Chapter 8

Kings Cross Station smelled like metal and movement.

And panic.

Harry stood on the platform beside Ivy, gripping the handle of a trolley that felt far too full for something that was supposed to carry their entire new life.

Petunia hovered a few steps behind them.

Vernon refused to come any closer than necessary.

Dudley had insisted on coming “for moral support,” which mostly meant he was eating sweets and looking offended by everything.

Ivy, as usual, was already scanning everything.

Signs.

People.

Trains.

Exits.

“How do we get through?” Harry asked quietly.

Ivy tilted her head.

“We walk at it.”

“That’s not a plan.”

“It is a plan.”

“It’s a bad plan.”

“It’s the only plan we’ve got.”

Harry glanced around.

Other families were moving through the station like it was normal.

No one looked worried.

No one looked like they were about to walk into a solid wall.

Ivy started forward.

Harry grabbed her sleeve.

“Ivy—”

She paused.

Looked at him.

“If this kills us,” he said, “I’m blaming you.”

She smiled.

“Noted.”

Then she walked.

Harry followed.

The moment came too fast.

The brick barrier loomed ahead of them.

Solid.

Immovable.

Ivy didn’t slow down.

Harry braced himself—

And then—

She was gone.

Just like that.

Harry stopped so abruptly he nearly crashed into someone behind him.

“What—”

“Oi!”

He turned.

Dudley was staring at the wall.

Petunia looked sick.

Vernon looked furious.

“Where did she—” Harry started.

Then he saw it.

The wall wasn’t solid.

It was gone.

Or rather—

It had opened.

Harry swallowed.

And pushed his trolley forward.

The moment he passed through, everything changed.

Noise hit him first.

Steam.

Colour.

Movement.

A red train stretched endlessly along the platform.

Hogwarts Express.

And standing just a few feet away—

Ivy.

Already there.

Already watching.

“See?” she said.

Harry stared at her.

“How did you—”

“I walked.”

“That’s not—”

“It worked.”

Harry had no reply for that.

Because it had.

⸻

Behind them, more families poured through.

Wizards.

Witches.

Owls hooted.

Trunks clattered.

Everything felt too loud and too alive.

Ivy leaned closer to Harry.

“This is better than Privet Drive.”

Harry looked at her.

“You say that about everything that isn’t Privet Drive.”

“That’s because Privet Drive is the baseline for disappointment.”

Harry snorted.

Then he saw them.

Students.

Laughing.

Arguing.

Waving goodbye.

All their lives stretching ahead of them.

Ivy noticed his stare.

“Scared?” she asked.

Harry thought about lying.

Then shook his head.

“Not really.”

She nodded.

“Me neither.”

That was a lie.

Harry knew it.

But he didn’t call her out.

Because he wasn’t telling the truth either.

⸻

The train whistle sounded in the distance.

Ivy grabbed her trunk handle.

“This is it,” she said.

Harry exhaled slowly.

“Yeah.”

She looked at him.

And for once, didn’t look like she had a plan.

Just like she was standing at the edge of something huge.

“Ready?” she asked.

Harry hesitated.

Then nodded.

“As I’ll ever be.”

Ivy grinned.

“Good.”

And together—

Harry and Ivy Potter stepped onto the Hogwarts Express.