As they began to pass non-magical towns (Alexandra still refused to use the term 'Muggle'), all their wizards clothes went in their trunks, being replaced by jackets, coats and jeans. The arrival at King's Cross Station was really difficult: there were trunks, wizards and owls everywhere, and with only one exit hidden behind a magical barrier, it took quite a while for Hermione and Alexandra to go through the magical portal. Nigel was already gone, a very dangerous looking old man with a lot of scars, certainly his grandfather, had come to search him and teleported away in an instant.
"You should come at my home this summer," said Hermione, "both of you – I'll send an owl to Nigel and a letter to you."
"Thanks," said Alexandra. "If the Dursleys prove unbearable, expect to see me next week." The sad part was that she was only half-joking.
People jostled them as they moved forwards towards the gateway back to the normal world. Not that many cared Hermione or Alexandra were there. The exclamations and shouts had another target:
"Bye, Neville!"
"See you, Longbottom!"
"Who are we compared to the famous Boy-Who-Lived?" Asked rhetorically Hermione in an acid tone. Neville and the rest of the first-years Gryffindors forcing her to follow them in the forbidden corridor had left a deep resentment in the normally calm bushy-haired girl.
If Alexandra was the Boy-Who-Lived, she would walk on eggs next year.
"Not a lot," sighed Alexandra," but see the positive side: unlike him, we still have a brain in working order."
She and Hermione passed through the gateway together. As Neville had passed before them less than a half-minute ago, the two girls were assailed by shouts of: "There he is, look!", including from a girl who appeared to be the younger member of the Weasley family.
"Neville Longbottom!" The red-haired girl shouted in excitement. Great a fan-girl, thought Alexandra. "Look, Mum! I can see –"
"Be quiet, Ginny, and it's rude to point." Said her mother, a round and plump woman with red hair.
"Ready, are you?"
It was Uncle Vernon, still purple-faced, still moustached, still looking furious at the nerve of Alexandra, carrying her trunk full of magical objects in a station full of ordinary people (although she had sent her owl Atalanta directly to Privet Drive so her perch had no bird coming with it). Behind him stood Aunt Petunia and Dudley, looking terrified at the very sight of Alexandra. Good. At least these two had a limited sense of self-preservation.
"Hurry up, girl, we haven't got all day." He walked away.
Alexandra hung back for a last word with Hermione.
"See you over the summer, then."
"Hope you have – err – a good holiday." Affirmed Hermione, looking uncertainly after Uncle Vernon, apparently shocked that anyone could be so unpleasant, even with Alexandra's warnings beforehand.
"Oh, I will," affirmed Alexandra with a wide smile on her face. "And if they don't, well, I have some money now. And plans to use it. I will go away from Privet Drive the time they calm."
Somehow, after the year she had lived at Hogwarts, the Dursleys didn't look so threatening anymore. Funny how magic changed your fears, wasn't it?
1st June 1992, Hogwarts, Scotland
Another year was gone. The students had finally left the school, all the hilarious traps and end of term's pranks from the Weasley Twins had finally been dealt with. Everything which had been forgotten by distracted students had been sent by owl to their homes.
Except the Senior Professors of every course taught at Hogwarts, Hagrid, the ghosts, Peeves and the house elves charged of the maintenance, every person living all the year in the castle had left. The teachers were going to depart too, including the Headmaster himself for several conferences of the ICW and the Wizengamot. For two and a half months, Hogwarts was going to be silent and abandoned. Until the teachers came back for another scholar year of course.
Filius Flitwick turned the corner of the corridor and emitted a loud groan when he saw the five large and heavy trunks sitting in front of his office. One of his mottos when he was young had been to travel light. This time was long over, considering all the trunks had considerable space-expansion Charms and other enchantments on them which allowed him to transport in each the equivalent of a large library and everything he needed for his life in Scotland nine months of the year. These days, he felt more and more like those old teachers who had retired when he just took the post of Junior Charms Professor, transporting the equivalent of a complete house everywhere with him.
I don't travel light anymore. I am getting too old for this.
This feeling had come back more and more times this school year. To be fair, it had hardly come as a surprise: with the third year of the Weasley Twins at Hogwarts and the chaos which went with it, plus the arrival of Neville Longbottom the famous Boy-Who-Lived and so many children of many prominent Light and Dark families, Filius had suspected a certain amount of conflict was unavoidable.
His darkest previsions, however, had really been so far off-track it wasn't even funny anymore. Not being content limiting themselves to the usual problems coming with Quidditch matches, Houses Gryffindor and Slytherin had spent most of their year fighting with each other, openly or no. It had been worse during the war eleven years ago, of course, but more in terms of lethal curses sent in the corridors than in terms of hostility. The Slytherins had rallied around the children of several blood-purists like Draco Malfoy, while the Lions were supporting the Defeater of Voldemort. "Slimy snakes" had been now the used way to name a member of House Slytherin, while those speaking against the Gryffindors used expressions like "Scarface sidekicks", "noble idiots" or "suicidal lions". Even House Hufflepuff, renowned for its loyalty, unity and solidarity, had seen a few of its members like the young Smith Heir taking sides in the inter-House conflict. Most of the Badgers had stayed out it, fortunately for the stability of Hogwarts.
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