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Chapter 690: King’s Cross Station, the Nervous Aurors
🕑 Added 2025-04-10 11:07:05 +0000 UTCBecause of Dumbledore's words at the end of the dinner, the atmosphere on the Hogwarts Express the following day was markedly different. The usual laughter and joy had been replaced by a subdued heaviness.
However, there were exceptions.
“Quick, help us decide which jackets to wear!”
On the train, Fred and George Weasley held up two jackets in contrasting colors, scrutinizing them intently.
“We bought them in Hogsmeade…”
“We were planning to wear them when the Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes opens…”
“To make a grand entrance…”
“They're both made of the finest dragon-hide, and they cost us a fortune!”
Fred’s voice carried a faint note of melancholy, making it clear the jackets were no trivial purchase.
“Black, I guess,” Kyle said, glancing up. “Black is more dignified.”
“But we think green is nice,” George countered, hesitating slightly. “We’re running a joke shop, so we don’t exactly need to look solemn. Black seems more fitting for parties or negotiating major deals…”
“You’ve even thought that far ahead?” Cho raised an eyebrow, her tone incredulous.
Their shop hadn’t even opened yet, and they were already planning for parties and business negotiations?
“It’s only a matter of time,” Fred replied confidently. “We might even buy Zonko’s someday and open another branch in Hogsmeade.”
“Well, good luck with that.”
Cedric couldn’t help but let a small smile tug at the corners of his mouth, though he quickly composed himself. “But I do think black is the better choice. You’ll get more use out of it.”
“Really?”
Fred and George exchanged a puzzled glance. Still, since Cedric and Kyle had both said so, they donned the black jackets.
The results were striking. The jackets, clearly expensive, made them look far more polished than their usual school robes. Fred and George now exuded an unexpected air of professionalism—almost like office elites.
“Kyle, what are you grinning at?” George asked, frowning as he caught sight of his twin across the compartment.
“The jackets fit perfectly; there’s nothing funny about them.”
“I was just thinking of something amusing,” Kyle replied, doing his best to suppress a smirk. “You should ask Mr. Weasley for his opinion. He might give you a more... objective view.”
“Ask Dad?” Fred considered the suggestion for a moment before shaking his head lightly. “Forget it. He’s at the Ministry all the time and barely gets to visit Diagon Alley twice a year. What would he know about opening a joke shop?”
“But he does know what to wear to the Ministry,” Kyle teased.
“Haha, yeah, and we’d just do the opposite of what he says!”
Fred and George dismissed Kyle’s comment as a poor joke and slipped into their second jackets.
Cedric, who knew the truth of Kyle’s amusement, had to pinch his thigh hard to keep from laughing aloud.
Suddenly, a loud clattering echoed from outside the compartment, interrupting their banter.
“What are those kids up to now?” Fred said mockingly.
Cedric, however, had already opened the compartment door to investigate. Despite having graduated, he still bore the responsibilities of a Head Boy and was obligated to maintain order on the train until it reached King’s Cross Station.
"It's fine!" George suddenly patted Kyle on the shoulder, though it seemed he wasn’t sure what exactly to associate with.
“When school starts again, you'll be the only Head Boy.”
Kyle blinked, momentarily thrown by the statement. He remembered being named Senior Assistant and Head Boy, though it had hardly been a significant experience. He’d left most of the responsibilities untouched, and Cedric had never stepped down from the position, so the title had almost slipped his mind.
“I really wish Cedric could graduate a year late,” Kyle said, rubbing his forehead. Over the past two years, he had managed to delegate most of his Prefect duties to Cedric, not to mention all the additional work tied to being Head Boy.
If only I’d known, I wouldn’t have let him take that job at the Ministry, he thought ruefully.
“Hey...” Fred snickered. “You know, if Cedric got all T's in his N.E.W.T.s, he might actually have to repeat a year.”
George laughed. “Even Ron couldn’t get all T's!”
“Maybe Cedric could…”
The twins exchanged a knowing glance before bursting into laughter.
Kyle ignored their teasing and trailed behind them as they left the compartment.
It wasn’t hard to locate the source of the commotion. All they had to do was follow the crowd gathered further down the train.
When Kyle arrived, he found Justin Finch-Fletchley and Susan Bones animatedly explaining something to Cedric.
“They started it…” Justin was saying, his voice brimming with indignation. “I heard it all from my compartment. They were picking on Harry. We can’t just let that slide—we’re all in the DA!”
“You’re right,” Hannah Abbott agreed angrily. “They’re horrible! They said they were going to knock Harry unconscious and leave him on the luggage rack!”
Kyle, now closer, instinctively glanced up at the luggage rack. There, tightly bound and writhing in their school robes, were five figures resembling oversized slugs.
“Well... we just followed their advice,” Susan mumbled, her gaze darting away.
Kyle vaguely remembered her mentioning a desire to teach some Slytherins a lesson not too long ago.
“Who are they?”
“Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle...” Mikel offered immediately.
“And Pansy and Millicent,” Susan added.
Well, that explains it, Kyle thought. Same people as always.
Ever since Voldemort’s return had been made public, that particular group had been openly gleeful, laughing louder than anyone else at every grim announcement. It was precisely this kind of behavior that had incensed Mikel and Susan. He even recalled them discussing whether to blindfold the Slytherins and give them a taste of their own medicine.
Kyle glanced back up at the luggage rack. True to their word, they had carried out their plan.
Meanwhile, Ron and Harry had arrived to check on the situation and were doubled over with laughter.
“I’d bet Lucius was definitely at the Ministry of Magic that day,” Kyle remarked as they returned to the compartment. Harry and Ron followed him, still chuckling. Kyle’s tone was resolute. “I saw him. That platinum blonde hair—it’s unmistakable.”
“Malfoy must’ve wanted revenge because of that,” Ron said with disdain. “The coward.”
“I wish he’d come after me,” Kyle said with a shrug. “But unfortunately, he won’t.”
“Unless he’s gone completely mad,” Harry quipped, grinning as he glanced toward the luggage rack in Kyle’s compartment. He half-expected to see the distinctive suitcase, but it wasn’t there.
It figured. Kyle wouldn’t leave something so dangerous lying around casually.
“By the way, what really happened that day?” Ron asked curiously. “Why does it feel like Malfoy and his lot have been avoiding you lately?”
Kyle didn’t immediately reply. Ron’s curiosity was understandable—when he and Hermione had rushed over that day, they’d both fainted before seeing what had occurred. By the time they’d woken up, they were already in the Hospital Wing.
"Nothing..." Harry replied, glancing briefly at Kyle before quickly looking away. "It's just that the headmaster and Kyle arrived in time to save us."
He wasn’t trying to hide anything from Ron and Hermione, but Kyle had made it clear he didn’t want the details shared. Besides, if Ron found out he had spent time with a Dragon and a Three-Headed Dog while unconscious, he might faint all over again.
“I see,” Ron said with a nod. “It’s a shame Dumbledore didn’t catch Malfoy. We could’ve sent him straight to Azkaban.”
“No use,” Hermione said, shaking her head. “The Dementors can’t be trusted anymore. A lot of them have joined You-Know-Who.”
“It’d still be nice to get a break,” Ron muttered, before his gaze fell on Fred and George. He squinted at their outfits. “Wait... what’s that made of?”
“The finest dragon-hide,” Fred said smugly, unzipping his jacket a little to let the light catch the scaly pattern.
The shimmering texture glinted in the sunlight, leaving Ron wide-eyed with envy.
As the train ride continued, the atmosphere grew livelier with more students joining conversations.
Kyle couldn’t help but notice Harry glancing at Cho during his wizard chess match with Cedric. Each time, Harry would quickly look away, but it was obvious he hadn’t given up on her.
Kyle rubbed his chin thoughtfully, debating whether to warn Cedric about Harry’s lingering feelings. But he quickly dismissed the idea.
He felt bad for Harry, but realistically, there was no comparison. Cedric was superior in nearly every way. Perhaps being The Boy Who Lived gave Harry some edge, but it was clear Cho didn’t place much value on that.
Meanwhile, Hermione had approached Kanna with a thick Advanced Potion-Making book and a potion bottle in hand.
“Can you help me with this?” Hermione asked.
Kanna barely glanced at the book before pointing out the issue. “You’ve used too few sunflower petals, and you boiled it for less than a minute.”
“But the book says three petals,” Hermione said, puzzled. “I counted exactly three.”
“There’s a missing step in that book,” Kanna explained, not even looking up this time. “You’re supposed to mash the petals first so the juice mixes into the potion more effectively. If you skip that, you’ll need an extra petal to compensate.”
Hermione frowned at the book, clearly annoyed by the oversight, but said nothing.
“Aren’t you guys being a bit overdramatic?” Ron interjected. “It’s the holidays! Do you really need to be studying?”
“Why not?” Hermione shot back. “Even Headmaster Dumbledore said we need more knowledge to protect ourselves. We can’t use magic during the holidays, so potions are our best option. Having some healing potions on hand is definitely practical.”
“I don’t think Mum would like me lugging cauldrons around the house,” Ron grumbled.
“You’re wrong,” Fred chimed in. “Mum would love the idea.”
“She’d probably knock down a wall in the kitchen to make room for your cauldron,” George added with a grin.
Ron muttered something under his breath, likely searching for another excuse, but no one could make out what he said.
Next to him, Harry lowered his head, pretending to strategize his next chess move. Potions wasn’t exactly his favorite subject, second only to Umbridge’s Defense Against the Dark Arts in terms of sheer unpleasantness.
And there was another reason he wasn’t keen on potions during the holidays—he’d have to spend a month at Privet Drive before moving to 12 Grimmauld Place. His aunt and uncle would definitely lose their minds if he started brewing potions in their house.
Eventually, the train began to slow down, signaling their arrival at King’s Cross Station.
Kyle and the others had changed out of their wizard robes earlier, and as the train stopped, belching clouds of smoke, they disembarked, dragging their suitcases along.
The platform exit was crowded, with only two or three people allowed through at a time. It took about ten minutes before Kyle and the group finally made it outside.
The station was bustling with even more people waiting to greet them than the previous year.
Chris and Diana were there, along with the Weasleys, Moody—who had returned early last night—Tonks, Lupin, Sirius, and Kingsley. It was clear the latter group was primarily there for Harry, though they might’ve had other reasons for being so vigilant.
And then there was Newt Scamander.
For some reason, the legendary Magizoologist stood among the crowd, smiling warmly at Kyle.
“Oh, dear,” Diana exclaimed, enveloping Kyle in a warm hug. “How was school?”
“It was fine,” Kyle replied, though his attention was soon drawn elsewhere. He noticed an unusual number of Aurors and Hit Wizards scattered around King’s Cross Station, all eyeing Newt Scamander nervously as if he were a dangerous adversary.
“Why are you here?” Kyle asked Newt curiously.
“I was helping Dumbledore with a little trouble,” Newt replied with a smile. “And on my way back, I happened to pass by here, so I thought I’d stop in.”
“The... caretakers?” Kyle asked knowingly.
Newt nodded, his smile remaining warm but cryptic.
Behind them, Hermione, who had been chatting with her father, kept glancing at Newt with growing excitement. She suddenly whispered, “I just realized—that’s Mr. Newt Scamander! Oh my gosh, I can’t believe I’m actually meeting the legendary Magizoologist.”
“Scamander?” Mr. Granger asked, his tone doubtful. “Is he famous?”
“Everyone in the wizarding world knows him!” Hermione said enthusiastically, dropping to her knees to dig through her suitcase. “I want to ask him for an autograph… Where’s my copy of Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them? I know I packed it… Ah, here it is!”
She hurried over to Newt, clutching her book tightly. Newt, amused and gracious, happily signed it for her.
Nearby, Mrs. Weasley was busy hugging Fred and George, her happiness radiating as she smoothed down their new jackets with pride.
Meanwhile, Moody, Lupin, and Sirius were having a stern conversation with Vernon Dursley.
Vernon, red-faced and ready to explode, was cut off mid-rant when Moody removed his hat, revealing his glowing, magical eye. Vernon recoiled in terror, stumbling into a luggage trolley. His temper dissolved instantly.
“Let’s be clear,” Lupin said gently, though his tone left no room for argument. “If you refuse to let Harry use the communic—”
“The telephone,” Harry interrupted in a low whisper.
“Yes, that’s what I meant,” Lupin continued, nodding. “If we can’t get in touch with Harry, you’ll find yourself in very serious trouble.”
Whether it was the looming threat of these wizards or the shiny lump of gold the size of a bottle cap now in his hand, Vernon eventually grunted his agreement.
“Alright, it’s not safe to linger here. Let’s get moving,” Mr. Weasley said, gesturing for everyone to start packing up.
“Where are you headed?” Chris asked.
“The square,” Mr. Weasley replied vaguely. “Aren’t you?”
“No, we’re going straight home,” Chris shook his head.
“Do you need a ride?” Mr. Weasley offered. “We’ve got three cars this time.”
“No, we’ll Apparate back,” Chris replied.
“Alright then. See you tomorrow!” With that, Mr. Weasley and Sirius departed, leading the group of children.
Kyle scanned the crowd, ready to say goodbye to Kanna, but to his surprise, she was nowhere in sight.
“She didn’t leave the platform?” he asked, puzzled.
“She did,” Cho said. “I was with her.”
“Then where is she?”
As Kyle wondered aloud, Diana suddenly waved enthusiastically, her eyes catching someone in the crowd. “Hey, Severus! Is that you?”
Kyle followed her gaze and spotted a figure in a black cloak. The greasy hair and rigid posture left no doubt—it was Snape. And beside him, walking briskly, was Kanna.
Snape didn’t respond to Diana’s call, quickening his pace as if he hadn’t heard her.
Kanna, however, turned her head briefly, meeting Kyle’s eyes with a helpless shrug before hurrying to keep up with Snape.
