As the train slowed, dusk settled in.
***
The fields outside the window disappeared, replaced by shadowy trees and rolling hills.
Hermione's page-turning slowed.
The tall figure hanging upside down, the flickering lights, and the pitch-black scenery outside the window all called to mind vampires and horror stories.
In Hermione's fluffy head, though, Harry wasn't an ugly vampire from some old-fashioned movie. He was more like the fashionable aristocrats of the night: polite, lonely, elegant, noble, devoted, and handsome as Count Dracula.
So much so that...
"Harry, when did you come down?"
Only when Ron said that did Hermione realize Harry had sat back down beside her.
"Down the stairs," Harry said. "We're almost there."
Hermione noticed Harry looking at her and shyly lowered her head, her heart fluttering.
"Why aren't you going out yet?"
Harry ruthlessly plunged a knife into her pink heart.
"If you don't go out, how are we supposed to change?"
Ron's words made her pink heart heal in an instant.
Blushing, Hermione pushed open the door. "I'll go now."
Crabbe and Goyle, sitting on the floor outside the compartment and snacking, jumped in fright.
Far away in underground London, Fudge jumped in fright, too.
It happened when he saw Peter Pettigrew's corpse.
"That wasn't during your term. Old Crouch did it, didn't he?"
With just that one sentence, Dumbledore instantly roused Fudge, who had been preparing to shirk responsibility.
If Scrimgeour, the strongest rival for his Minister's seat, ranked third in his mind, then Crouch ranked even higher.
"I'll send someone to Azkaban right now."
He looked at Umbridge, who was bowing and scraping behind him. "Immediately. Send Tonks to Azkaban and have her take Sirius to Hogwarts. They're relatives, and Harry must be desperate to see his godfather!"
"But that doesn't comply with the regu—"
"My word is the rule! Use money from my account to get poor Sirius a new outfit. He's the head of the Black family and Harry Potter's godfather. Make sure it's the best!"
"Yes, I'll go at once." Umbridge, like a pink toad, slunk away in disgrace, her eyes gleaming with nothing but a hunger for power.
Like a child showing off, Fudge lifted his chin toward Dumbledore, seemingly ready to receive a sweet or a compliment from him.
"What's that?"
Fudge, looking crestfallen at not getting what he wanted, noticed the notebook tucked under Dumbledore's arm.
"A gift. A gift from an old friend."
Excitement glittered in Dumbledore's azure eyes.
***
Hagrid's beetle-black eyes shone with excitement.
"Harry, Harry, come this way!"
On the cold platform, the towering Hagrid waved his lantern at Harry. "First-years, follow me."
"I mean this year's first-years... all the newcomers, follow me!"
"Finally..." Draco patted his chest, relieved to have escaped the watchful Slytherins.
Maybe I should get Sorted into Ravenclaw later?
No, my father would kill me!
Maybe I could become Harry Potter's underling, like Crabbe and Goyle!
"Harry, wait for me!"
He hurried to catch up with Harry's tall figure.
***
At last, Harry saw Hogwarts.
The castle stood alone atop a steep cliff, its lights gleaming; its reflection shimmered on the dark lake.
Ancient magic guarded the fortress and the students within.
Like Hagrid, Harry sat alone in a boat. He could feel that strange magic, which resonated with his name and his unique life frequency. For a moment, the magic knowledge already innate within him grew more active.
The Troll magic, as solid and weighty as a towering mountain, softened and took on the dampness of the Black Lake.
The purest silver-white blood boiled, answering the call of its kin in the Forbidden Forest.
The Love Charm, which had fallen dormant after being separated from its blood relatives and left to subsist on Harry alone, began surging again as Harry drew closer to the castle.
"Duck!"
Seeing the Ivy Curtain across the front of the cliff, Hagrid gave them an early warning.
But aside from Hagrid and Harry, no one actually needed to duck.
Draco and Ron, chattering in the same boat, lowered their heads. Then they realized that only Ron could just about reach the bottom of the curtain, and Ron started gesturing to show how tall he was, making them laugh.
Harry looked away and met Hermione's gaze as she stared up at him.
Harry ducked, and the boat carrying him entered the passage beneath the cliff, a pitch-black tunnel under the castle.
Ink-dark ripples shimmered. A huge shadow flashed by, then a face appeared in the reflection.
***
It was a deeply haggard face.
His skin was waxen white, his features sunken; only his eyes showed any life, wavering in the North Sea's choppy waters.
Umbridge stood to one side like a servant. Behind her stood a wizard dressed so flashily he was clearly a makeup artist, along with a wheeled clothing rack packed with splendid outfits.
"I really do need makeup and a change of clothes." Sirius rose from his knees on the reef, where he had been using the sea and the occasional flash of lightning as a mirror. "Otherwise, I'll frighten James."
"You're going to see Harry," Tonks said, looking at her great-uncle with pity.
"Harry's middle name is James, too." Sirius stubbornly lifted his chin.
The makeup artist was every bit the professional. With one wave of his wand, color returned to Sirius's face, and the grime vanished from his hair, skin, and teeth. His graying hair was tidied up, too.
***
Harry noticed Professor McGonagall trying to fix his hair with a look.
Among the students, who were practically sparkling, Harry alone stood out, his hair a mess.
But as soon as she remembered Harry's surname, she immediately abandoned the idea.
They had now reached the castle gates, after climbing a flight of stone steps.
But Professor McGonagall, as deputy headmistress, head of Gryffindor, and Transfiguration Class professor, didn't seem inclined to let them enter just yet.
"You've all been through a lot today."
"Someone cast a powerful Scourgify that's still working even now."
"The stars you heard about from your parents as children and read about in the papers appeared among you."
"A mass one-sided brawl, the likes of which hasn't happened in a century."
Professor McGonagall looked at Harry again.
"A corpse appeared in the carriage—a man we thought was a hero, but who was actually a traitor."
"But Hogwarts isn't like that. It's the safest place in the Wizarding World."
"There won't be any mass brawls here, no corpses, and certainly no deaths."
[[Grant the Professor Death](100 experience, Silver Magic Knowledge 3)]
[Sad Two-Face can no longer be saved. Savior Lord, please grant him the greatest mercy—death.]
As if it had heard the key words, a quest popped up at just the right moment.
Harry continued to smile calmly.
"You can put your minds at ease and devote yourselves wholeheartedly to your studies, earning glory for your Houses."
"Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, Slytherin."
"The four Founders—and the names of the Houses."
"Come in." Professor McGonagall glanced once more at Harry's head, then finally gave up and turned her attention away. "Longbottom, straighten your tie. What happens next will be the only Sorting of your lives."
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