"Magical alchemy," Rowan thought as he stepped out of the car. "I really need to study it properly."
Less than twenty minutes after leaving the Leaky Cauldron, the enchanted vehicle stopped outside King’s Cross Station. Rowan declined Tonks’s offer to walk him inside and pushed his luggage trolley forward on his own.
The trip should have taken longer. London traffic had been a ss. But the Ministry car clearly carried advanced spatial enchantnts layered over alchemy. At one point, Aldo pressed a single button, and the entire vehicle seed to compress, slipping through gaps barely wider than a person’s shoulders.
Spells were impressive. Magical devices were even more so.
If he mastered alchemy one day, Rowan could refit the mutant school into sothing closer to Hogwarts itself. A place no one could enter without permission.
Platform Nine and Three-Quarters waited between Platforms Nine and Ten.
Rowan pushed the trolley straight into the barrier.
Instead of impact, there was resistance like passing through clear water. A mont later, the world shifted.
Steam filled the air. A long red engine dominated the platform, its side emblazoned with gold letters:
HOGWARTS EXPRESS — 11:00 A.M.
Rowan had read about the train in several history texts. If he wanted to truly understand magic and move comfortably through the wizarding world, history mattered. Many spells, wards, and counterasures only made sense once you knew how and why they were created.
The Hogwarts Express dated back to the early nineteenth century, built through cooperation between the Ministry of Magic, a Muggle engineer, and an entire railway workforce that never rembered what they’d helped construct.
It had required the largest coordinated use of mory Charms and Muggle-Repelling enchantnts in British magical history.
The idea ca from then-Minister Ottaline Gambol, who believed Portkeys were unsafe and uncomfortable for children. Steam trains, inspired by Muggle technology, were safer and far more controllable.
So pure-blood families had protested. The Ministry’s response had been simple: no train, no Hogwarts admission.
The argunt ended there.
The train ran six tis a year. Once on September first. Four tis for Christmas and Easter. Once again in June.
Because Rowan arrived early, the platform was calm. Only a few students and parents lingered amid drifting steam and scattered owl hoots.
He found a first-year carriage, chose an empty compartnt, and efficiently stowed his trunk overhead. Peggy’s cage went beside him, tucked into the corner.
"Sleep," Rowan murmured. "And don’t scare anyone."
Peggy blinked once and settled.
Rowan opened On the Importance of Foundational Magical Theory and began reading. The journey would take five to six hours. No reason to waste it.
Gradually, the platform outside filled. The hum of voices rose. Doors slid open and shut as students boarded.
"Wow... is that your pet?"
A boy with a cara hanging from his neck froze at the compartnt door, staring at Peggy with open awe.
"She’s huge."
He wheeled his trolley inside without waiting for permission, snapped several excited photos, then bead.
"I’m Colin Creevey."
"Rowan rcer," Rowan replied with a polite nod.
The na rang a bell. A boy obsessed with photography. And, later, with Harry Potter.
Colin sat beside him and imdiately launched into chatter. Rowan closed his book and listened.
Colin was Muggle-born. He had a younger brother nad Dennis. He’d spent his Diagon Alley money on a magical cara instead of an owl. His hero was Harry Potter, who had defeated Voldemort at eleven, as docunted in every history book Colin could find.
After a long monologue, Colin finally paused.
"I’ve been talking forever," he said, blinking. "I don’t know anything about you."
Rowan smiled faintly. "I’m an orphan. No family. Not much to tell."
Colin froze, then flushed with guilt. "Oh—sorry! Uh—your owl. What does she eat?"
Before Rowan could answer, a dreamy voice drifted in from the doorway.
"Eurasian eagle-owl. Found across Europe, Asia, and parts of Africa. Prefers mountains, forests, and open plains. Diet includes rodents, rabbits, and pheasants. Sotis reptiles."
Rowan and Colin turned.
A pale girl stood there, silver eyes unfocused, hair a soft golden-brown. She looked as though her thoughts were sowhere far away.
"They’re also believed to resist a basilisk’s gaze," she added calmly. "Along with phoenixes."
Rowan stared at her.
"That... wasn’t in the books," he said slowly.
Given what he knew about this year, that detail mattered more than almost anything else.
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