Chapter 18 – The Train to Hogwarts

The station bustled with activity, filled with the low hum of travelers, the clatter of trolley wheels, and the occasional whistle of a departing train. Padding softly across the tiled floor of King's Cross, Jonathan Grace and Harry Potter moved with purpose, their eyes scanning for something… different. They weren't looking for a sign—they were looking for a feeling.

"It's here," Jonathan said quietly.

Harry nodded, eyes narrowing as he walked between Platforms 9 and 10. "Feels strange. Like… warm air against your skin, even though there's none."

They both stepped aside, watching the space between the brick pillars carefully. There was a shimmer in the air, a subtle bending—almost like a mirage. To any other passerby, it might've been nothing. But to two ten-year-old boys who had spent the last year studying runes, magical artifacts, and emotions as magical fuel, it was a clear signature of hidden magic.

Jonathan glanced at Harry. "Ready?"

"As I'll ever be."

They leaned forward together and walked—straight into the wall.

Except… they didn't hit anything.

They passed through.

Suddenly, they emerged into a very different space: a long platform lined with wrought-iron benches, strange birds in cages, and trolleys stacked with trunks. The scarlet Hogwarts Express sat humming quietly on the tracks, its doors open and steam curling into the summer sky.

"Well," Jonathan muttered, grinning, "we found it."

They both stood still for a moment, just watching. Owls hooted softly from their cages. A pair of children raced up and down the platform with excitement. Witches and wizards milled about, some in robes, others in Muggle clothes. It was loud, bright, alive.

Behind them, Jonathan's parents stepped through the barrier, looking slightly dazed. Annabeth brushed off her blouse and tried to appear calm, while Michael muttered, "That's not normal," under his breath for the fifth time.

Jonathan turned to them, his face serious despite his excitement. "Thanks for coming all this way. I'll write you as soon as I figure out how owls work."

Annabeth hugged him tightly, and Michael patted his shoulder. "Don't blow anything up," he said gruffly.

"No promises," Jonathan grinned.

Harry looked on with a quiet smile, then gave a small wave to Jonathan's parents. "Thank you again… for everything."

Annabeth smiled warmly. "You're always welcome, Harry."

Then the train gave a long whistle.

Jonathan and Harry boarded quickly, finding an empty compartment near the back. As the train began to pull away from the station, they leaned out the window, waving. Jonathan's parents were easy to spot in the crowd, standing side by side, watching the train until it vanished from view.

Inside the compartment, Harry sat by the window, watching the countryside flash by in a blur of green fields and winding roads.

"So," Jonathan said, cracking his knuckles, "we're finally on our way. Hogwarts."

"I still can't believe it," Harry murmured. "A real school for magic."

Jonathan raised a brow. "We've been doing magic for over a year."

"Yeah, but it still feels different. Like we're going to learn real magic now. The kind that's written in proper books and taught by actual wizards."

The door to their compartment slid open, and a tall red-haired boy poked his head in. "Mind if I sit here? Everywhere else is full."

Jonathan glanced at Harry, then nodded. "Go ahead."

The boy sat down heavily and placed his worn trunk under the seat. "I'm Ron. Ron Weasley."

"Jonathan Grace."

"Harry Potter," said Harry quietly.

Ron blinked. "Wait… the Harry Potter?"

Harry gave a weak smile. "I guess."

Ron's eyes widened, but he didn't say anything more about it. Instead, he leaned back, clearly trying to play it cool, though he kept glancing at Harry's forehead like he was dying to ask about the scar.

"So," Jonathan said casually, "you've been around magic your whole life?"

"Yeah," said Ron. "My mum's a witch, dad works at the Ministry. I've got five older brothers, two of them already graduated. Fred and George are still at Hogwarts."

As if summoned by name, the door slammed open again.

Two identical red-haired boys stepped in, grinning wildly.

"Did someone say our names?" said one.

"Are your ears burning, Ronnikins?" said the other.

Jonathan chuckled. "You must be Fred and George."

"We are indeed," Fred said with a dramatic bow.

"We just thought we'd pop in and see the famous Harry Potter," George added, turning toward Harry.

Harry looked a bit uncomfortable, but he smiled politely. "Hi."

"You're in good company," Fred said, nodding at Jonathan. "First years with brains are rare."

George pointed at Ron. "Except this one. He got all the hand-me-down brains from Percy."

Ron rolled his eyes. "Go away."

"See you at the feast," the twins said in unison, then disappeared as quickly as they'd come.

Jonathan glanced at Ron. "Are they always like that?"

"Worse," Ron muttered. "You'll see."

A moment later, the door slid open again—this time, it was a bushy-haired girl in neat clothes, holding a small book in one hand.

"Have you seen a toad?" she asked briskly. "A boy named Neville's lost his."

"Nope," Jonathan said. "No toads here."

She was about to leave, but paused, eyeing them curiously. "You're practicing magic already, aren't you?"

Jonathan raised an eyebrow. "We've tried a few things."

Harry nodded. "A bit. Small stuff."

She stepped inside. "I'm Hermione Granger, by the way. I've learned all our course books by heart, but I didn't realize you could do any actual magic before school. How did you manage it?"

Jonathan and Harry exchanged a glance.

"It's kind of hard to explain," Jonathan said.

"Try me."

Harry leaned forward slightly. "It's… not just the wand or the words. Magic, I think, has something to do with emotion."

"Emotion?" Hermione wrinkled her nose.

"Yeah," Jonathan said. "Like, Harry teleported on the school roof when he was scared. I made a lit ball on my hands when I was frustrated. It's like the emotion powers the effect."

Hermione frowned. "I've read The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1, and it doesn't say anything like that."

"Well, maybe the books don't cover it because they assume you already have control," Harry offered. "Or maybe they don't want first-years messing around with wandless magic."

She seemed skeptical. "Interesting theory. I'll have to research that."

And with that, she was gone.

Jonathan leaned back. "That went well."

"She's intense," Ron said. "Probably ends up in Ravenclaw."

"Maybe," Jonathan replied. "But I bet she's top of our class no matter where she lands."

A few minutes passed in peaceful silence. Then the door opened one final time.

Draco Malfoy stepped in, flanked by two thick boys who looked like they'd been carved from the same lump of granite.

"So it's true," Draco drawled. "Harry Potter is on the train."

Harry glanced at him, unamused. "Yeah. And you are?"

"Malfoy. Draco Malfoy." He looked at Jonathan. "You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there."

Jonathan smiled. "Thanks, but we've already picked a side."

Before Draco could retort, Jonathan flicked his fingers under the table. A quick rune gesture, a tiny pulse of emotion, and suddenly Draco's shoelaces tied themselves together.

He tripped as he stepped back, landing flat on his back in the corridor.

Harry snorted.

Ron doubled over laughing.

Jonathan leaned out the door. "You alright there, Draco?"

Crabbe and Goyle scrambled to help their leader up, but not before Fred and George passed by and shouted, "Looks like someone's already made an impression!"

The train rattled on.

The sun moved across the sky.

And Hogwarts drew closer with every mile.