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Chapter 381: The Train of a New School Year
🕑 Added 2025-05-31 14:28:07 +0000 UTCAs a thin morning mist settled over Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, the annual return to school arrived right on schedule.
Gradually, the golden rays of morning began to warm the old platform, and the lingering fog quietly melted away.
Of all the days in the year, today was the only one that made this ancient station feel truly alive again.
11:00 AM.
A long, echoing whistle pierced the sky, and the weathered steam engine began its warm-up routine.
At the same time, the previously relaxed students on the platform began to pick up their pace.
The volume swelled almost instantly—parents shouting last-minute reminders, pets making all kinds of noises, and kids scrambling about. It was the chaotic kind of mess that could only mean one thing: school was back in session.
Owls in particular were hooting in indignation, stuffed into rattling cages and clearly unimpressed with the situation.
Inside one of the train compartments, Ino reached out and casually shut the window, muting the growing din outside.
The clamor faded instantly, replaced by the quieter buzz of conversation within the compartment.
“You know, I was absolutely devastated. I couldn’t even bring myself to…” Ginny’s voice trembled slightly as she looked at Hermione, her eyes misty with emotion.
“It’s all in the past now! And look—I’m right here, aren’t I?” Hermione smiled warmly, reaching out to pat Ginny’s hand.
“Still, I totally bailed on you! I’d planned everything for last summer. I even had the shops picked out—Harrods and Selfridges…” Hermione’s voice held a hint of regret.
“It doesn’t matter. I’m lucky enough just to see you again,” Ginny said sincerely, shaking her head.
Compared to getting a friend back from the dead, shopping plans really didn’t matter much.
“Oh, right! Did you hear? Wonder Witch just dropped a new product line—let me tell you all about it…”
Thanks to Fred and George's ever-growing business empire, the Weasleys had finally shaken off their financial woes. And with her allowance no longer a joke, Ginny had become a regular customer at Wonder Witch—fluent in beauty potions, charm enhancers, and anything vaguely sparkly.
Let’s face it: very few girls don’t like looking good.
And if they don’t, it’s probably because poverty has vetoed the idea entirely.
As girls do, the conversation drifted smoothly from grief and near-death experiences… to makeup and fashion tips.
---
Ino, still seated beside them, glanced across the compartment, where Harry sat slouched against the window.
He looked like he hadn’t slept in days.
Dark circles clung beneath his eyes, and he had the tired expression of someone who’d spent the night being chased by angry bees—or worse.
If an adult saw him like that, they’d probably give him a knowing pat on the back and say something cryptic like, “Welcome to adulthood.”
But Ino knew the real cause—Snape’s potion.
Apparently, dissolving a soul fragment required a price, and Harry was currently paying it in the form of half-dead dreams and a face like cold leftovers.
The potion’s brutal “if-I-burn-you-out-you’ll-stay-dead” method was ugly, but effective. A clean, permanent solution—even if it looked downright insane.
Whether Harry would ever fully recover was anyone’s guess. But with Snape around, there was at least a sliver of hope.
Thinking of Harry naturally brought Ino’s thoughts to the remaining Horcruxes… and then, inevitably, to Dumbledore.
“WHOOOOO—”
As the last student boarded, the train gave another low, mournful whistle.
With a hiss and a groan, the old steam engine began its journey once again.
And with it, it carried a fresh load of bright-eyed young witches and wizards, heading toward the cloud-veiled, mysterious castle of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
Outside the window, rolling hills and patchwork fields stretched endlessly—classic English countryside in all its autumn glory.
Ino opened the window again.
The cool, crisp breeze rushed in, stirring his hair and carrying with it the earthy scent of the changing season.
The small compartment was now full. Hermione and Ginny were still deep in conversation, filling in a year and a half’s worth of girl talk as if they’d never stopped.
Harry, meanwhile, had already dozed off again, his head tilted back, breathing softly.
Feeling the wind against his face, Ino closed his eyes too.
But unlike the others, his mind wasn’t at peace.
To be honest, Ino still didn’t fully understand Dumbledore’s behavior.
After Hermione’s incident, the old headmaster had all but vanished—as if he were hiding from his own conscience. No private meetings, no public appearances. He’d gone full ghost mode.
But when Ino really thought about it, Dumbledore hadn’t done anything blatantly wrong. Assuming the original story no longer applied, two major points stood out.
First of all, Dumbledore wasn’t stupid. And from a purely pragmatic standpoint, he had nothing to gain from the situation with Crabbe.
Dumbledore’s ultimate goal had always been the complete destruction of Voldemort—not revenge, not pride. Peace for the magical world. Hogwarts was just the battlefield.
Seen through that lens, a lot of things suddenly made sense.
Besides, after Ino met Hans and had a proper conversation with him, he was more certain than ever that Dumbledore wasn’t behind it.
Hans was like one of those Grimm brothers—but with more time-travel and fewer talking animals. When he wrote the ending of a story, the events leading up to it would rearrange themselves accordingly.
If the original “trigger” in Hogsmeade didn’t work—say, Voldemort’s visit—then fate would toss in another one to make sure the story ended the way Hans wrote it.
Hermione’s attack and death became the second trigger.
And when Ino used the dice, he essentially forced the story to line up with Hans’ predicted result.
“Cough! Cough! Cough…”
Suddenly, Harry sat up with a start, coughing like he’d just inhaled half a lake.
“Another nightmare?” Ginny immediately moved to his side, gently patting his back.
“Yeah… but it wasn’t as bad this time,” Harry wheezed, still looking shaken.
Ever since taking Snape’s potion two weeks ago, his dreams had become nightly horror shows. Death by fire, drowning, monster attacks—you name it. Compared to some of them, today’s watery demise was practically a lullaby.
Ino, hearing the coughs, suddenly recalled a detail he’d nearly forgotten.
He’d discussed it once with Dumbledore at Grimmauld Place.
The difference between divination and prophecy.
Grindelwald locating the Horcruxes—that was divination.
Hans writing the ending in his storybook—that was prophecy.
And Harry… well, he had a prophecy hanging over him too.
Maybe that’s why Snape had hinted—ever so subtly—that Dumbledore was acting suspiciously.
Not that Snape was wrong, Ino thought. Honestly, if he’d been in Snape’s shoes, without knowing the full story, he’d have been suspicious of Dumbledore too.
After all, what happened in Godric’s Hollow really was awfully convenient.
The train chugged on steadily.
Now that Harry was awake, the conversation in the compartment drifted back to familiar topics.
“Ron?” Ginny scoffed. “Good luck with that—he’s got his shiny new prefect badge and acts like royalty now. He practically moved into the prefects’ carriage.”
Hermione giggled behind her hand. “So the dragon-slayer’s turned into a dragon himself?”
“Exactly!” Ginny said, rolling her eyes. “Funny how he used to mock Percy for doing the exact same thing.”
