On September 1rst it wasn't even 10 am when Stella and I arrived on King's Cross. Though we lived relatively close to the train station, I hadn't stepped foot here for 19 years. The anxiety that I could have forgotten which one of the brick walls was enchanted with the magical barrier, got the best of me and we left the house very timely. Wouldn't be nice to miss the Express just because we couldn't find the right way to get on the platform.

It was a beautiful autumn morning. A dazzling gold sun was shining through the myriads of yellow and scarlet leaves that rained from the trees upon the heads of the passerby. The voices of starlings, sparrows, and doves chirped in bushes and on ridges of buildings. The streets were filled with leaves to the curbs and we waded through the matt of these plant stem appendages. The street sweepers seemed to give up the fight with the leaves as it was kinda useless – wherever their brooms cleared the pavement, the trees shamelessly scattered down more.

Despite the exhaust gases, the air was still crisp and much cooler than before. Even if you lived in the middle of a forest with no calendar, phone, or any other means of communication, you only had to inhale once to know that summer was over. Autumn smelled like rain, wet earth, decomposing leaves, hot chocolate, and above everything – melancholy. Because that's how I felt, thinking about my daughter not being around anymore. Now I was only getting to see her three times a year.

We had told nothing to our grandmother. My mother was still alive, but elderly and her life had lately been riddled with diseases. She had been living in a retirement home for the last two years and Stella was her biggest light, joy, and pride. My mother never came to love and admire magic. She was scared of it and in a way, resented it. Magic had taken the family house from her, almost slain her only son and she even blamed it for the premature death of my father. To find out that her beloved granddaughter was indeed a part of the community my mother was trying hard to avoid, might be too big of a shock for her. That's why Stella and I kept quiet.

Londoners hurried past us as we walked through the station. Some muttered angrily as they knocked their ankles against Stella's luggage cart. On top of all the boxes, bags and trunks sat the cage of Stella's owl that she had named Oscar. The bird's eyes darted all around the station, annoyed of being woken so early.

" Did your parents accompanied you too when you walked to the Express as a boy? " Stella asked, her knuckles white from pushing the heavy cart.

" They didn't. They couldn't, to be precise. The situation back then was very complicated and nobody could accompany me. I had to get through it on my own. "

" That must have been scary, " she said pensively. " Especially for a Muggle. I don't think I would be able to get around here without you, dad. "

I looked at the people who rushed through the station grumpy, dissatisfied, and with a wrinkle of anger between their eyebrows. For them, the ordinary Muggles, King's Cross was nothing more than a place they used every day to get to their destinations. For me, each corner was tied to memories. I recognized the dirty homeless man who was sitting in the corner next to the sweets shop the day I returned from Hogwarts and was sitting there to this day. I remembered the cashier of the flower store when I looked behind me to make sure nobody was following me and my parents. Except for its hustle and bustle and the symphony of all kinds of noises, King's Cross seemed to have jumped to 19 years old past.

I wondered where would I be today had I never known magic. How different would have my life been if Voldemort never needed me? I would have finished school without any rush and only left my childhood house when it was the right time to do so. My parents would have spent their lives there. Most likely I would have never discovered I was attracted to males. And when I had a child, I doubted they would have been magical. I couldn't believe Harry's assumptions about me having wizarding relatives. For some reason, I felt convinced that having a witch as a daughter had something to do with me being exposed to magic.

When we arrived at Platform 10, Harry and Albus were already waiting there. Seeing us approaching. Albus grinned widely at Stella, holding the rail of a cart just as full as hers. Harry and I shook hands and I looked at the wall in front of us. The excitement I felt when I took Stella out of the Muggle school she had been attending before, was breathtaking. The principal seemed very relieved as she handed me Stella's school documents.

" Hopefully you learn to control your child, Mr. Winters, " she commented, " so that the next school she'll enroll into wouldn't experience the same hardships we did. "

I said nothing, though the desire of spitting in her face that my child is so special that any other kid in this school could only dream about it, was very real. I did knock over the trash can near the door on my way out. The garbage scattering all over the office's neatly vacuumed carpet. The principal probably thought it happen by an accident. It didn't. A crumb of pettiness that would be typical to the 17-year-old Thomas still lived inside me.

Today King's Cross was busier than previously and one had to be careful with crossing the magical barrier to not attract the attention of the ambient Muggles. Harry and Albus disappeared into the wall first and, as careful as they were, didn't go unnoticed. I saw a middle-aged couple staring and pointing at the wall separating both platforms. A young lady silently walked up behind them, reaching inside her black and white coat. A moment later the couple returned to their former planned routine as if they hadn't seen anything. The Obliviator returned to her original position leaning on the corner, observing.

I took Stella's hand into mine, the wheels of the luggage cart rattled as we ran towards the brick wall. Flashbacks of me walking through the barrier 19 years ago with nothing but a single bag in my hand and deep fear in my heart flickered in my head. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw heads turning, we caught some attention as well. That didn't scare me. The employees of the Ministry will take care of those who saw what they weren't supposed to see. And then we already stepped on the other side of the barrier.

The Hogwarts Express was there, waiting. It was just the way I remembered it – the dark red steam engine, the massive iron wheels stood still on the rails, oiled and ready to go at any moment. Greyish white puffs of smoke reeked from the tall funnel. On Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, there was a crowd no lesser than its Muggle counterpart we left behind. Dozens of families of wizards and witches were strolling around with their children, checking hastily if nothing was forgotten. All kinds of animals made all kinds of noises. Stella's owl was quiet in his cage and looked almost offended, squinting the large amber eyes.

Harry walked further to meet a slender, elegantly dressed woman with red hair. I guessed that was Ginny Weasley, his ex-wife. Little redhead girl, younger than Stella, hugged Harry's waist as high as she could reach and a teenage boy, a little older than Albus, smiled at Harry. Those were his other two kids who were obviously happy to see their father. And as I watched them connecting as a family, something suddenly stung me from the inside. I realized I didn't like what I saw. I didn't like seeing them together. I didn't like Harry speaking to Ginny. And at the back of my head, I knew the word for this feeling – jealously.

I shook it off. Bullshit. The excitement of being back here was playing tricks on me. Harry and I had nothing in common anymore. So silly for me to feel as if his family was stealing his attention from me. I didn't need it. I was here because of Stella, after all. The most important thing was to make sure she boards the train safely.

In a way, I was impressed Harry and Ginny got on so well despite being divorced. I knew that wouldn't be me. I had thought many times about what I would do if Nicole appeared on my doorstep again, regretful and apologetic, begging to get back together. I might be able to get over what she did to me. But she abandoned our daughter and I would never forgive her for that. My relationship with Nicole had reduced to ashes.

Albus looked up at me. " My dad said you used to be close friends in school times. "

My heart jumped. What had Harry told his son about me? Albus's gaze pierced through my skin, heart, and soul, the boy had obviously inherited those eyes from Harry. Though being an adult, I started to feel uncomfortable in his presence.

" We were friends indeed. But it was a very long time ago. "

He looked over to where his father and siblings were standing, for some reason unwilling to go meet them as well. I wondered if Albus felt disconnected from his family. Had his mother taken any offense about the boy choosing his father instead of his mother? Had his relationship with his siblings worsened because of that? Was that the reason he didn't feel like coming over and saying hi?

" I can look after Stella, you know, " Albus said, his finger teasing the ferret through the bars of the cage, " if we get sorted in the same house. "

" Sure you can. "

I smirked slightly. The boy was trying to make it seem innocent and helpful, but I knew a crush when I saw one. In a way, I pitied Harry's son. Stella was a polite and patient, yet independent and impulsive girl. I was sure she'd appreciate Albus's attention and kindness but he didn't know he's going to piss her off fairly quickly if dragging behind her like a tail was what he planned to do all day long. Didn't warn him though. Going alone to a boarding school at the age of 11 was a good time for kids to receive their first life lessons, both magical and Muggle.

A trenchcoat material swooshed and I staggered a few steps as somebody hugged me from behind. What the hell, I thought, believing someone pushed into my back accidentally, as I didn't know anyone on this platform, except for Harry. I turned around to meet the face of a woman in her late thirties. Her hair was tied back into an elegant bun, she was smiling and the brown eyes sparkled with the energy of the 17-year-old I remembered her as.

" Hermione? "

" Thomas! Is that really you? How unexpectable to meet you here! "

A man, bigger than I recalled him to be, strutted next to her. A warm smile embedded into his now mature face and autumn wind tossed the red hair strands. Two kids held one of Ron's hands each, both redheads, looking much more like their father than their mother. I couldn't believe my eyes. The fact that Hermione and Ron had decided to entwine their lives, came as quite a shock that I tried my best not to show.

" Time flies, doesn't it? " I said, examining my friends' faces, astonished from both our reunion and their marriage.

" It definitely does, " Ron shook my hand, " what are you doing here? Accompanying Harry? "

I shook my head. " The same you do. Sending mine to Hogwarts. "

The Express whistled shrillingly. I looked at the station clock. It was 5 minutes before 11 am and students started to rush inside the train. Stella turned to me, the delicate features of her face were shaded by a shadow of sadness. We had never been apart for longer than a school day. But Stella wasn't of those children who hated to show affection to their parents in front of others. If she felt like embracing me, she did it no matter what and now Stella threw her arms around me, her head resting on my chest. Only now I fully grasped the truth that I'm not going to see her for a long time.

" I'll see you on Christmas, " I said, rubbing her back comfortingly.

" I love you, dad, " she answered quietly, sharing this moment just between the two of us.

" Love you too, my princess. Behave...as much as you can. Study hard. And don't let anybody get you down. "

Stella and Albus got on the Express, dragging their trunks behind them. They sat next to a window in a compartment with Harry's eldest son and Ron and Hermione's daughter. Oscar blinked nervously from his cage, watching the crowd on the platform. Dozens of parents waved farewell to their children as the train started to move. Stella pressed her hands against the window glass and waved to me as long as our eye contact remained unbroken. Then the Express gained speed and the compartment dashed past us, the large iron wheels clanging gratingly as the train started its long journey to Hogwarts.

Tears wetted my eyes, the chilly wind drying them before they rolled down the cheeks. I remembered the 17-year-old me watching the word behind the window of the Hogwarts Express 19 years ago just like my child did today. I remembered the intense angst I had for my life, the dread of not getting accepted among wizardkind, and the terrible sensation of isolation. I was glad to see my daughter have friends around her, because when I was in her place, I didn't. I was alone.

" She's lovely, " Harry said, standing next to me, and smiled when I turned to look at him. " You really love her, don't you? "

" More than anything. "

Glimpsing over his shoulder, I saw another face that I knew from the past. He had aged more distinctly than the rest of us but nonetheless, I recognized the person who had hated my guts and desired me obsessively at the same time. His look was following the last compartment of the Express that had turned into a dot in the distance. Then our eyes met. Only for half a second, but I knew he had identified me too.

" Is that Malfoy? "

" Yes, " Harry answered, glancing behind. " He has a son. About the age of our first-years. "

" How is he doing now? After the war? "

Harry looked at me, his eyes hard and reproaching. " Does it matter to you? "

I realized I had plucked on the wrong string. Obviously, there were things time couldn't change. Whether they still had disagreements or not, Harry didn't like hearing Draco's name. Or maybe he didn't like me talking about Draco. He had misunderstood the question I asked out of nothing but pure curiosity.

" I'm just asking. I haven't seen him just as long as I haven't seen you. "

Having shipped our children to Hogwarts, we joined other parents who had formed a line in front of the barrier in the wall. I could tell which ones were the mothers and fathers of Muggleborns, unlike the magical folks, they were looking around nervously and panicky, reminding lambs in a pit of lions. But who could blame those people – they had just found out about the existence of the supernatural. Harry sighed.

" I think Draco's fine. After the war, he and his family narrowly avoided imprisonment in Azkaban due to their last-minute switch in allegiance. Then he got married and had a son, Scorpius. As far as I know, Draco's raising his son to be more accepting than he himself was in his childhood. Voldemort's defeat gave a devastating blow to Malfoys' pureblood supremacy. "

" Sounds like he's changed then. Do you two still fight? "

" Fight? No. We have learned to tolerate each other. But friendship is impossible between us. Some things never heal, you know. "

We walked through the barrier and entered the Muggle side of King's Cross. I felt like plugging my ears. Why was it always so damn noisy when it came to Muggles? Ron and Hermione waved us goodbye from a distance as they hurried away in their business. Their little son ran after them, too young to go to Hogwarts, just like Harry's daughter.

" Ron and Hermione? Really?"

Harry laughed, revealing slight, thin wrinkles at the sides of his eyes. " Does it surprise you? "

" Honestly, yes. "

" They started dating after the war. At first, I was taken aback by their union as well. But now I can tell you for sure I have never met a more compatible and loving couple. They're like a glove and a hand. Hermione works in the Ministry alongside Ron. He's an Auror too. "

We walked out of the train station, hundreds of people scurrying past us. The weather outside had changed. The bright, relatively warm sun was gone and now the sky was covered by massive, grey rainclouds. The temperature had dropped noticeably and the cold wind made me pull the zipper of my jacket all the way to my chin. It was as if the sun had hung on for dear life in the morning but lost the battle and now the real autumn was here to stay. I shuddered.

" Are you busy? " Harry asked, his hands stuffed in pockets.

" I have to go to work. I was only given a few hours off, not a whole day. "

" Alright. See you around then. Hopefully. "

Harry smiled at me and Disapparated, leaving me all alone on the street. The first raindrops hit my face and Londoners started to fish in their bags for umbrellas. I didn't have one and went through the already damp streets, my steps splashed on the moist pavement. I entered the car workshop just in time before a heavy rainfall hit the world outside. Looking through the window, I could see nothing but a white wall of water coming down from the sky. Streams were flowing into the drain pipes that lead to sewers. A while later the windows of the workshop started to get pounded by impressive grains of hail.

I worked that day in my usual rhythm. Clients came and went, all drenched like gutter rats, mud dripping from the wheels of their cars. During the lunch break, I listened to the stories of my coworkers, many of which had taken their kids to school for the first time today. When asked, I quickly made up an innocent lie about Stella successfully being transferred to a different school. In a way, it wasn't a lie at all.

Eight hours later the rain had stopped, but the havoc left by it was yet to be gotten rid of. Broken tree branches were scattered all over the street. City decorations were knocked over. A crippled umbrella, destroyed by the strong breezes and abandoned by its owner, was lying in a puddle. A mix of rainwater, dirt and wet, decomposing leaves seeped into my shoes as I maneuvered my way home.

I stopped at the nearby store and bought a pack of cigarettes. It was a nice touch. When Stella was born, I had quit smoking completely, but of all days today felt irresistibly drawn to it. I inhaled the bitter smoke deep into my lungs and started to walk slower. The cigarette lasted just enough for me to reach my home.

Without Stella, the house felt empty, unwelcome, and cold. Everything was too quiet, my own actions were cutting into my ears. I looked at the clock. By this time, Stella must have arrived in Hogwarts, maybe gone through sorting and enjoying the feast with her new housemates. She had promised to send me a letter and I was desperately waiting for it. Especially in moments like this one, when I was totally alone.

I walked into the living room and was immediately greeted by a familiar coo. There, on the back of an armchair, sat Fawkes. The phoenix was here again, gotten inside the house somehow. I should have felt astonished but didn't. I walked up to the creature that nibbled on my hand lovingly and keenly gazed at me with his black pearls of eyes.

" Listen, " I said, patting the crest of feathers on Fawkes' head, " either you stay or you go. Enough loafing back and forth. "

Fawkes threw his head back, clacked the beak, and puffed his plumage, making himself look much bigger than he was, as a sign of offense. I turned on the TV, fell into the sofa, and closed my eyes, half-listening to the evening news and my heartbeat. At some point, I fell asleep. When I woke up, it was a deep night outside. Fawkes' hot body was warming my feet as phoenix was sleeping on me at the foot of the sofa. When I stirred to turn off the TV that was now playing some late-night show, the magical bird didn't move.

9