King's Cross Station

On the first morning of September, the sky over Essex County was impossibly blue.

The long-awaited sunshine put Gerald in a wonderful mood, too.

He had not had a single idle day in over a month.

He had kept up both his magic practice and his chain-form essence refinement, with only a few trips to the mountain stream to catch fish with Luke offering a rare chance to relax.

The results were plain to see.

His Levitation Charm could now lift a boulder weighing around three hundred pounds dozens of meters into the air.

He had also made some progress in Transfiguration and could now turn twigs into silver needles with practiced ease.

He had even managed to turn mice into teapots a few times, though Gerald would never dare use those teapots.

Besides, with his current magical power, he had no idea how long the transformation would last. It might turn back into a mouse halfway through a drink.

-That would certainly liven things up.

Gerald could not help chuckling at the thought.

By the time he loaded his old trunk onto Uncle Jack's secondhand pickup, the sun was already high in the sky.

Uncle Jack's wife, Aunt Mary, had come to see him off as well. Luke was probably still asleep.

His Hogwarts trunk had an Undetectable Extension Charm on it, making the inside far larger than it looked, yet it was still packed to the brim.

Besides his clothes, textbooks, and wand, it held more than a dozen jars of homemade jam and several large packages of smoked meat that Grandpa Henry and Aunt Mary had insisted on squeezing in.

"Take care of yourself while you're away."

Old Henry's voice trembled a little.

"Study hard there. As long as it's something you enjoy, that's all that matters."

He raised a hand to pat Gerald's head, only to realize the boy had already grown taller than him.

His hand paused in midair before finally settling on Gerald's shoulder and giving it a firm squeeze.

"I will, Grandpa."

Gerald bent down and hugged the old man.

"I'll be back for Christmas. I'll bring you some Butterbeer from over there. I've heard it's really good."

That drew a smile from Grandpa Henry. He stepped back and waved to Uncle Jack in the driver's seat.

"Jack, drive slowly."

"Don't worry, Dad. I could drive this route with my eyes closed."

Uncle Jack leaned halfway out of the window, his usual pipe clenched between his teeth, though it was unlit.

As the pickup started moving, Gerald looked through the rear window and saw Grandpa Henry still standing at the gate.

The morning light fell on his graying hair like a thin layer of frost.

"Don't worry. The old man's still fit as a fiddle. This is your first trip far from home, though, isn't it?"

"Yeah."

"London's huge. More than a hundred times bigger than our town. You know, Gerald, I used to drive your dad to London in this truck all the time."

He paused, then added something else.

"The first time Victor went to London, he got lost in Leicester Square for a whole hour. A police officer on patrol had to take him where he needed to go."

Gerald turned his head to look at Uncle Jack.

Uncle Jack rarely brought up this subject.

In the seven years Grandpa Henry had raised him, both Grandpa Henry and Uncle Jack had always avoided talking about his father, Victor Green, and his grandfather, Old Green.

All he knew was that his father and grandfather had died when he was four, and his mother had passed away a year later from overwhelming grief.

He had asked how exactly they had died, but no one had ever told him.

"Uncle Jack, my dad... what kind of person was he?"

Uncle Jack was silent for a while. He took the pipe from his mouth and set it in the storage compartment above the dashboard.

"Victor... he was a good man."

His voice was quieter than usual.

"He was always loyal to his friends, even as a kid, and he had plenty of guts. We grew up together, and most of the time, he was the one protecting me. Then he met your mum, and I stopped being the third wheel."

He smiled as he spoke, but the smile soon faded.

"Later, he moved to the city, and I stayed in town to farm. He came back every few months, always bringing my dad some good pipe tobacco from London. Then you came along. You were only this big back then."

Uncle Jack gestured with his right hand, keeping his left on the wheel.

Gerald remembered those things. After all, although he had only been a year or two old, he had possessed an adult's memories and mind.

The pickup drove steadily along the country road, fields rushing past on either side.

"I was the one driving that day, too." After a long pause, Uncle Jack suddenly spoke again.

Gerald froze for a moment.

"The day I took your dad and grandpa to London. Victor said he needed to take the old man into the city to sort something out, and asked me to drive them to the station."

"What happened after that?"

"After that..."

Uncle Jack's voice suddenly grew hoarse.

"After that, the police in London called your house. They said there'd been an explosion in the West End of London. More than a dozen people had died, and your dad and grandpa..."

Gerald's pupils abruptly contracted.

Eight years ago.

An explosion?

Uncle Jack clearly noticed Gerald's expression, and his own changed as well.

-Damn it, how could I tell the boy all this? Damn me!

"Gerald, don't dwell on what I just said. I shouldn't have told you about these things. You're off to school today. You should be happy."

He waved a hand, as though trying to shoo the subject away.

But a storm was already raging through Gerald's mind.

He was twelve this year. His father and grandfather had died when he was four.

Counting back eight years brought him to 1981.

The West End of London. An explosion.

What had happened in Britain around that time?

1981 was the year Voldemort had first reached the height of his power.

Darkness had shrouded the entire wizarding world. Death Eaters had run rampant, and even the Muggle world had not been spared.

Harry Potter's parents had been murdered that year, and he had become The Boy Who Lived.

Peter Pettigrew had faked his own death with a severed finger and the lives of a street full of Muggles, leading to Sirius Black's wrongful imprisonment.

Wait-

Peter Pettigrew had blown up a street.

Could his father and grandfather's deaths have something to do with that?

By the time the truck entered London's streets, Gerald had composed himself.

For now, he buried those questions deep in his heart.

Once he reached Hogwarts, he would have plenty of time to investigate.

Looking at the British buildings outside the window, Gerald's mood gradually improved.

Unlike his previous visit, when Professor McGonagall had brought him by Apparition, this time he was actually traveling through the city.

In either his previous life or this one, this was his first real visit to London, so naturally, it all felt rather novel.

"We're here. Need me to carry your trunk inside?"

Uncle Jack parked the pickup by the roadside outside the station and switched off the engine.

"No need, Uncle Jack. The trunk's enchanted, so it's much lighter than it looks. Besides, I'm stronger than you."

"Ha! That's true."

Gerald got out and unloaded his trunk from the truck bed.

"All right, then. Study hard at school, and stay out of trouble. Send me a message when you're coming back for Christmas, and I'll pick you up."

"I will, Uncle Jack."

Gerald dragged his trunk toward the station entrance.

After a few steps, he glanced back.

Uncle Jack was still standing there.

When he saw Gerald turn around, he grinned.

Gerald waved to him, then turned and walked into King's Cross Station.

Following the flow of people, Gerald soon reached the space between Platform Nine and Platform Ten.

The redbrick wall looked no different from those around it.

But Gerald knew an entirely different world lay hidden behind it.

He was just about to push his trolley toward it when he suddenly heard a boy's voice nearby.

"Dad, are you sure you're not joking? That's clearly a wall."

Gerald turned his head for a look.

The speaker was a boy around his own age, with dark hair and well-proportioned features.

A tall man stood beside him, looking down as he spoke to him.

"Be brave, Cedric."

Cedric.

Gerald's steps faltered slightly.

-Cedric Diggory?