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The Hogwarts Express. To generations of Hogwarts students, the big, red engine had symbolized new beginnings, adventure, and the return to the venerable and distinguished institution, one, which Jean-Sebastian Delacour had to admit, rivaled and surpassed even that of the beloved school of his youth.
There was also, he supposed, a sort of conceited arrogance about the old engine, especially in its location. Hidden away in one of the busiest stations in the country, the platform and the entire railway line up to the magical town in Scotland was almost a physical manifestation of the Wizarding world thumbing its nose at the Muggle world—in essence it was a sneering example of what wizards could do under the very noses of the Muggles, an example of what their magic could accomplish and how there was nothing the Muggles could do to stop them.
In an age where almost instantaneous travel could be initiated by those in the Wizarding world, the Express was a lasting image to the British magical public, not to mention a leftover anachronism to a world which had largely progressed passed the point of needing it. Beauxbatons, for example, had a large Floo reception area in its main hall where the students would arrive on the first day of classes, and subsequently return home on the days when school was let out. Of course, as it would be inadvisable at best to allow young school students access to an instantaneous method of travelling, the Floo connections were shut down for the bulk of the school year, and all travel through them was heavily supervised by the staff when they were open.
However, knowing as he did the importance of symbols in everyday life, Jean-Sebastian supposed that maintaining the Express was a worthwhile endeavor—not all traditions became defunct simply because a better way had been developed. And looking at the excitement on the faces of the assembled students told him that they at least did not consider the Express to be redundant.
Of course, the one part of the Express with which Jean-Sebastian was not enamored, was the fact that the students spent several hours travelling between London and Hogsmeade with very little supervision outside that of the student leaders themselves. And given what Harry had told him about some of the goings on during the journey—specifically those involving the confrontations with the Malfoy scion which appeared to happen every time they travelled to or from the school—Jean-Sebastian could not be entirely comfortable.
Still, the children are very capable and responsible, he mused to himself. The Malfoy boy may be a bit of a hothead, but Harry, especially with Fleur's backing, can certainly handle him. The way I understand it, he's been handling the boy for years.
The thought was comforting—Fleur, despite what the British wizards generally thought was her failure at the Triwizard, was a supremely capable and powerful witch. They would have each other—not to mention their friends—to provide support and protection. The power and capacity of a talented, determined and united group of friends could not be underestimated.
As they stepped through the barrier, the three teens made their way to the train and settled their belongings into a compartment before rejoining the three Delacours who were not leaving for Hogwarts—Gabrielle was still a little upset that she would not be accompanying her sister and her hero on their adventure—to say their final goodbyes.
"Neville! Luna!" Harry exclaimed as they stepped down from the train coach.
The two friends arrived and were greeted warmly by the party, though the greetings were a little understated; they had only parted two days earlier, after all.
Once the greetings had been completed, the two new arrivals boarded the train to leave their belongings in the compartment their three friends had already secured.
"Harry, where are the Weasleys?" Fleur suddenly asked, while peering around the platform.
Clearly amused, Hermione and Harry shared a glance. Then Harry looked at his watch—a clearly exaggerated gesture—before returning his gaze to Fleur and meeting her eyes with a look of mischief.
"They should be showing up about ten minutes from now."
Perplexed, Fleur glanced down at her own watch. "But the express will depart in ten minutes."
By now the two best friends were sniggering under their breaths, causing Fleur no small amount of exasperation, Jean-Sebastian noted.
"Fleur, the Weasleys are known for being a little tardy," said Harry between laughs.
"They'll come bustling in just before the train departs," added Hermione. "They do this every year—everyone who has ridden the train since Bill started school knows about them and looks forward to the show."
The three shared a laugh, after which Harry launched into the story of how they arrived at the last moment for his second year, and how he and Ron had found the portal closed to them. But as amusing as the story was, Jean-Sebastian found his mind wandering. As he had already told himself, they were extremely capable young people, but he could not help but worry, especially with Umbridge in residence at the venerable castle. He did not doubt that the woman would seize the first opportunity to spew her vitriol at his eldest daughter.
Jean-Sebastian scowled at the thought—he would have the woman's head if she behaved with anything other than the most professional conduct.
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