him but didn't say yes.
"Looks like our little Ginny is quite popular at school," Mrs. Weasley teased, patting her daughter's shoulder. Ever since last term, she still hoped Ginny would spend more time with classmates and friends to avoid another notebook incident.
Julien noticed Ginny looked much more relaxed now, though she still kept that shy habit.
The station clock struck half past ten. Harry and the others had already boarded. Julien waited at the entrance until Elizabeth and Liriya finally appeared.
"Why are you so late? Did you meet outside? Why didn't you call me?" Julien asked casually.
"None of your business. Girls have girl things to talk about," Elizabeth shot him a glare.
But Julien saw Liriya watching him with worried eyes and knew Elizabeth had already told her everything that happened over the summer.
The three of them boarded the train and found a compartment. Their compartment happened to be right next to Harry, Ron, and Hermione's.
Harry's group still had a hooded figure in a long robe sitting there, so there wasn't room for all three of them.
Inside the new compartment were already two girls. One they knew—Daphne Greengrass from Slytherin, same year as them.
She had long, straight pale-blonde hair almost the same shade as Malfoy's, and striking deep-gray almond-shaped eyes. Her skin was porcelain-pale with a faint rosy tint on her cheeks, giving her a cool, elegant beauty.
Daphne had always gotten along well with Elizabeth. Their families were both pure-blood supporters, but the Greengrasses were shrewd Slytherins who liked associating with the strong. So when she saw them, she invited them to sit together.
The younger girl sitting beside Daphne had natural honey-blonde curls, soft and bouncy like fresh corn silk with a healthy sheen. When she tilted her head to listen, the little curls gently brushed against her slightly flushed earlobes.
What stood out most was how she smiled—she seemed to smile all the time.
Unlike her sister's carefully maintained poise, her smile was untouched and innocent.
Her eyelashes were long, casting soft fan-shaped shadows on her eyelids when she looked down. When she lifted those clear gray-blue eyes to look at you, they felt exactly like forget-me-nots emerging from melting snow in spring—pure and untainted.
"This is my little sister, Astoria," Daphne introduced her fondly. "She's a first-year at Hogwarts this year."
Everyone sat down and exchanged greetings. Liriya suddenly said, "Astoria seems a bit… frail." Her senses were still unusually sharp.
"Yes, she's been weak and sickly since she was little…" Daphne started, but didn't finish.
Elizabeth Rosier gently took Astoria's small hand. "It's okay. From now on I'll look after you—no one will dare bully you. And I'll teach you how to exercise. Your body will definitely get stronger."
"Thank you, big sister," Astoria smiled sweetly, her eyes curving into little crescents.
Julien smiled at the little girl too, feeling a pang of sympathy. He knew this was the Greengrass family's blood curse, passed down through generations. In his previous life's fanfictions, even Dumbledore or Snape couldn't fix it.
The train wound through the mountains of the Scottish Highlands. Outside the window, the gray cityscape gradually gave way to the wild green of the moors.
Low clouds hung heavy, almost close enough to touch, and the air carried a damp, faintly oppressive feeling.
Julien sat by the window, eyes half-closed as if resting, but in his mind he was reviewing Defending Against Dementors: A Step-by-Step Guide to Summoning Your Patronus.
Since Grindelwald wanted him to go to Azkaban, he had naturally taught him the Patronus Charm. This was the book the Magical Resonance Library had generated for him after he started learning it.