The train pulled into King's Cross Station and slowed as it drew up alongside the platform, before finally coming to a halt. Doors slid open along its length and disgorged a crowd of passengers, who swarmed in a living sea as they flowed towards the exit. Even at this distance, even with her failing eyesight, Bathilda could not miss her great-nephew Gellert.

A tall youth with a mane of golden hair and cold, disdainful features, he stood with a faded green travelling bag in one hand and a parcel in the other, scanning the crowd for any sign of a familiar face. When he saw Bathilda, his eyebrows rose and he marched over to her.

"Großtante Bathilda!" he said warmly, his face breaking into a broad smile. It was a striking smile, one that crinkled up his eyes and transformed his arrogant features into something mischievous and playful. "It has been a long time since I have last seen you!"

"Gellert, my boy," Bathilda said, reaching up to touch a hand to his cheek. "It's good to see you again. You get taller and more handsome every time we meet."

He laughed. "And you get shorter. But also more beautiful. I am thinking it is this English countryside. It seems your air must be healthier than ours."

"Don't tease me, you cheeky boy," she scolded him. "I'm an old bat and I know it. And I'm sharp enough to know when I'm being flattered, too. Now, you come along with me. There's a coach waiting for us." She glanced at the bag in his hand. "You must be tired after your trip. Let me carry that for you."

"No, it's no trouble," Gellert said. "A simple Locomotor Charm will do." He drew his wand out of his pocket.

"Put that thing away, boy!" Bathilda hissed. "We don't do magic like that! Not out here, where the Muggles can see us!"

A frown creased Gellert's brow. "But why should we care what the Muggles think? Surely we wizards should not be frightened of them?"

"It's against the law to cast spells where Muggles might notice! Now you don't want to get in trouble on your first day here, do you, not after what happened in Germany?"

Gellert didn't say a word more, but after a few seconds he slipped his wand back into his pocket and picked up his bag. "I'll carry it," he said shortly. "Lead the way."

They walked to the coach in silence.

Soon they were settled in and the coach was rocking and swaying on its way out of the city. Gellert was quiet at first, and Bathilda thought he might still be upset from what happened at the station, but after a while he seemed to become cheerful again. He spent equal amounts of time gazing out of the window and staring at the other passengers.

"You have many fine buildings in London," he said approvingly. "But these are all Muggle buildings. Wizard architects could build much finer ones."

"Gellert..." Bathilda said. "How is your mother?"

"She is well." He threw a disapproving look at the other passengers. "All Muggles, I suppose?" His lip twitched slightly.

"Yes, most of them," Bathilda replied. "Not that it makes much difference. Now, is it true you were expelled from Durmstrang?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

He stared at her. "Because the Headmaster of Durmstrang does not understand genius."

"Is that why, Gellert?" Bathilda returned her great-nephew's gaze defiantly, though she was a little frightened of him. "I heard that you did some... bad things."

Gellert turned his gaze back to the window. "People were jealous of my genius. Their envy turned to fear. So they made up stories about me. They were all scared that I would be more powerful than them, so they wanted to get rid of me. Well, I will show them."

They rode on in silence for a long time before Gellert spoke again. When he turned to face Bathilda, an intense fire blazed in his icy blue eyes. "This Godric's Hollow is a quiet place?"

"Yes, it's very peaceful."

"Good. I need some time to myself, to think. Tell me about this Dumbledore boy."

"Oh, you'll like him. He's a very nice young man. He's looking forward to meeting you."

"And he is intelligent, ja?"

"Very bright. Just like you. He was top of every class in his school. Research wizards from all over the world write to him."

"Sehr gut." Gellert leaned back, looking satisfied. "I am much looking forward to meeting him also. I am hoping he will help me with my English. And... other things."

Bathilda frowned. She didn't know what these "other things" were, but she was beginning to regret getting Dumbledore involved with her great-nephew.