Somehow—against all logic—Alexander Chen ended up enjoying the train ride.
It started small.
Cho Chang talked. Constantly. About everything.
She complained about how British wizard sweets were either too sweet or actively trying to kill you. Alexander countered with American candy being superior because it didn't pretend licorice was a personality trait. She accused Americans of being loud. He accused the British of being emotionally repressed and calling it "polite."
It escalated quickly.
"Why do all British wizards act like tea fixes everything?" Alexander asked.
Cho shrugged. "Why do Americans think explosions solve problems?"
"…Okay, that one's fair."
They talked about their parents, too.
Cho rolled her eyes. "My mum keeps reminding everyone I'm half-blood like it's a fun fact."
Alexander snorted. "Mine insist I'm 'representing both cultures.' Like I'm a walking diplomatic mission."
"Do your parents also expect perfect grades and perfect manners?"
"Yes."
"Same."
They stared at each other for a moment, then laughed.
By the time the countryside darkened and the train slowed, Alexander realized something unsettling.
He wasn't annoyed anymore.
The train finally screeched to a stop, and voices filled the corridors.
Cho leaned toward the window. "Is this it?"
Alexander looked.
And froze.
Hogwarts rose in the distance like something torn straight from a legend—towering spires, glowing windows, stone walls older than common sense. The Black Lake reflected the castle's lights, rippling softly under the night sky.
"…Okay," Alexander admitted quietly. "That's… impressive."
Cho smiled, clearly pleased. "See? Not so bad."
Students poured onto the platform, buzzing with excitement. A massive figure appeared through the mist, lantern held high.
"First years! This way! Follow me!"
Alexander squinted. "Is that a half-giant?"
Cho nodded. "Apparently, his name's Hagrid."
They were guided down a narrow path until boats came into view, bobbing gently on the lake. Four students per boat.
Alexander and Cho ended up together, the boat drifting forward as Hagrid's voice echoed across the water.
"No magic on the lake!"
The castle grew larger with every stroke of the oars, looming overhead until Alexander had to crane his neck to see the highest towers.
For the first time since leaving New York, something inside him settled.
They docked and followed Hagrid up stone steps, stopping before enormous wooden doors.
"This is it," Cho whispered.
Alexander stared at the entrance to the Great Hall—ancient, imposing, and full of destiny he didn't trust.
He crossed his arms.
"Just remember," he muttered. "Ravenclaw."
Cho smirked. "You really won't let that go, will you?"
"Nope," he said confidently. "Sorting Hat is racist."
The doors creaked open.
And Hogwarts waited.