The next day, Harry and the adults left Nessel Rode and hopped on the taxi to Logan International Airport for the return flight back to Surrey. Moments after the group disembarked from the taxi cab, Roger gave Harry a look. "I'm not a hundred percent sure how these Muggle airlines work, Harry, but my guess is that they won't just take Hedwig along for the ride. We're either going to have to pay a ridiculous fee, or she's going to have to find her own way home."

Rhonda nodded in agreement. "We're already going to have to pay extra for the additional baggage… I can't imagine how much it would cost to transport an owl on top of it!"

"She's a clever girl, Harry," Sirius assured his godson. "Just let her out of her cage and let her find her way back home… it may take her a few days, but she'll get back to Surrey in one piece. I promise."

Harry nodded, and whispered to his new avian companion. "I'm going to let you out, Hedwig. Can you find me at 57 Skylark Place in Surrey, British Columbia?" Hedwig cocked her head and made a soft squawking sound, which Harry took as an affirmative. "That's my girl," Harry said, stroking his snowy owl's feathers. "I'll see if I can have a little treat for you when you arrive. Be safe!" He opened the little hatch, which Hedwig slipped through with ease. She then squawked again with appreciation, and fluttered off in a general westward direction.

Sirius placed a knowing hand on Harry's shoulder and smiled. "She's not as fast as these crazy 'jet engines', but she's definitely more reliable. Just be patient – she'll be home before you know it." He smirked at Harry. "I'm happy for you, pup. Looks like you got yourself more than just school supplies; you've picked yourself up a keeper of a friend." He gave Harry a sly wink. "And a cute one at that." His dark, stringy hair jiggled as he shook his head. "So much like your father… he was a bit of a ladies' man in his day, but your mum convinced him to settle down a bit."

Harry groaned. "I'm not looking for a girlfriend, Padfoot. Cripes, I've literally just turned eleven…"

Sirius tousled Harry's messy black hair. "I'm just ribbin' ya, pup. But don't be surprised if she starts to blossom, and you look at her as more than a friend. That day may come sooner than you think."

"Not going to happen," Harry shot back. "I'll be perfectly happy being a bachelor for life."

"There's nothing wrong with following your godfather's footsteps," chuckled Sirius. "But don't forget, I'm a most eligible bachelor. I'm just biding my time for the right witch to come along."

"Or," chimed in Roger, "a charming woman with talents other than magic just might sweep you off your feet, Padfoot." He wrapped an arm around Rhonda, holding her tightly as he planted a smooch on her forehead.

"Touché, Rog," Sirius said, pointing a finger at his friend.

"Do you think he'll ever settle down?" Harry asked Roger and Rhonda. Both of them merely laughed before shaking their heads.

The four made their way to the ticket counter, handed over their baggage, and made their way to the terminal to await their flight back to Vancouver. Rhonda had to occasionally nudge Sirius as she could tell he was mentally undressing some of the female passengers. Can't take you anywhere in public, Black, she thought.

The flight back to Vancouver was long, but fairly pleasant. After all their baggage had been gathered, Roger and Rhonda dropped Sirius off at his gaudy penthouse flat in downtown Vancouver, and forty five minutes later the rest of the group had pulled into their quiet, unassuming townhome in Surrey.

Harry wasted no time getting acquainted with his new textbooks. For the next several days, he went over the Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1 in his bedroom. He didn't have a wand to practice yet, so he used a plain brown stick to practice the movements that went along with casting the spells. He couldn't wait to get his actual wand and cast real spells – at least getting the incantations and movements down would make things that much easier, he figured.

About a week after returning from magical Boston, Harry was busy going over his course texts when he heard a rapping at his bedroom window one morning. He jumped for joy when he recognized his snowy owl. "Hedwig!" he yelped, as he let his companion in. "I knew you'd make it back! I'll see if I can cook you up a bit of crumbled sausage." She squawked, and dropped a small white envelope on his desk.

He immediately noticed that the envelope had the Ilvermorny seal on it, so he knew right then and there that the contents would be important. He quickly opened the envelope, which contained a brief letter and what appeared to be a train ticket of sorts:

"Dear Mister Potter,

We hope this note finds you well. As you should already be aware, the 1991-92 term starts on September 1st. We have arranged your transportation to the castle – please bring the enclosed ticket to University Street Station in Seattle, Washington no later than ten o'clock AM on August 30th. You will board the Ilvermorny Chinook, one of several North American Underground Railway System (NAMURS) trains owned and operated by the Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

To board the Chinook, you will need to find the Cerulean Platform. Do not be alarmed if you don't see the Cerulean Platform immediately – it is hidden from the non-magical public for a reason. Simply look between the Blue and Green platforms; the portal to the Cerulean Platform lies in that barrier. Be mindful of the time – the portal is open for exactly one hour; at the stroke of ten o'clock, the portal will close.

The ride to Ilvermorny takes two days' time; each compartment comes with bunks for resting and latrines for changing. There will be a dining car for meals, and another compartment to socialize with other children – tables for cards or wizard's chess will be provided.

We look forward to seeing you for the Start of Term feast, and we hope you have a magical year!

Sincerely,

Professor Emaline Goode

Deputy Headmistress"

Harry practically flew to the kitchen, where he found Rhonda and Roger having some coffee together. "Aunt Rhonda! Uncle Roger! Hedwig's back," he said as he tried to catch his breath. "And she brought me this!" He placed the envelope on the table, and Roger picked it up between sips of his coffee.

"You've got a bit longer ride than Sirius and I had," chuckled Roger. "It took less than a day for us on the Hogwarts Express. And if it's anything like how Platform 9 and ¾ worked…"

"Platform 9 ¾?" Harry asked quizzically.

"It's easier to show you than to tell you," explained Roger. "I'm pretty sure it works the same way."

"Oh, okay," sighed Harry, a little disappointed he wasn't going to find out more. His face brightened again. "So, is Padfoot going to see me off too?"

Roger chuckled. "Kiddo, I don't think he'd miss it for anything in the world. You only get one first day, after all."

And like a flash, it was already August 30th. Harry had all of his materials gathered the night before, but he still had to get up extra early – 4:30 in the morning – as they had to pick up Sirius from his flat, and make the three-hour drive to Seattle.

By the time the group reached University Street Station in Seattle, it was already after 8:30. At least Harry can take a nap on the train, Roger and Rhonda thought to themselves as they followed him inside the subway station. Sirius grabbed some bags and Hedwig's cage, and placed them in a wagon for Harry to pull.

"Don't worry, Hare, it's a lot lighter than it looks," Roger said encouragingly even though the wagon looked like it couldn't hold a single item more.

"Got your ticket, pup?" Sirius asked Harry as they made their way to the apparently non-existent Cerulean Platform. Harry reached into his pocket and produced the same envelope Hedwig delivered a few weeks prior. Harry looked up at his godfather, grinning broadly as he nodded. Sirius patted Harry on the shoulder.

"So, according to the note, Cerulean is between Blue and Green," Harry said from memory. "I think I have to go through some sort of portal, through that barrier," he added, pointing at a white brick column that separated the Blue and Green platforms.

"Sounds a lot like Kings Cross Station," replied Sirius. "The portal is timed there too. Say, what time is it, anyway?"

Rhonda looked at a clock on the wall behind her. "About ten after nine."

"Well, you have almost an hour to find the Cerulean Platform," Sirius told Harry. He squatted down and pointed and whispered to Harry as he pointed to the barrier. "You might want to try a bit of a jog… those portals are fickle, and you might hit brick if you don't have enough momentum."

"Sounds good, Padfoot," Harry whispered back. He then embraced his godfather. "I'm going to miss you… thank you for being so awesome to me."

"I love you, pup," replied Sirius softly. "I never thought I'd ever leave Magical Britain, but I'm glad I did… nothing's given me greater joy than to watch my godson grow up. You're going to be a great wizard one day, Harry."

Harry then gave Roger and Rhonda warm hugs. "I'm going to miss you both… I'll write to all of you, I promise! I can't wait to see you for the holidays!"

"Study hard, Harry," Rhonda said. "You're a smart boy, and that Anastasia girl sounds like she's got a good head on her shoulders. And I'm sure she'll be just one of many good friends."

"Mind your professors," added Roger. "And they're always there to help. They want you to succeed more than anything."

"And don't forget to relax and have some fun," said Sirius. "Learning spells and potions is only part of being a wizard… you need to make friends too!"

Harry nodded at the three adults. "I will," he said simply. "I love all of you… Christmas seems so far away…" He began to sniffle a bit.

"It'll be here before you know it, Hare," Roger murmured. "We all love and will miss you too, but before you know it, you'll be having too much fun with friends like Anastasia to worry about us." He motioned toward the barrier with his head. "All right, off you go."

Harry bit his lip, and dragged his little wagon behind him. He increased his pace to a slow jog, and when he thought he was going to hit solid brick, he felt nothing! He reached out with his hands, and felt nothing but air. He turned around, and didn't see anyone he recognized, but in front of him was a sleek, streamlined subway train with about a dozen cars. He then looked directly above him – he finally found a brown wooden sign with deep sky blue letters: Cerulean Platform.

He breathed a sigh of relief – he had made it! "Come on, Hedwig," he huffed as he made his way toward the train. He saw a handful of children lining up in the second car, so he decided to follow them as he didn't know what he was doing. He pulled his wagon and waited his turn to be acknowledged. Finally, a Hispanic-looking man with a mustache in a blue uniform turned to Harry. "Name?" he asked in a clipped bark.

"Harry Potter," replied Harry.

"Potter," the man repeated in a soft voice. He then cleared his throat. "All right, do you have your ticket with you?" the man Harry thought must have been a conductor asked.

Harry reached into his pocket and produced the envelope Hedwig dropped off about three weeks prior. He then opened the envelope and then handed the conductor the ticket.

The conductor waved his wand across the ticket. Harry guessed it was to authenticate it, but who would forge something if this platform was so hard to find anyway? He nodded toward Harry. "Very good, Mister Potter. If you'll just follow the students in front of you… also, first year students are assigned to the second-to-last car. You'll have a bit of a walk I'm afraid."

Harry nodded at the conductor. "Thanks."

Harry followed the line of students, but took care to listen to the crew members as they called out each student's year at the front of each assigned car. It took Harry a few minutes, but he exhaled in satisfaction when an elderly woman barked out "First years!" in a strong Jamaican dialect.

"I'm a first-year," Harry told the crewperson. "I take it I can sit anywhere in this car then?"

The old Jamaican lady smiled and nodded at Harry. "First come, first serve." She gestured toward several empty compartments.

Harry took the third compartment from the front… the train must be enchanted, for it looked a lot more spacious on the inside than it did from the outside. Harry found a locker, and after taking the cage containing Hedwig and a bag containing his formal robes out of his wagon, he placed the wagon inside the locker, and then took a moment to stretch his legs and relax.

Harry didn't get much sleep the night before, so he settled himself in to take a bit of a nap. Even if these were just chairs, they were so plush and roomy that he could easily fall asleep on them, he thought to himself. He kicked off his sneakers and pushed his glasses to the top of his head, and got as comfortable as he could.

Before long, it was ten o'clock, and the train announced that the Cerulean Platform was closing, and the train would take off for the castle. Harry didn't even pay any mind to the announcement – he was sawing logs anyway – and barely felt the jolt of the subway as it lurched forward, slowly but surely. The subway gradually picked up momentum, and within twenty minutes it had achieved optimal cruising speed.

Harry was in a peaceful slumber for a good couple of hours, but a sharp rapping jostled him awake. He immediately sat up, and saw a boy about his age, with a bowl cut of coppery-brown hair and soulful caramel-brown eyes standing by the entrance. He was slim, like Harry, but a couple of inches taller. He wore blue overalls and a simple white tee shirt, and seemed to walk with a bit of a pigeon-toed gait.

"Uh, hey there," the boy said, scratching the nape of his neck. "I don't s'pose you have room for one more?"

Harry gestured to the seat across from him. "Knock yourself out."

"Thanks," the other boy said. "So, are you new to this wizarding business too? I had no idea I, y'know, could do… magic until a few months ago."

"Sorta," replied Harry. "I have family members that are magical, but they don't seem to like to talk about it a lot. I guess there's a reason they don't tell me much, but I still want to know something about my heritage." He thrust his hand out. "I'm Harry, by the way. Harry Potter."

The other boy grinned as he took Harry's hand and shook it. "Well, I guess I don't feel so left out, then." He shrugged and murmured in a sheepish voice. "I kinda got a weird name; nobody seems to ever get it right."

"Try me," replied Harry.

"Othniel Beckett," the boy replied. "My parents are devout Christians. They also gave my brother and sister Biblical names. Othniel means 'favored by God' in Hebrew or something."

"Othniel," Harry repeated softly. "I can't say I've ever met anyone named Othniel before." He smirked. "It's different, but it's kind of a cool name. I think I can remember Othniel." Othniel just smiled at Harry in appreciation.

"My parents freaked out when they learned I qualified for Ilvermorny," Othniel elaborated. "They thought I was possessed. One of the Ilvermorny professors came over to kind of explain everything, but they got into such a heated argument… I don't really recall what happened after they started shouting at the professor. It's like she snapped her fingers, and they forgot everything happened."

"So, where are you from, if you don't mind my asking?" inquired Harry. "I was born in the United Kingdom, but I grew up near Vancouver."

"Vancouver, Washington or Vancouver in British Columbia?" asked Othniel.

"British Columbia," clarified Harry.

"Gotcha," replied Othniel. "I'm from Bend, Oregon."

"Never been there," chuckled Harry. "Do you like it there?"

"It's all right, though probably a bit uptight for my liking," said Othniel. "I hope the wizarding world is a bit more tolerant."

"I guess we'll just have to find out," agreed Harry.