Translated Chapter
324. A Peaceful Train Journey
Red’s train glided across the open plain, its rhythmic clatter echoing through the carriages like a steady heartbeat. The interior swayed gently with each turn of the wheels.
Midway through the journey, Wade stepped into the restroom. When he returned to his compartment, he noticed something unusual—the corridor was eerily quiet. Fewer students than usual lingered in the aisles.
In past years, the space would buzz with laughter and movement: students flinging open compartment doors, running to greet friends after the long summer break, the Weasley Twins hawking their holiday inventions, and Malfoy trailing behind with his cronies, always seeking trouble for Harry.
But this time, the corridor was still. Most compartment doors remained tightly shut. As Wade passed by, he heard bursts of laughter from within—and a man’s voice, innocent and curious, asking, “Why did you paint butter on your face? Oh… Moses smelled roses…”
Wade understood at once. The silence wasn’t due to shyness or fatigue. Everyone was hiding inside their compartments, glued to the television.
Wade stood by the window, gazing out. Thick clouds had swallowed the sunlight entirely, and the distant mountains had blurred into gray mist. Soon, rain began pattering against the windows—soft, steady, almost soothing.
The corridor lights flickered on, turning the train’s glass into a dark, reflective mirror. Wade could no longer see the world outside. All he saw was his own reflection.
A student dashed past, then returned moments later with a quick, nervous stride. He gave Wade a strange glance, said nothing, and bolted into his compartment.
A few minutes later, Michael appeared beside him.
Michael stared at the glass for a long moment, then asked, “Wade… what are you looking at?”
“Nothing,” Wade replied.
“Then why are you staring?”
“I thought… maybe I’d see something.”
“What?”
“In half an hour, we’ll be arriving at Hogwarts, right?”
“About that.”
“Never mind,” Wade said, turning away. “Let’s go back. It’s getting cold out here.”
“Finally!” Michael muttered. “I was starting to worry you’d zoned out in the corridor. I thought something had happened!”
Wade returned to the compartment. From afar, he saw Liam and Theo already peering out, smiling when they spotted him. He couldn’t help but smile back. His gaze drifted once more toward the endless, inky darkness beyond the glass.
The train didn’t stop. Rain streamed down the windows like liquid silver, but no frost formed. The temperature didn’t drop.
This time, even though three prisoners had escaped, no Dementors appeared to intercept the Hogwarts Express.
Perhaps the Ministry of Magic didn’t believe Peter Pettigrew had the courage for a final act of vengeance. Or maybe Dumbledore’s presence—stronger and more resolute than in the original timeline—was enough to keep Fudge from acting rashly.
The train rolled into the station smoothly. The doors hissed open, and students poured out in a rush, followed immediately by complaints.
It was still raining. The platform was muddy and slick, with patches of ice forming in the shadows.
Wade raised his wand. A ripple of invisible magic spilled from its tip, spreading into the air. Instantly, a translucent, glowing umbrella materialized above him, shielding the space around him from the downpour.
Michael shot forward like a bullet, dragging Padma with him, and dove under the protective canopy. “Phew! I left my umbrella in my suitcase—completely forgot to bring it!”
Padma grinned. “Thanks, Wade. I’ve got makeup on today—I’d hate to ruin it.”
Padma’s sister, still holding her arms crossed, stepped in awkwardly, trying to make conversation. “Wade… what’s that spell?”
“Rain Umbrella Unfold…” Wade began.
He hadn’t finished the incantation when the umbrella’s canopy expanded slightly—only to be immediately crowded by more people.
Wade sighed silently. Around him, grinning faces looked up with hopeful anticipation.
Then Hagrid’s booming voice rang out: “First Years, over here!”
Wade raised his free hand. Instantly, seven or eight leaves from a nearby tree burst into motion, swirling through the air before hovering before him. With a flick of his wand, he tapped each one in turn.
The green leaves unfurled, expanding rapidly. They bent and stretched, their stems twisting and lengthening until they formed perfect, hand-held umbrellas, their tips gently drooping.
With a swift gesture, Wade sent the leaf umbrellas flying toward his friends—those without shelter. They reached out eagerly, grabbing the leafy handles, and the space around Wade cleared instantly.
“Whoa—” A chorus of gasps and delighted whispers rose from the crowd, mixed with pure wonder.
“Is this real magic?” a boy with a bowl-cut haircut whispered, eyes wide.
Wade looked over. Dozens of first-years stood nearby, huddled under their hooded robes, clutching their damp clothes, their faces filled with envy and admiration as the leaf umbrellas floated through the air.
“Yes,” Michael said with a grin, plucking one from the air and placing it over Padma and her sister’s heads. It was large enough to shelter three people. He grabbed another and handed it to two young girls among the new students. “You’ll learn how to do this too, one day.”
“Liar!” a pale-faced girl with a tiny pink umbrella suddenly snapped. “My sister’s just your age—and she can’t do this. She’s still carrying her backpack on her head!”
“Shut up, Astoria!” Daphne shot back, flustered and embarrassed. She was already soaked, her robes dripping, her backpack still perched awkwardly atop her head.
Astoria shrugged, smirking. “Told you to bring an umbrella. You forgot. What did I say?”
Daphne rolled her eyes and turned away, then dashed off toward the carriages.
Wade conjured a few more leaf umbrellas and passed them to the first-years. The children clapped and thanked him, their fingers gripping the leafy handles like scepters—proud, glowing with wonder.
Astoria eyed the clear, translucent leaves for a moment, then slipped under one. She reached into her pocket and handed her small pink umbrella to Wade.
“I don’t need this anymore,” she said. “Can you give it to Daphne? Carrying that backpack all day is tough.”
A brief silence. Then Michael took the umbrella with a smile. “Sure thing.”
Astoria’s eyes swept over the scarves hanging around the necks of the older students—Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, Gryffindor. No Slytherin.
She smiled. “Thanks… you’re really kind.”
Hagrid, a towering figure in the dark like a massive black bear, led the trembling first-years away. Meanwhile, Wade and the others headed for the carriages.
As they passed the noisy line of carriages, Michael spotted Daphne. With a flick of his wand, he sent her umbrella flying through the rain.
The sound of the storm drowned out any thanks. But Daphne caught it, opened it above her head, and stepped under it—though her robes were already soaked.
Her friend Pansy had brought an umbrella too—but she stayed glued to Malfoy’s side, her own robes smeared with mud. She never even glanced at Daphne.
“She’s actually kind of sweet,” Hermione said suddenly. “Unlike Pansy’s crowd.”
“Still,” Ron said with certainty, “she’ll end up in Slytherin. Wait a month—she’ll be just like the rest.”
(End of Chapter)
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