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March 1941
AN: I was in the middle of trying to write something else when this idea attacked me. Some quick research care of Wikipedia regarding British trains and their maintenance workshops later and here we are. I was unfortunately unable to resolve the question of the actual date of the real bombing on this workshop so if you know it I am interested in finding out.
Background
The sustained bombing of Britain by Nazi Germany during the period 6 September 1940 and 10 May 1941 was and is known as the Blitz. In the area known as London's East End, due as much to the docks lining the Thames and other commercial activities, the bombing was particularly bad. One of these East End localities is named Bow. This area sustained massive damage including the destruction of the workshop belonging to the London Midland and Scottish Railway in Bow. By the end of May 1941, over 43,000 civilians, half of them in London, had been killed by bombing and more than a million houses were destroyed or damaged in London alone.
Thursday March 13th 1941 Bow, England
With the Bombers Moon shining brightly Bruce gingerly walked up Devons Road from his home near the Limehouse Cut to nearby Bow. Despite the All Clear having sounded a short while ago, the combination of moonlight and the blackout made walking through any part of wartime Britain difficult. However due to those rude Luftwaffe tourists dumping their rubbish from on high, moving about anywhere in London's East End in the winter and spring this year during this so called Blitz was particularly difficult. There were bomb holes, unexploded bombs, broken glass, firelight, rubble, uneven pavement, bits of shell casings and god alone knows what else littering the ground. At least now that he'd past his OWL's he could use the 'notice me not' charm to avoid officious air raid wardens, thieves and the local bobbies on his way to work at the Bow railway workshop.
Turning the corner he was forced to stop at the barricade which stretched all the way across the street. Stunned, all he could think of was to curse Sods Law as he watched as the firemen attempted to keep the flames from the burning wagon workshop from spreading to the nearby sheds and houses. 'Flaming heck now I'm going to have to go to the Department of Magical Transportation and inform them that the Hogwarts Express had just been incinerated by the Luftwaffe,' Bruce ruefully chuckled to himself.
'At least it wasn't his job to explain to Headmaster Dippett what had happened or to procure a replacement train and carriages during the middle of a major war when such were rarer than hens' teeth and worth their weight in gold to the overstressed railway transport people. It would be interesting however to find out what explanation the Muggle Worthy Excuse committee came up with to disappear an entire replacement train and its carriages.'
Taking one last lingering glance at the remains of the old and reliable GWR 3700 a 'City' Class Express Bruce turned away to find a quiet place from which to apparate to the MoM to report the total destruction of the old Hogwarts Express.
By the time Bruce escaped from the clutches of the bureaucrats he was able to floo to the Leakey Cauldron in time for their early breakfast and then into the Alley where he was able to buy various food items to take back to his muggle parents along with some chocoballs and chocolate frogs to snack on in his bedroom. Thankfully here in the Alley he didn't need to use muggle rationing cards and thus could splurge a bit despite having left most of his galleons at home. He also made sure to purchase a packet of tea, some eggs, flour, honey and dried apricots for his parents despite them been uncertain if this could be considered dealing with the black market.
Saturday August 30th 1941
Bruce stood back to admire all his weeks of hard work. It had taken him days to properly clean and repair the damage that the sheer wear and tear of unrelenting war time service had caused to locomotive number 5972 and its carriages.
The way the ward mistress modified the new wards meant that while everyone in the yards knew there was a pre-war GWR 4900 (Hall class) with its own permanent set of carriages located on the unobservable tracks behind the work sheds just as everyone 'just knew' they were reserved for 'security' runs and thought and spoke no more about it. Bruce was happy about it as he could discretely use magic to do the maintenance work required as well as requisition the better grade coal and other required items.
He stood their reminiscing about how his families lives had changed since his graduation from Hogwarts in June of '39. In November that year he had managed to get a coveted job with the railways working in the wagon workshop at Bow. Soon he was employed full time specialising in repairing defaced and damaged woodwork. When the war came his job soon became a 'protected' occupation and his 2 older brothers had both volunteered for the Royal Marines in 1939; now both were 'at sea' - Eric in the Med while Nick was at Scapa Flow. Luckily his married sister was living in the country so was able to get fresh food; unfortunately her farm was down in Kent and within easy biking distance of a busy RAF airfield.
All in all the Roberts family were much better off now than they had ever been in years. Since his graduation from Hogwarts Bruce got steady work near home building and repairing train carriages. Oddly enough it had turned out that this was the home depot for the Hogwarts Express. Just last September he had used this to get assigned by the MoM for a permanent position working on the same old train he travelled to and from Scotland on for 7 years.
Now he could use magic freely his family had come up with some quite tricky ways of disguising and explaining the seemingly 'magical touch' he had with woodwork. They had come up with the idea of simply saying he really did have a 'way with woodwork' since they could hardly say he was a wand wielding transfiguration expert. In the summer months before war was declared his father had supervised Eric, Nick and Bruce as they built a shed out back for Bruce to 'work' in. since then many of the neighbours could honestly say they had their own bits and pieces that Bruce had repaired in his shed. His dad would keep track of the bartering in exchange for goods or some favour.
Once Bruce had graduated he had been able to turn his knack in working with wood along with his ability to permanently transfigure wooden objects into a handy little sideline that had bought a trickle of money into the household. So far he had also managed to improve the quality of much of their own furniture such as his sisters bedroom dresser that had been made of cheap pine was now a quality cedar dresser that they'd been able to sell for 15 quid at the market. Bruce and his father knew that in a better quality market before the war they'd have made more but here and now they were quite pleased with themselves. Slowly under his father's guidance they had built up a small sideline in refurbishing old furniture – Bruce did the magical and heavy lifting while his dad did the polishing and finishing.
The really useful spinoff of his ability was that even before the war he had gotten his hands on a small chunk of quality Welsh coal and take it home where he used it as the model for the various items that he permanently transfigured into coal for his mum. Very happily this directly translated into his mum being able to effectively but discretely ignore fuel rationing. Oh they still ensured that the ration was collected and used (after he'd improved it) as they didn't want question being asked. She was able to keep not just their stove burning for hours but each of the other fireplaces were lit during the evening so the house stayed reasonably warm during the cold months. Of course being able to similarly get hold of cleaning supplies, mops etc certainly helped his mums housekeeping budget. He also ensured that there were no unexplainable 'surplus' or black market items that any muggle searcher could find on their property by magically hiding everything under blood wards.
Bruce was quite happy. He had everything ready for tomorrow when the meek, mild mannered muggle engine number 5972 would drop her disguise and depart on her maiden voyage into the world of Wizarding Britain. Only a mile or two away at Kings Cross she would don her new identity as the magical mystery train, the Hogwarts Express before departing for Hogsmeade, Scotland and then her twice a week scheduled run under her muggle identity as the Olton Hall.
Everything was ready for her debut tomorrow, Sunday September 1st 1941.
Bruce rubbed his hands together in satisfaction. Everything was ready for her final inspection by Mr Renton the yard inspector in 20 minutes and the MoM people were over yesterday evening to put the last few charms and wards on her to ensure she would go about her work in peace like her counterpart the Knight Bus. Now she should be able to ignore any item smaller than a Clydesdale horse on the tracks as well as survive been strafed or bombed by the Luftwaffe. Once this shift was over he could go home, have a good hot bath, a decent meal then pack his bag for the overnight run to Scotland on Sunday and back to Kings Cross as the scheduled stopping all stations on Monday. The MoM had an arrangement with a widow in Hogsmeade who lived near the station; she kept 3 bedrooms all year round for the train staff. She was paid regardless of the usage so she was quite happy at the easy money. She normally only had to provide dinner, a bed and breakfast for the 3 man crew 3 nights a week each week though the Hogwarts express run could occasionally alter the schedule.
An hour later the newly promoted and exhilarated Bruce Roberts left for his day off. Thankfully as he'd passed his probationary period he was now been paid as a full adult by the railway and, much to several of his ex-housemates later displeasure when they found out, the MoM said he qualified as a railway specialist so he was actually receiving a full pay packet from them as well as the specialist stipend and a 'away from home on MoM business' stipend which he was happy to find was actually twice as much again as his – new - ordinary pay rate due to some old pureblood ruling and the stipend was tax free! Effectively he was earning almost 4 full pay packets each week and Inland Revenue only knew about one of them. Tonight he'd get some butterbeer for mum and a bottle of Old Ogden's firewhiskey to share with his dad.
The End
