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The joyous banquet time began and ended.
With the arrival of a new day, the young witches and wizards cleared out their wardrobes, emptied their bookshelves, and had all their belongings packed into trunks. The house-elves whisked them away in preparation for loading onto the Hogwarts Express.
At the break of dawn, the holiday began.
An entire school year had flown by, it was time for the students to return home.
The Hogwarts Express had already pulled into the station early. After the house-elves assisted with loading the luggage, the great scarlet train stood ready to carry its passengers away from the castle.
"This train really is a bit too vintage," Ian remarked. It was his first time riding the Hogwarts Express, so the train's charm and oddities were still a novelty to him.
The Hogwarts Express was a classic steam engine, long and sleek, with a puffing chimney and gleaming brass. From the outside, it looked nothing more than an old-fashioned Muggle contraption, certainly not something that hinted at enchantment.
But of course, one only had to step inside.
The interior held all the tell-tale signs of sophisticated wizardry: compartments that defied space, wood-panelled carriages, charm-sealed windows, and an inviting dining carriage. Extension charms had clearly been employed to expand the interiors far beyond the exterior proportions, giving each section a comfortable, even luxurious feel.
"Our youngest brother starts next year. You must prank him, just once, we'll all pocket a little gold on the side," George said cheerily.
He and Fred were seated on either side of Ian. Neither seemed at all bothered that they'd missed the end-of-term feast due to their brief quarantine. On the contrary, they were bubbling with ideas on how to torment Ron Weasley.
And not just that.
They had new thoughts about the fast-acting Puking Pastilles, the same ones that had caused last month's supposed "smallpox outbreak."
"The Black Death! We start a full-blown plague next term, a proper medieval nightmare! Ron can be patient zero!" George announced with glee.
"The Black Death? Using your own brother for a magical contagion stunt? Don't you think your mum would hex both of you into next year?" Ian gave them a sidelong glance, half in disbelief.
Aurora had stayed behind at Hogwarts, no one quite knew why and in order to escape the constant attention from overzealous students, Ian had opted to ride in a quiet compartment with the twins.
As the students found their seats and settled in, the train gave a low rumble, the wheels clunked against the tracks, and the familiar rhythm of departure began.
Steam curled lazily from the chimney, mingling with the morning mist. The whole atmosphere felt rather dreamlike, wrapping their journey in a quiet tension, as if Hogwarts itself was watching them go.
"It's just a prank, we're not actually going to infect him," George muttered with a grin. "That look on your face, hang on, you didn't actually sneak plague essence into your Puking Pastilles, did you?"
Ian let out a long sigh.
"Simulated symptoms only. Any proper cursebreaker could tell you there's nothing real in them."
He privately thought the twins had quite a long way to go in the art of magical alchemy.
"Good, good. He is our little brother, after all. Can't have him actually catching something foul…" Fred winced, remembering the unpleasant sensations from their last experimental bout.
"Yeah, yeah, and he's still useful to us for future testing," George nodded sagely, and Ian had to swallow the words 'Should I be charging you for this?' before they left his lips.
He didn't need to ask.
The Weasley brothers had already proven how merciless they could be, even toward themselves.
"I heard you've also got a younger sister?" Ian asked casually, hoping to steer the conversation elsewhere.
The result was immediate.
"What are you plotting?!" Fred snapped, eyes narrowing. "Ian, I'm warning you, keep away from Ginny! You've already enchanted every witch under fourteen in the castle!"
George mirrored his expression, arms crossed in a protective stance.
"..." Ian blinked, utterly baffled by the sudden reaction. Just minutes ago, they'd been ready to offer up their brother as an alchemical guinea pig for school-wide chaos.
"I was just asking," he said flatly, rubbing his temple.
"Even asking is dangerous. Tell you what, take Ron instead. We'll develop a transformation sweet. Once he eats it, boom! Ron the Redhead becomes Rona the Redhead!" George proposed with a wicked glint.
Fred gave an enthusiastic clap. "Oh! Our younger brother turned younger sister! That's brilliant!"
"..." Ian stared out the window in silence, regretting every life decision that led him to share a compartment with them. He solemnly mourned for Ron for three full seconds.
"That sweet could definitely be brewed! Market it as a limited edition, call it Gender Bender Gum! Instant bestseller!" George continued, scribbling the idea down.
Ian ignored them and quietly unwrapped a breakfast sandwich from his robes, choosing to focus instead on the passing scenery.
The legendary Platform Nine and Three-Quarters was drawing nearer by the minute. Fields sped past the windows, thick groves, winding hills, and the occasional stone cottage all drifted by, a gentle reminder that he was returning to the world he'd come from.
After a while,
"Daily Prophet…" Ian muttered, not looking up. He had no interest in the twins' increasingly bizarre transformation talk. Instead, he turned his eyes to the fluttering newspapers now being distributed across the train.
And right on the front page, a headline too bold to miss.
"The Rising Star of Tomorrow: A Child Who Saved Hogwarts"
It had to be said, Aurora's views weren't entirely without foundation. Since falling under Grindelwald's influence, The Daily Prophet had taken to widely publicizing Ian's feat of defeating a dark wizard during the school term.
The praise was positively extravagant. Although the dark wizard's identity wasn't named, the article described him as a formidable and dangerous sorcerer who had slain numerous adult witches and wizards. Ian skimmed the piece and felt his ears grow warm with embarrassment, the flattery was thoroughly over the top.
"I heard about this from Dad! He reckons you might even be awarded the Order of Merlin, Second Class!" George and Fred looked up from their prank schematics to lean over the paper.
"That's your dad's opinion?" Ian raised an eyebrow. Truth be told, receiving a Merlin Second Class for taking down a dark wizard, especially as a student, was nearly unheard of.
Let alone when the recipient was only eleven. If Ian truly were granted the Order of Merlin, Second Class, it would make him the youngest recipient in history. An eleven-year-old with that kind of honour? The magical world would be reeling.
For the sake of caution, the Order of Merlin likely wouldn't make such a bold move lightly.
"It's all part of a deal between the Ministry and Headmaster Dumbledore. They're backing your nomination to the Order directly. Seems like a done deal to us," said George, surprisingly insightful despite his usual antics. Fred nodded vigorously beside him.
"Honestly, we're still scratching our heads about how you pulled it off," Fred added, clearly hoping for more details.
"Erm…"
Ian began silently calculating what parts of the truth he could share and what absolutely had to stay secret.
And then—
Whoosh~
Quite suddenly, the air around them shimmered.
A black phoenix materialized beside Ian. The twins, who had been mid-discussion about joke sweets, nearly fell off their seats in shock.
"What is that magical beast!?"
"It's a bird! And it just Apparated!"
Clearly, they'd recognised the magic behind the bird's arrival but didn't identify it as a phoenix, perhaps because the bird's dark feathers and eerie aura made it seem more otherworldly.
"This is my companion," Ian introduced it casually, careful not to go into detail about its origins.
After all, Hogwarts had more gossip-mongers than gnomes in a garden, and with George and Fred among the worst of them, saying too much would be a disaster.
"Hehehehe~"
The black phoenix gave a sharp trill, a half-hearted greeting at best. Then, with a flutter, it dropped a small object into Ian's lap before slipping into the folds of his robes.
It was a small, enchanted suitcase.
Crafted personally by Albus Dumbledore.
(To Be Continued…)
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