Harry angrily closed the window. Turning his head, he finally noticed the young children staring at him.
"What?" he snapped. "What are you looking at?"
The children startled. Quickly getting up, they took their luggage and left the compartment. When he was the only one left, Harry took his wand and after summoning his trunk moodily fell on the bench seat.
One year. He's been stuck in this century for one exact year. He's spent three hundreds and sixty-five days desperately searching for a way back to his time. And just as Mr. Evans had said he knew of a way to send him back and Harry could almost see a sliver of hope, he had to leave it and go back to school.
It was so unfair Harry wanted to cry.
How could this be true though? Patrick Evans wasn't a wizard, so how could he know something about time travel when no living wizard in this time did?
Crossing his arms, Harry started thinking about it a second. Finally he groaned.
Mr. Evans' father had been a clockmaker, one who had managed to build watches able to tell the future. Of course that man had had studied time in depth and thinking the son had learned a thing or two from his father hardly was a difficult leap. Adding to that the fact the magician personally knew Professor Mesmer and other powerful seers, it was very likely that Patrick Evans was the closest thing this century had of an expert on time.
Harry wondered what that mean to go back to the future Patrick Evans supposedly knew about could be. Was that strange watch of his some prototype of a time turner? Could it be so simple and Harry would have been back had to played with the crown the right way? Was it some other secret he was keeping that Harry had yet to learn? If that was the case, what could it be?
Closing his eyes, Harry tried to imagine it. Mentally recalling everything that had happened this summer, he tried to see what he could have missed. What secret knowledge did his ancestor have? If he were to send him an owl tomorrow morning, would he tell him and Harry would be back to the twentieth century before he could say Quidditch? Could Harry bring him to show him and that would be it? Would be like one of his magic tricks?
His reflections got interrupted by the sound of the compartment's door opening. Opening his eyes he turned to see the person who had decided to come.
He burst to laugh when he saw the wizard was wearing plum robes. "I thought it was too bold for everyday life!"
Albus widely grinned. "Well..." he brightly began with a twinkle in his blue eyes. "I suppose any occasion can justify wearing good clothings if one tries hard enough." Sitting in front of Harry, the auburn-haired continued, "Besides, it is the last day I can wear this so I wanted to make it count and enjoy the time I can still wear sensible clothes." He lightly shrugged. "I cannot say I'm too happy about wearing our uniform once more but what can I do about it?"
"Do we really have to?" Harry wondered.
"I'm afraid so."
"Even on weekends?"
Albus paused. "Maybe something can be done during our visits at Hogsmeade but…" He seemed to think about it a moment and after a shrug smiled. "I suppose I can try. Maybe something can be done though it may be better if Headmaster Black were to never see me dressed this way."
Harry snorted at the idea of the stern man spotting Albus wearing a bright plum robe or one of his most outrageous clothes.
They didn't say anything else for a couple minutes, both just enjoying the comfortable silence. Sometimes, one of them would just look at the landscape from the train window but never for too long. Sometimes, they'd just look at each other and smile.
The silence was only broken when the trolley witch entered to ask if anybody wanted sweets.
Albus predictably reached for his pocket. "One box of Bertie Bott's beans and a chocolate frog, please. What will you take, Harry?"
"Oh, I've got food."
"So do I, but surely I can tempt you with a few sweets?"
Harry shook his head. "Sorry, I can't-" He grimaced.
While he was true Harry got a galleon in his pocket, this money was for Phineas Nigellus Black. After that paying his debt, Harry would be knutless once more so he couldn't actually spend his money on anything.
"Oh." Albus paused. Finally he brightly smiled at the trolley witch. "Two chocolate frogs and two boxes of Bertie Bott's then," he told the trolley witch. "Also, I may be tempted by a few cauldron cakes now that I think about it."
Harry raised a hand. "Oh don't-"
"No, no, I insist. Sweets are made to be shared, don't you think, ma'am?" he swiftly asked the trolley witch.
She smiled. "Of course they are."
"See? If I want to eat these delicious sweets, I have no choice but to insure you do the same if I do not want to feel guilty and let this very guilt spoil the experience. Who would be cruel enough to eat such delights in front of somebody else and not propose one himself?"
Dudley.
Harry's recollection of his cousin laughing at him while eating candies stopped when he took a closer look at the witch handing him a Pumpkin Pasty.
She… looked an awful lot like the trolley witch of his time now that he was thinking about it.
Harry silently watched her leaving the compartment. "How long do you think she's been working here?" he asked him in a murmur.
Blinking several time, Albus answered, "I've never thought about it. Quite a large oversight on my part, I must confess. Though in my defence, my eyes are more focused on the sweets than my surroundings whenever the trolley comes.
Taking his own pumpkin pasty, he snorted. "Aberforth now… You cannot imagine the tales he wove in his first year about her. I tried to assure it was just a terrible nightmare but he can be quite stubborn and refuses to eat anything sweet now." After taking a large bite, he shrugged. "Apparently, she can make these delicious pumpkin pasties explode."
Outside, somebody with a hand holding a broom was difficulty trying to climb to reach the train roof.
While his plan to just fly away was in appearance simple, it was anything but. For one, he first had to reach the outside of the train. If the door was charmed to only open when it was at a station, the same could not be said of the window and using the small gap provided to slip out without losing his hold of his broom was far from easy.
For two, he had to make sure that neither his brother nor that cursed trolley witch could spot him and foil his escape. While the wizard was pretty confident his brother was too busy stuffing himself with sweets to notice what was happening outside, that trolley witch had somehow managed to foil the six previous attempts and he'd only feel safe once he was far, far away from her.
Finally reaching the rooftop, he dropped his head and took a moment to catch his breath.
When he finally raised his head he realized that standing a few feet away from him was the trolley witch.
Ignoring the wind and the fact they were on the rooftop, she nonchalantly pushed her trolley in his direction. Once she was in front of him, she smiled, "Anything from the trolley, dear?"
The wizard horrifyingly looked at her. "How did you get here?" he whispered. "You-You shouldn't- You cannot be there!"
"Neither should you, Mr. Dumbledore."
Aberforth flinched.
She sighed. "I know the view from here is lovely but surely you can enjoy it inside just the same, no?" Handing Aberforth a pumpkin pasty, she added, "It can be very dangerous for you to stay here. Why don't you be a good boy now, take this pumpkin pasty and go back inside?"
"Expelliarmus!"
The spell hit the trolley witch's hand and the pasty she had been holding fell from the train.
Behind him, Aberforth heard the sound of an explosion.
"Hands off the trolley."
"What do you think that was?" Harry asked Albus when they heard a loud noise coming from outside.
Albus looked at the compartment door. "I'm not quite sure." Leaning on the train seat, he stated, "If we were at the other side, I could have maybe made a few educated guesses. Alas, we're not so I suppose we'll never know."
"Maybe something hit the train."
"It might be possible, though highly unlikely. There are protective charms around the train, you understand."
Seeing Albus being completely unconcerned, he murmured, "Suppose you're right."
Turning his attention back to the red-haired, he tried to change subject. "So how was your holidays?"
Albus inwardly sighed.
There was a reason why he always made a point in not hasking is classmates for how their holidays had been, and it was that because he was certain he'd then be asked the same question.
While the others always had something exciting to talk about, Albus' tale always was underwhelming. While some like Elphias or Arthorius lived close by and could play Quidditch or others like Agatha or Virginia went with their respective family abroad, Albus was stuck in Godric Hollows either brooding and/or making an attempt to feed the goats when he wasn't resentfully looking at the window because no owl was coming.
Albus suddenly remembered he was supposed to be cross with the man in front of him.
"Oh I suppose I did not do much," he slowly started. Quickly recalling his list of excuses he started with, "I'm afraid I've been busy reading ahead in alchemy and writing another essay for Transfiguration Today . I have yet to learn if it will be published, though I have a good feeling about it." Crossing his arms, he finally said, "I must admit I've also been waiting for an owl from you. Owl that it turns out never came."
He had been several times at Madam Malkin's shop. While he always had managed to find a reason to go there, his mother had started to get suspicious. Using the excuse his sister needed new clothes, she had been to the shop to see what reason could have brought her oldest child to buy bright colourful clothes and go back there so regularly. And if Albus had been lucky his mother went there during Madam Malkin's assistant's one day off, he couldn't have risked her sending Aberforth to make her a report on what he thought of 'that lovely lady' he most probably met there and had no choice but to stay on the down low.
In other words, Albus's hands had been tied and he could only from that moment send owls. Not wanting to appear too keen, he had waited for Harry to take the first step and start a correspondence with him. Step he never took.
"I don't have an owl," Harry stated.
Albus stilled.
"Well, I do. I've got Hedwig but she isn't… let's just say she isn't there. I suppose Mr. Evans has his birds but… I've had a lot of my mind so I didn't really think about it. Or writing. Sorry."
"No, no!" he hurried. "It's fine. I should have- I should have remembered you don't have an owl and was as such supposed to write first. And you were working so I suppose you had very busy days." Noticing the strange expression on his face, Albus frowned. "Did you do anything besides working at Madam Malkin's shop?"
At the innocent question, Harry paused, not quite knowing where to start.
"Well, I've been helping Mr. Evans with his work. Mr. Evans is a relative of mine," he elaborated before frowning.
It felt strange to say he had a proper family. One Harry could freely talk about without feeling embarrassed or feeling like he shouldn't talk about them.
Harry wondered if he would ever get used to that feeling.
Dazedly shaking his head, he continued, "So after work, I'd go help him make his vanishing cabinet."
A spark of interest lit the red-haired boy's blue eyes. "A vanishing cabinet, you say?" he innocently murmured. "My fa- I know a thing or two on wizarding crafting so I know how precise one must be for that sort of artefacts. You must have been taught complex magic if you had to make a vanishing cabinet."
It took Harry a moment to understand why the boy was saying that. When he did, his lips turned upward. "I suppose. Mr. Evans taught me a few of his tricks on how to make a good vanishing cabinet but also a few more things." Seeing the other boy was captivated by what he was saying, he innocently added, "Wandless magic for example."
As expected, the boy in front of him moved closer to the edge of his seat and breathed, "Wandless magic? I thought it was nigh impossible! Or at the very least too rough to be used in everyday's life, let alone for such craft. How does that work?"
"Do you want me to show you?"
Albus vividly nodded.
"Alright then." After reviewing what he could realistically do, he retrieved the scarlet handkerchief in his breast pocket. "Just watch."
Albus intendly looked at his tissue.
Taking advantage of the other boy focusing on it, Harry retrieved what he had kept in his sleeve and did as Mr. Evans had showed him the day before.
When the flower appeared from the scarlet tissue, Albus drew back.
Harry barely managed to stay in character as he was looking at these blue eyes dazedly blinking. When he spotted the exact moment the red-haired realized what had truly happened, he couldn't stop himself from giving him a proud grin.
At the sight of his smile, Albus suddenly burst to laugh.
Between two laughing fits, Albus managed to say, "Well it is wandless magic!"
Harry laughed and put the handkerchief back to his breast pocket, feeling oddly proud of himself.
"And how does it work?" Albus leant even more on the edge of the train seat. "How did you do it? The rose was in your sleeve, right?"
Harry faked a sigh and looked away. "I'm not supposed to say."
"Please?"
"Now that I think about it, isn't there some statute of secrecy on this? I'm pretty sure there is."
"Pretty please?"
From the corner of his eyes, Harry looked at his friend.
Seeing the other boy was now pouting, he chuckled. "Don't tell anybody I showed you."
Albus vividly nodded.
"Alright then," he started, "first you've got to do this…"
On the train roof, the trolley witch sadly looked at Aberforth.
"You could have just told me you didn't want my pumpkin pasty," she said. "You didn't have to throw the trolley out of the train. What did these sweets even do to you?"
Aberforth gasped for breath. "Sugar makes your teeth rot."
The trolley witch pensively nodded. "That is true, I suppose. From a certain point of view you're not wrong, but there is a reason why muggles invented toothbrushes and we have Toth's mouth bath. Sweets also have many qualities. For example, it brings people together. Think about it: two young boys are on a train. They are both wondering if they will fit in that new school their parents send them to, some of them even going to an outright new world. They're both rightfully worried but there is a box of Bertie Bott's beans between them and they can't help opening it and eating a few. And suddenly, they're two friends laughing at the flavours they get and looking forward to this new adventure they're going to face together. In light of that, the good outweighs the bad by far, no?"
Aberforth glared at her.
"Think about it. Wouldn't you prefer be enjoying your ride with your friends and having a good time instead of attempting to leave this train every time you have to go back to Hogwarts?"
"No."
The trolley witch didn't say anything for moment. Finally she raised her head. "I'm sure you miss home, but it isn't good to look behind the way you do. You should be looking forward to this new year instead and allow yourself to open up to people over two chocolate frogs and a good game of exploding snap. So please, go back to your train compartment. For your own good."
For a second, Aberforth considered it. He considered going back and finding either his brother or his housemates and bitching about having to endure Prince this year again or awaiting the moment Albus would find a Bertie Bott's bean he didn't like and make that constipated face that always made him snicker.
It was only for a second though. The next one, he pointed his wand at the trolley witch. "I can't stay there," he informed her, "and school is really not for me. So I'm leaving."
"No, you're not."
"Like this then?" Albus asked as he took the rose Harry had given him from his sleeve.
"Like that."
As he took the hand of man next to him and showed him how to do the trick, Harry couldn't help thinking it was funny how clumsy Albus Dumbledore could be sometimes. A genius like him, Harry would have thought he would be able to do it as soon as Harry had explained it.
He supposed even Albus Dumbledore was allowed to be bad at magic once or twice.
"Ah yes, like that," Albus absent-mindedly murmured as he looked at their joined hand. "Makes more sense."
Harry followed his gaze and paused when he saw their hands around a red rose.
Quickly taking his hand off, he tried a smile and uncomfortably coughed. "Try again."
Something passed over Albus' face. Before Harry could figure what it was, it was gone. "Very well then. Here I go."
He did it perfectly.
Harry beamed. "Congratulation! You can do wandless magic now."
Albus' lips twitched. "I've got a good teacher." With a low chuckle, he put the flower in his sleeve. "If I can be honest a second, I've never thought much of prestidigitation before. Sure, it is admirable how muggles attempt to imitate what we wizards can do but I cannot help feeling sorry for them at the thought they will never see the real thing. But you know what? It was fun."
Turning to him, the Gryffindor showed him the red napkin. Before Harry could blink, there suddenly was a red rose in his hand.
"There you go." With a soft smile, he presented him the flower. "For you."
Harry paused and numbly looking at the red rose the other boy was offering, not quite knowing what to do.
"You-" he stuttered and looked away. "You don't have to."
"It's your flower," he heard the other boy pointing out.
"Well, you can keep it."
"Harry."
"What?" Sharply turning his head, he looked at these deep blue eyes. Suddenly tongue-tied, he winced.
It seemed like he wasn't the only one feeling awkward thankfully. Biting his lower lip, Albus hesitated. Leaning forward, he murmured, "Harry, I-"
The door to their compartment opened.
The two boys startled and rushed to put as much distance between them as they could.
"There he is!" Harry heard Elphias Doge's voice exclaiming. "And Potter is here too."
Albus blankly looked at the wizard by the door. "Elphias," he just stated.
Entering the compartment, the blonde wizard greeted Harry, "Hello Potter. How were your holidays?"
"F-Fine, I guess," he replied as he saw behind the blonde wizard Virginia Selwyn.
"We were getting worried," Elphias answered Harry's unasked question. "Albus told us he was going to check the compartments and greet the younger students but as he wasn't coming back we were starting to think maybe something happened."
"Elphias."
He ignored the interruption. "Still, I'm happy to see you didn't miss the train. Albus was really worried you know? He didn't say anything of course but it was clear he was. At the platform, he kept looking for you so I had to drag him-"
"Elphias."
Elphias turned his head and paused at the sight the red-haired who was now giving him a strange smile. "Why don't you join us at the back of the train?" he proposed. "Everybody in our year is here. Sure, it's a little crowded but there should be enough place for you and trunk."
Harry sighed and got up. "Sure. If you say everybody's here."
"That reminds me, have you seen your brother, Albus? We didn't find him on our way here. If I didn't know better, I'd say he wasn't there."
"He is. Believe me, I made sure he couldn't miss the train. He's probably just sulking somewhere we can't find him as we speak."
On the train's rooftop, Aberforth took a step back.
"Three years…" the trolley witch mumured. "For three years you've tried every September and every January to leave this train. Do you honestly believe seven times is going to be the charm? You may think you're being bold and smart, you're far from the first one who's tried to leave the Hogwarts express nor will you be the last."
She didn't have her trolley anymore, Aberforth tried to reassure himself. If he didn't want to go that far, he could curse her if she were to reach for her wand. He had the advantage there.
"Since Ottaline Gambol inaugurated this train and gave me this job, I've made sure everybody was happy and had a good time during the travel. Never- never- Never have I let anyone off this train before they reached their destination. Oh, many have tried to escape. That's true. But you know how many failed doing what you're trying to do?"
And in front of Aberforth's horrified eyes, the trolley witch's hand turned into long and sharp spikes.
"ALL OF THEM. ALL HAVE FAILED. YOU HAVE FAILED AND YOU WILL FAIL AGAIN. BECAUSE THIS TRAIN... IT DOESN'T LIKE PEOPLE GETTING OFF IT."
Aberforth loudly swore and ran away. Looking over his shoulder, he saw the trolley witch running at an impressive speed.
Remembering the broom in his left hand, he unceremoniously mounted it, praying for it to work.
The trolley witch's spikes were touching his red hair when he finally took off.
Once he was a few feet above the train, he looked at the trolley witch on the train rooftop.
Finally he laughed.
He's done it!
He's done it. He's escaped this hell and could now go home. Sure, his mother was going to be cross with him, but he was sure she was going realize in time that it was better this way. His mother wouldn't have to deal with all the problems at home alone, his sister wouldn't have to be alone yet another year and his brother wouldn't have to feel so embarrassed whenever he'd see him.
Time to go home now.
As he was about to turn and leave, Aberforth noticed the trolley witch kneeling.
She jumped.
And under his horrified eyes, the trolley witch began flying in his direction, her spikes gleaming in the sun.
He screamed.
When Albus and the others went back to the compartment, Virginia sat next to Harry.
Playing with a strand of her flaming red hairs, she asked the Gryffindor, "So how was you holidays, Potter? Did you do anything? Besides working at Madam Malkin's' shop and trying to look at witches' ankles that is," she added with a sly smile.
Harry spluttered, face turning crimson. "It was an accident."
"I'm sure it was."
"Wait, what?" Artorius sharply turned his head. "You did what, Potter?"
Harry groaned and hid his face in his hands when Virginia started explaining.
Albus supposed it should be expected that everybody knew Harry had been working at Madam Malkin's' shop. It was where every student went to buy their uniform after all and Harry had naturally had to fit their clothes to their size. And if it seemed like he had done well most of the time, his spell had gone a little haywire when he's had to fit Virginia's robe and it had shortened it to a point everybody has had a good look at her ankles.
It had naturally provoqued quite an incident in the shop.
"It was an accident!" the apprentice tailor exclaimed when everybody started giving him judgemental looks.
"I believe you," Virginia reassured him and softly patted his leg.
Albus blankly looked at her. "Virginia..."
"What?" Flipping her flaming red hair, she gave him a sweet smile. "Jealous, Albus?"
It took him all his efforts to smile.
"Frankly, seeing everybody so shocked and running in all sense to cover my 'dignity' was the most fun I've had this summer", she continued. "It's just ankles. There's no reason to make such a scene because of a little accident." Turning to Harry, she asked in a sweet voice, "Don't you agree?"
Face crimson, the young man vividly nodded.
Before he could do anything, Albus heard the door abruptly opening.
And under everybody's incredulous eyes, a shaking Aberforth who seemed to have been at the wrong end of a fight entered the compartment. In a very small voice, his little brother murmured, "Albus."
Albus immediately got up. "What happened." When his brother didn't answer and started shaking, he demanded, "Who did this to you?"
"You-" he difficulty swallowed. "You've got to hide me."
"It's the Slytherins, isn't it?"
Albus knew he was part of of the reason why Slytherins liked picking on his brother. And though it always pained him, he couldn't interfere as much as he wished. Not only wouldn't Aberforth let him, he had no illusion they were doing this to have his attention and giving them just that would only make things worse.
But if they refused to listen to reason…
Aberforth weakly shook his head. "The-The…
"Yes?" he urged. "Who did this, Aberforth?"
"The-the-"
"The?"
"The trolley witch is an automaton."
Albus dazedly blinked. "The trolley witch," he numbly repeated. "The trolley witch is an automaton."
"Yes!" Sharply raising his head he looked at the people in the compartment and exclaimed, "The trolley witch is not, in fact, a witch! She's not even human! The trolley witch is an automaton! She's an automaton just like dad's-"
"Where do you even get such idea, Aberforth?" Albus incredulously exclaimed. "It- What makes you think this lovely woman is an automaton? It makes no sense."
"Yes, it does!" With a strange fire in his eyes, he proclaimed, "It explains everything, in fact. Has anybody ever wondered why nobody's ever seen a controller here?" Not waiting for an answer he fervently answered his own question, "That's because she's the controller. She comes in the compartment and feels the magic of the ticket in our pockets. That being done, she offers sweets but don't be fooled! She's an automaton the station created to insure we behave and to protect the train. That's why the sweets she makes explode!"
Albus sighed. "Oh Aberforth." Not that silly story again.
"These bloody sweets!" he screamed. "They're not here for no reason! She's trying to keep everybody complacent! Make sure we stay put, it's the carrot she hangs in front of us so we do as we're told!"
"Why don't you sit down?" Taking his little brother by the shoulders, he softly made him sit on his seat.
"We've got to warn everybody!" Giving Albus a pleading look, he begged, "You've got to tell everybody we're all in grave danger. If her programming ever goes wrong and she makes all the sweets the students ate explode..."
"Yes, yes. I'll tell everybody. Just… stay here, will you? I'll go- I'll go warn the driver."
There was something very young in his little brother's eyes. "Be careful."
"I will be. I'll even go with Virginia if that makes you feel better."
Virginia blankly looked at him. "Why?"
Because that way he could keep an eye on her. "We're both prefects," he reminded her. "Isn't it our common duty to check what my brother said?"
With a sigh, she got up. "Fine, fine. I'll go with you."
"We're going to check. You just… You just rest, Aberforth."
Aberforth shakily nodded.
Once Albus had closed the door's compartment behind him, he sighed.
"You don't actually believe him, do you?"
"I believe he believes what he told me," he answered her. "Did he have a terrible nightmare? That is possible. It is most probably what happened, in fact, but it doesn't hurt to check. Also, I need to talk with the new Headboy and apologize to him for missing the meeting."
She rolled her eyes. "Frankly, you didn't miss much. It was so boring I almost fell asleep once or twice. I hope you'll make next year's meeting a little more lively when you become Headboy," she said as they headed to the front of the train.
Albus gave her a well-practiced smile. "I'm flattered you think I will become Headboy."
She unceremoniously snorted. "Oh please. Don't do the fake modesty thing on me. The way you're handling everything and with marks like yours, everybody knows you will be headboy."
"I hope you're right then. Personally, I like to remind myself that this might not happen in order not to be disappointed if I weren't to be chosen."
The thing was, Albus was pretty sure he was not going to become Headboy.
Yes, on paper Albus Dumbledore was a good candidate. If he could allow himself to boast a little, Albus was of the mind he was in his year the one who deserved the position the most.
Problem was, if teachers proposed the name of those they deemed worthy, it was ultimately Headmaster Black who decided who got the badge.
Needless to say, Headmaster Black wasn't very fond of him. It was regrettable, truly. Ever since Albus had demonstrated on an article on astronomy that a few calculations the former Astronomy professor had made several years ago were wrong, the older man had made it clear he didn't like having a twelve years old show everybody he's made a mistake in his preferred field and would want nothing more but to take him down a peg or two.
Adding to that the fact that Albus was not a pureblood and was in the same year as his second child, he was ready to bet his wand that it'd be Phineas Black Junior who'd become Headboy, if only because of who his father was.
There was something incredibly unfair about it all. About living in a world where your birth decided your place in the world and no incredible feat of magic could change it. At the end of the day, he'd always be 'just' a half-blood and people with less skills than he will get the position he was seeking because he happened to be born in the 'right' family.
As Albus went to ask the conductor when they were going to arrive, he couldn't help daydreaming about living in a world when there was no such thing as purebloods, halfbloods and muggleborns. One when those who were the most gifted got the place they deserved and could help leading their world to a better place.
When the train stopped, Harry loudly sighed and got up.
Unlike the other times Harry had taken the Hogwarts Express, Harry wasn't particularly looking forward to the Welcoming feast and the new year. He knew he should be but he just couldn't. So what if he was finally going to learn something new and even try his luck at alchemy? He's been stuck here for an entire year and, if Mr. Evans' words were to be trusted, he could go back to his time right now if he wasn't stuck here.
As Albus and the other Gryffindors walked ahead, Harry walked at a slower pace next to a brooding Aberforth.
As Albus had declared he hadn't seen anything suspicious and the driver had been baffled at the Fourth Year's story, it had been decided he's just had a terrible nightmare. Needless to say, Aberforth hadn't liked this conclusion at all.
"So… how was your holidays?" Harry tried making conversation.
From the corner of his eyes, the younger boy suspiciously looked at him. After a few seconds, he carefully answered, "Good, I guess. A bit weird but good."
"Weird in what way?"
"My brother started dressing like a clown."
"He does not dress like a clown!" Harry violently protested.
"You say that because you made him buy that shit." He snorted. "You should have seen our mother's face when he came back wearing purple. At least some had a good laugh. Can't say the same about me, sadly."
"Why?" he wondered as they were getting into the carriage led by a thersal.
His face darkened. "Who do you think is going to wear these horrors when he outgrows them?"
Harry numbly looked at the boy sitting in front of him, suddenly realizing he hadn't seen the Fourth Year in the clothing shop once .
Harry tilted his head and tried to imagine the wizard in front of him wearing Albus' new clothes. He tried to imagine Aberforth in two years wearing his brother's beloved plum robe. Or the blue nightdress with neon yellows bees flying on the tissue.
He burst to laugh.
"That's not funny!" he shrieked, cheeks red in embarrassment.
But no matter how hard Aberforth tried to make him stop laughing, Harry just couldn't.
It was a shame he'd be gone when Aberforth would have no choice but to wear that plum robe, he thought. If the clothes somehow fitted the older brother, he was pretty sure the younger sibling wouldn't quite manage to pull it off.
"I wonder what alchemy will be like," Elphias mused as the horseless carriage were leading them to the castle. "What do you think our teacher is going to be like, Albus?"
"While I do not know who is going to teach us, I think it is safe to assume that person is going to be a distinguished wizard of a certain age with an extended knowledge on potion, charm and philosophy. Have you started reading The Book of the Hieroglyphic Figures?" Seeing the other boy nodding, he breathed, "Fascinating, isn't it?"
"That's not how I'd call it, really," he mumbled. "I suppose we'll find out soon enough. I can only hope I'm not going to be too terrible at it and that the teacher isn't remotely going to be like Prince. Sorry, Professor Prince."
Before Albus could reassure him, the carriage stopped. With a big smile, Albus opened the door of the carriage and left.
When Albus Dumbledore saw the castle whose windows were sparkling in the starry sky, his heart skipped a beat and he couldn't stop a soft smile.
He didn't think he'd ever tire of the view. He could watch Hogwarts every day for an entire century, he had no doubt that he'd enjoy the sight of that magnificent castle just as much as the first time he had seen it at eleven. With a wide grin, he started walking with Elphias in the direction of the oak front door, already looking forward to this new year.
After two months stuck at Godric Hollows, Albus was home again.
