The Son of the Prime Minister

"Didn't you just stand with the Minister for Magic on the platform?", a curly-haired blond boy, apparently also a first-year, suddenly asked Albus cheerfully.

"Yes", said Albus, "she's my aunt."

"My dad is well acquainted with her, too. He is the Prime Minister. The Muggle Prime Minister, as you say here. And he's a good friend of your aunt. By the way, my name's Bernard, but call me Bernie, Bernie Wildfellow."

"Albus Potter. But – a friend of my aunt?"

"Yes, they talk a lot."

"Really?" Albus marveled. As far as he knew, the Ministry of Magic used to contact the Muggle government only in the most urgent emergencies. At least that's what his dad said, and he had to know.

"Sure. I needed a special permission to come to Hogwarts, and I got it from your aunt. Without her Ministry wizards, I would never have got through the barrier on platform nine and three-quarters. I was supposed to go to Eton. I almost fainted when my dad told me the day before yesterday that I would go to a school where you learn doing magic. Magic! It's so coooooooool! When I tell my friends and do magic for them ..."

"You won't tell them anything, let alone do magic," a boy with glasses and sticky-out ears intervened.

"Why not?" Bernie seemed baffled and disappointed.

"Because it is imperative to keep the Muggle world in the dark that there is such a thing as magic. Otherwise the Muggles might panic, or even a war between Muggles and wizards might break out".

He put on a statesmanlike expression, just like Uncle Percy did when starting one of his speeches and indeed, he sounded Percy-like when lecturing:

"Magical skills imply enormous responsibility. Everything the wizard does, he must do considering this responsibility ..." Albus snorted with laughter and many others – the first-years' crowd having grown considerably in the meantime – also couldn't help laughing.

"If you are going to apply for Prefect, you are five years too early," Albus mocked. "Better tell us your name."

"Horatio," said the boy. "Horatio Horn."

"Hor-Hor," shouted one, and again everyone laughed. And suddenly they were all talking to one another and each of them to himself. It didn't matter, everyone had somebody to share his excitement with. The brand new wands were handed around and looked at with a connoisseur's expression, and they showed each other the pets they had brought along: Albus for example had his owl Athena with him, Horatio a tortoiseshell cat, Bernie a tabby cat called "Pizza".

"Pizza?" Albus asked, puzzled.

"Well," laughed Bernie, "when my Mum asked me what name I wanted to give her, I misheard. I thought she was asking me what I wanted for lunch."

Bernie seemed to be a nice guy, but he had no idea about the wizarding world. He seriously asked if Hogwarts had a fast Wi-Fi installed and obviously didn't understand why some of his new friends were laughing out loud. (Not all of them, because most of them did not even know what WiFi actually is). Jennifer, a freckled girl with long red hair reminding Albus of Rose, explained it to him:

"There's not even electricity at Hogwarts, let alone Wi-Fi, internet or anything like that."

"Really?" Bernie couldn't believe it.

"Really. Do you have a smartphone?"

"Sure", confirmed Bernie, proudly drawing out his brand new device.

"You can put that away until Christmas," said Jennifer with a grin. "The next Muggle village where you could find a service is a two-hour walk away. But anyway, you are not allowed to leave Hogwarts."

"No electricity, no phone, no TV ... How can you live like that?"

"What we do is much more exciting than anything you will ever see on TV, count on it," Albus said. "And anyway: We can do magic, what do we need electricity for?"

"Well, but I am supposed to let my parents know when I am at Hogwarts. How do I do that without a phone?"

"Send them an owl," Jennifer said calmly, and Bernard was visibly unsure whether she wanted to make fun of him.

"An owl?"

"Of course," Albus said, "why do you think I have one? You may also use the school owls, but they are not as fast.

Bernie stared at him in disbelief. Suddenly he snorted with laughter. "I just imagine what will be in the paper tomorrow when an owl is flying into my dad's office in Downing Street."

Some, namely those who knew what Downing Street was, joined in his laughter.

These and similar conversations made the hours fly by, and Albus met so many new people, learned so many names, cracked so many jokes that he was getting tired of it all. No wonder, this night he hadn't slept for excitement, his head was buzzing.

He thought it might be a good idea to return to the compartment and sit down for a moment.

Looking up the corridor once again he saw, a few steps away, a thin blonde boy with a pointed chin, clearly a Malfoy, whose name Scorpius he had picked up anywhere, and who, in a second first-year crowd, seemed to talk big. Probably, he was recruiting his future entourage.

Thank God I won't have much to do with him, Albus thought with satisfaction, he will be a Slytherin, what else? With this comforting thought he entered the compartment the girls had meanwhile left to look around in the train. He let himself fall on his seat – and fell asleep immediately.