September 1st, 1993

  The morning sky over London was a cool grey, brushed with streaks of pale gold where the sun had begun to break through the clouds. A light breeze carried the scent of autumn leaves and chimney smoke, brushing gently against coats and jackets as people walked along the streets.

  Cars moved steadily through the narrow roads, buses hissed to a stop beside crowded pavements, and people hurried in every direction, holding coffee cups or checking their watches.

  Parents guided sleepy children toward school, tourists squinted at folded maps, and office workers rushed toward trains and underground stations. It was the kind of morning that felt like a fresh start—and it was, as schools were opening their doors for the start of a new academic year.

  At King's Cross Station, the pace only quickened. The air was filled with the sounds of trains coming and going, whistles blowing, and announcements crackling over the loudspeakers. Suitcases rumbled across the floor, and voices rose and echoed beneath the high ceiling, blending into the familiar chaos of a busy morning.

  Passengers hurried between the numbered platforms, weaving past one another—some bound for Edinburgh, others for Leeds or Newcastle. Most had no idea that, tucked quietly between Platforms Nine and Ten, there stood a stretch of wall quite unlike any other.

  To ordinary eyes, it was nothing more than brick and stone. People brushed past without a second glance, their attention fixed on tickets, luggage, or the morning paper. But if someone looked closely—very closely—they might have noticed something strange.

  A boy pushing a trolley loaded with a large trunk had just vanished straight through that very same, seemingly unremarkable wall. A moment later, a woman followed, her hand resting gently on the shoulder of another child carrying a cage with a snowy owl inside.

  No one seemed to notice. Every now and then, a similar scene would play out, yet to the rest of the station, nothing appeared out of the ordinary—as if some unseen force gently nudged their attention elsewhere, causing them to ignore it entirely.

  After all, there was magic at work here. This was the entrance to Platform Nine and Three-Quarters—a hidden gateway between the ordinary and the extraordinary, shielded by powerful enchantments that only a few could see and even fewer could understand.

  Stepping through it, everything changed. On the other side, the atmosphere was entirely different. The air felt warmer, livelier. The platform buzzed with movement and sound, full of the familiar charm of the magical world.

  The scarlet steam engine of the Hogwarts Express stood proudly on the track, releasing gentle puffs of smoke that curled into the bright September sky.

  Children in black robes weaved through the crowd, some dragging their trunks behind them, others levitating their luggage with a flick of their wands. There was a sense of urgency, but also excitement in the air.

  Just like schools across the country were opening their doors for a new term, so too was the school of magic. For young witches and wizards, this was the start of another year filled with spells, potions, and all manner of magical learning, and it began, as always, with this familiar scramble to board the train on time.

  A little farther down the platform, a nervous first-year clung tightly to her mother's hand, wide-eyed and silent as she took in the bustling scene around her. Not far off, a group of older students were already laughing and catching up, trading stories and thumping each other on the back like no time had passed at all.

  Parents stayed close, not quite ready to say goodbye. They adjusted robes, handed over packed lunches, and brushed away specks of dust that weren't really there. The whole platform buzzed with energy—quick hugs, last-minute reminders, and the usual jumble of farewells.

  By now, the crowd had grown into the thousands, with parents, students, and staff filling every corner of the platform. But not everyone here had come through the enchanted wall from King's Cross Station.

  Near the stone barrier at the far end, soft cracks sounded now and then—the quiet pop of people Apparating in. Many wizarding parents preferred to arrive this way, appearing out of thin air with their children clinging to their arms. Amid the hum of voices and steam, no one gave them a second glance. It was all perfectly normal here.

  And at that moment, at the far end of the platform, tucked away from the bustle and drifting steam, a similar soft crack echoed through the air. Two more figures had appeared—one tall, dressed in a long black coat, and the other a little girl with a satchel slung over her shoulder, still clutching the man's arm from their slightly bumpy arrival.

  The girl clearly did not look like she had just had a pleasant experience. She was half-crouched, coughing, and holding one hand to her head as if the world was still spinning.

  The man beside her, however, seemed rather amused. He stood calmly, waiting as she got her balance back. It did not take long. Once she straightened up, he gave her a pleased smile, said something quietly to her, and began walking toward the train.

  "I don't think I'll ever get used to that, Professor," she muttered, trailing after him. "I never want to do that again."

  The man chuckled. "Right, right... Let's find Harry and Hermione first."

  The girl perked up at the mention of the two familiar names, her eyes lighting up with excitement. She glanced around, taking in the scarlet steam engine and the lively scene on the platform.

  She was Jean Grey, of course, and the man beside her was Maverick, who had gone to the States to bring her here.

  Originally, he had planned to let her experience walking through the enchanted wall at King's Cross Station. But he had already told her there were two ways to reach Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, and Jean had been adamant about coming by the second option.

  She was probably regretting that decision now.

  ---

  Meanwhile, near the usual entrance to the platform, a group of boys and girls had just come through, most of them with the same unmistakable shade of red hair. The Weasleys had arrived, all together as usual, with Mr. and Mrs. Weasley flanking their children like bookends. Among them were two who didn't quite match the family look—Harry and Hermione, of course.

  "The sooner we get on the train, the better," Ron muttered, nudging Harry's arm as he quickened his pace. "I want to get away from Percy. He's been reminding me he's a prefect every single day, you know. Bloody annoying."

  And right on cue, the man in question strode past them, nearly knocking Ron aside as he puffed out his chest and called, "Penelope!" His voice was bright with importance, and he made sure his shiny new badge caught the light as he marched over to a girl with long, curly hair.

  "That's his girlfriend," Ron added, looking even more annoyed for some reason. "Come on, let's go," he said again, tugging at Harry's sleeve.

  Harry shrugged and followed without any protest, seeing that his friend had at least moved on now from losing that pet of his.

  But just as they took a few steps toward the train, Hermione jogged up behind them. "Wait, you two! Why are you in such a hurry?"

  "Ron wants to find an empty compartment before the train fills up," Harry said straightforwardly.

  Hermione crossed her arms. "Are you forgetting something?"

  Harry cocked his head. "Forgetting what?" And then he realized what she meant. "Right! Jean."

  "Yes. Jean. We're supposed to wait until Professor Caesar arrives with her."

  "The girl from America, right?" Ron asked them. Harry and Hermione had already filled him in on what he had missed while he was vacationing in Egypt. Needless to say, he wished he had gone too, but the time he spent with his family wasn't bad either, so he didn't sulk much.

  "There she is!" Hermione suddenly pointed across the platform. "Jean!" she called, waving excitedly before running over. The girl on the other side spotted her as well and ran toward her in return.

  "Did you learn any spells yet?" Hermione asked the moment they hugged. They looked a lot like sisters than friends in that moment, grinning wide and talking over each other.

  Maverick followed a few steps behind Jean. His purpose was simply to escort her to the station, not to travel with her all the way. "I'll leave her to you, then," he said with a nod to the trio. Turning to Ron, he added, "Mr. Weasley. Heard you had a fun summer."

  Ron smiled. "I did, Professor. Though I wish I could've joined them too."

  "Next time, then," Maverick told him. Then, turning to Jean one last time, he added, "Good luck, and I'll see you at school."

  He turned and left without drawing any attention to himself, making his way toward the train. No one around seemed to notice him—almost as if he wasn't even there.

  It was like when Muggles passed enchanted wards or walked right by a Notice-Me-Not Spell without ever realizing it—only in his case, both Muggles and wizards overlooked him, except, of course, the few like the trio he had revealed himself to on purpose.

  As for why he was boarding the train, it was simply to make sure things played out the way they had in the original story. There was a separate staff compartment near the front, and that was where he planned to stay—just resting during the trip, with no intention of interfering in anything.

  And things might not go exactly as they had in the original story. After all, Harry and Hermione weren't exactly pushovers anymore. They had already learned to cast the Patronus, at least partially—and that alone could change a lot.

  Meanwhile, Hermione had already taken the lead and was ushering Jean and the others onto the train.

  They checked the compartments one by one, looking for an empty one, but each seemed to already be occupied, with at least one student inside.

  Making their way toward the back, they continued searching and even passed a compartment where an adult man in shabby robes was fast asleep, slumped against the window with his face hidden behind a copy of the Daily Prophet. Deciding that wasn't the place for them either, they moved further down the corridor until, thankfully, they found an empty one near the end.

  As soon as they had settled into the compartment, Hermione turned eagerly to Jean.

  "Right, tell me everything you learned over the past month."

  "Seriously?" Ron groaned, slumping into his seat.

  "School hasn't even started yet, Hermione," Harry added as well, clearly having the same thought as his best buddy.

  Hermione either didn't hear them or simply chose to ignore them.

  Jean giggled at her enthusiasm and happily launched into a lively account of her past few weeks. The chatter filled the compartment, and soon Harry and Ron joined in as well. Hermione's new cat, Crookshanks, was curled up like a furry cushion under the table, looking perfectly content with the atmosphere.

  Finally, about half an hour later, the train gave a soft jolt and began to move, slowly pulling out of the station.

  —————————

  The Hogwarts Express let out a loud hiss, followed by a long whistle, and began its journey with a heavy lurch, its wheels clacking into a steady rhythm as it pulled away from the station.

  Inside the train, faces pressed up against the glass as windows flew open with a rattle of old frames and creaky hinges. Little hands waved out eagerly—some with big smiles, others, mostly the first-years, trying hard to hold back a few tears.

  Harry, seated beside the window, slid the glass halfway open as well, and leaned out to wave at Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. Ron squeezed in beside him and added his own energetic wave, while Hermione opened the window across from them to wave at her parents.

  They waved until the train curved gently around the bend, and soon the station disappeared from view in a cloud of smoke and distance.

  Harry slid the window shut and sat back in his seat. "Well… we're off," he said with a smile, inwardly looking forward to another year.

  If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

  "So, what do we do during the trip?" Jean asked, looking curious as she glanced around at the trio.

  "Sleep. And eat," Ron answered instantly, sinking deeper into his seat. "Mostly sweets. The trolley lady has some brilliant stuff."

  "Don't listen to him," Hermione shot him a sharp glare. Then turning to Jean, she said, "there's plenty we can do. Like a quiz! We can stick to first-year stuff to keep it easy."

  Harry rolled his eyes. "Don't say 'we,' Hermione. Besides, she literally hasn't even set foot in school yet."

  Jean gave an awkward smile as well. She, too, wasn't exactly looking forward to spending the ride buried in lessons, even if she was excited about learning all about magic.

  Harry picked up on her expression and quickly changed the subject. "So, who do you think the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher is going to be?"

  "Anyone but Lockhart," Ron muttered.

  "Or Quirrell," Hermione added, exchanging a look with the redhead.

  "Why? Were they not good?" Jean asked curiously.

  There was an awkward pause inside the compartment at her question until—

  "They weren't exactly the best," Harry said vaguely, scratching the back of his head. "But don't worry. I'm sure the Headmaster will hire a solid professor…"

  Hermione nodded. "Anyway, did you all get your permission slips signed for Hogsmeade?"

  The conversation moved on as they talked about Hogwarts, their favorite sweets, and all the things they were looking forward to this year. In the relaxed atmosphere, little Jean Grey also got the chance to clear up many things about the school that she hadn't managed to ask when she first met Harry and Hermione weeks ago.

  Outside, the countryside rolled past, changing slowly as the train travelled farther north. The fields gave way to rocky hills and wild moorland. Clouds thickened overhead, and by late afternoon, heavy rain splattered against the windows.

  The view outside turned into a blur of grey, and shadows deepened as the sky darkened. One by one, lanterns flickered to life above the luggage racks and down the corridors, casting a warm, sleepy glow.

  The train rattled on through the storm. Rain hammered the windows, and the wind howled against the sides, but inside the compartments, it was quiet now. Most of the students had already dozed off, lulled by the rocking motion and steady rhythm of the journey.

  Jean was curled up next to Crookshanks, who purred like a motor by her side, while Ron had dozed off with his head tilted against the window, mouth slightly open.

  Hermione sat reading beside Jean, her eyes skimming over the pages, while Harry kept staring with a slight frown at the grey blur beyond the glass.

  A creeping unease was tightening in his chest, one he couldn't quite explain, and... he was starting to feel a strange chill.

  He glanced at Hermione across from him and saw she, too, was likely feeling the same, seeing her rubbing one hand over her arm.

  "Are the warming enchantments broken?" he asked quietly, careful not to wake the sleeping duo.

  Hermione frowned, thinking the same. "Should we call the attendant?" she suggested.

  And just then, the two of them glanced up at the same time, hearing the faint crackle of the flickering lights, and saw the enchanted lanterns above them begin to flicker—once… twice… before an eerie stillness settled around them.

  Harry sat up straighter, feeling the unease he was sensing spike all of a sudden. "Did you feel that?" he said quietly.

  Hermione became alert as well and nodded.

  More strangeness followed. Outside the corridor, they saw the glass on the door fogging over, and the rattling of the train gradually slowed.

  "Are we stopping?" Harry muttered, glancing around, now more alert than ever.

  Before Hermione could say anything, they heard the hiss of the train slowing to a stop, and then all the lights inside and out went out completely.

  "Get your wand!" Hermione said, leaning over Jean and gently pushing her inward into the seat.

  Lumos!

  Their movement woke the other two as well.

  Ron blinked at the sudden darkness and the light that followed from Hermione's spell as soon as he opened his eyes.

  "Are we there yet?"

  Jean also stirred and opened her eyes slowly.

  Hermione sat down and met her gaze.

  "You stay seated unless I say otherwise, okay?"

  Harry fished through his robes for his wand and quickly gripped it, ready for action as well. His breath misted in the cold air, and he could feel it now—something terrible pressing in on them… or drawing closer.

  "What the bloody hell's going on?" Ron voiced, squinting at them. "Why do you two look like you're about to go hunt an Acromantula or someth—"

  His words stopped, and his eyes widened as he looked at the door to the compartment. There, behind the frosted glass, stood a shadow—tall as the door, and unlike anything human.

  The four of them turned their heads and saw the same thing, freezing at the sight just like Weasley. Especially Jean, as this was the first time she was experiencing something so... utterly creepy.

  They saw a grey, rotten-looking hand curl around the edge of the doorframe, and then, with a low creak, the compartment door began to slide open very slowly before a towering black figure loomed into view.

  Its hood hung low over its face, hiding whatever lay beneath. Tattered robes swept across the floor as it glided inside without a sound. To the four of them, it felt as though death itself had stepped into the compartment.

  Harry's heart thudded wildly in his chest, and for a moment, the pulsing fear left him paralyzed—unable to think properly.

  But he was no longer the powerless boy who had only just discovered the extraordinary side of the world anymore. And more importantly, this wasn't the first time he had come face to face with something that, in his mind, was out for his life.

  "No. No, you don't."

  Muttering grimly under his breath, he clenched his jaw, summoned every ounce of courage he had, and shoved the negative thoughts aside. He would not cower.

  His thoughts cleared, and he came to understand exactly what this thing was and what to do when faced with one. And it wasn't only him—so did Hermione.

  Their training over the holidays hadn't just been about duelling; they had picked up a fair bit of new knowledge as well, including a handful of spells they normally wouldn't have learned at Hogwarts until their NEWT years.

  As luck would have it, one of those spells was precisely meant for dealing with creatures of pure darkness—just like the one now gliding into their compartment.

  But still, knowing what to do and actually acting in the moment were two very different things.

  ----

  Some time earlier...

  Inside one of the front carriages of the train, in one of the private compartments arranged for staff, Maverick lay relaxed on the bed with his eyes closed, enjoying the rhythmic sound of rain tapping against the windows.

  Seemingly, of course. By now, he had figured out something he hadn't quite understood when watching the Harry Potter movies in his previous life. Exactly why the Hogwarts Express had come to a stop in the middle of its journey, and why Dementors had boarded the train like some bizarre version of magical traffic police.

  It turned out that, aside from the train's operating staff, there were also Ministry officials on board. And when he had listened in on their conversation, everything made sense—especially what was going to happen midway through the journey.

  It was, essentially, a security inspection—personally arranged by Cornelius Fudge to check whether Sirius Black had boarded the train disguised as a student. To that end, they were bringing along Dementors who, aside from serving as mere deterrents to boost the menacing prestige of that ominous prison, were also known to be capable of distinguishing individual magical signatures.

  Polyjuice Potion, full-body Transfigurations—none of the usual disguise methods would fool their senses. If Sirius was on board, they would know.

  To Fudge's credit, it was a solid arrangement—but only if he had absolute confidence that the creatures in question were, in fact, under his full control.

  Maverick didn't believe that was the case. As far as he understood, the only thing keeping the Dementors in check was a simple agreement—a word of promise between the British Ministry and the creatures. In exchange for being allowed to feed on the emotions of Azkaban's prisoners, they were expected not to run rampant across the country.

  A convenient arrangement—a win-win for both sides—but nothing official on paper. There were no concrete safeguards, no real means of enforcement if either party broke their word.

  All of this, Fudge should have been well aware of. But his obsession with capturing the fugitive—the first ever escape from Azkaban, and one that had happened under his watch—must have bruised his reputation badly. And to restore it, the idiot was, whether knowingly or unknowingly, risking the lives of schoolchildren.

  What exactly gave him the confidence that no accidents would occur, Maverick couldn't say. But the fat man had at least convinced the two officials carrying out the inspection that everything would go smoothly.

  Foolish, Maverick thought, mocking the obese moron. And just as the thought crossed his mind, his eyes slowly opened and focused on the ceiling above. He wasn't exactly looking—his senses had simply picked up movement overhead. Most likely, it was the very creatures he had just been thinking about.

  —————————

  There were two reasons why Maverick had chosen to travel to Hogwarts via the Express today. First, he wanted to see whether events would truly unfold as they had in the original story. And second—because Jean was on board.

  He would make absolutely sure nothing happened to her. If she lost control, there was no telling what the consequences might be, and Maverick wasn't about to leave that to chance.

  Aside from that, he had no intention of interfering with the Ministry officials or their reckless plan to bring Dementors on board.

  Chooh! CHOOOOO!

  Two loud whistles echoed from above, and Maverick felt the train begin to slow. He sat up straight and slipped off the narrow bed.

  Then, with a nudge of magic to the ring on his finger, his clothes began to change—morphing smoothly into the full-body black suit. A soft hum followed, and the next moment, he vanished from the spot and reappeared above—already in motion, flying along the top of the train as it gradually decelerated.

  With his magic suppressed as much as possible, invisibility in place, and the extraordinary trait of true concealment masking his presence entirely—not even the Dementors' senses could detect him gliding silently over the train.

  Dozens—perhaps more—he could see the creatures flying overhead, slowly entering the train one by one from the front. The two officials were giving them verbal instructions, and what he saw next made him raise a brow—the Dementors actually nodded, as if they understood and intended to carry them out.

  It was a strange sight. Everything happening was now within his range of observation as he silently landed atop the second-to-last carriage—the very one where Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Jean were seated. The train had slowed down considerably by now, and soon, it came to a complete halt.

  The inspection had also started, beginning from the front carriages, as one Dementor after another opened the compartment doors.

  Maverick's senses were on full alert, but he would only step in if a student's life was truly in danger. Until then, he would be just a spectator—watching this so-called inspection play out from a third-person point of view.

  Hmm… one particular carriage caught his attention—a group of Gryffindors were seated inside, and…

  Remus Lupin? he thought, spotting an adult sleeping in the same cabin.

  The lights were off, and when the train had stopped, the kids inside had stirred awake. One of them he was quite fond of—a bit of a genius in his alchemy class—Neville Longbottom, the other boy-who-lived.

  The Dementor opened the door, and the children inside, obviously, went pale with fear. But then…

  Maverick's brow furrowed. His magical sense picked up one of the students' magical energy being drained rapidly. No… two. Longbottom and the kid next to him were both reacting the same way.

  Sure enough, the creatures couldn't help themselves and were feeding on them. Not to life-threatening levels, but subtly—and even so, they were just kids. It would leave a scar on their minds.

  And it wasn't just that carriage. Maverick noticed the same thing happening in several others. Some of the Dementors were doing it intentionally—or more accurately, they were simply helping themselves to a small bite of the feast Fudge had practically laid out for them, probably thinking it wouldn't matter to anything.

  Maverick's eyes narrowed as he raised his hand, ready to put a stop to it all.

  But just as he was about to act, he sensed a sudden movement—the sleeping man jolted awake, sprang up, and with a flick of his wand, blasted the Dementor in his compartment.

  It was a Patronus.

  A wolf—of course. And it did the trick. The Dementor fled, but Lupin didn't seem to want to stop there.

  Maverick observed as the man said something to the students in that cabin, then stepped into the corridor before unleashing an even stronger Patronus. At his command, it surged forward from carriage to carriage, scattering the Dementors like shadows chased by sunlight.

  Quite impressive—and with that thought, Maverick slowly lowered his hand and turned his focus back to the carriage beneath him.

  One of the Dementors had just entered. He saw Granger bravely shielding little Jean, and across from her, Harry stood ready as well. The boy did look frozen for a moment, but then he pulled himself together—and it seemed the scene from the original story, where he fainted, wouldn't be repeating itself.

  What followed was the two of them—Harry and Hermione—doing their best to cast the Patronus. They weren't having much success, though. Understandable, after all—they had only come across the spell about a month ago.

  However, it didn't take long before, from Miss Know-It-All's wand tip, a faint white mist began to form. It wasn't anywhere near a corporeal Patronus, but even that was enough to keep a Dementor from at least approaching.

  Again, quite impressive, Maverick remarked inwardly. He was ready to act should they fail to hold it—even if it was just a small whiff of their emotions, he didn't plan to let it happen, not with Jean involved, considering the unknowns.

  Harry was trying too, muttering the spell again and again, but the savior still wasn't quite there. The Dementor lingered at the doorway, hesitant, watching the flicker of magic—which, to it, though faint, was like a piece of the most disgusting thing standing between it and its meal.

  Maverick's focus shifted to Jean—and he was surprised to see that her expression wasn't quite like that of a frightened child. She wasn't exactly calm, but she wasn't frozen in fear either. He watched as her hand rose slowly, as if preparing to cast a spell of her own—wandlessly.

  No… Maverick thought sharply.

  Was she about to use her mutant ability?

  Would it even work against a creature like that?

  But she didn't get the chance, as suddenly—

  "EXPECTO PATRONAAAM!"

  Harry's voice rang out loudly and, surprisingly enough, was strained with frustration rather than fear.

  A white mist, slightly brighter than Hermione's, burst from his wand and began to fill the cabin.

  "YOU SHALL NOT PASS, EVIL CREATURE!"

  Harry shouted again, and from Maverick's perch above, one of his eyes twitched.

  "Is this kid Gandalf now?" he couldn't help but mutter amusedly.

  The Dementor gave a screech of frustration and bolted from the compartment—only to fly straight into an enormous form of a silvery wolf that lunged and bit into its ragged cloak.

  Lupin's Patronus wasn't exactly a werewolf, but more like a Mackenzie Valley wolf—one of the largest wolf species in the world.

  Maverick watched as the Dementor struggled for a moment, then finally broke free and tore away like its robes were on fire.

  Whoever said Dementors couldn't be harmed clearly didn't know what they were talking about. Maverick could sense it—the creature's magic, foul as it was, had diminished noticeably from just that brief clash.

  All in all, it seemed he wouldn't have to take action personally today. The sorry excuse for what they dared call an inspection finally came to an end. The Dementors—all of them—began to leave, heading off to Merlin knows where, and Maverick spotted the two officials yelling frantically into the air at their hasty departure.

  It was clear now that the whole operation had been a complete failure. Dozens of compartments remained unchecked, and from what Maverick gathered while eavesdropping on their panicked conversation, their main concern wasn't exactly the unfinished job, but the fact that several students had nearly passed out being drained of their emotions.

  Nothing akin to a permanent injury to their bodies or magic, but still—they were just students, and it was sure to be a scarring experience.

  Worse still, a number of those students were heirs to noble houses—some aligned with factions directly opposed to Fudge's own. Once word reached their parents, the Ministry would undoubtedly be in for a storm.

  Watching the two men bicker over what excuse they could offer, Maverick's lips curled into a knowing smile. He already planned to have the details of this disaster spread to every corner of the country by morning.

  Time crept by, and at last, the Hogwarts Express lurched forward once again to finish its journey toward Hogsmeade Station.

  Maverick had no reason to linger any longer. After casting one last glance—using his Magical Sense—through the roof at the compartment below to make sure the children were alright, his body rose silently into the sky.

  There were still around two hours left before the train would reach its destination. Then, a moment later, a sharp snap echoed where he hovered—and he vanished, returning to Hogwarts for the first time since the holidays had begun.

  —————————

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