NOT REALLY GOING HOME

As the afternoon wore on, visitors came and went, but Marteen remained steadfastly by Harry's side. The two boys talked quietly, sharing jokes and rehashing their adventure, their bond growing stronger with each passing moment.

As evening approached, Madam Pomfrey bustled over to Harry's bed. "Well, Mr. Potter," she said, her tone brisk but not unkind, "it seems you've recovered sufficiently to join the end-of-year feast. But mind you, no overexertion!"

He glanced at Marteen, who grinned back at him and said.

"Well, looks like we're gonna make quite an entrance, partner."

The two boys made their way through the castle corridors, their footsteps echoing in the empty halls. As they approached the Great Hall, the low hum of hundreds of voices grew louder. Harry and Marteen exchanged a nervous glance before pushing open the heavy doors.

The moment they stepped inside, the Great Hall fell silent. Then, as if a switch had been flipped, the room erupted into applause. Students from all houses and teachers alike clapped and cheered, their faces beaming with admiration and relief.

Harry felt his cheeks flush with embarrassment, while Marteen's usual cocky grin softened into a more genuine smile. They looked at each other, sharing a moment of mutual disbelief and joy at the warm reception.

Their eyes then traveled to the staff table, where they saw Professor McGonagall clapping enthusiastically, her usually stern face breaking into a rare smile. Professor Flitwick was bouncing in his seat, applauding with such vigor that he nearly toppled over. Even Professor Snape, his face as impassive as ever, gave them a small nod of acknowledgment.

At the center of the table sat Dumbledore, his blue eyes twinkling as he beamed at the two boys. He raised his goblet in a silent toast, causing Harry and Marteen to smile even wider.

As the applause continued, Harry leaned closer to Marteen and whispered, "I guess we did alright."

"Alright? Buddy, we just saved the whole dang school. I'd say we did more than alright."

With that, the two friends made their way to their respective house tables, Harry squeezed in between Ron and Hermione at the Gryffindor table. Across the room, Marteen sauntered over to the Slytherin table, plopping down next to Theodore Nott with a casual nod.

CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!

The sound of Dumbledore tapping his spoon against his goblet echoed through the hall, silencing the chatter. All eyes turned to the headmaster, his silver beard gleaming in the candlelight.

"My dear students," Dumbledore's voice rang out, warm and clear. "Another year of magical learning has come to a close. But before we indulge in our feast, we must address the matter of the house cup."

The hall held its collective breath as Dumbledore cleared his throat.

"The current standings are as follows: In fourth place, with a valiant effort of three hundred and seventy-two points, we have Gryffindor."

A groan rippled through the Gryffindor table. Harry's heart sank, and he saw Ron's face fall faster than a Quidditch player hit by a Bludger.

"In third, demonstrating admirable dedication, Hufflepuff house with three hundred and eighty-two points."

Polite applause from the Hufflepuff table, tinged with a hint of disappointment.

"Our second place goes to Ravenclaw, with an impressive four hundred and twenty-six points."

The Ravenclaws clapped, their faces a mixture of pride and resignation.

"And leading the pack, Slytherin house, with a formidable four hundred and seventy-two points."

The Slytherin table erupted like a volcano of green and silver. Whoops, cheers, and the thunderous stamping of feet filled the air.

But Dumbledore raised his hand, and the room fell silent once more. The Slytherins' grins began to fade as they realized—the headmaster wasn't finished.

"An admirable showing from all houses," Dumbledore said, "However, I believe recent events have demonstrated extraordinary qualities that must not go unrecognized."

The room went so quiet you could've heard a Niffler sneeze. Every eye was glued to Dumbledore, every breath held in anticipation.

Marteen, muttered to Nott, "Well, shoot. This oughta be interestin'."

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled as he surveyed the room, a smile playing on his lips.

"First, to Miss Hermione Granger, for the cool use of intellect when others were in grave peril, I award Gryffindor house fifty points."

Hermione gasped, her eyes wide with surprise. The Gryffindors burst into applause, realizing they were now at four hundred and twenty-two points.

"Second, to Mr. Ronald Weasley, for the best-played game of chess Hogwarts has seen in many years, I award Gryffindor house fifty points."

Ron's face turned scarlet, a grin spreading from ear to ear. Gryffindor cheered again; they had reached four hundred and seventy-two points, tying with Slytherin.

At last there was silence again.

"Third, to Mr. Harry Potter, for pure nerve and outstanding courage, I award Gryffindor house sixty points."

The din was deafening. Gryffindor now had five hundred and thirty-two points — exactly sixty points more than Slytherin. They had taken the lead!

But Dumbledore raised his hand once more, and the room gradually fell silent.

"Fourth, to Mr. Marteen Grindelwald, for extraordinary magic to save the others, I award Slytherin house sixty points."

The Slytherin table, which had been uncharacteristically quiet, suddenly burst into cheers. Their total now matched Gryffindor's at five hundred and thirty-two points. Marteen, his face a mixture of shock and pride, was pounded on the back by his housemates.

"And finally," Dumbledore called over the storm of applause, "it takes a great deal of bravery to stand up to our enemies, but just as much to stand up to our friends. I therefore award ten points to Mr. Neville Longbottom."

Someone standing outside the Great Hall might well have thought some sort of explosion had taken place, so loud was the noise that erupted from the Gryffindor table. With these final points, Gryffindor had secured the victory with a total of five hundred and forty-two points.

With a resounding clap of his hands, Dumbledore transformed the Great Hall. In an instant, the green and silver decorations melted away, replaced by a sea of red and gold. The Gryffindor lion roared triumphantly from banners that unfurled along the walls, marking the end of Slytherin's six-year reign as House Cup champions.

The Gryffindor table exploded with joy, their cheers echoing off the enchanted ceiling. Students jumped up and down, hugging each other in wild celebration. At the other tables, Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs joined in the applause, many of them grinning at the change in fortune.

At the Slytherin table, a wave of disappointment washed over many faces. Some students slumped in their seats, while others wore expressions of disbelief. Draco Malfoy looked as though he'd swallowed a particularly sour lemon, his face contorted in a mixture of shock and disgust.

However, not all Slytherins shared in the dismay. A small but noticeable group of Slytherins joined in the applause, acknowledging Gryffindor's victory with grudging respect. Among them, Marteen Grindelwald clapped steadily, a small smile playing on his lips as he nodded in appreciation of the turn of events.

Across the Great Hall, Harry's eyes met Marteen's. In that moment, amidst the chaos of celebration and disappointment, a silent understanding passed between them. Marteen gave Harry a firm nod, his drawling voice somehow carrying over the din:

"Y'all earned it, partner."

Harry grinned back, realizing that even in victory, the bonds of friendship they'd forged transcended house rivalries. It had been a year of surprises, challenges, and unexpected alliances - and this moment of mutual respect was a fitting end to their incredible adventure.

The next morning, a flurry of excitement and anxiety filled the air as the exam results were distributed. Students huddled in groups, nervously comparing their marks and sharing sighs of relief or groans of disappointment.

Harry tore open his envelope with trembling fingers, his heart pounding. As his eyes scanned the parchment, a grin spread across his face. He'd passed with decent marks across the board - not spectacular, but solid. A wave of relief washed over him.

Next to him, Ron was practically shaking as he unfolded his results. His freckled face cycled through a range of emotions - fear, surprise, and finally, immense relief.

"Blimey," he breathed, "I made it! Mum'll be pleased."

Hermione, of course, was beaming as she pored over her parchment. Her results were, unsurprisingly, excellent across all subjects. She clutched the paper to her chest, eyes shining with pride.

Across the hall, Marteen sauntered over, his results tucked casually under his arm. With a lazy flick of his wrist, he unfolded the parchment and gave it a once-over.

"How'd you do?" Harry called out.

"Well, shoot. Looks like I barely scraped by in most subjects. My Astronomy marks are so bad, they might as well have been written in invisible ink." He chuckled, seemingly unbothered. "But hey, check this out – aced Defense Against the Dark Arts. Only subject worth a darn, if you ask me."

Hermione, overhearing this, marched over, "Marteen Grindelwald! One subject is not enough! What about your future? Your career prospects?"

"Aw, come on, Hermione. Who needs Astronomy when you can duel like a champ? Besides, I reckon savin' the school from Voldemort looks pretty good on a resume, don't you think?"

Hermione threw her hands up in frustration, but there was a hint of a smile playing at the corners of her mouth.

"You're impossible, you know that?"

"That's why y'all keep me around,"

As the friends bickered good-naturedly about the importance of academic achievement versus practical skills, Harry couldn't help but smile. Despite their differences, despite the challenges they'd faced, they'd all made it through their first year at Hogwarts. And somehow, he had a feeling their adventures were just beginning.

The next day, a strange silence fell over Hogwarts castle. The once-bustling corridors now stood empty, echoing with the ghosts of laughter and chatter from the year gone by. In every dormitory — Gryffindor, Slytherin, Ravenclaw, and Hufflepuff — beds were stripped bare, their occupants long gone. Wardrobes gaped open, their contents packed away in trunks and bags, leaving behind only the faintest whisper of memories.

Down by the lake, a flurry of activity broke the stillness. Students milled about, dragging trunks and cages, saying last-minute goodbyes to friends, and preparing to board the fleet of little boats that would carry them across the glassy surface of the lake — their first step on the journey home.

Hagrid's booming voice carried over the crowd, "Firs' years! This way to the boats!"

Harry and Ron made their way to Hagrid's boat, grinning up at the gentle giant as they clambered aboard. Nearby, Hermione and Marteen walked together towards an empty boat, chatting animatedly about their plans for the summer.

As they settled into their seats, Marteen's drawl carrying over the lapping water as he joked with Hermione, a voice called out —

"Marteen! Mind if I join you?"

Daphne Greengrass, her long blonde hair shimmering in the sunlight, stood at the edge of the water, a hopeful smile on her face.

Marteen's eyebrows shot up in surprise, but he quickly recovered, flashing a grin.

"Sure thing, Daphne. Hop on in."

As Daphne gracefully stepped into the boat, Hermione shifted in her seat, a flicker of unease crossing her face. She glanced between Marteen and Daphne, then back at the crowded shore behind her. Despite her discomfort, she remained seated, her fingers gripping the edge of the boat a little tighter than necessary.

Hagrid's voice rang out —

"Right then — FORWARD!"

And with that, the fleet of little boats began to move all at once, gliding across the lake as smooth as silk.

In one boat, Draco Malfoy sat with his usual companions, Crabbe and Goyle. "I must say, Goyle, I'm rather shocked you managed to pass your exams. Perhaps there's hope for you yet." Goyle merely grunted in response, while Crabbe sniggered.

Nearby, Marteen's boat cut through the water, his animated voice rising and falling as he regaled Daphne with tales of his dueling prowess.

"— and then I hit 'em with a Knockback Jinx so powerful, they prob'ly landed somewhere in Scotland!"

Daphne leaned in, her eyes wide with admiration. "That's incredible, Marteen! That's why you are the best duelist in our year!"

Hermione, seated at the other end of the boat, remained uncharacteristically silent. Her lips were pressed into a thin line, her eyes darting between Marteen and the Slytherin girl in annoyance. She fidgeted with the hem of her robes, clearly uncomfortable with the situation.

In another boat, Neville Longbottom clutched Trevor the toad tightly to his chest, his knuckles white with the effort. Dean and Seamus chatted animatedly around him, but Neville's attention was focused solely on ensuring his slippery pet didn't make a break for freedom in the middle of the lake.

Meanwhile, in Hagrid's boat, the giant's usually cheerful face was creased with worry.

"I'm sorry, yeh two," he mumbled, "Shouldn'ta let yeh face such danger. It's all my fault — me an' my big mouth, tellin' that stranger how ter get past Fluffy. Dumbledore shoulda sacked me on the spot, he should."

"Don't be ridiculous, Hagrid. It's over now, and everything turned out alright in the end." said Harry.

Hagrid sniffed loudly, pulling out a handkerchief the size of a tablecloth to dab at his eyes.

"Yer a good lad, Harry. I promise yeh, I won't touch another drop o' firewhisky. Can't risk lettin' somethin' like this happen again."

As the boats continued their journey across the lake, the turrets of Hogwarts castle grew smaller in the distance, marking the end of their first magical year and the beginning of a summer filled with anticipation for what was to come.

After reached the coast of the lake, they approached Hogsmeade station, Harry, Ron, and Hagrid led the way, their footsteps crunching on the gravel path. Hermione, who had been lagging behind with Marteen and Daphne, suddenly quickened her pace. She slipped between the other students, leaving behind the sound of Marteen's continued boasting and Daphne's impressed giggles.

"Wait up!" Hermione called, falling into step beside Harry and Ron. They exchanged knowing glances, but said nothing about her abrupt departure from the other group.

The Hogwarts Express stood waiting, its scarlet engine gleaming in the sunlight. As students began to fill the carriages, Harry, Ron, and Hermione turned to say their goodbyes to Hagrid.

"Have a good summer, yeh three," Hagrid said, "Don' forget ter write!"

They promised they would, giving the gentle giant quick hugs before turning towards the train. As they were about to board, Marteen's drawling voice called out behind them.

"Hold up, y'all!" He jogged up, slightly out of breath. "Gotta say goodbye to the big guy too." He turned to Hagrid with a grin. "Thanks for everythin', Hagrid. It's been a wild ride."

Hagrid chuckled, patting Marteen on the back with enough force to make the boy stumble.

"Take care, Marteen. Try not ter get into too much trouble over the summer, eh?"

With a final wave to Hagrid, Marteen joined Harry, Ron, and Hermione as they boarded the train. They made their way down the corridor, peering into compartments until they found an empty one.

As they settled into their seats, Hermione couldn't help but ask, "I thought you'd be sitting with that Slytherin girl — Daphne, wasn't it?"

"Nah, she's alright an' all, but my best friends are right here." He lounged back in his seat, propping his feet up on the opposite bench. "Besides, I reckon y'all would be lost without me."

"Yeah, right. We'd be lost without your constant showing off, more like." said Ron.

Hermione looked at the window, then return her gaze to his friends.

"It is strange, isn't it? Going home?" Hermione said.

"No, not really. I am not really going home. This is my home." said Harry, with a smile.

The Hogwarts Express let out a mighty WHOOSH as it pulled away from Hogsmeade station, leaving behind a cloud of billowing steam. The rhythmic chug-chug-chug of the engine soon settled into a soothing backdrop as the landscape outside began to transform.

Rolling hills of emerald green whizzed by, dotted with fluffy white sheep that looked like cotton balls scattered across a verdant blanket. Towering mountains loomed in the distance, their peaks shrouded in misty clouds that seemed to dance around the jagged summits. Glittering lakes appeared and vanished in the blink of an eye, their surfaces shimmering like polished mirrors in the warm summer sun.

Ron, his face pressed against the window, suddenly turned to his friends with an excited grin.

"Oi, you lot! You've got to come visit the Burrow this summer. Mum's cooking is brilliant — her treacle tart could make a grown wizard weep with joy!"

As the others nodded enthusiastically, Harry's brow furrowed in thought. A memory tickled at the back of his mind — something Dumbledore had mentioned... twice.

"Say, Marteen," Harry began, his voice hesitant, "Dumbledore mentioned your mother a couple of times. How is she?"

The compartment fell silent. Marteen's usually confident demeanor faltered for a moment, his eyes darting to the floor.

"She's... she's fine," he replied, "Only met her 'bout four years ago, actually."

Harry nodded, unsurprised — Dumbledore had already filled him in. But Ron and Hermione's jaws dropped in unison.

"Four years ago?" Hermione gasped. "But... how? Where were you before that?"

"Well, I was livin' in an orphanage in Boston for seven years. Then my mom came and got me."

"Boston? That's way up north from London, isn't it?" Ron said.

"Nah, not that Boston. I'm talking about Boston, Massachusetts — in America."

"Bloody hell! No wonder your accent sounds so barmy to me!"

The compartment fell silent as Hermione's question hung in the air, her curiosity piqued by Marteen's revelation. She leaned forward, her eyes sparkling with interest.

"But wait," Hermione said, "Your grandfather, Gellert Grindelwald, was Germanic. How did you end up in America?"

Marteen sighed, running a hand through his hair. His usual bravado melted away, replaced by a more somber expression.

"It's a long story," he began, "Wizards across Europe — they hate us, you know? My grandfather, he caused quite a ruckus back in his day. You all know that."

The train chugged along, the rhythmic clack-clack-clack of wheels on tracks punctuating Marteen's words. Outside, the lush Scottish countryside whizzed by in a blur of emerald and gold.

"My mother," Marteen continued, "she figured America was our best bet. Over there, folks either haven't heard much about Grindelwald or — well, they just don't care as much."

Harry nodded, understanding dawning in his bright green eyes. Ron, however, looked puzzled, his freckled face scrunched up in confusion.

"I can't imagine not knowing about Grindelwald! He was like the You-Know-Who of his time." Ron exclaimed.

Hermione shot Ron a reproachful look.

"Ronald! Don't be insensitive!"

Harry and Hermione exchanged quick glances, their faces etched with concern.

"I'm sorry, Marteen," Harry said softly, "It must have been tough, dealing with all that."

Hermione nodded vigorously. "Yes, I'm sorry too. We shouldn't have pried into your personal history like that."

"Y'know, all this talk about America reminds me — I've got to write to my best friend Dave when I get home. We went to elementary school together. Can't exactly send him an owl though, seeing as he's a No-Maj and all." said Marteen.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione exchanged puzzled glances. Even Hermione, usually quick on the uptake, looked bewildered.

"No-Maj?" Harry echoed, "What's that?"

"Oh, shoot — I did it again!" He chuckled, "Sorry, lads. No-Maj is what we call Muggles in America. Different term, same meaning."

"Fascinating! So the American wizarding community has its own terminology. I wonder what other differences there are..." said Hermione.

Ron snorted. "Leave it to Hermione to get excited about magical vocabulary."

"Well, speaking of exciting magical stuff, I found out I was a wizard when I was seven years old. It was Dumbledore who visited me, if you can believe it." Marteen began.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione's jaws dropped in unison.

"Dumbledore?" Harry exclaimed, "He came to see you personally?"

"Yep, though I had no clue who he was at the time. Thought he was just some eccentric old guy with a weird fashion sense."

Ron snickered at the description, but Hermione leaned forward, intrigued.

"What happened then?

"Well,he gave me some basic magic books to study. And also my grandfather's books."

The compartment fell silent. Harry's brow furrowed in disbelief.

"So, Dumbledore himself who gave you that book?" Harry asked.

"Blimey, that book nasty book."

Marteen shrugged, "I reckon he had his reasons. Dumbledore's always ten steps ahead, right?"

Hermione nodded slowly, processing this information.

"Yes, in the end that book helped us but..."

"You know what's funny?" Marteen added, "At the time, I thought Dumbledore was just some crazy old man. And those books? I figured they were just children's fantasies. Boy, was I in for a surprise!"

The Hogwarts Express rattled on, the English countryside flying past the window as the four friends sat in contemplative silence, each pondering the mysterious ways of Albus Dumbledore and the strange twists of fate that had brought them all together.

Marteen leaned back in his seat, his eyes gleaming with nostalgia.

"Oh, and get this — Dumbledore didn't stop there. He sent one of his acquaintances to guide me before I came to England. The guy's actually a teacher at Ilvermorny."

"Ilver-what now?" Ron confused.

"Ilvermorny," Marteen repeated, "It's the magical school in America. Like Hogwarts, but with its own quirks and traditions."

"Oh, I've read about Ilvermorny! It's fascinating how different magical education can be across the world." said Hermione.

Harry and Ron exchanged amused glances at Hermione's predictable enthusiasm for learning.

"Yeah, it's pretty cool," Marteen continued. "This acquaintance of Dumbledore's became my private tutor before I came to England — all at Dumbledore's request. And sometimes, he'd take me to Ilvermorny to watch Quodpot matches."

Once again, the compartment fell silent as three pairs of bewildered eyes fixed on Marteen.

"Quod-what?" Harry asked.

"Man, I keep forgetting how different things are here. Quodpot is a popular wizarding sport in America. It's like Quidditch, but with more explosions."

Ron's eyes widened with interest. "More explosions? Wicked!"

"Yeah," Marteen explained, gesturing animatedly. "So there's this ball called a Quod, right? And it's enchanted to explode if you hold onto it too long. The teams try to get the Quod into a pot at the end of the pitch before it goes boom!"

"Sounds brilliant! Though I reckon I'll stick with Quidditch." Harry said.

"Boys and their sports. I swear, whether it's Quidditch or Quodpot, you're all the same." said Hermione.

The Hogwarts Express gave another long whistle as it continued its journey towards London. As the conversation flowed, filled with laughter and more comparisons between British and American wizarding culture, Harry couldn't help but feel a sense of wonder. The magical world, it seemed, was even larger and more diverse than he had ever imagined. And Dumbledore's reach, extending even across the Atlantic to shape Marteen's magical education, only added to the mystery surrounding the enigmatic headmaster.

As the Hogwarts Express chugged past Muggle towns, the four friends began to prepare for their arrival. They shed their wizarding robes, carefully folding and stowing them in their trunks.

Harry, his green eyes reflecting a mix of sadness and hope, turned to his friends. "Don't forget to write, all of you. It'll make the summer more bearable."

Ron nodded enthusiastically. "And remember, you're all invited to the Burrow. Mum's already planning the feasts!"

They began exchanging their summer addresses. Harry sighed, "Well, you all know mine. Number 4, Privet Drive, Little Whinging."

"I'm in Heathgate. It's a lovely little area in Hampstead." Hermione chimed in.

All eyes turned to Marteen, who grinned mischievously.

"Me? I live in a hidden cabin in the Epping Forest."

For what felt like the hundredth time that day, Harry, Ron, and Hermione's jaws dropped in unison.

"A forest?" Harry exclaimed, "You live in a forest?"

"Remember what I said about the wizarding world not being too fond of us? Living off the beaten path helps keep a low profile. Can't afford to rent any muggle property."

Ron nodded slowly, understanding dawning on his freckled face.

"It's just me, my mom, and Mortis," Marteen added.

"Mortis? Is that a sibling?" Hermione asked.

Ron chuckled, "No, Hermione. That's Marteen's pet, a boa constrictor."

Harry nodded, recalling the unusual pet Marteen had mentioned at Chrismast's holiday.

"A boa constrictor? As a pet?" Hermione looked faint at the idea.

"Don't worry, Hermione. Mortis is a sweetheart. Wouldn't hurt a fly... well, maybe a rat or two." said Marteen.

The Hogwarts Express began to slow as it approached King's Cross Station. As they gathered their belongings, Harry couldn't help but marvel at how much he'd learned about his friend Marteen in just one train ride.

As the Hogwarts Express pulled into Platform 9¾, the bustling crowd of students and parents filled the air with excited chatter. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Marteen gathered their trunks and made their way towards the magical barrier.

A wizened guard stood watch, ushering small groups through to avoid attracting Muggle attention.

"Two or three at a time now,"

Harry, Ron, and Hermione went first, pushing their trolleys through the solid-looking wall. Marteen followed close behind, emerging onto the Muggle side of King's Cross Station.

No sooner had they regrouped than a flash of red hair caught their attention. Molly Weasley, accompanied by a shy-looking Ginny, hurried towards them.

"Ron! Oh, there you are, dear!"

Molly exclaimed, enveloping her youngest son in a warm hug. Ginny, meanwhile, peeked out from behind her mother, her eyes wide as they landed on Harry.

Molly turned to the others, her face beaming. "Harry, Hermione, and you must be Marteen! How lovely to meet you all. Ron's told us so much about you in his letters."

"Thank you for the Christmas sweater, Mrs. Weasley. It was brilliant." Harry smiled warmly.

"Oh, it was nothing, dear," Molly replied, patting Harry's cheek affectionately.

As Molly chatted animatedly with the group, Ginny remained partially hidden behind her mother, her eyes darting nervously towards Marteen. The young Grindelwald noticed her apprehension and offered a friendly smile, which seemed to make Ginny shrink back even further.

"Now, Ginny, there's no need to be scared. Marteen is a lovely boy, just as Ron's told us in his letters. Isn't that right, Ron?"

"Yeah, Gin. Marteen's alright. He's one of us."

Ginny hesitated for a moment, then slowly emerged from behind her mother, offering Marteen a timid smile. The platform buzzed with activity around them, families reuniting and students saying their goodbyes, as the unlikely group of friends stood together, bridging gaps and forming bonds that would last far beyond the summer ahead.

As the group continued chatting, Hermione suddenly perked up, spotting her parents in the crowd. "Oh, there are my mum and dad!" she exclaimed. "I'd better go. Have a wonderful summer, everyone!" She hugged each of her friends in turn, lingering a moment longer with Ron, before rushing off with her trolley.

The platform seemed to grow quieter in Hermione's absence, but the lull was quickly broken by the appearance of a hooded figure. Despite the concealment, Harry could make out strands of black hair peeking out from beneath the hood. The woman's eyes, sharp and alert, scanned the crowd before landing on Marteen. This could only be Erika Grindelwald.

Marteen and Erika stood at a distance, an awkward tension hanging between them. For a moment, it seemed as though neither knew quite how to act. Then, without warning, Marteen burst forward, throwing his arms around his mother in a tight embrace.

"I'm sorry I didn't come home for Christmas,"

Marteen mumbled into her shoulder, his usual bravado momentarily forgotten.

Erika's face softened as she returned the hug, careful to keep her hood in place. "It's fine, sweetheart," she said softly. "You did great things at Hogwarts. Your Head of House, a professor named Severus Snape, sent me a letter about your heroic actions."

"Professor Snape wrote to you?"

Erika nodded, a proud smile playing on her lips, though her eyes darted around nervously, as if worried about being recognized.

Molly, Ron, and Harry watched the scene unfold, their faces breaking into warm smiles. The sight of Marteen, usually so confident and boisterous, showing such vulnerability with his mother was touching.

Harry felt a twinge in his chest, a mix of happiness for his friend and a longing for the parents he never knew. Ron, sensing Harry's mood, gave him a gentle nudge and a reassuring grin.

The platform continued to buzz with activity around them, but for a moment, time seemed to stand still as they witnessed this tender reunion between mother and son, made all the more poignant by Erika's obvious need for secrecy.

Erika turned to Molly, her posture straightening as she prepared to introduce herself.

"Hello, I'm Erika...Erika..." she hesitated, her voice trailing off as she reached her surname.

"It's okay, Mom," Marteen said softly.

Erika took a deep breath and continued, "Erika Grindelwald. It's a pleasure to meet you."

To her surprise, Molly's warm smile didn't falter. She extended her hand, grasping Erika's firmly.

"Molly Weasley. It's wonderful to meet you too."

Marteen's face lit up with excitement. "Mom, guess what? I've made some amazing friends here, and one of them is Harry Potter!"

"Harry Potter? Really?"

Marteen nodded enthusiastically, gently pulling his mother closer to Harry. "Mom, this is Harry Potter. Harry, this is my mom, Erika Grindelwald."

Harry, ever polite, extended his hand with a shy smile.

"It's nice to meet you, Mrs. Grindelwald."

Erika shook Harry's hand, clearly impressed by his manners. She turned to Marteen with a pointed look.

"You could learn a thing or two about politeness from Harry, Marteen."

Marteen squirmed uncomfortably under his mother's gaze, then quickly moved on.

"And this is Ron Weasley, my other best friend," he said, gesturing towards Ron.

Ron stepped forward with a friendly grin, offering his hand to Erika. "Hiya, Mrs. Grindelwald. Nice to meet you."

As the introductions continued, the initial tension began to dissipate. The platform bustled around them, but in this small circle, a sense of warmth and acceptance prevailed. Harry couldn't help but feel a surge of happiness, watching his friend Marteen proudly introduce his mother to the group, despite the weight of their family name.

Molly beamed at the scene, her motherly instincts clearly extending to all the children before her, regardless of their backgrounds. It was a moment of unity that seemed to embody the very spirit of Hogwarts itself - bringing together people from all walks of life in friendship and understanding.

As the introductions wound down, the group began to say their goodbyes. Hugs were exchanged, promises to write were made, and final waves were given as they started to part ways.

Harry spotted Uncle Vernon's imposing figure in the crowd, his face already turning an unpleasant shade of purple. With a sigh, Harry pushed his trolley towards his uncle.

"I hope you had a great time," Uncle Vernon grumbled, his mustache twitching with barely contained irritation, "but remember, boy, no freak stuff or magic at home."

Harry nodded silently, knowing better than to argue. As they walked away from Platform 9¾, he cast one last glance over his shoulder. He saw Ron and Ginny following Mrs. Weasley, Marteen and his hooded mother slipping discreetly into the crowd, and the last remnants of other Hogwarts students disappearing with their families.

As they exited King's Cross Station, the Muggle world enveloped Harry once more. The bustling streets of London, filled with cars and pedestrians oblivious to the magical world that existed alongside theirs, seemed almost surreal after a year at Hogwarts.

Yet, as Harry climbed into Uncle Vernon's car, he felt a warmth in his chest that not even the prospect of a summer with the Dursleys could extinguish. He had friends now - true friends who cared about him. Friends who would write to him, who understood him, who shared his magical world.

The car pulled away from the curb, carrying Harry back to Privet Drive. But this time, it was different. This time, he wasn't just leaving Hogwarts behind - he was carrying a piece of it with him. In his memories, in the promises of letters to come, and in the knowledge that come September 1st, he would board the Hogwarts Express once more, ready for another year of magic, friendship, and adventure.

As London faded into the distance, Harry smiled to himself. The summer stretched ahead, long and potentially dreary, but beyond it lay the promise of return. To Hogwarts. To magic. To home.