Officially, Hogwarts operated only one mode of transportation.
The Hogwarts Express, a steam locomotive over a hundred years old.
From first to seventh year, without distinction, all students used this train to enter the secret school of magic.
And the same was true when it was time to leave.
*Chooo! Choo!*
The Hogwarts Express, painted a clean black and red, blew its horn, letting out plumes of steam.
In front of the soon-to-depart train, the school staff were saying their goodbyes to the students.
Hagrid, who had been standing at a distance, spotted Harry and came over.
His face was flushed red, the very picture of anger. Seeing Hagrid's expression, which was visible even from afar, Harry stopped in his tracks as the groundskeeper approached him.
"Harry, I'm so ashamed. To think you went through such an ordeal because of my careless mouth! I'm truly rubbish!"
As he spoke, Hagrid's face was a clear mask of uncontrollable anger at himself.
Seeing this, I let out a small laugh.
He was truly someone worth Albus's protection. After all, the ability to admit and reflect on one's own mistakes was a rare quality indeed.
Nevertheless, having already heard of Hagrid's colorful history, I was inwardly certain that he would cause at least one more accident involving a magical creature someday.
Even Albus had given up on correcting him, so who could possibly stop him? He probably wouldn't be fixed even if he did a real stint in Azkaban.
Come to think of it, had there really been no incidents involving the Acromantulas in the Forbidden Forest for the past few decades? I couldn't imagine that being the case.
While I was lost in my various thoughts, Harry was busy consoling the sniffling Hagrid.
"Don't blame yourself so much, Hagrid. Voldemort probably would have figured out a way past that dog even without your help. In fact, he could have just gotten by with a single Killing Curse."
Hagrid was so shocked he stopped sniffling. He stared at Harry with wide eyes and exclaimed, "Harry! The Killing Curse! Don't you ever think such terrible things! A child like you shouldn't even imagine such a thing."
Hagrid couldn't possibly imagine that the boy standing before him had fired that very curse at Quirrell less than a week ago.
To me, who knew the whole story, it was an incredibly amusing sight. I barely managed to hold back a laugh.
Harry could only nod with a troubled expression and laugh it off.
"Ah, right. This isn't much, but it's a gift to show you how sorry I am."
Then, Hagrid fumbled in his coat and pulled out a small book, handing it to Harry.
Harry took the book and asked, "Um, what's this?"
"You'll know when you open it."
And inside the book he opened was a collection of photos of Harry's parents.
James Potter and Lily Potter.
Harry's mouth fell open as he turned the pages one by one.
Hagrid spoke, looking a bit sheepish.
"I figured you might not have seen any pictures of your parents, so I contacted their old classmates and made this for you. It got delayed for one reason or another, so I could only give it to you now."
Although Harry had already seen photos of his parents at the Black Manor, he still seemed to love the gift.
Looking at the photo album over Harry's shoulder, I raised one corner of my mouth in a smirk.
Because in every single photo, Sirius Black had been cut out.
From what Sirius had told me, the four of them, who called themselves the Marauders, were always together during their school days. Yet, in the album, all the photos of James Potter showed him with only two other friends.
It was likely Hagrid's own way of being considerate, hoping Harry wouldn't find out about Sirius Black.
Though it stemmed from a misunderstanding, Hagrid's kind heart was certainly worthy of respect.
Harry seemed to have noticed as well, as a playful smile formed on his lips. I could read his thoughts without even using Legilimency.
I could guarantee that little rascal was already planning to show Sirius this album and tease him with it soon.
Hagrid looked at Harry with a fond expression and said to us, "Harry, Aisen. Well, have a good holiday, and I'll see you next term. Look, your friends are calling you, so you'd better go."
At his words, we turned around and saw Ron and Hermione waving at us.
We said our goodbyes to the kind-hearted gamekeeper and boarded the train, which looked ready to depart at any moment.
*
*Kee-roo-rook!*
*Grrrrr.*
The cries came as soon as we boarded the train and found a compartment with our friends.
It was the voices of Ardeura and Hedwig.
Ardeura, disguised as a parrot to avoid attention, flew over to me and gently nibbled my ear, as if expressing her affectionate complaint.
"Ow, ow. Alright, I'm sorry. Ah, that hurts, go easy on me."
Except for the few times I had skipped class in the Room of Requirement because I didn't feel like attending, it was true that I hadn't paid much attention to Ardeura and Deek. I meekly accepted my punishment.
Harry asked, "Master, come to think of it, where's Deek?"
"He said he was going ahead to check on our lodgings in London. He'll probably come to meet us at the station."
"Ah." Harry nodded.
Meanwhile, Ron looked downcast, his eyebrows drooping as he looked at Ardeura the parrot and Hedwig the owl. (TN: Hedwig is a dragon in this story, but Ron perceives her as an owl.)
"I'm jealous. I wanted to raise an animal too."
As he spoke, Ron patted his empty pocket.
It was, of course, because his pet rat, Scabbers, was gone. To be more precise, I had kidnapped Scabbers and the magical dummy I'd created in his place had disappeared.
Of course, considering Scabbers' true identity, it was fortunate for Ron that he was gone before he learned the truth.
For the record, Scabbers was currently safe inside my carrier. At Harry's suggestion, the rat was now tied up in a cage with a pretty ribbon, a gift for Harry's godfather, who was said to be going mad from not receiving a Christmas present.
No matter how much he wanted a Christmas gift, he would surely forget all about it the moment he saw this rat.
"Ah, my mum will probably kill me when she finds out I lost Scabbers."
Regardless of the truth, Ron was moping about the disappearance of the dummy Scabbers.
Seeing this, Hermione spoke with an interested expression.
"I wanted to raise a magical creature too, but I couldn't even bring it up because I'm sure my Muggle parents would be terrified if they saw me raising an owl."
She then held out a few nuts in her hand. Ardeura considered for a moment before gracefully accepting one.
Seeing this, Harry offered some nuts to Hedwig, but Hedwig turned her head, refusing to eat. Did Harry forget that Hedwig was a dragon, offering her nuts like that?
I asked Hermione, "If birds are too much, what about something like a cat? Muggles raise cats all the time."
"But a cat seems a little too ordinary, since I'm getting a pet anyway."
"If you look carefully, you can find many cats that are part magical creature. I've even seen a cat whose fur glows in the dark at night."
Hearing this, a spark of interest lit up in Hermione's eyes.
"Really? Where can I see one?"
"You can probably find one in Diagon Alley."
"Really? Then I'll look for one when I go to buy my supplies for next term!"
*Tap, tap.*
Ardeura clicked her beak, demanding more nuts from Hermione, as if to say, 'Never mind cats, focus on me.'
Honestly, why was this phoenix acting like a real parrot?
After talking like that for a while, the scenery outside the window began to change from the lush green countryside to a cityscape with gray, gloomy smoke blanketing the sky.
*Hiss! Hiss!*
Having arrived in London, we got off the Hogwarts train and saw a crowd of people welcoming the students.
"Ron! Fred, George! Percy! Over here!"
"Oh my goodness, Mum! Look over there! It's really Harry Potter!"
Turning our heads toward a particularly loud voice, we spotted a group of red-haired people.
The Weasley family. I was once again impressed by the power of the red-hair gene, which hadn't faded at all in a hundred years.
Seeing them, Ron covered his face in embarrassment and said, "Ah, honestly. Guys, I think I have to go. If you want, come visit anytime during the holidays! I'll write!"
Ron waved at us hastily and hurried toward them with his carrier.
*"Oppa! Are you really friends with Harry Potter?"*
*"Of course."*
*"Ronald Weasley, where is Scabbers?"*
Leaving the voices of the Weasley family behind us, we stood there for a while before Hermione spoke to us awkwardly.
"Um... your parents aren't here, are they?"
The reason Hermione probably struggled to say those words was that she had read history books and knew, at least roughly, the fate of the Potter family who had opposed Voldemort. It was a well-known fact that Harry's parents had died fighting Voldemort, and considering the family had been wiped out since then, my position as a distant Potter relative wouldn't be much different.
Seeing my faint smirk, Hermione seemed to misinterpret it and quickly tried to explain herself.
"No, I mean, if... if you don't have anyone to go with..."
Harry must have found it amusing, as he smiled and said, "Someone's coming to pick us up, so you don't have to worry."
"Oh, r-right! That's a relief."
Hermione fanned her face with her hand, her eyes darting around.
Just as Harry had said, Deek approached us a moment later. Since there were Muggles here, he was disguised as a human butler, not a house-elf.
"Master, young master. Deek apologizes for being late."
"It's fine, it happens. Did you book the hotel?"
"Of course, Master."
"Hermione, we should get going. It looks like your parents are over there. Write to us, and see you next time!"
Hermione, who had turned her head to confirm her parents' presence, waved at us and said, "Aisen, Harry! See you in Diagon Alley!"
*Kee-rook!*
*
After arriving at the lodgings Deek had arranged, we quickly washed up and rested. No matter how comfortable a train was, it couldn't compare to a bed.
After lying down for a while, I waited until Harry was asleep before getting up.
I casually put on my cloak and, as usual, took both of my wands. Without a word to anyone, I left the hotel and Apparated.
Even though Voldemort had been defeated, the incident wasn't over.
There was one more thing left to do to truly conclude the year at Hogwarts.
Feeling the presence of the stone in my cloak, I Apparated to Paris, France.
Since I had been there once before, Apparating wasn't too difficult, aside from the fact that long-distance Apparition put some strain on my young body. But it was a necessary precaution for a matter that required such security.
After a short walk through the summer streets of Paris, I soon arrived at a familiar house.
A shabby-looking house with old, white exterior walls. It was the home of Nicolas Flamel.
*Knock, knock.*
I knocked on the door and called out to my friend.
"Nicolas! I've brought something for you!"
...But strangely, the house remained silent. Feeling that something was wrong, I realized that there was no warmth coming from inside the house at all.
Had he gone out?
Puzzled for a moment, I soon noticed that the door looked slightly different from the last time I had seen it.
The door to Nicolas's house, fitting for an alchemist, was decorated with all sorts of symbols, but now, a character was missing from an equation written next to the doorknob.
Following my memory, I drew an Omega in the empty space with my finger.
*Thunk.* There was the sound of something moving, and a moment later, a brick on the floor opened, and a mailbox rose up.
I soon realized there was a letter stuck in the mailbox.
Seeing the crest on the letter, which gave me a strange sense of déjà vu, I knew the sender was Nicolas.
Why was a letter written by Nicolas in his own mailbox?
I reached out and took the letter. And seeing the recipient's name, my eyebrow twitched.
-To Aisen Knightly.
Because my name was written there.
My keen intuition already giving me a premonition, I opened the letter with trembling hands.
[My dear friend, Aisen Knightly,
Greetings, my friend. As it happens, I have just received word from Albus that the matter has been concluded.
Is it not a cruel irony? The one who sought the Stone to gain life has instead become more wretched.
If my thinking is correct, you should be reading this letter around now. A man as responsible as you would surely come to give me the Stone in person, and a man as observant as you would surely find this letter. What do you think, this old man's powers of deduction are still quite sharp, are they not?
In any case, by the time you read this, my wife and I will have departed on a long journey.
Ah, we have not yet journeyed to death, so there is no need to worry.
Though, of course, that will happen soon enough.
I believe you already understand my feelings. The distorted time created by the Philosopher's Stone, the friends who have vanished. And the meaningless obsession with eternity.
Paradoxically, the Dark Lord, a wizard of death, taught me how to live. This past year, spent away from the Philosopher's Stone, has been a truly fulfilling one for me. It's a funny thing, I only became a sage after being freed from the Sage's Stone.
(TN: The Korean word for "sage" (현자) is the same as the one used for "philosopher" in "Philosopher's Stone" (현자의 돌).)
In any case, I no longer have need for that stone. I already have enough time to put what remains of my life in order. My only regret, as I have told you before, is that I could not spend more time with you. It is that regret that has led me to leave this letter.
Aisen, in the Mirror of Erised, I saw myself as someone who had never invented the Philosopher's Stone. The me in that reflection had neither gold nor fame, but he was smiling happily, surrounded by friends. I was longing for a past that I regretted.
But do you know what's funny? When I faced the Mirror of Erised again after giving the Stone to Albus, it showed me something different. It showed an old version of me, enjoying the present with my wife! In the end, what I needed wasn't a changed past, but a new present.
Do not long for the past too much. Longing for the past only turns the present into another past.
Aisen, do not make the same mistake I did. Do not look back at the past; live in the present.
The Philosopher's Stone is a gift. A gift to a friend I made at the end of my life.
Please use it well.
Unlike this old alchemist, I am sure you will be able to make good use of it.
Well then, I wish you a happy journey.
From the alchemist racing toward the end of his life, Nicolas Flamel.]
I stared at the letter for a long time before carefully folding it and putting it inside my cloak. The Philosopher's Stone was still in my possession.
***