The thunder had barely faded when McGonagall and Snape arrived. Greider and Umbridge were a minute behind them, having apparently been informed by separate channels.
What McGonagall saw — Dementors retreating on the horizon, students down on the grass beside the train, the evidence of a sustained engagement written across every exhausted face — settled into her jaw as something cold and determined.
She turned to Greider without preamble.
"Mr. Greider. You will be submitting a full report to Minister Fudge by end of day. The Ministry has a great deal of explaining to do."
It wasn't a request.
She waded into the crowd and began assessing injuries. Lupin had already found the chocolate — he'd apparently had a supply on him, which, given his history with Dementors, was not surprising — and was distributing it with the quiet efficiency of a man who had done this before.
Within the hour, the train was moving again. McGonagall had taken Greider's cooperation as given and dictated a list of immediate security improvements for the Hogwarts Express, which he'd agreed to with the tight-lipped compliance of a man who recognised that his leverage was currently at zero.
In Kevin's compartment, things were considerably more crowded than they'd been at departure. Sirius had migrated in. Harry and Ron had followed. Fred and George had appeared from somewhere. Hermione was pressed against the window with Kevin's arm around her and her head on his shoulder, listening while he talked.
He told them about the tiger.
There was a moment of complete silence after he finished — the kind that happens when a room is processing something that requires recalibration.
"You," Harry said, "are an unregistered Animagus."
"Yes."
"And the Animagus form is a magical tiger."
"Yes."
"With a thunderstorm attached to it."
"More accurately, the storm is a feature of the full transformation. In the normal form, it's just—"
"Kevin." Harry was staring at him. "A thunderstorm."
"You've known me for five years," Kevin said reasonably. "Did you think my Animagus form was going to be a pigeon?"
There was another pause, and then Fred said, with great sincerity: "Honestly, a little bit, yeah."
The tension broke. Even Sirius was laughing.
The conversation that followed was longer and more serious once the initial shock settled. Voldemort had struck at Muggles directly — at Hermione's parents specifically. That was what cut through the laughter and left the compartment quiet again. Everyone in the group understood, with a clarity that hadn't been quite so sharp before, what it meant to have families. Not abstract political targets or strategic assets. Families. Parents. People who had nothing to do with any of this and no way to defend themselves without help.
Kevin's amulets and badges suddenly looked a lot less like eccentric precautions and a lot more like the difference between a bad afternoon and a catastrophe.
The train pulled into King's Cross ahead of schedule, escorted by a visible Auror presence on both sides. And waiting on the platform was a Ministry summons.
Two of them, in fact. One for Kevin, one for Hermione.
The Grangers were already at the Ministry.